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EIGHT

That afternoon was another tasting of the Irish whiskeys the O’Sullivans made. Everyone was in attendance, except of course the priest and nun. The other guests kept asking questions of me, and each other. They were all curious about what might have happened to our religious guests.

We were seated around a large wooden bar in the corner of the distillery. A flight of whiskeys sat in front of us.

“I know there are people around, but you have got to tell me what is going on. I haven’t seen you this tense in months,” Lizzie said.

My sister knew me better than anyone else in the world, and she was my twin. There was no way I could hide any of this for much longer.

I shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed. “You will tell me what is happening when we get back to our room.”

One thing was certain, someone was determined to sabotage the opening weekend of the castle. But was it only to hurt the O’Sullivans? Or had the killer been after the priest and nun specifically? Or was it about something in the castle? I had far too many questions, and not one of the guests seemed to know them prior to the weekend.

“Today, we will be tasting some of our blends,” Gordon said. He was so passionate about his whiskeys. “The first is a classic Irish Buck with citrus.”

Whiskey and bourbons were my preferred drink, and everything we’d tasted so far was delicious. The Irish Buck was no exception.

He explained the process, but I watched the other guests around the bar.

Could one of them be a killer? I’d asked myself that same question so many times my head hurt. Or maybe it was all the whiskey.

Killers needed motives. So far, everyone I’d spoken with didn’t know the victims.

When the tasting was over, the other guests exited the distillery. Lolly and Brenna followed them out. But Lizzie, Rob, and Scott blocked the door.

“You need to tell us what is going on,” Lizzie said.

I glanced behind me. “I will, but not here. I swore to Kieran that I would keep things quiet.”

“From everyone else, maybe,” Scott said. “But not us. We already know about the priest. Is the nun dead as well?”

I nodded.

Lizzie gasped. “Really?”

“Mr. Poe and I found her in the pond this morning.” I went on to explain.

“I was so certain she was the one who killed the priest,” Scott said. He took off his cap and rubbed his bald head.

“Do they have any idea who is doing this?”

“Not a clue, I don’t think. They’re still sorting through all the forensics and doing background checks. We just need to keep our eyes open and travel in pairs, okay? Everyone be careful.”

“There is something I overheard from that accountant guy, Maximillian,” Rob said. “I heard him on the phone talking about a treasure.”

“What? Like a real treasure? Are you sure that is what you heard?”

“Yes. He walked away before I could hear more. I was more curious why his cell worked when the rest of us have such spotty reception.”

That was a good question.

“Okay. I’ll let Kieran know. But promise me you will all be careful.”

“We promise,” Lizzie said. “Can you do the same?”

I made the sign of the cross over my heart like we used to do when we were children. “I promise.”

What Rob had overheard from the accountant was odd. A treasure in the castle? That seemed a bit much. Still, I would explore that idea with Kieran at some point. That is, after doing some research of my own.

Later that night, I was hungry, and Lizzie, Mr. Poe, and I headed downstairs in search of a snack, and to let the dog out for his nightly constitution. The staff had left an array of sweets and sandwiches on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, for those who needed a bite before bed.

With all the walking we’d been doing, and the fact that I don’t do lamb, which was what we’d been served for dinner, I was starving. I’d spent the hour and a half after dinner trying to pretend that all was well with my sister, even though she’d peppered me with one question after another. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out. I’d told her, Rob, and Scott most of what I knew, but she had a sense I was holding back.

Being a twin had its pitfalls and keeping secrets was one of them.

As we headed down the stairs, my stomach grumbled.

“You really are hungry,” Lizzie said.

“The smell of lamb nearly did me in at dinner.”

“I don’t understand that. You’ve never been a picky eater.”

I shrugged. “I’ve just never liked it. Like I said, even the smell puts me off. All I can think of is those sweet baby lambs and I’m done in.”

“Yuck. When you put it like that…”

“See?”

She nodded. “I can take Mr. Poe out if you want to stay here and eat.”

“Nope. From now on we are connected at the hip. Besides, I can eat on the go,” I said. I took a paper napkin and loaded a small pork pie on it, along with a sugar cookie. “I meant what I said, we don’t go anywhere alone, okay?”

She sighed. “When we get outside, you’re going to tell me exactly what has been happening. I know there is more going on than you’ve admitted to.”

There was no way around it. I would have to tell her the truth. We put on wellies by the back door, and grabbed flashlights as there was very little lighting outside.

A light rain had started again, so we grabbed a couple of umbrellas as well.

A stone path circled the long way around the castle, and we followed it. While Mr. Poe sniffed at the ground, Lizzie put a hand on my shoulder.

“Okay, tell me everything.”

“Kieran told me I couldn’t,” I said honestly.

“Right. That’s fine with the others, but this is me. Let me in so I can help you.”

I sighed. “Well, as I said, Sister Sarah is dead. Again, no clue who the perpetrator might be.”

“This place is getting creepier by the minute.” She glanced all around as if the killer might be following.

“I know what you mean.”

“You didn’t say how she was murdered? Was it a letter opener again?”

“No to the letter opener. It looked like she was maybe strangled, or it might have been drowning, or both. I’m hoping once they do a postmortem, Kieran will share the information with me, but as far as I know right now, she’s just very dead,” I said.

“That’s awful. I can’t believe you and Mr. Poe found her. Were you scared?”

I sighed. “Yes. But Kieran will kill me if he finds out I said anything to you.”

“Well, you didn’t say much. I asked you questions, and you answered truthfully. Why would someone want to kill a priest and a nun?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “Mr. Poe has become quite adept at finding dead bodies. It’s a bit scary if you ask me.”

