Page 7

Chapter Seven

The rumbling intensified, the windows rattled, and the sound of a freight train hurt my ears. Mara reached out and grabbed my arm, which was understandable but still made me jump in the darkness.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s okay.”

“Everyone, stand still,” Ewan urged loudly. “The lights will be back on soon. We have plenty of generators—they only need time to turn on.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. “It sounded like a bomb went off.”

“Avalanche, probably a little higher up on the mountain,” Ewan answered.

“Avalanche?” a woman screamed hysterically. That was not me, although I was right there with her on the terror.

“We’re fine,” Ewan said in that deep baritone of his. “Be still. Do not panic. I don’t want anyone tripping in the dark. We’ve safeguards outside—you are safe. If you stay still, everything will be fine.”

Without the lights, it was impossible to see outside, but the rumbling stopped.

“Angie,” Damien bellowed.

“What happened?” Mara asked anxiously. “Where is Angie?”

The lights flickered and then came back on inside the huge room. The outside lights showed snow sliding down the mountain. It wasn’t the huge chunks I’d expected. Only small bits traveling fast.

“Can you see Angie?” I asked Ewan.

Ewan shook his head.

The voices around us tittered with nervousness, and the rumbling continued outside, though not as loud.

“The snow is piling up fast, but we’re safe.” Ewan used his authoritative, no-nonsense voice. “No need to worry. There are reinforced stone walls and trenches around the castle to divert anything coming down the mountain.”

I’d only seen avalanches on television. Until now.

The idea of piles of snow coming toward us unnerved me. I shivered.

“Doc, we need your help.” Ewan’s voice was far away. He’d moved from where we were when the lights went out, and I had a tough time finding him in the swarms of people milling about. There was a crowd gathered near the coffee and hot chocolate bar.

“Oh my.” Angie’s mom cried out. “She’s dead. My baby is dead.”

My chest tightened, and I found it difficult to breathe. Still, I was across the room before I even realized I was off the couch.

“Move,” I said, and I didn’t bother altering my tone. “Move,” I said again. The crowd didn’t budge.

Angie? Where are you?

I tried to plow through the crowd, but no one was moving.

“Ewan!” I yelled.

“Move back,” he said. “Let the doctor through.”

The crowd parted. Angie was on the floor in a pool of blood.

No! I wanted to scream, but my instincts kicked into high gear. “My kit is on the table in my room.”

“I’ll get it,” Ewan replied.

I knelt and put my hand to her neck. Her pulse was strong.

Damien was on the other side of her. “Babe, please wake up.”

“I need towels.” The wound had to be on the back of her head. After checking her neck carefully, to make sure it wasn’t broken, I turned her head to the right.

“Light. I need more light.” People used their phones to shine light down.

The gash in Angie’s head wasn’t as bad as I’d first imagined. Head wounds tend to bleed a great deal. She’d have a massive headache, but the wound wouldn’t even need stiches. Once I cleaned and bandaged it, she’d be okay.

Except for the fact she was unconscious.

“What happened?”

“I had my arm around her, and she slid down,” Damien said. “She was at an odd angle, and I thought I caught her before she hit her head. But she’s bleeding. Please tell me she’s okay.”

Angie’s mom squeezed her hand. “Tell me she’s alive,” she cried. Tears streamed down her face.

“Yes,” I said. “She’s alive. She’ll be fine.

There was another rumble and the windows rattled again.

The lights flickered off again.

Women screamed around us.

Thanks to the flashlight apps, I could still see.

“Everything is fine,” Ewan said loudly. “The generators have kicked in.”

He pushed through the crowd and placed my kit beside me. He must have run at record speed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just open it,” I said as I took one of the towels someone handed me.

I quickly grabbed what I needed to clean the wound.

“How is she?” he whispered.

The windows rattled again. Then there was more screaming.

The screaming irked my nerves, and my hands shook. I took a deep breath.

“Get these people out of here,” I said.

“Can’t. We need to find out what happened to Angie first.”

It hit me: he thought someone had tried to hurt her again.

“Give me your flashlight—I mean torch.”

“Everyone, sit,” he barked. “No one leaves the room until I say so.”

The crowd didn’t move. “Now!” he bellowed.

“How dare you order us around.” Damien’s father’s nasty tone came through the crowd.

“I’ll help her—you handle that.” Mara sat next to me on the floor, directing her remarks to Ewan.

