Page 2

TWO

While I was certain the priest was dead, I still checked his pulse. He didn’t have one, and his body was cool to the touch. There was a pool of blood on the desk, most likely from the letter opener sticking out of his heart. His eyes were wide, as if he’d been surprised.

“What are you doing?” Lizzie asked from the doorway.

Rob and Scott had followed me in and stared down at the body in shock.

“Is there anything we can do?” Rob asked.

“We shouldn’t touch anything,” I said. “I’m certain he didn’t stab himself, so the police will need to do forensics. Don’t come any further into the room. We don’t want to contaminate the scene.”

That said, I fumbled around quickly to see if his cassock had pockets. It did. I pulled a tissue from my sweater and used it to slide out his wallet. Since Mr. Poe and I kept finding dead bodies, I really needed to start keeping a pair of crime scene gloves in my pocket.

“Why do you get to touch things?” Scott asked.

“And ew, you’re touching a dead guy,” Rob said.

“I’m being careful,” I said. I flipped open the wallet. “Something about him bugged me from the get-go. I know priests are human and can be stern and unfriendly, but he seemed to go out of his way to be that way. I don’t know what his wallet might tell us, but it’s a start.”

I should have immediately called the detective inspector, Kieran, who just happened to be Lolly’s grandson. But once he arrived, I would no longer have access to the crime scene. I wish I had more control of my curiosity, but alas, I do not.

That curiosity gets me into trouble all the time .

There was a license with his picture. I took a photo with my phone so I could look him up later.

“Wait,” I said. “When we were on the whiskey tour didn’t Nora’s husband call him Father Brennen?”

“I think so,” Rob said.

“I wonder why his license says Carl Doyle. That’s weird, right? Why would he change his name?”

“I think nuns do that when they marry God,” Rob said. “But I’m not sure about priests.”

“The bigger question is, why would someone kill him here? And the even bigger question is, why haven’t you called Kieran?” my sister asked. “And has anyone thought about the fact there is a murderer in the castle?”

As she finished her sentence, there was a big boom of thunder, and we all jumped.

“You’re right. We need to call Kieran,” I said, as I stuffed the wallet back in the robes. I used my flashlight to scan the room once again. There were several books on the desk, as if he’d been doing some kind of research and I wondered what that was about. Nothing was turned over. There was no sign of a struggle. It was as if someone had stabbed him in the chest, and then he sat down at the desk.

I checked the carpet with my flashlight, and there was blood spatter on the floor near the curtains behind the desk. There weren’t any footprints, but the killer wouldn’t have been able to avoid the blood spatter. It would be on their clothes.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“What?” Rob asked.

The dead man’s hands were palms up and surprisingly clean. “I could see him not struggling if someone had stabbed him from behind. But he had to see it coming. So why didn’t he fight back? There should be defensive marks on his hands if he tried to stop the killer.”

“That’s something Kieran will need to figure out,” Lizzie said. “You need to call him. Now.”

It was time to bring the detective into the situation. Still, he would not be happy that we’d found another dead body. It had become common since we moved to the normally crime-free Shamrock Cove. We had a habit of showing up at the worst time.

Thunder rolled and there was a flash of lightning, and we all jumped again.

“This weather is wearing on my nerves,” Rob said.

“Same,” Lizzie said. “I’ll find Nora and her husband to tell them what is happening. Promise me you’ll let Kieran deal with this.”

I nodded.

“Rob, you stay here with Mercy and the body. I’ll go with Lizzie,” the always sensible Scott said. “Until we know what’s going on, I think we should travel in pairs.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said.

I dialed Kieran on my cell, but there was no ring, only odd clicking sounds like something couldn’t connect. “Darn,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have any bars. How about you?”

He glanced down at his cell and shook his head.

“There’s a phone on the desk. Maybe they have a landline.” Using my tissue so that I didn’t mess up any prints, I gingerly picked up the receiver. There was no dial tone.

“Anything?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“What do we do?”

“I have no idea. If all the lines are out, and the internet is down, we’ll have no way of reaching him.”

Outside the door I heard people talking excitedly. Nora and her husband entered. She put on the overhead lights and gasped.

“It’s true,” she said. “What do we do?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t understand.”

