“From the looks and smell of him, he’s been on a bender,” Tara said.
“I believe he’s only just found out about Veronica’s death.” Interesting. Danny was keen to defend Eddie. He also avoided the word murder. She didn’t blame him. Murder was a horrible word. But that’s what this was. She motioned for Danny to follow her outside. The evening was cooling off. The heat wave had passed and there were rumors of storms on the way.
“If he’s just arrived,” Tara said, “I wonder where he’s been?” Creating an alibi? Pretending he wasn’t even here when she was murdered?
“Most likely working. He’s always working.”
Tara shook her head. “Veronica said he hasn’t created in years.”
“Years?” Danny looked devastated.
“Where did you first see his art?”
“The annual art festival in Galway. People come from all over the world.”
Tara knew all about the art festival and was looking forward to experiencing it. She filled Danny in on her run-in with Iona.
“Maimed for life because of Veronica,” Danny mused. “I’d say that’s a strong motive for murder.”
“And if she’s not maimed for life—because I’m pretty sure I saw her walk without a limp—then she’s been milking Veronica for money.”
“Pretty sure that isn’t enough to call her out.”
“I’m not about to call anyone out. I’m just saying—What if she’s faking the injury and Veronica found out?”
Danny shifted, looking uncomfortable with the discussion. “Bad news if that’s the case.”
“Right? Veronica specifically said in writing that she had eyes on Iona.” Tara began to pace. She wasn’t going to call Iona out to her face, or in front of the other suspects, but she was going to have to say something to Sergeant Gable. He wasn’t going to like that she was involving herself with them. She was pretty sure she was in for a lecture. “Iona also told me that she heard Cassidy and Veronica arguing Friday night.”
“Who’s Cassidy?”
“Sorry. Veronica’s niece.” Tara hesitated, leaving out that she was a young, hot blonde. Danny was part hound dog, after all.
“You have inserted yourself pretty quickly, haven’t you?”
“It’s my job.”
Danny didn’t get a chance to reply; from behind them a high-pitched scream rang out. They whirled around. Mimi barreled past them. “He’s here?” Mimi practically threw herself on the check-in desk, bellowing at the startled clerk sitting behind it. Tara and Danny edged in behind her. “Call his room and get Eddie Oh down here now.” Tara didn’t hear what the clerk responded. “I don’t care! Tell him the castle is on fire and he’d better get his behind down here if he doesn’t want to burn!”
“Drama,” Danny said. Just then, Sheila and John Murphy entered. As the entrance doors flew open, Tara caught a glimpse of Andy and Bartley standing by the SUV. Andy was smoking, Bartley was on his mobile phone, pacing as he talked. Tara wouldn’t mind having a chat with Bartley. He had to know something about the events of Friday evening, not to mention how and why Veronica decided to go to Clifden Castle hours earlier than she had originally planned. But before she could make her way to them, a blond bombshell appeared in a red dress. Cassidy Hughes. Tara didn’t have to look at Danny to know his mouth was hanging open. Cassidy Hughes took her time, and scanned the lobby, as if the twentysomething expected all eyes to be on her. And to be fair, they were. And to be honest, Tara really wished they weren’t. She could only imagine how upstaged Veronica had felt by her femme fatale niece. Green marble for jealousy?
“There you are,” Mimi said, hurrying toward the young woman.
“I told you I would be here,” Cassidy said. “Have you called the funeral home? I want to see my aunt.”
“The guards won’t allow that yet,” Tara said without thinking.
Cassidy Hughes slowly turned to Tara and she took a moment to rake her gaze over her, as if conducting an on-the-spot inspection. It was difficult to discern her eye color; her pupils were so big they looked black. The phrase devil in the red dress flashed through Tara’s mind. “Who are you?”
Mimi grabbed the woman’s arm and began hauling her off. “Never mind her. We need to talk. All of us.”
Tara’s hands clenched into fists at her side. Mimi was the one who insisted Tara continue with the job. The one who offered her the room at the castle. Now she was treating her like a nobody. Even Veronica had given her more respect. Something had wound Mimi Griffin into this state and Tara wanted to know what it was. She felt Danny’s breath in her ear. “Making friends already.”
Tara shoved Danny slightly in front of her. For once his hound-dogging might come in handy. “Find out what’s going on.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Flirt.”