He stood. “Mr. Carthage, please sit down before I have my men take you to the dungeon for questioning. Your soon-to-be daughter-in-law has been injured. I’d like to speak to you as soon as we finish with her care.”

There were gasps around the room.

“I’ll have your job, Constable,” the other man bit out angrily. “I’ll be speaking to your boss.”

“This is my castle, and I’m the laird. I am the boss.”

If I hadn’t been so worried about Angie, I might have cheered for him.

“The wound is higher on her head. Did she hit it on the floor, or did it happen before?” Mara asked.

I quickly assessed the situation once I had the wound somewhat clean. The small gash was higher on her head; Mara was right.

“She didn’t get it hitting the floor.”

“Wait—what?” Damien’s voice croaked. “Someone hit her?”

People around us gasped again.

“Ewan,” I grumbled.

“On it,” he said. “Everyone please be seated. Mr. Carthage, perhaps you’d like to tell me where you were in the room when the lights went out.”

“I want my lawyer,” the other man said.

“Take a seat then; it may be a while.”

There was another loud pop and more shaking. At least, this time the lights stayed on, which wasn’t saying much with the club-like feel of the lounge. The phones’ lights had been moved away, and mood lighting was not appropriate for examining a patient.

I checked her eyes. Her pupils weren’t dilated. At least we had that going for us.

I prayed there hadn’t been brain damage.

I ran my fingers through her updo, and there was a small hematoma growing. I gently pushed on it and blood gushed out.

“I hate the blood part of this,” Mara said.

I handed her a towel. “Put pressure on it while I check the rest of her to make sure she didn’t hurt herself when she fell.”

Her mother moved out of the way, while I moved down Angie’s body. It was weird to touch my friend in this way, but I had to make sure she hadn’t broken anything.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Damien whispered. His tear-stained cheeks said it all. “Angie, luv, please wake up. Please.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “What are you doing?” she asked Mara, who was now holding pressure at the top of her head.

Angie sat up, before we could stop her, and rubbed her head. “Bloody hell. Someone hit me.”

“I think you fainted, luv,” Damien said. “I tried to catch you.”

“Nay. I felt something hit the back of my head, and then I blacked out.” She frowned. “I didn’t faint. I’m not that type of woman.”

I pursed my lips. “I believe you.”

I glanced behind Damien. There was something metal by one of the flower-draped screens.

“Don’t move,” I said. “You took a good hit, and you need to give yourself some time.”

Damien scooped her up off the floor. “I’m taking her to our room. Are you coming with us?”

I’d just said for her not to move, but it was too late. Was she safe with him? Her beloved groom had been the one nearest to her, but there were still tears in his eyes as he held her close.

He stared down at her so lovingly, it was difficult to believe he’d cause her harm.

“Keep her propped up and don’t let her fall asleep. I’ll be there in a bit. Mara, keep pressure on the wound.”

“Did she faint?” Abigail asked from behind me. “Henry came and got me in case you needed help.”

“She said she was hit, and I believe her,” I whispered.

Abigail helped me stand up. I went over to the flowered screen and stared down at the piece of metal I’d seen. It was a small mallet with blood and hair on it. Purple hair.

“What can I do?” Abigail asked.

“I need an evidence bag.” I pointed down at the ground.

Her eyes went wide. “Holy Mother.”

“I know.” I took pictures of the area, though it was still dark in the room. “Have Henry cordon this area off and take fingerprints. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and there will be shoe prints, as well.”

We made quick work of placing the mallet in the bag. Most of the guests had either wandered off or were gathered near the windows, with the staff, checking out the surroundings.

The outside lights had come back on. The snow was piled in tall mounds all around the castle, and I worried about anyone who might have been outside during all of that.

I stuffed the bag with the mallet into my kit. I had a fingerprint kit, but Henry could handle it.

Abigail guided me upstairs to Angie’s room. Through the thick door the sounds of an argument came through.

Abigail and I looked at each other and made faces.

Why are they fighting?

I knocked so hard on the door, my knuckles hurt.

The yelling stopped, and a few seconds later, the door opened. Damien’s usually perfect hair stood on end, and he scowled at me.

“Maybe you can get through to her.” He stomped to the foot of the bed and sat there with his arms crossed, like a small, petulant child.

Their suite was much like the one I stayed in, but the colors were gold and white.

Angie was paler than usual, and the lights were much brighter in here.

