Page 3

Chapter Three

Five hours later, I woke up with another headache. After a shower and two bottles of water, I felt slightly better, but coffee was on my agenda. Mara was up and had left the room, so that was a good sign. I’d hooked her up to an IV from my kit for a few hours and set an alarm to take it out. She’d slept through everything.

Flooding her body with fluids was the best way to rid it of the toxins. I didn’t know if she’d been poisoned, but it never hurt to use caution in that regard.

I opened the door to the hall and nearly ran into Ewan, who held a silver tray with a coffeepot on it.

The man was a mind reader. If I hadn’t been so caffeine desperate, I might have thought it was strange that he’d showed up when he did.

“Please tell me that is for me.”

“Aye.” He moved past me to put the tray on the round table near the door. After pouring two cups, he handed me one.

He started to speak, but I held up a hand.

“You know the rules. Half a cup.” We’d worked together enough that he understood. He sat patiently while I took a couple of sips.

“Okay, any word on who our victim is?”

He shook his head. “Most of the wedding party is still asleep. I asked around the household staff. No one recognized him.”

“Strange that he made it past security.”

“Aye. Even odder he had no identification on him.”

“It may be in his room.”

“True, but which one? All the rooms and people invited are accounted for, and I’ve gone through the list three times with our security team. We have rooms left for guests yet to come, but they are all empty.”

I frowned. “Someone might have brought a plus-one at the last minute. It happens. Ewan, have you slept?”

The bags under his eyes said it all.

“Not yet. If we have a killer in the castle, we need to work fast. Any thoughts on how the victim died?”

“I’ve been thinking about that since I woke up. I may have misspoke,” I admitted. “I’m not sure we have a murder on our hands, but from the devastation in the kidneys, I’d say poison. There is no proof it’s something he ingested on the premises. The fluids in his heart, lungs—and the crystals in his kidneys—are different symptoms for a variety of ailments. That’s what has me hung up.”

“But if it’s poison, that means someone planned to harm him. Why bring him at all?”

I shrugged. “You said the Carthages were really worried about security.”

He nodded.

“Could he have been here to harm one of them? Maybe his plan to poison them went awry.”

Ewan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “As you know, poison is personal.”

“Right. And statistically, perpetrated by women. Ugh. I don’t know. Until I can test and figure out what kind of poison, this is all pointless speculation.”

“We need to find out who he is.”

“I agree,” I said.

The door opened slowly, and Mara peeked into the room. “Oh, you’re up.” Then she smiled at Ewan. “You have company—sorry.”

“We’re working,” I said. “Well, trying to figure out what happened to the dead man. I’m not quite ready for work yet. My brain needs a few more gallons of this.” I held up my cup.

“That’s what I came to tell you. Brunch is ready. Wait—I thought that was my fevered dreams from last night. Did someone really die?”

She’d been out of it last night. I told her I’d had to put an IV in, and she said she’d overdone it yesterday. Not once had she woken up. I’d left her a note in the bathroom, explaining the bandage on her arm—that I’d only been looking out for her.

I was surprised she hadn’t heard anything from the household staff.

Ewan told her what happened, then held up a picture on his phone. “Do you remember seeing him last night?”

Mara blew out a breath. “My memories from last night blur heavily right after dinner. I don’t remember him. I can’t believe someone died last night. That’s terrible.”

As yet, we had no proof the man had been murdered, and news like that might send people into a panic.

“Do me a favor and shut down any gossip you might hear today,” I said. “Since everyone is stuck here, we don’t need any sort of alarm. Without doing some more tests, I won’t have a complete analysis. If anyone asks, tell them a man died. There was no sign of a struggle.”

“Why do I feel like you aren’t telling me everything?”

“Because I don’t know everything yet.”

Fortunately, if the wind rattling the windows was any indication, none of us could leave. That gave us time to figure out what had happened.

Or was that unfortunately?

We may be trapped with a killer.

“Let’s head down to brunch. Maybe someone there will know who he is,” I said.

Brunch was a far more subdued affair in the formal dining room than the meal had been the night before. Although Scots handled their alcohol better than most, there were a few folks rubbing their temples and looking a bit pale.