He gave her a side-eye. Then looked across the room where Cassidy Hughes was posing, hair cascading down her back, hip jutted out, and extremely fake eyelashes that seemed to be doing the blinking for her. Danny grinned. “If I must.”
Tara resisted the urge to kick him. She found a giant potted tree and edged behind it. Not that Cassidy was paying any attention to little old Tara. Did she think Tara was old? Twentysomethings definitely thought thirtysomethings were old. She moved a leaf away from her mouth, and focused.
It only took moments of Danny O’Donnell standing in front of Cassidy Hughes for the woman’s laughter to peal across the lobby. Tara felt a stab of jealousy on multiple fronts. The obvious, of course, that the man who made her adrenaline fire anytime he gave her a lingering look, was now flirting with this gorgeous creature. But more so, Cassidy’s genuine laughter within seconds of meeting him was a sudden reminder that she was an outsider. The Irish, she’d noted, laughed more than she did.
She’d experienced it time and time again when something someone said elicited a smile from her, but belly laughs from them. Tara wished she was the same. Was there something wrong with her? How could she be more like them? Even in the midst of a murder, there was mirth. And Danny O’Donnell took to flirting like a duck to water. And despite being the one who asked him to flirt, Tara was imagining tarring and feathering him.
* * *
“Cassidy Hughes,” Danny said proudly when he returned from his assignment.
“I know her name,” Tara said, hoping she didn’t sound jealous but knowing she did. They were in the dining room, enjoying the dinner buffet, but all their suspects had dashed off somewhere secret.
“She’s Veronica’s niece,” Danny continued. “But not by blood.”
“Terrance Hughes,” Tara said. “The first husband.” She’d learned a thing or three from Mimi Griffin and Google. Terrance Hughes had been some kind of media mogul. He and Veronica had been quite the power couple.
“Correct.” He hummed as he ate, which was both adorable and irritating. The full buffet and a carving station was a sight to behold: lamb, turkey, roast beef, ham, and potatoes made three ways to Sunday, wild salmon, presumably from the river they could see from the windows, and carrots and parsnips, and bacon and cabbage, and shepherd’s pie, and seafood chowder, and potato and leek soup, and brown bread, and soda bread, and Tara hadn’t even looked at the dessert table yet, but it seemed Danny had a sample of everything and was very much communing with his plate. Tara was so worked up she could barely eat her bacon and cabbage.
“Anything else?”
“I think she works in fashion. Or at least that’s what her Instagram followers think.” He took a second to look up. “I’m one of them now.”
“One of what?” Tara snapped.
“Her followers.” He hid his grin in his plate. He was definitely enjoying this. Tara wished she hadn’t made that silent vow to not drink in honor of Veronica, because she really wanted a whiskey right now. And not a shot. Entire bottles. And if she finished them, she could clunk Danny over the head with the empties. Instead, she focused on their suspects.
Cassidy Hughe
s. Iona Kelly. Eddie Oh. Sheila and John Murphy. Mimi Griffin. Six of the seven Veronica had gathered. Tara thought over the list. There was one still missing. Elaine Burke. Lainey. The best friend. Veronica said she’d stolen the love of her life. Was she talking about her first husband, Terrance Hughes, the mogul? Did Veronica steal him away from Elaine Burke? Why hadn’t Elaine arrived?
“Need me to flirt with anyone else?” Danny asked with a hopeful edge to his voice. “I’m happy to oblige.”
The dining room was beginning to fill up, but there wasn’t a hint of any of their suspects. Weren’t they supposed to meet for dinner? Had their plans changed? Tara pulled out her cell phone as Danny left the table and returned with, of all things, an apple tart topped with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream. Tara contemplated grabbing a spoon, but they hadn’t reached the eating-off-each-other’s-plates stage of their relationship yet. And from the way Danny ate, she had the feeling they never would. “Yes. Elaine Burke’s room, please.”
“You’re calling the lobby of this hotel from the restaurant?” He raised his eyebrow as she lifted a finger to her lips.
“I see. Have you heard from her? Oh. Yes. I understand.” She hung up. “They won’t give me additional information.”
“Shocker.”
“But Elaine Burke hasn’t shown up. I wonder if the guards are following up on that.”
Danny jabbed a fork in her direction. “If a guard walked into your shop one day and suddenly decided to run it, would you let him?”
“What?”
“Answer the question.” She eyed the last few bites of his apple tart. He did not offer her any.