Mara sat next to her, with the bloody towel on Angie’s head. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, as if saying, “Awkward.”

“Let’s take a look at your eyes now that you’re awake,” I said, ignoring the tension in the room. Angie didn’t appear to have a concussion, which was surprising, and the hematoma had stayed about the same. The bump was more toward the top of her skull, as if the mallet had come down wielded by someone taller—or with a long reach.

“I need you to make her rest,” he said. “I feel horrible for letting her faint. Someone tried to poison her, and she should have stayed in bed.”

“She didn’t faint,” I said. He quite obviously hadn’t been listening when we’d all been on the floor. Angie had said someone hit her. Maybe he didn’t believe her, but I did.

He turned to face us. “What?”

“I’m certain someone hit her from behind with a blunt kitchen instrument. You probably kept her from being hurt further by hitting the floor hard.”

“I-I—what?” Angie said. I’d never seen her at such a loss for words.

“Someone tried to hurt her? Again? I’m going to kill them. Whoever it is, they are dead.” Damien jumped up and paced. “I could see her ex doing something like this, but he’s not alive. Why? Why is this happening?” He ran a hand through his hair. Then he shoved me aside somewhat roughly, to take Angie’s hand.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. I was right there, and I didn’t protect you.”

Angie touched his cheek. “Please apologize to Em and let her finish. Poor Mara’s arm is going to fall off if she must sit like this all night.”

Damien glanced at Mara and then over at me. His face contorted.

“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, Doctor. I—wasn’t thinking.” He moved away quickly.

“Sorry,” Angie mouthed.

I shook my head.

“Let’s get her in the bathroom,” I said.

Before we could help, Damien swooped in and carried her into the bathroom, which was more like its own suite. There were cushioned benches and plush chairs.

“Sit her down there in front of the vanity. And then why don’t you grab her some clean clothes, Damien.”

Her cute outfit was covered in blood.

“Right. Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” Angie said. “I want my llama onesie, please. And some of Jasper’s chocolate raspberry truffles and some macarons. If someone is trying to hurt me, I’m going to eat what I want.”

“I don’t want to leave you.” His voice was hoarse.

“I’ll be fine. Em and Abigail are the best at what they do. Go, please. I’m starving. But bring the clothes first.”

Abigail had rolled my kit in, and Mara sat on the side of the tub while I worked on Angie’s head.

“Stitches?” Angie asked.

“No. It’s fairly small. I’m going to glue it and use a waterproof plaster. Otherwise, we’d have to shave this part.”

“No,” she, cried out. “No shaving. I mean, at least, not there. Maybe a little on the sides, but not on the top of my head. I’ll look like one of those monks with the rope belts.”

I smiled. “I’ve got this,” I said. “Don’t worry. We do need to keep an eye on the bump forming, but we’ll be talking about that in a minute.”

We cleaned her up, and once we had her situated, we moved her back to the bed.

“Do you remember anyone being near you before this happened?”

She closed her eyes. “We were making the rounds and trying to visit with everyone before we ate. I wanted to get a feel for whether people were okay with the wedding continuing—you know, after everything that happened with Robbie.”

We nodded in unison.

“I’ve been having doubts—not about marrying Damien, but about doing it right now. We’ve all worked so hard on this wedding. We’ve spent so much money—not that it matters. I mean a man died. But I’ve wondered what the families thought.”

“What did you find out?” Mara asked.

“That everyone thinks we should get married. They see Robbie as some kind of villain. I’m not sure they are wrong.

“Ouch, Em—that hurts.”

“Necessary,” I said. I finished taping her head.

She took a deep breath.

“Except for Damien’s parents. They would be ecstatic if everything was canceled.”

“Which makes them the prime suspects,” Mara blurted out.

Angie gasped. “What? No. Is that what Ewan says?”

“No.” I glared at Mara. “Besides, even if he thought it, he wouldn’t comment on an ongoing investigation.” The last few words we all said in unison.

Angie shook her head and then winced.

“Do you want something for the pain?”

“No more drugs or medicine. I need to keep my wits about me.”

She squeezed her hands together. “Do you think someone really wants me dead—at my wedding? Why would they wait until now? Why not run me over on the street? Or … trip me down the stairs?” Her voice croaked on the last word.

Abigail and Mara had pulled chairs closer to the bed. I reached over and took her hand in mine.

“I don’t know, Angie. They hurt you in a room full of people. So we know they are bold and clever.”