Some people filled their plates while some nibbled on fruit. Others sat nursing nothing but a cup of coffee or tea.

The storm outside, which blew snow so hard the glass shuddered at times, was in direct contrast to the quietness of the room.

Angie came in with her hair piled on top of her head and dressed in a circus-striped pantsuit. “What’s going on?” she demanded. She pointed at Ewan. “One of the housekeepers told me somebody died last night.” She was pale and grabbed her head as if her shouting had caused pain.

There were gasps around the room.

Ewan had been near one of the sideboards, talking with Damien, the groom, who moved to stand beside his bride. He wrapped his arm around her.

“Everything is all right, luv.”

“Tell me.” She glanced around the room as if counting her friends and family.

“We did have a fatality in the tower,” Ewan said authoritatively. “We’re looking into it, and we could use everyone’s help in identifying the victim. So far, no one knows who he is.”

I wasn’t a detective, but I did find myself watching people carefully. There was something in the groom’s eyes. Fear, worry—it was difficult to tell.

His father, Mr. Carthage, had an eyebrow up, and Angie’s mom appeared angry.

“What happened to him, and does that mean the wedding is canceled?” Angie asked. Her eyes watered. She wasn’t one for crying, and her hands shook. Something was off with her.

“No,” the groom and Angie’s mom said fiercely at the same time. That stunned everyone to silence.

“We aren’t going to let the death of a stranger stop us from getting married,” the groom said softly.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” the groom’s father said.

“Dad,” Damien said sharply.

“What do you mean by that?” Angie pulled out of her groom’s arm.

“That you aren’t—you are not the right woman for my son.”

“Stop.” The groom growled the word.

Angie snorted and fire lit her eyes. “You probably murdered someone to keep us from marrying. Well, I say it just adds to the atmosphere that someone died at my gothic wedding.”

As if realizing what she’d just said, Angie groaned. “I can’t believe I said that. You”—she pointed to her soon-to-be father-in-law—“bring out the worst in everyone.”

She turned back to Damien. “I’m sorry. I’m out of sorts this morning.” She grabbed the side of her head as if she were in pain again. I’d ask her if she needed tablets in a bit.

“Constable, what do you need from us?” Damien asked. He pulled Angie back into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Don’t let him get to you, babe,” he said as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Everyone, stay calm—we will get this sorted,” Ewan said. “The man may have been a vagrant hiding out. Until we have his identity, I ask that you all forgive us, but everyone will need to answer a few questions.

There was grumbling around the room.

I’d had no idea Damien’s father didn’t approve of the union. Angie had said Damien wasn’t like his stuck-up family, but there was obviously more to the story.

Damien’s parents had forgone the events last night, claiming exhaustion from the two-hour drive, so we hadn’t spent much time with them.

“Do you know what happened?” Angie asked me from across the room.

“How would she know?” her mom asked.

“She’s the coroner, Mom, and a bloody wonderful doctor.”

Most of the room seemed surprised by this news. They all turned to look at me. I stared at my coffee.

If there were possible killers in the room, I would have rather they not know I’d be trying to find them.

“I need to know what you think,” Angie said.

“I don’t have answers for you yet, but as Ewan said, we’re working on it.”

“Do you know if it was an accident?” Damien asked.

For all I knew, the victim could have swallowed the poison on purpose. Highly unlikely, but I didn’t have a reply for them.

“We can’t be sure until more testing is done. No outwardly sign of bodily harm, though.” That was as honest an answer as I could give.

“Until there is more information, there isn’t much more that we can tell you,” Ewan said, interrupting whatever I’d been about to say. He gave me the arched eyebrow, which probably meant I’d said too much.

I sighed.

“For now, go ahead with your plans,” he continued. “We will be spending the next three days together, as the pass is closed.”

“Bloody hell,” one of the groomsmen complained. Byron was the one I’d been seated next to at dinner. All he’d talked about was rugby and his injuries from the sport. “I’ve business to do, and the phones aren’t working.”

“We’ve lost our cell tower to the storm,” Ewan said. “Happened last night around one. Please be patient. I’ll need everyone to make themselves available to Dr. McRoy and myself.”

“Are you sure we should carry on with the wedding?” Angie asked.

She was so pale, more so than usual.