“I tried to call the detective in Shamrock Cove, but the cell towers must be down,” I said. “We tried the landline on the desk, but it didn’t work either.”

“That happens when we have storms,” Gordon, her husband, said. “I’ll drive into town and collect the detective.”

“You can’t go in this weather,” his wife said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know, love, but he’s dead. We can’t just leave him like that until the storm clears,” he said. “There is no telling how long that might be.”

“I can come with you,” Scott said.

Gordon nodded, and they took off.

“What should we do?” Nora asked.

“Go back to your guests and don’t tell anyone what’s happened. I’m going to stay here until the detective arrives,” I said. “We need to make certain no one disturbs the scene.”

Nora looked from the priest to me and shook her head. “I don’t suppose there is any chance he just fell on that letter opener.”

I understood her train of thought. She didn’t want to think about a killer being in our midst.

“One can only hope,” I said. “But I doubt it.”

“I cannot believe this is happening. It’s my worst nightmare come to life.”

“It’s not your fault,” Lizzie said, and she put her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. “My sister will figure this out. She’s not just a great mystery writer, the police often have her consult on cases. She’s helped solve quite a few murders.”

Only by sheer dumb luck, but I had a feeling Lizzie would keep that bit to herself.

“Rob and I will stay here and make sure no one enters the crime scene while we wait for the detective.”

“Are you sure?”

“Like Lizzie said, Mercy writes mystery books and works with the police on cases,” Rob said. “She knows what to do and is quite knowledgeable about police procedures.”

Nora glanced at each of us and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m not sure how I can act like I haven’t had the shock of a lifetime. I don’t think I’m that good of an actress.”

“Just think of playing your role as hostess. For everyone’s sake, try to keep the guests together,” I said. “Until we know what happened—well, it may not be safe. It is important to stay calm. You’re doing it for your guests. It helps no one if people become hysterical.”

I felt sorry for her. It was obvious she and her husband had gone to great lengths to refurbish the castle and the grounds. A bad review involving a murder on their first weekend wouldn’t exactly be great for business.

“It is crazy this is happening. That poor man. He wasn’t the nicest person, but no one deserves to go like that. And to think we have a killer here.” She shivered, as did my sister.

Mr. Poe pawed at Lizzie’s leg, and she scooped him up. He snuggled into her as if he sensed her unease. I don’t think she even noticed what he was doing.

“What if someone asks where he is?” Nora said.

“Just say he’s indisposed.”

“That’s a good idea,” Rob said.

“Did you know much about him?” I asked. “Like, how did he come to be here? And did he and the nun, Sister Sarah, come together?”

“He booked his stay about a month ago,” she said. “From what I understood, he was touring Ireland on holiday. And no, they didn’t come together. She showed up the day after him. But…”

“But what?” I asked.

“Well, they did seem to know one another. They bickered like an old married couple, though I couldn’t tell you what about. Anytime I came near them, they stopped talking. Do you think the nun killed him? Will I be struck down for blasphemy for even thinking that?”

“No,” Lizzie and I said at the same time.

“You’re only thinking what we all are,” Lizzie said. “But it is all speculation, and it won’t help the cause for us to think everyone is a suspect. Like my sister said, we have to act as if nothing has happened.”

Well, that was interesting, though. Sister Sarah must have known the deceased. Perhaps she had a reason for killing him. Though, Kieran would insist we find proof before accusing anyone of anything. And right now, there was nothing I could see that would indicate who had killed him.

I knew many of the other guests. They were our friends and neighbors. The Airendales and the birder, Fiona, hadn’t seemed to take much notice of the arguing priest and nun. Neither had Maximillian Herbert, the O’Sullivans’ accountant.

Had Sister Sarah killed him? It would have taken a great deal of force to push that blade into the heart. But what would have been her motive? It was too easy to blame someone, and investigators needed evidence, not supposition. If she did kill him, though, blood would be all over her clothing. That would be easy enough to prove.

Nora sniffed. “I’m not certain I can do this.”

Lizzie cleared her throat. “I’ll be there to help you. We only have to get through drinks and dinner. We’ll pretend nothing has happened. That’ll be safest for all of us. If a killer thinks we’re suspicious, that’s when bad things happen. In these instances, I’ve discovered it is best to play dumb.”

