Free Death in a Cold Spring (Pitkirtly Mysteries Book 9) by Cecilia Peartree

Hamish... Why aren’t you out canvassing then?’
    ‘I’ve had enough of that for today,’ said Amaryllis, bending to pat the dog. ‘I’m not going to bother with this investigation, either. It’s a waste of my time.’
    ‘That’s not like you. Are you sure you’re not catching something? Jemima was telling me there’s shingles about at the old crinklies’ lunch club.’
    ‘It isn’t really called that, is it?’ Amaryllis smiled despite herself.
    ‘Shingles? It always has been, as far as I know.’ Jock looked at his watch. ‘Bit early for a pint. Do you want to go down to the sea front and mingle with the other dog walkers?’
    ‘That sounds like a waste of time too.’
    ‘Oh, it isn’t,’ he assured her. ‘That’s where you find out all you need to know about this town. There’s nothing like dog walkers for sharing the gossip.’
    ‘Why didn’t I know that already?’ said Amaryllis crossly.
    ‘You’ve never been a dog walker, have you?’
    ‘Not knowingly.’
    ‘You wait. This’ll open your eyes.’
    They speeded up as they went down the hill, the little white dog now eager to get on with his walk, and towing Jock along with him. Even Amaryllis was slightly out of breath by the time they arrived at the harbour. Because she was annoyed with herself about this, she pushed past Jock McLean and the dog and marched on ahead of them along the harbour wall.
    ‘We don’t usually go along there,’ said Jock from somewhere behind her.
    At that moment, Amaryllis stopped in her tracks. She had just kicked something. It was too big and flat to be a loose pebble or even a rock that was coming away from the wall. She glanced downwards. It was a smooth flat black thing. As she leaned down to pick it up, she knew what it was.
    ‘A tablet,’ she said, half to herself.
    ‘Tablet? What kind?’ said Jock. ‘Did you get it from that sweetie-shop where the woman was fined for poisoning somebody with the out-of-date gobstoppers?’
    ‘It isn’t the kind of thing you could just drop without missing it,’ said Amaryllis thoughtfully, holding it up for Jock to see.
    ‘What’s that?’ said Jock.
    ‘It’s a kind of computer,’ said Amaryllis. Theoretically she supposed she should have left it exactly where it was and told the police about it. After all, it could turn out to be linked to the case of the missing artists, for all she knew. Keith had mentioned a ‘local device’ during the phone call she had overheard. But it could also be that someone had lost it there in a quite innocent memory lapse.
    She frowned. She had a feeling about this device. It was somehow significant.
    ‘What are you going to do with it?’ said Jock.
    ‘I’ll hand it in at the police station,’ she said. ‘Once I can work out when they’re open next. Someone might have reported it missing.’
    It was an odd place to lose a tablet, too. People usually hung on to the things tightly when they were out and about. And it wasn’t as small as a phone, so you’d notice if you weren’t carrying it any more, and go back for it.
    She opened the small backpack she had taken to carrying around with her for election stuff, and slid the tablet inside.
    ‘This way,’ said Jock.
    They left the harbour and walked along in the direction of the Queen of Scots.
    ‘Charlie sometimes comes out about now,’ said Jock.
    Two other dog-walkers came into view.
    ‘Now you’ll see what I mean,’ he said.
    The two women were deep in conversation, and didn’t even look up when he greeted them with what Amaryllis suspected was fake enthusiasm.
    ‘Well, maybe they were talking about something important that couldn’t be interrupted,’ said Jock.
    Charlie came out of the Queen of Scots with his dog and walked towards them, shoulders hunched against the chilly wind.
    ‘Shouldn’t it be getting a bit warmer now it’s spring?’ said Amaryllis, shivering.
    Charlie’s dog saw them and gave a tentative wave of its tail before glancing away