Free Does Your Mother Know? by Maureen Jennings Page A

might have died in a car accident.
    Unexpectedly, a patch of blue sky had appeared overhead, and the capricious sun shone apologetically into the patio. In each corner was a large cement flowerpot, filled with yellow daisies and trailing ivy. Lisa’s job, I assumed. I yawned, suddenly feeling verysleepy. I could hear a bee buzzing near my leg, but it wasn’t interested in me, only its hunt for nectar. I was sorely tempted to swing my legs around, stretch out on the bench, and fall into blissful unconsciousness. I glanced over at Gillies, who was watching me.
    “You’re exhausted. As soon as we’ve downed the tea, I’ll drive you to the hotel. There’s not a lot more you can do here.”
    “Isn’t there? I feel as if I should be doing something, though.”
    “This isn’t exactly your case, Christine. We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise.”
    I liked the way he said my name, and his tone was kind, not the least dismissive. I leaned back against the hard iron bench and closed my eyes. The sun was so soft and warm. I felt as if my face was being caressed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    In fact, the tea, which was very strong, British-style, woke me up. Lisa had added the whisky directly to the tea, which was probably a sacrilege, but it certainly gave it a nice kick. By the time I had downed the first cup, I was awake and raring to go. Lisa had disappeared while we had the tea, saying she needed to do some heavy work out in the front flower bed. Gillies didn’t say much, once again taking his cue from me, which I appreciated. I just muttered banalities about the strength of the brew, the prettiness of the garden, the effect of the whisky.
    “Do you want some more?” he asked, reaching for the teapot, which was underneath an embroidered tea cosy.
    “No, thanks. That’ll do me for the next week, I think.”
    He grinned. “If you stay with us for a wee while, your kidneys will get stronger.”
    “Or be wiped out completely.”
    “Aye, that too.”
    “I don’t want to tread on any toes, or be intrusive, but I wonder if I could talk to Lisa.”
    “What do you mean, talk ?”
    “Talk the way I would with any witness to a... sudden death. There’s a procedure we follow.”
    “I can’t imagine any reason why not, if it’s what you want todo. Frankly, I’d be interested to see you in action.”
    “Hey, come on. It’s not anything you wouldn’t do.”
    “Let’s see then.”
    He got up and walked to the edge of the patio, leaned around the wall, and called, “Lisa. Thig an-seo, tapadh leat. ”
    I heard her call a response, also in Gaelic.
    Gillies came back and sat down, and in a moment Lisa appeared, wiping her hands on the linen gardening apron she was wearing. There was a strong whiff of smoke around her, and I gathered she had been pulling on more than one kind of weed.
    “You rang, Sir?”
    “Miss Morris wants to ask you some questions. Is that all right by you?”
    She shrugged. “Of course.” She turned to me. “What do you want to know?”
    The question was put politely enough, but she was wary, as if she were emotionally shifting to the balls of her feet like a boxer ready to handle whatever came his way. I didn’t know why and didn’t particularly care. Probably to do with the companion thing. She seemed young to be shacking up with a sick old man, but that wasn’t any concern of mine. At least not at the moment.
    “You heard me mention to Andy and his fiancée that Mr. and Mrs. MacLean apparently saw a car leaving the house on Friday night. Do you have any idea who that might have been?”
    “No. Why do you ask?” she echoed Coral-Lyn’s words. Gillies helped me out. “It’d be interesting to talk to whoever it was came here, see how Tormod was.”
    She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re getting at. He was ill. Dr. MacBeth told him weeks ago there was a danger of him hemorrhaging.”
    “We’re not really getting at anything, Lisa. You know how it is with police officers. We don’t