The other woman nodded and let Lizzie guide her away.

“Who do you think killed him?” Rob whispered as the lights flickered out.

“Well, it wasn’t one of us—at least, I hope not. From the sound of things, he and the nun didn’t get along and they knew each other. But if she’s a real nun?—”

“What?”

“Well, they are married to God, and I just can’t see someone of her stature being able to drive that letter opener through the ribs and up into the heart. The angle would be nearly impossible, even for a fully grown, much larger man.”

He grunted. “So, maybe the nun didn’t do it.”

“It’s suspicious that his name doesn’t match the one he gave the O’Sullivans. Was he hiding? And why? And why was he in this study?” Trying to stay away from the crime scene as much as possible, I perused the room with only the light from my phone. There were many books on the shelves, but everything appeared in order. Though I couldn’t see the ones at the top where the shelves met the ceiling.

“He was British according to his license. What was he doing here in Ireland in the middle of nowhere?”

I had so many questions.

“It sounds like one of your mystery novels with priests and nuns as the bad guys.”

The lights suddenly flashed back on. I was near the body and took some pictures. Gruesome, yes. But I had no idea when Kieran would show up so this was my only chance to take a good look.

That’s when I noticed the rosary in his hand.

It looked like the same one that Sister Sarah wore around her neck. It was broken, as if he’d ripped it off her.

I smiled. “I don’t normally use any sort of religious archetypes for fear of alienating readers, but something tells me these two are not who they pretend to be.”

“Really?” His eyes went wide.

I nodded. “It’s the name. I think he was pretending. I mean, if you’re going on the run, no one pays attention to you if you’re clergy, right? People just assume you are a decent guy when they see you in the robes and collar. I wish the internet wasn’t down so I could search his name.”

“You think all that because the names don’t match?”

I shrugged. “It’s all supposition. You’ve met me. I look at situations through a writer’s brain first. And he didn’t seem to be a decent guy. Not that someone from the church has to be. It’s just that he appeared to be very guarded and kind of nasty. He argued with the nun, so there was something not right there. And look at that.” I pointed to the rosary.

“Is that hers?”

“I saw her wearing it, but we won’t know until we ask her.”

“You can’t ask her questions. Kieran will kill you.”

I laughed. “You’ve met me. I can’t always contain my curiosity.”

“And you think the nun is also pretending?”

I pursed my lips. “I have no idea. But one thing has bothered me since we first met her.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“How many nuns do you know who wear lipstick?” I’d noticed the pink lipstick earlier when I’d first seen her at lunch. I was fairly certain nuns had to give up all worldly goods, and makeup would be part of that. Though, since she’d said to the owners she was on vacation, maybe she’d treated herself. “That and the rosary in his hand make me suspicious of her.

“Still, I can’t see her having the strength to kill him like this. She would have to be unnaturally strong.”

“See, that’s why you are good at this sort of thing. I hadn’t even noticed her face. I think I saw the habit and figured she’d look down on Scott and me, and I didn’t want to give her the chance to say something nasty—or give us one of those condescending looks.”

“Well, that’s her loss. To know you is to love you. And if they were good people, they should be accepting of everyone, especially you and Scott.”

“Thanks, friend.”

“I’m going to take a quick look around. If you see anyone coming, whistle or something.”

He laughed. “Kieran will be mad if you mess anything up.”

“I won’t touch anything. But I can’t just stand here doing nothing.”

“Okay. I’ll be your lookout.” He crossed over towards the doorway.

I moved slowly around the study, searching for any more clues. The furniture was upright, and nothing much seemed out of place. Well, except for the dead guy. The spatter of blood near the curtains continued to spread on the rug.

It made me wonder if someone had been hiding behind the curtains and had surprised him. Perhaps he’d even been sitting, and they stabbed him. I stared at the letter opener in his chest. The angle was wrong. The letter opener must have been razor-sharp and strong enough to go through the breastbone. And the angle was slightly upward as if someone knew what they were doing.

Stabbing someone in the heart wasn’t as easy as it appeared.

