Page 3

THREE

I turned on the flashlight on my phone, and my friends did the same. “Could you tell where the scream came from?” I asked.

They shook their heads.

“Gordon, you and I will go investigate,” I said. “Rob, do you and Scott mind staying here until I can get back?” I really didn’t want to risk leaving the body unattended in case the killer returned. For all I knew, this could be a diversion to get us away from the scene of the crime.

“Is she always this bossy?” Gordon asked.

“Yes,” Scott and Rob replied at the same time. “But it comes in handy. We’ll cover things here. You go investigate the scream.”

Gordon and I headed down the long hallway.

“Besides our crew, how many others are here for the weekend?” I asked. We passed several rooms and doors that were closed. This place never seemed to end. If it weren’t for Gordon, we would have been lost long ago.

“That’s my wife’s side of things, but I think we have thirteen, including your group. Well, I guess twelve now. I cannot believe this has happened. It’s such a shock, and it hasn’t sunk in yet. My poor wife.” He sighed. “She’s worked so hard to turn the family enterprises around. If it weren’t for her, we would have lost all of this years ago.”

The ornate sconces along the hallway flickered off and on, and Gordon kept his flashlight on as he guided us along the way.

“But it’s your family’s legacy.”

He nodded. “Since the day we married, she’s taken it all on her shoulders. I’m a distiller at heart. Everything else is all her. She came up with the business ideas and revamped the estate. It has taken years, and this was supposed to be the weekend of her dreams. My heart is broken for her. I love her and I wish she didn’t have to deal with all of this.”

He was sweet and sincere. He dearly loved his wife. And though I hadn’t taken him off my suspect list, I couldn’t imagine him doing something that might upset Nora.

“And how long has the castle been open as a hotel?”

“Only a month or so. We did some trial runs to make certain we had the right number of staff and could handle the business. This is the first official weekend for all our events and classes.

“We’ve been doing the whiskey tastings for years, though. But visitors would only come for the tastings and then leave.”

“And do you know any of the guests this weekend personally?”

“No. Well, apart from our accountant, Maximillian, and Lolly. She and my ma were friends for years. Bless her soul.” He made the sign of the cross. “I’ve known Lolly my whole life, and she and my wife have become friends. It was Lolly’s suggestion to invite your group to help spread the word. And now, all of this has happened. We’ll never get off the ground.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. We’re good and fair people. This place is gorgeous. And this death isn’t your fault.” At least, I hoped not. “And you didn’t know the priest?” I went on.

“No. He was a guest just like the others. Like I said, he asked a lot of questions. But mostly he’s been keeping himself to himself. He asked for access to the books in the study. We didn’t see any reason to say no.”

“That’s odd, right? Why was he so interested in those old books? I mean, if he was a priest.”

“You think he was misrepresenting himself?” Gordon’s eyes opened wider in surprise.

Once again, I’d stuck my foot in my mouth by not curbing my thoughts. I had a tendency to talk to myself so much, that sometimes those words came out around others. It was my writer’s brain trying to figure things out. I decided to switch the subject.

“How did you and your wife meet?”

“Oh, we were wee ones. Our mothers were friends and both great gardeners. My wife followed in her mother’s footsteps and brought her love of nature to the estate when we wed.”

I smiled. “How long have you been married?”

“We’re going on thirty years. We were friends most of our lives but didn’t start dating until she came home from university. She has quite a business mind. I’d been so focused on the distillery that I’d let the rest of the estate go. But she turned things around. Mind you, if she hadn’t come up with this hospitality idea, we would have lost it all.”

“She sounds brilliant.” I loved that he was so proud of his wife and her business sense. The appreciation of her was evident in his voice. “But you have all this art on the walls, and antiquities. Could you not sell some of those?”

He shrugged. “It isn’t worth as much as you might think.”

I wondered what he meant by that.

“Anyway, you’re right. She is brilliant. Part of me feels guilty for pulling her into all of this.”

“Why is that?”

“There have always been rumors that this place was cursed, and there are times when I believe it. Like tonight.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

He shrugged. “It occurred under my watch. The fortunes of our family have been up and down throughout history. Just about every one of my relatives has died in an odd sort of way. My wife’s family seems to have fallen under that curse.”

“I thought the castle was built just a few hundred years ago.” It was odd to say, just a few, when most buildings in Ireland were older than anything we had in America.

“Even though we have turrets, it is legally considered an estate. And it was built by French noblemen. But everyone has always called it a castle.”

“You mentioned your wife’s family. What happened to them?”

“That was some bad business. Her parents were killed in a boating accident off the coast of Spain while on holiday—has to be nearly twenty years or so ago.”

“Oh, that’s terrible.”

The lights flickered back on, and I had to blink against the brightness.

“It was,” he said. “The boat capsized, and the authorities never discovered how or why. Like I said, odd deaths. It crushed my poor Nora, but she’s a strong one and so brave.”