“Like I said, thanks to the weather we can’t go anywhere,” Ewan said. “It was most likely an accident. There’s no reason not to carry on. Please make yourselves available for our questions.”

“The victim’s a man? Well, if your security is up to snuff, he should be on the list,” Mr. Carthage said. I didn’t know him, but already I was not a fan of Damien’s dad.

“Mr. Carthage, perhaps we will speak to you first,” Ewan said.

I hid my smile behind a napkin.

The man huffed. “I have an important paper to work on. It will have to wait.” Then he stormed off.

“Why don’t you finish your brunch, and then we’ll chat with each of you soon,” Ewan said to those who lingered.

I had a feeling that was more to keep everyone busy. Nothing like a castle full of people worried about a dead guy. They had to be wondering if he’d been killed.

I would.

Mara sat down next to me. “Did you see stepmother number three?” she whispered.

“Which one is that?”

“Sitting next to the hunky groomsman, Josh. She’s the youngest one.” I had no idea who she was talking about, but I followed her eyeline. The woman next to him was smiling and had a hand on his arm. It was intro 101 in the flirting handbook.

Not that I’d read the handbook. I was terrible at that sort of thing.

“Is she the current one? I can’t tell them apart.”

“Yes. Angie’s dad isn’t here, but it’s not like she’s trying to hide her interest in Josh. I saw them canoodling last night before the dinner. It makes you wonder what kind of relationship she has with Angie’s dad.”

The stepmother was closer to the groomsman’s age than she was to Angie’s dad’s. Mara and I had been privy to the truce called among the stepmothers and mother for the wedding. The negotiations had been like something out of the UN, but so far, they were all behaving—sort of.

“When they were all sitting down at the table during the hen party, I seriously couldn’t tell them apart.”

“It is kind of weird that they look and dress the same,” she said. “Who will you talk to first?”

“I’m surprised Ewan wants to include me, but I’m not sure.”

The groom and bride seemed the most likely people to identify the dead guy—that is, if he was with someone in the wedding party. They were the only two people who should know all the friends and family.

I prayed we’d figure it out quickly. Starting with who the poor man might be. As the coroner, it was my job to speak for the dead, and I took that seriously. I would give him the due diligence he deserved.

A half hour later, most women had been called away to work on some pillows for the bride and groom’s special day.

The men were off playing snooker.

The staff had cleaned up the dining room, leaving only coffee, tea, and assorted pastries for latecomers.

It dawned on me that I’d been here for twenty-four hours and still hadn’t seen poor Jasper. He’d become a great friend and was a part of my little family in Sea Isle. That said, he was a perfectionist and tended to lose himself in his work. I made a mental note to check on him later.

Mara downed water like she’d been adrift at sea for weeks.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “My head is so woozy. It’s like I’m surrounded by a fog, and I can’t get enough to drink. I need to know what was in that punch. Nothing has ever affected me like this.”

“Why don’t you go rest?” I whispered.

“I need to check on Jasper. He’s in creative mode and doesn’t like to be bothered.” She smiled. “It’s no wonder he has trouble finding assistants at the bakery. He was quite snippy when I asked if he wanted help. From what I could tell this morning, he may have slept in the prep room last night. He doesn’t want anyone near those cakes.”

I smiled. “He is a perfectionist.” With a good case of OCD, for which he took medication. He was my patient, and I couldn’t tell her that. He also had loads of anxiety, and we’d been working on exercises to help him with that too. Being a GP meant dealing with a variety of ailments on any given day. It wasn’t much different from the ER.

After Mara left, I sat with Ewan at the end of the table, with the groom.

“Do you have any idea who he is?” Ewan showed Damien the pictures he’d taken of the body.

Damien squinted. “It could be someone I know, but I have no idea why he would be here. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Who do you think it is?” I asked.

He shook his head. “It could be Angie’s ex and my former best mate, Robbie.”

Ewan and I frowned.

“Why aren’t you sure it’s him?” Ewan asked.

“His hair and nose are different.” Damien pointed to the picture. He had a posh English accent. Angie had told us it came from his family shipping him off to boarding schools in England at an early age. “It can’t be him, though. Last I heard, he was making a go of it in New York. We haven’t seen him in years.”