He must have died instantly, or there would be much more blood. So, the perpetrator stabbed him, and maybe the priest stumbled into the chair. Forensics would have a better idea.

But since the angle was upward, the killer could have been shorter. Or, maybe, they just knew what they were doing. The same thoughts kept rolling around in my head.

Neither scenario helped my nerves. The thunder boomed even louder, and the lights flickered out again.

“Someone’s coming,” Rob whispered.

I quickly moved into the doorway as if I’d been there the whole time. A very wet Scott and Gordon came down the hallway.

“Where’s Kieran?”

Scott shook his head. “The bridge connecting to the main road back to town is underwater. We couldn’t get across.”

“So, he isn’t coming?” Rob asked.

“No one will be able to get through until the storm stops,” Gordon said. “It’s a nightmare out there. We are used to the flooding, but it is a fair nuisance when it’s this bad.”

“It’s raining so hard you can’t see three feet in front of the car,” Scott said. “If Gordon didn’t have quick reflexes, we would have landed in the river.”

Rob went pale, and he gently grabbed Scott’s arm.

“I’m okay,” Scott said, patting his partner’s hand.

“But what do we do now?” Gordon asked. His face was red, and his voice harsh, as if he were angry. What I couldn’t tell was whether it was because this might have ruined their opening weekend, or whether he hated the priest. “Do we just leave him until the police can get here? Shouldn’t we move the body to a freezer or something? Out of all the things I thought might go wrong this weekend, this was not one of them.”

“Well, I’ve worked with the police, and I’ve done a lot of research as a writer. For right now, we need to leave the body where it is. It is cool enough in the castle to keep it from decomposing too quickly,” I said. “We shouldn’t move anything in a crime scene. We want everything to appear exactly as we found it.

“We’ll need to stand guard until Kieran and his team can get here. We can’t risk the killer coming back and removing evidence. Do we have any idea when the storm will end?”

“Not until early morning and who knows when the bridge will be passable,” Gordon said. “We’ll need to wait for the water to go down. I can take first watch.”

“Uh. Actually, why don’t you let me do that,” I said.

“But you’re a woman. It isn’t right.”

Scott and Rob’s eyes went wide.

I cleared my throat. “I am. I also understand how to preserve a crime scene. Kieran trusts me, and I think he’d prefer if I stayed.”

Or he’d be furious that I’d inserted myself into the situation. One never knew when it came to the detective inspector. Kieran could be a bit overprotective at times, but I’d realized a few months ago that it was only because he cared.

Poor Gordon didn’t need to know all of that. He had enough to stress about.

“Like we’ve said before, she has worked with the detective inspector on several cases,” Rob said. “And even solved a few.”

Gordon appeared confused. “But I thought you were a writer. It’s my home and my responsibility.”

“Let us help,” I said. “Kieran will appreciate that you’ve done your best. And like I said, he trusts me. It’s best to help your wife distract the rest of the guests. I mentioned that they should say the priest is indisposed for now. We’ll set up right here in the doorway with the door shut, so the killer will have no idea we are in here.”

And hopefully, the murderer wouldn’t be coming back.

“We’ll sit with her,” Scott said. “She won’t be alone. You can tell the others we had a bit too much of your fine whiskey.”

I hid my smile. They were quite protective of Lizzie and me.

“If you’re sure,” Gordon said. The poor man seemed like he didn’t want to leave. Did that make him guilty? I couldn’t tell.

“We are,” I said. “You can help us by keeping the other guests away from this area.”

He rubbed his hand through his hair and frowned. “We haven’t had a murder here since the early eighteen hundreds. I can’t believe this has happened.”

“Did you know the priest?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Only as a guest. He had a lot of questions about the property and was very interested in the castle’s history. He wanted to see all the books, and we’d let him use the study since many of the volumes are in here, as well as in the main library. I just thought he was a history buff.”

Well, that explained why he’d been in the room.

“Was there anything strange about him?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

I’d stuck my foot in my mouth. “Did he give you any reason to think he might be up to something shady?”

Gordon frowned. “He was a priest,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Right. Well, you should probably check on Nora and the guests. We’ll stand guard.”

The lights flickered out again throwing us into darkness, and there was a scream.

Great. Now what?