Kyle was my old beau and I’d loved him once upon a time. I still did, I guess, and I’d like to think he loved me, too, in his own way. We’d spent a warm, comfortable hour that afternoon talking and reminiscing. He’d shared his troubles and asked for my help and I’d agreed without question or condition.
But there was no way I could’ve reacted to his death with the same intensity of emotion that Helen was showing. Did that make me a cold person? Had the two previous murder victims I’d seen up close inured me to violent death?
I didn’t think so. Something else was going on here.
“Helen, were you close to Kyle?” I asked quietly.
She sniffled and rubbed her nose, then whispered, “I can’t tell you.”
I stared at her. What the hell?
The sirens were close enough that I put my hands over my ears to block the noise. The police cars stopped at the top of the stairway leading to Mary King’s Close. Car doors slammed and boots thudded downstairs, just as Derek reappeared and stepped outside.
“Commander,” a deep voice shouted out.
“Hello, Angus,” Derek called. “Down here.”
I watched the two men shake hands and slap each other’s backs. Old friends and possibly colleagues, it seemed. Then Derek turned and said to the group scattered up and down the close, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is Detective Inspector Angus MacLeod. He’ll be in charge of the investigation. Please give him your attention.”
“Aye, the commander has the right of it,” the detective inspector said, taking over. “Now, you’ll be wanting to line up along the stairway wall to give my unit as wide a pathway up and down as possible. Each of you’ll speak to one of my men stationed at the top of the close.”
Several of the group jumped into line and made their way up the stairs to get the procedure moving.
MacLeod continued. “We’ll need to see some identification, so if you’ve left your hotel or home without it, we’ll be accompanying you back there to get it.”
“Can’t we bring it by the station in the morning?” Liam asked.
“No,” MacLeod said in a cheery voice.
“Will this take long?” one of the men asked, his voice bordering on petulant. Not a good sign.
MacLeod smiled. “Ah, well, we’re not after keeping you all night, but there are questions that must be asked when foul play is suspected, and these things can’t be rushed. I thank you in advance for your cooperation.”
All I could think was, Angus MacLeod was a hunk. Literally. Big and burly, at least six feet, four inches tall, with boyish, sandy blond hair, the man had muscles on his muscles. I could picture him strutting about in a kilt, brandishing a claymore and looking for trouble.
Derek Stone met my gaze and grinned as if he knew what I was thinking. The man had friends in the strangest places. He and MacLeod began to talk in hushed tones as they stepped inside the building together.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Helen whispered.
“I can help you,” I said, clutching her hand.
“Not yet,” she said. “I… I don’t think I can move yet.”
“That’s okay. There’s no hurry.”
“Oh, God, he’s just lying there in that horrible place, cold and alone.” She buried her face in her hands and wept silently.
“Helen,” I said gently. “You know Kyle and I were old friends, right? We talked this afternoon. I don’t think you’d be betraying any secrets if you wanted to tell me why you’re so upset.”
She blinked away tears to look at me. “He told me he ran into an old friend, and that’s why he was running late.” She sniffled. “It was you?”
“Yes,” I said. “We ran into each other up by the castle, so we stopped at a pub and had a beer together.”
“That sounds wonderful,” she said wistfully. “He was such a loving, friendly person.”
Ah. Friendly, yes. Especially when he was trying to coax you out of your pants. And no, I didn’t think that qualified as speaking unkindly of the dead. On the contrary, Kyle had often said that his skill at removing a lady’s clothing was one of his most admirable abilities.
“You know we used to date, right?” I said cautiously.
She hesitated, then let out a tiny sob. “I’d forgotten.”
I persisted. “I’m going to assume from your reaction to his death that you two were involved?”
She choked back a sob. “We were in love. We were going to be married.”
It was my turn to choke. Was she kidding? Sure, I loved Kyle, but I’d suspected all along that he was a total player. Of course, I’d thought at the time that I was special enough to be the exception, so I was in no position to judge Helen.
“Kyle asked you to marry him?” I asked. “He proposed?”
“We were in love,” she repeated softly, as though that were all anyone needed to know. It wasn’t.
“Ladies,” Detective Inspector MacLeod said from directly behind us.
Helen clutched my hand.
Damn. I’d been so wrapped up in Helen’s shocking disclosure that I hadn’t noticed him sneaking up on us. For such a big guy, he sure moved quietly. Thank goodness we were whispering. How much could he have heard?
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”
Crap. I rubbed Helen’s cold hand, hoping I hadn’t gotten her into too much trouble.