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“Does he have something to do with the body?”
Kris contemplated Dougal. He seemed awfully interested in the body. Of course she’d learned over her years in television that a lot of people were ghouls.
To be honest … most people were ghouls.
She shook her head. “I ran into him at the castle, and we had a nice chat.”
Kris had to struggle to hold back the snort of derision that threatened to erupt from her throat. Since when did a chat involve the exchange of DNA?
Dougal’s brows lifted. She half-expected him to chant: Liar, liar, pants afire, and she touched her nose to see if it had begun to grow as long as a telephone wire. Her lying skills had not improved.
“Mmm,” he said in that way the Scottish had, which could indicate disbelief, sarcasm, or the desire of one speaker for the other to move on. “There was a man asking around the village about you.”
Kris frowned. “Liam?”
“As I’ve never met him, I don’t know, but I doubt it.”
“If you’ve never met him, then how can you doubt?”
“I’d expect Liam Grant to have a Scottish accent.”
“I’d expect Dougal Scott to have one, too, but there you go.”
Dougal touched his fingertips to his forehead and flicked them outward in a jaunty salute. “Touché.”
Kris had a thought. “Was he German?”
Dougal shook his head. “American. Said he was from…” He paused. “The East Coast.”
“Oh, that narrows it down,” Kris muttered. “What did he ask?”
“Where you were staying.”
Kris started, and Dougal’s expression became concerned. “I didn’t tell him.”
“Good,” she said, though eventually someone would. “You didn’t wonder why he was asking?”
“Oh, I wondered. But I was busy. Someone needed directions; someone else wanted to know the weekend hours for the museum. When I turned back, he was gone.”
That happened a lot around here.
“Would you like to visit The Clansman?” Dougal asked.
“Clansman?” Kris repeated, confused at the sudden change of subject.
“A hotel, near Inverness. They have a wonderful restaurant overlooking the loch, where a great many Nessie sightings are said to occur.”
“You’re asking me to dinner?”
Dougal cocked a brow. “It appears that I am.” He seemed as surprised about it as she was.
Kris hesitated. She liked Dougal. She enjoyed talking to him. It was refreshing to be able to discuss Nessie with someone else who did not believe. But she didn’t want him to think there was any chance for a lasting relationship. Even if she were capable of such a thing, she wasn’t going t
o be here that long.
“It’s dinner, Kris.” Dougal’s mouth quirked as his gray eyes observed her dilemma with obvious amusement. “I’m not going to start picking out china patterns and flatware.”
Kris laughed. She really did like him. “People still do that?”
