Page 88 of Highland Flame

“He used it to open packages, and cut twine, but mainly just for cleanin’ the dirt out from under his nails, which always bothered me.”

“It wasna used in candle makin’ then?” asked Cam.

“Nay. Never. Cam, I have no idea why it is covered in blood.”

“Was anyone else here when Dun died?” asked Cam.

“Nay. It was just me and him. What is this all about?”

“I’m no’ sure,” he said. “North, take the knife back to the castle, and keep it safe. It might be evidence to help us to clear Keithen’s name as well as Yvaine’s.”

“All right, but what do ye mean?” asked North.

“I mean, Yvaine might no’ have killed Dun after all.”

“Cam, I ken what I did,” protested Yvaine. “I hit him with this, and he fell against the table and hit the floor and died.” She waved the candle holder around.

“If ye hit him with that and there was so much blood, then why isna there blood on it as well?” asked Cam.

“I – I’m no’ sure,” she said.

“I think that Dun was angry at ye, Yvaine.”

“He was. He always was,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Instead of beatin’ ye this time, I am guessin’ he planned on stabbin’ ye with his knife.”

Yvaine gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. “Ye might be right, Cam. The reason he was angry with me was because I complained that he was cleanin’ his fingernails instead of cleanin’ up the mess in the shop. He’d been drinkin’ heavily, too.”

“Och, I found two empty bottles of whisky behind the trunk when I hid there right before ye came in,” said North.

“Whisky?” she asked. “We havena had whisky in the house for months. However, I saw him hidin’ somethin’ under his cloak earlier that day after he came back from the tavern. I bet it was whisky.”

“North, take Yvaine back to the castle and make sure she stays there this time,” instructed Cam. “Be sure to take the candle holder and the empty whisky bottles as well. I dinna want Bart comin’ back and tryin’ to hide any evidence.”

“Are ye stayin’ here?” asked Yvaine, as they collected the items and headed toward the door.

“Nay. I’m goin’ to the tavern,” Cam answered.

“Cam, this is no time for a drink, and I hope ye arena plannin’ to spend time with the whores.” Yvaine scowled at him.

“Actually, I think a drink is exactly what I need,” said Cam. “Dinna worry, Yvaine,” he told her, reaching out to stroke her cheek, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. “My days of beddin’ whores is over now that I have ye. All I am goin’ to do is talk to them, and figure out a way to prove that Dun died by his own hand, and no’ yers or Keithen’s.”