I admired his appreciation for his wife. While I hadn’t spent much time with her, I’d taken an instant liking to her. She reminded me of Lizzie. Someone with an open heart who welcomed strangers.

We turned a corner at the end of the hall, and he made his way across the expansive entryway to a pair of double doors.

The lights flickered but stayed on as we entered the dining room. The place was filled with candles, and several guests stood around someone at the head of the table. They blocked the view so I couldn’t see who it was.

“What happened?” Gordon asked worriedly. “We heard someone scream.”

The guests parted, and we found Sister Sarah sitting in a chair, looking quite pale. Her foot was propped up on a small stool with a small bag of ice on her ankle.

“She says someone pushed her down the stairs,” Nora whispered. Her face was pinched with worry. “Sister Sarah, I’m so sorry this happened to you. Tell me what you need.”

I glanced over her shoulder to my sister, who had a perplexed look on her face.

“Ouch,” Sister Sarah said as she tried to move her leg. She appeared to be in great pain. But all I could think about was how had her broken rosary ended up in a dead man’s hand? Her habit was disheveled, and a peek of curly blonde hair showed through. It was obviously dyed an unnatural color.

I motioned for Lizzie to come away from the crowd.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Did you see what happened?”

“Mr. Poe and I were in the entryway trying to figure out which door led to the nearest bathroom,” she whispered. She stopped and glanced back over her shoulder.

“And?”

“I was coming out of the first room off the entry, which was not the bathroom, when I heard the scream. The lights were out, and it was so dark. There was the scream, and then I saw something white on the floor. It was her habit. I used my light on my phone and saw her sprawled out on the floor.”

“She says she was pushed,” I said.

Lizzie pursed her lips. “That’s the thing. I was right there. I didn’t hear her fall, and I certainly didn’t hear anyone else on the stairs. They’re wooden. Anytime you go up or down, it sounds like a herd of cows. And everyone except for you all came rushing out of the dining room when they heard the scream. Who could have pushed her?”

“Are you saying she lied?” I whispered the question.

Her eyes went wide. “Of course not, she’s a nun. Why would she lie?”

I shrugged. “She doesn’t act like any nun I’ve ever met, not that there have been that many.” But I’d done my fair share of charity work when I lived in the States. And nuns were usually at the forefront of creating schools and activities for the underprivileged near where I had lived in Manhattan. “Did you see her ankle?”

Lizzie shook her head. “She insisted on putting the ice on top of her stocking, so we couldn’t see anything. If she was lying, why would she do that?”

“To distract us,” I said. “And perhaps to draw any suspicion from herself regarding the priest. I mean, they did seem to know one another, and they were seen fighting more than once. But if she were doing that, why?”

She bit her lip. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

“That she is lying for some reason? Yes. But, like I said, the big question is why. It feels hinky no matter what.”

“Is Kieran here?”

I shook my head. “The bridge is underwater, and we have no cell or internet service at the moment. The cavalry can’t get here. The rain doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon.”

She frowned and then blew out a breath. The breath was a sign she was trying to control her emotions. “Oh, dear. What are we going to do?”

I patted her arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. And the storm should pass by morning. Gordon and I left Rob and Scott to keep an eye on the room with the body. I don’t want to risk the killer coming back to change or hide anything. We can’t be too careful, though. When we are in the larger groups, I need you to keep your eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.”

She shivered. “Why does this sort of thing keep happening?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. We do seem to find ourselves in the middle of trouble wherever we go. Just lucky, I guess.” I tried to make a joke, but she didn’t smile.

“Nora’s been talking about their resident ghosts,” Lizzie said. “She has so many stories that sound true I started to believe ghosts were real. My nerves were already on edge when we heard the scream.”

I smiled. “I don’t know about ghosts, but the family does have its fair share of unexplained deaths, according to Gordon, that is.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

“I know I’ve probably asked this already, but do you have any idea why someone would have wanted to kill the priest?”

I shook my head. “No. Except for the fact I don’t think he was a priest any more than Sister Sarah is a nun. That’s one of the reasons I came with Gordon to check on the scream. I was hoping to speak to some of the other guests. Is anyone suspicious about the priest?”

“No. I don’t think anyone has noticed he isn’t here.”

We moved back over to the others who were still circled around Sister Sarah, holding the bag of ice on her ankle. She winced a few times but was she really hurt? I wasn’t so certain.

“Madam, are you ready for dinner?” a woman asked from the doorway.

Nora looked around the room as if she wasn’t certain what to do. She appeared near tears, and I didn’t blame her. It had been a crazy night and she was trying to pretend that there wasn’t a dead guy in her study.

“I could do with some food,” Lolly said, taking over. “I think we all could.” She was good at that sort of thing. She was one of the kindest women I’d ever met, but she had an authoritative voice. And I’d never seen anyone argue with her.