“Maybe he came back.” Ewan watched the other man carefully. “Could he have been jealous and wanting to stop the wedding?”

“Aye, he was the type.” the groom said. “Still, I haven’t seen him in five years. Not since that night Angie broke up with him. His nose had been smashed in a few times and was bent to the right back then. But this guy’s is different. That’s why I’m not certain it’s Robbie.”

The surgeon must have done a fantastic job. I hadn’t noticed plastic surgery scars. Though, I’d be checking more closely a bit later.

“Could it be a relative of your friend?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not anyone who looked like him—at least, as far as I remember. Why would he be here? He hates us—Angie and me. Like I said, we haven’t heard from him since that day.”

“Do you know if he and Angie were in contact?” I asked.

Damien’s cheeks flamed red, and he closed his eyes. “She would tell me.”

“Is it possible someone brought him as a plus-one and he wasn’t on the list?” Ewan asked.

“Why?” The groom held up his hands. “Why would someone want so much drama for Angie and me? These people are supposed to love us, although I’m beginning to wonder.”

“Do you mean your dad?” I asked. “Tell us what’s going on there.”

Damien took a deep breath and blew it out.

“It’s nothing to do with the dead man, I assure you. My father is a snob. Angie’s family is perfectly respectable. She is the brightest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and she’s incredibly successful. My father believes the multiple marriages of her parents are—like I said, I come from a family of snobs. All ‘blue blood’ means is there is inbreeding among the ranks. That sort of thing has never mattered to me.”

He was right about Angie, and his voice had swelled with pride when he spoke about her.

“Like my parents are the epitome of the happy marriage.”

“Do you think your father could have brought Robbie along to cause trouble?”

The groom put his head in his hands. “I’d have said that was a ridiculous idea a few weeks ago. But now—they were furious when they found out all the steps were coming to the wedding.

“There was a scene between a couple of the stepmothers at the engagement party—my parents were embarrassed in front of their friends. And if nothing else, they are all about appearances.

“But they wouldn’t have invited Robbie. They disliked him when we grew older and thought he was a bad influence on me back in the day. They weren’t wrong.”

His father might have stooped to anything given his adamant disapproval of poor Angie.

Then why kill him?

Yep, that part didn’t make sense.

Unless Damien or Angie caught sight of and poisoned him?

No. If he did die from poison, that had taken planning. It wasn’t like the poison had just been sitting around—or was it?

Those kidneys. There was something so familiar, and that small niggling in my brain formed into a complete thought.

“Oh.”

I didn’t realize I’d said something out loud until Ewan and Damien turned to look at me.

“I think we need to talk to Angie,” I said.

“Isn’t it enough that someone has died at our wedding? She’s a strong one, my Angie, but she’s been through enough.”

“We’ll be talking to everyone,” Ewan said. “I need you to find her and bring her to us. Dinnae tell her who you think is in these pictures. Do you understand? We want her honest reaction.”

“You think she could kill someone?”

Ewan sighed. “Nay. But I don’t want you influencing her identification process. Actually, I’ll go find her. You stay here.”

Damien sat back and crossed his arms. “I wanted everything to be so perfect for her,” he said.

“It will be.” I patted his arm. “You’ve been through so much to get here, and I know she wants it to be special for you as well. We will make this work.”

“I’d be happy marrying her on a street corner, as long as she’s mine.” He smiled. “I love her so.”

While I’d only met him a few times before this weekend, he was a good guy. Angie might be a bit on the wild side, but she was an incredible human being.

He leaned his elbows on the table. “You’re one of her best friends. Do you think she’s been chattin’ with Robbie?”

“No.” I said the word because he needed to hear it, but I wasn’t sure. We were close, but maybe she didn’t tell me and Mara everything. “She hasn’t mentioned anything about him. If he’d been bothering her, she would have said something to Mara and me.”

That I did believe. Angie understood we had her back, no matter the circumstances.

“Aye. I know it in my bones, but I just don’t understand why he’s here. If it is him. Why does he look so different? He wasn’t the type to have plastic surgery or dye his hair. None of this makes a bit of sense.”

Why would someone go to the trouble to disguise himself and crash a wedding?

The answer was a simple one.

If he was up to no good.