She bit her lip. “Of all the things I thought might go wrong, the caterer’s, the cake—don’t tell Jasper I said that—I never imagined someone would die. Let alone that the person would be one of my exes.

“And now someone wants to kill me.” Tears slid down her cheeks. I wiped them away with my thumbs.

“My in-laws are not my biggest fans, but murderers?”

“We don’t know that’s the case,” I said. “The only thing we know is how Robbie died. But we don’t know if someone poisoned him. It really could have been an accident.”

“You don’t think it is, though, do you?” she asked me.

I shrugged. “I meant it earlier—I don’t know. What happened to you and Mara could have been an accident. I will say this for your in-laws: they weren’t in the room when someone handed you poison at your hen party.”

Her eyes went wide.

But they were the most likely suspects to bring Robbie into the game. “I’m going to ask again. Do you remember who was close before the lights went out?”

“There were several people in line to get food. Briony and Ethan were flirting over the potatoes. Mrs. Carthage was behind them and staring at me with a weird look on her face. Not disdain or meanness—more like she was worried about something.”

That was interesting.

“Damien’s brother, Caleb, was behind his mom,” she continued. “He was chatting up Deirdre, one of my bridesmaids, which is funny.”

“Why is that?”

“Men are not her type.” She smiled. “But I think she was having him on, because she smiled at him and laughed at something he said.”

“Anyone else?”

“It’s a blur. Same as the night before with the water. Someone handed it to me, but I was in a crowd. It could have been anyone.”

I took out the small notebook and pen I’d been carrying around. As ideas or suspects rolled around in my brain, I’d make notes.

“Let’s narrow down the crowd. Think about what happened right before you accepted the water.”

“We’d been playing games, and my butt was numb. I was about to get up, and then Marianne told a story about a wedding she’d been to in India, where the bride and groom met in person for the first time at the ceremony. They are still married. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yes,” Abigail said. “Do you know if they used a matchmaker?”

“I don’t know,” Angie said. “I’ve heard of people meeting online, but can you imagine getting married, and you’ve never—well, anyway, Damien and I may walk in different worlds, but at least we know we are compatible.”

The four of us could talk for hours about anything, so I had to get everything back on track. “Your butt was numb, but you ended up staying at the table to hear the story.”

“Right. Mara was next to me. No, wait. We did stand up. We tried to fan ourselves with napkins because of the stuffy air. Remember?” She pointed to Mara, who nodded.

“I said, ‘I’m so thirsty.’ And then someone said, I’ll get you something.”

“Do you remember the voice?” I asked.

She closed her eyes. “The music was loud. Other than that it was female, not really. Wait.”

We all leaned forward.

“The hand. She had long painted fingernails—the same color as the rest of the women in my wedding party. We all went for a spa day together. Whose hand was that?”

“Any other distinguishing marks on the hand? Was it young or old? Any jewelry?” I asked.

She breathed deeply. “It wasn’t wrinkly. This means someone in my wedding party is trying to kill me. Who would do that?”

“Again, it may not have been on purpose.”

“I don’t think you believe that,” Angie said. “Do you?”

“I’m not a detective. I’m trying to gather evidence and proof. But it’s quite difficult with the man who would be our main suspect dead.”

“I still can’t believe he’s gone. I feel bad for not mourning him more. That’s why I’m so conflicted over the wedding. Who gets married in a situation like this? Horrible, narcissistic people, that’s who.”

“Stop,” we all said at the same time.

“You are many things, my friend, but none of those. You are loving and caring. That guy hurt you. The only way you should feel is glad that he’s gone,” Mara said.

“She’s right,” Abigail added.

“Angie, whatever his reasons for being here, they weren’t good. Ewan would say I have no proof of that, but it is what I believe. There is no reason you should mourn a man who hurt you like that, or who possibly tried to kill you. Our friends are right.

“If you want the wedding to continue, then it should.”

She blew out a breath. “My head is so muddled. I don’t know what to think anymore. Mara, did you see anything?” she asked.

Mara shook her head. “At the hen do? I took the water from you, but I didn’t see who gave it to you.”

“Angie, did you see where she left the bottle?” I asked. “We haven’t been able to find the tainted one.”

“On the table, the long one under the window,” Angie said.

“That’s what I thought,” Mara added. “I started feeling weird quickly. I decided to get some fresh air, and then I found you in the garden.”