“Right, then,” Nora said. “Cook, we are ready.”

The American couple and our neighbor Brenna helped to position Sister Sarah’s chair and the stool her foot rested on so she could face the table. I sat down on the right side of the nun with my sister next to me. Lolly and Brenna sat on the other side.

The soup course was one of my favorites, Colcannon with potatoes. The nun clasped her hands and bowed her head. She whispered some words. Lolly bowed her head as well, and we followed suit.

The words she said didn’t sound like any prayer I’d ever heard. But who was I to judge? Still there was something odd about her. When she stopped her prayer, we raised our heads.

The soup was hearty and quite tasty. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry. I felt a bit guilty for leaving Rob and Scott behind, but this was my chance to have some casual conversations with the other guests.

“I’m sorry to hear about your accident,” I told the sister. “I hope your ankle will be okay.”

“Wasn’t an accident, I tell you. I was pushed. I’m lucky to be alive. I’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

Bruises no one would be able to see since she was covered from head to toe.

That was terrible to think, but I believed my sister. If she thought the nun was faking the accident, then she was. Lizzie was always aware of her surroundings. Unlike me, who was often lost in thought as characters spoke in my head. I had to force myself to be in the present. And this was one of those times when I needed to be aware.

“But you didn’t see anyone?”

“It was pitch-black,” the nun said angrily. “How was I supposed to see anything? There was no light.”

“Maybe it was a gust of air,” Brenna offered. She was supermodel beautiful and reminded us of Lupita Nyong’o. She was just as gorgeous on the inside and had become a lovely and dependable friend. “The castle does have odd drafts. I felt one on the second-floor staircase and in my room. It was so strong it lifted the bottom ruffle of my shirt. And the windows were closed tight.”

She shivered.

“Maybe it was one of the ghosts they keep talking about,” Fiona, the birder, said from Brenna’s other side. “I’ve been reading the pamphlets, and they talk about all the restless spirits who live here. Centuries of them. Nora has been sharing some of those stories, as well.” She sounded like she believed what she was saying.

Lizzie and I stared at one another.

“Most likely drafts,” Lolly said in her practical way. “Mind you, we Irish are a superstitious lot, but this place is drafty as they come. It doesn’t matter how many improvements they do. It’s the way the place was originally built to carry air throughout during warmer months. Even with proper heating, there are going to be drafts.”

Everyone tucked into their soup.

“Sister, how did you hear about the castle? Did you come with Father Brennen?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. I was curious about what she might say.

Her jaw tightened.

That wasn’t suspicious at all .

“No. I’ve never met him before,” she said offhandedly.

“Oh, I saw you, uh, chatting during the whiskey tour. I thought you knew one another.”

“No,” she said sternly. “I came on my own. My order is thinking about creating a business making soap. I came to see how they ran things here. Mind you, we wouldn’t be having guests stay. But they could tour our facilities and shop.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Lizzie said. “What kind of soap?”

The sister gave her a hard stare. I would have given millions to know what was going through the woman’s head.

“Soap using goat’s milk. There may also be a skincare line if we are successful in our initial efforts.” She sounded rehearsed. Something wasn’t right about her.

Or maybe my imagination was in overdrive.

That happened sometimes. My brain never stopped trying to write books. I could find inspiration for stories everywhere I looked.

But this was a real murder and I had to separate fiction from fact. The nun was at the top of my list. Even though I had none of that pesky evidence Kieran would insist was necessary.

He was right. I tended to go more by my gut. And it said Sister Sarah was up to no good.

The rain pounded against the stained-glass windows, and the wind howled around the castle, making an eerie sound. I shivered.

The servants cleared our plates. The next course was a delicious corned beef brisket with garlic cabbage and peas.

“Nora, where is Father Brennen?” the nun asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as we ate. For someone who didn’t know the man, she seemed extremely curious. And it seemed like she might be trying to draw attention away from herself.

Nora went a bit white and choked on her beef. “Uh, he’s indisposed,” she said quickly.

The nun stared down the table suspiciously, which raised the hackles on my spine. I’d always wondered about that phrase, but I understood it now.

“Where exactly is your order?” I asked. The words came out a bit sharply, and Lizzie nudged me with her elbow. “I mean, it’s just that you don’t sound Irish.”

“I’m not. I’m British. Cornwall,” she said, without turning to look at me.

“I hear it’s lovely there,” Lizzie said. “I’ve always wanted to visit the coast. Maybe we can take a vacation there next year and visit your nunnery if you have your business up and running by then.”

My sister sounded sweet and positive. But I could tell she was trying to dig a little further.

The nun nodded but didn’t bother saying anything.

Between the makeup and the dyed hair, I would bet a dozen doughnuts this woman was no nun, and that she had murdered the priest. Or at the very least she’d been involved. The rosary she’d been wearing earlier was in the dead man’s hand.

Now, I just had to prove it.