As if he agreed, he yapped and then ran toward some conifers by the distillery.

Lizzie shivered. “I’m regretting persuading you to come here,” she said. “I thought this would be a good getaway for the both of us. We’ve been working so hard lately. Now two people are dead, and you’ve had to deal with dead bodies again. It’s awful, for you and them.”

I crooked my arm in hers. “Mostly for them. It is not your fault,” I said. “I’m glad we are here. Think about it. There are so many rooms in this castle. Who knows how long it would have taken for them to find the priest if it hadn’t been for Mr. Poe?”

“Still. You know how nervous I get when there are deaths. What if the murderer is still here?”

“They probably are,” I said. “Not to scare you. But the nun had to have been killed in the last twenty-four hours and since then, the road out of here has been blocked by water and then the police.”

“You’re not making me feel any better.”

“Sorry. But it’s true. That’s why I don’t want you going anywhere alone while we’re here.”

“I’m worried about you being in danger again. Kieran likes you. He would let us go home if you asked him.”

“Not without alerting the others staying here. Think about it. His grandmother is here. If he was truly worried about our safety, he would have evacuated her first.

“He thinks as long as we don’t ask the wrong person questions, then we should be perfectly safe. And Kieran likes the idea of keeping everyone together for as long as possible. As of right now, no one but us, and our friends, know a murder has been committed. Well, us, and the killer.”

“Do you have any suspects?”

“Everyone here who isn’t a friend of ours,” I said.

“Really?” She gasped.

“My prime suspect in the priest’s murder was the nun. He wasn’t who he said he was, and now I’m wondering about her. I feel like we may be back to square one.”

“Like, maybe they were both here under false pretenses.”

“Yes. And he was carrying ID with a different name. I pulled her out of the pond, but she didn’t have anything in the pockets of her habit. I wanted to search her room, but Kieran had Sheila box everything up and put it in the incident room here at the castle.”

“Let me guess. You want to sneak into the incident room and take a look?”

“Well, yes. You know how my brain works. I can’t just let it go. And maybe I’ll see something that will help.”

“No ego there.” She laughed. “I know you sometimes forget but you write fiction. You aren’t the detective in your novels.”

“As you and Kieran keep reminding me, how can I forget? You know what I mean. A fresh pair of eyes and all of that. It isn’t like we haven’t been useful in the past.”

“Just because you’ve helped solve a couple of crimes doesn’t mean you should do this every time. We don’t want to alert the killer we are on to them.”

It was difficult for me to explain. Even though I didn’t know those who had died, I felt a sort of responsibility because we’d found them. That and the fact that my writer’s brain would not let things go. It was the way I was made. I could be a bit obsessive-compulsive in that regard.

“You’ve grown closer to Kieran, why don’t you just ask him if you can look through things?” Lizzie asked.

I sighed. “I did. And I even gave him a picture of someone watching the priest and nun argue. But it was blurry, and there was no way to see who it was.”

She shivered again. “You think it was the killer?”

“Possibly. With the nun out of the picture, the murderer has to be either a guest, one of the O’Sullivans, or someone who works at the castle. I can’t imagine the O’Sullivans causing themselves this much trouble on opening weekend. But it might be one of the other guests, or someone else who works here. Since the trouble just started this weekend, I’m thinking it might be one of the guests.”

“Maybe we should ask Rob and Scott to come with us when we walk Mr. Poe. You know, safety in numbers,” Lizzie said.

“It’s not a bad idea. Promise me that you’ll always have me, or one of our group, with you, inside and outside the castle.” The rain started up again, as the clouds covered the moon. We’d walked all the way down the hill toward the distillery.

“I promise. Unlike you, I’m afraid of trouble. I don’t run toward it.”

There was a weird squeaking sound as we neared the distillery. We stopped and looked at one another.

“You heard it, too?” I whispered.

Even in the darkness, I could see her eyes widen and the frown lines cross her brow.

“We should check it out.”

“No,” she said. “We should not. We should go back to the castle and tell Kieran that we heard a strange noise. Did you not just hear what I said about running toward trouble?”

Sensing our anxiety, Mr. Poe ran back to Lizzie and put a paw on her foot. It was his signal for her to pick him up.

She did it, I’m sure without thinking. Those two were so emotionally tied it was as if he was human sometimes. He was there to comfort her before she even realized she needed him. We’d both bonded with him, but he was definitely her dog.

I headed toward the doorway of the distillery, which I was certain had been the source of the sound. Why would anyone be out here this late at night?

That is, unless they were up to no good .

“Mercy, stop,” my sister called out. “I mean it. Let’s go back and get Kieran. There is no need for us to become part of some horror film where the heroine walks toward the danger.”

“There are two of us, and I just want to take a quick look inside. Then we can go tell Kieran. For all we know, it could have been the wind that blew the door open to the distillery, and I don’t want to trouble him for that.”

But my gut, which I trusted, was telling me something else.

“Mercy, I don’t like this.”

“I promise we’ll stay right by the door. I just want to peek in.”

“I’m going on the record that I protest.”

“It’s fine. Everything will be okay. I’m going to open the door a bit more, look inside, and then we’ll head back to the castle. Probably whoever was in there last didn’t shut it properly. It’s starting to rain sideways again. All of that water is going straight into the distillery. The least we can do is shut the door for them.”

She sighed, and I didn’t wait for her to agree. I headed for the door. It did squeak, which had definitely been the sound we heard.

But when I opened it, I very much wished I hadn’t.