Free 08 - The Highland Fling Murders by Jessica Fletcher, Donald Bain Page A

part of some wicked scheme in which women were brutally murdered.
    “What do you think, Mort?” Shevlin asked our sheriff. “And you, Seth?”
    Seth Hazlitt said, “Well, I think you’re rushin’ to judgment, Jim. I agree that this is plenty upsettin’. But just because this Miss Daisy Wemyss has been killed by a nut doesn’t mean we should be packin’ our bags and scurryin’ out a’ here.”
    Mort Metzger cleared his throat before saying, “I think Seth talks sense, somethin’ I don’t always say. But I do think that since this murder has happened right under our noses, we should keep our guard up. If you agree, I’ll put together a security plan for while we’re staying here at the castle.”
    “Security plan?” Ken Sassi said. “If we need a ‘security plan,’ we shouldn’t be here.”
    An argument erupted in which everyone voiced their opinions. When their voices died down, they turned to me. “What about you, Jess?” Seth Haz litt asked. “You’re the one who suffered the shock of discoverin’ the body. You’re the one who invited us to come along with you to Sutherland Castle. How do you feel about stayin’?”
    I glanced at George before replying. He gave me a slight shrug of his shoulders; translation—do what I thought was best without regard for him.
    I said, “We’re all shocked and upset at what has happened to Daisy. That’s only natural and right. But to turn tail and run away from this beautiful place would be, in my judgment, an overreaction. We’ve had murders in Cabot Cove. That didn’t cause us to run away from there.”
    “Because that’s our home,” Jed Richardson said from where he still hovered over Alicia.
    “And this is our home for the next week,” I said. “I can’t decide for you whether to leave or not. That’s up to each individual in this room. I’m sure George will be happy to arrange flights and transportation to the nearest airport for anyone who wants that. But I intend to stay. That’s my individual decision.”
    No one said anything. Finally, Seth Hazlitt spoke up. “I agree with Jessica. I’m stayin’, too.”
    “I’ll get to work on a security plan right away,” Mort said.
    “Forget your security plan,” Ken Sassi said. “I suggest we all try to put the murder out of our minds and get on with our vacation. This is a beautiful place, blessed by nature. I didn’t bring all my fishing gear for nothing. Right, Jess? You and I have a date on a river.”
    I smiled. “We certainly do, Ken.”
    George asked, “Will anyone be leaving? If so, I’ll start making travel arrangements straight away.”
    The only person who responded to George’s offer was Jed Richardson, who said, “I’m sure you all agree that Alicia and I had a pretty big scare back in London. I’m over it, but I think Alicia here might not be.” He looked down at her. “If you want to leave, honey, I’m with you.”
    She looked up with moist eyes and said, “No, Jed, I’d like to stay.” To us: “We’ll have a good time, won’t we?”
    “We sure will,” Susan Shevlin said. “That’s what we’re here for.”
    “Let’s eat,” Mort said. “That salmon looks right good. Don’t it, Seth?”
    “Ayuh. That it does.”
    Forbes reappeared behind the bar, and we relaxed as we ate and drank.
    “Where’s Pete and Roberta?” Seth asked.
    “In their room, I believe,” George said. “They slept in this morning, and pretty much stayed there all day.”
    “They’re missing the food,” Mort said. “I’ll go rouse them.”
    Realizing that Cabot Cove’s radio station owner and his wife weren’t there caused me to wonder where the other two couples were, the producer of horror films, Brock Peterman and his wife, Tammy, and Dr. Geoffrey Symington and his wife, Helen. I asked George.
    “The doctor told me this morning that he was spending the day at the Wick Historical Society.”
    “Oh?”
    “ ‘Research into something,’ he said. ”The Petermans