“How about you, Angie? Any quick symptoms?”

“Not that I remember. My cheeks were flushed. I felt tired and woozy, but I hadn’t slept for days. I’ve been so worried about everything going right. Ha. I thought the weather or food might be an issue.”

“Let’s stay on that night. Do you remember Mara leaving?”

“Yes. I was jealous because I couldn’t leave my own party. I was there until the end. I didn’t look at a clock, but it was probably around three or so. It was maybe about an hour after I went to bed that I threw up a few times. I just assumed it was nerves and not eating enough.”

As if on cue, the door slammed open, and we jumped.

My nerves were so raw that I jumped at every noise since we’d arrived at the castle. I wasn’t normally like that. In the ER, loud noises happened all the time. But I was low on sleep, and the castle was beautiful but creepy.

I didn’t believe in ghosts, but one could imagine there might be a few hanging out in the dungeon or down one of the long halls.

Damien entered with a huge silver tray of food. “I brought a bit of everything,” he said.

“Babe, someone in our wedding party is doing this,” Angie said. “I remembered a hand, and it wore the same nail polish as my bridesmaids, the steps, and my cousins. Can you believe that? Well, there are women from your side too, who were there.”

His face went pale. “I don’t understand what nail polish has to do with anything.”

Angie did her best to explain.

“Are we still blaming my family for this?” He sounded more curious than angry. He put the tray down in the middle of the bed and then sat close to Angie. He poured her a cup of hot cocoa and then offered us some.

“What do you think about all of this?” I asked. “Is there anyone in attendance who would want to hurt either of you? Be brutal.”

They glanced at each other, but Angie shook her head.

“My parents aren’t exactly happy about our marriage,” Damien said. He took Angie’s hands in his. “But they wouldn’t resort to something like this.”

“He’s right.” Angie sat up straighter. “They are more likely to say rude things in public. Violence isn’t really their style.”

Damian put his arms around her. “Babe, I thought they’d come around. I know Mom has. After spending time with you the last few months, she gets why you are so perfect for me. She told me when I went down to get you some food.”

Though they were wealthy enough to have hired someone.

“She did?” The surprise on Angie’s face made me smile.

He nodded. “She said, Dad doesn’t like anyone to be happy. That she would handle him. We needn’t worry anymore.”

“I saw her glancing at me before someone hit me. Maybe she saw whoever it was?”

“I’ll ask her,” I said.

“Doesn’t she need to rest?” Damien asked. “I don’t want her to worry about all of this right now. I just want her to get bloody well.”

“Angie, your soon-to-be husband is right.” I stood. “You need rest. However, you need to wake her up every few hours just in case she has a concussion. I’m not seeing any signs of it, but we need to make sure.

“If she starts to run a fever, has nausea, or seems confused, come and get me. Don’t wait.”

“Got it.” He followed us to the door.

“And do not leave her side,” I said. “Something strange is going on here, and until we get to the bottom of it, you two stick together. If anything happened to either of you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Angie sat back against the bed. “None of this is your fault, Em. You’re the reason Mara and I are alive and still have kidneys. I can’t imagine what would have happened to us if you hadn’t been here.

Angie turned to her fiancé. “Everyone we talked to tonight told me we should carry on with our wedding,” she said. “I take back what I said before. I’m grateful to be alive, and I want to marry you, Damien.”

“Luv, you know marrying you is what I want, but maybe we should …”

“Do not finish that sentence.” Angie’s jaw tightened.

Darn, we hadn’t moved quick enough.

“The person doing this is an evil bully, and we will not give them what they want. We are going through with this wedding. I’m not being one of those bridezillas, I promise. It’s more about not allowing some jerk to ruin our day.”

“Luv, someone has tried to kill you twice. I—I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. I’m still alive, right? Obviously, the universe wants us together, and we’re not about to go against the powers that be.” Angie had that determined look on her face, the one that had made her a successful businesswoman and one of the best friends I’d ever had.

“Lock the door,” I said. “No more arguing. The stress isn’t good for either of you. I mean it. Do not accept any food or drink unless you’ve picked it out of the kitchen yourself. If you need something, let me, Abigail, or Mara know. Understood?”

They nodded in unison.

“You’ll help us make the wedding happen?” Angie smiled.

She and Mara had been there for me when I needed them most. And Abigail and Tommy. Well, all of them really. Even the annoying Ewan.

“Yes.”

But first, I had to find a killer.