“Why would a guard show up and want to run my shop?”
Danny pinned her with a look. “Now isn’t that an excellent question?”
“Fine. I’m too involved. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“Look, I get it. This woman sweeps into your shop with compliments, and big plans, then suddenly her life is snuffed out. It’s drama. And you thrive on it.”
“I do not.” She hesitated. “She hired me. And Mimi Griffin insisted I complete the job. This is business.” Danny had part of it right. A woman’s life had been snuffed out. It wasn’t right. And like it or not, Tara had been dragged into this. She was simply trying to find her way out.
Danny finished the apple tart and wagged his finger at her. She wanted to bite it. “Business is your shop is opening—technically, as an employee of the salvage company, may I be so bold as to say ‘our’ shop is opening in less than a week—and instead of focusing on it, you’re here hiding behind plotted plants and worried about people you’ve never even met!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Tara glanced toward the lobby. She didn’t realize Danny had seen her hiding behind the plant while he flirted. Was she that obvious? Were they all laughing at her? “I know I’m getting a little worked up. But Veronica was such a vibrant force. She brings this group together to give them a free trip and make amends, and this is how one of them repays her?” The waiter arrived with coffee and hot water. Danny took tea, while Tara took coffee. What did it matter? She couldn’t imagine herself getting to sleep tonight anyway. Several cups of caffeine a day keeps killers away! “And there’s more.”
Danny sipped his tea, then clinked it down. “More?”
“It can’t be coincidence that I found Nancy Halligan’s body.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the flyer for the old stone house. “Someone left this under my door knocker at the shop.”
“Knocker,” Danny said, chuckling.
“Get over it, frat boy. This is serious.”
Danny studied the flyer. “What about it?”
“Because of this flyer, that I thought was from you, I went to that old stone house, and found Nancy’s body!”
“Are you saying it’s my fault?”
Were they really doing this? Fighting in the upscale restaurant of the Ballynahinch Castle? “No. I’m saying I was lured there. Maybe by the killer.” She held her breath. She’d finally spoken her biggest fear out loud. It sounded outlandish. Part of her knew that. It was also true. Part of her knew that. She wondered how many parts of her existed and would they ever be able to get along?
Danny pondered this. “First, didn’t the guards say she died of a heart attack?”
“Yes. But why didn’t she have water? Or a phone? Or anything on her?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I think someone brought her there, then somehow left her in a vulnerable position so she couldn’t go for help.”
Danny jostled the flyer. “The same person who left this under your door knocker?”
“Yes.” Was he finally taking her seriously? She hoped so. She didn’t want to be alone in her paranoia. She also didn’t want to be right. But he wasn’t talking her out of her crazy theories, he was considering them.
“Why? None of these people even know you.”
“True. But Veronica had already decided to hire me. Because of the article written about me, and the name of the shop. Renewals. She was renewing her life and thought I’d be a perfect fit.”
“I’m still not following.”
“What if the killer knew Veronica planned on hiring me? Knew she had the article. Decided to get me more involved. Wanted me to find Nancy’s body.” There was a time she wondered if that someone was Veronica. But now that Veronica was gone, Tara was no longer sure that made sense.
“Why?”
“I don’t know!”
Danny put his hands up. “Lower your voice.”
She wanted to snap back, but he was right. People were listening. The walls were probably listening. A killer could be listening. She lowered her voice. “And then there’s the book.”
“What book?”
Had she really not told him any of this? “Places to See in Ireland Before You Die. Someone left it in my shop.”
“That’s it,” Danny said. “We’re out of here.” He stood and looked around. “Do we have the check yet?”
Tara stood. “The meals are already paid for. By Veronica.”
Danny shut his eyes for a moment to absorb that. They exited quickly, and Tara had that guilty feeling like they were doing a dine and dash. They stood in the lobby, the air thick between them. Tara placed her hand on his arm.
“The guards are questioning me too. Clearing my name is good for our shop.”
He moved his arm away from her touch. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“What?”
“I happen to know the guards have already seen the security tape from the mill. You entered at six p.m. and there’s no sign of you until the guards knock on your door the next morning. We handed over the tape. Your alibi is clear.”
“Good.” Shoot. What excuse was she going to use now? It was hard to explain, but she couldn’t drop this. She just couldn’t. The fact that someone was drawing her into this morbid game made her even more determined to find out who it was and stop him or her.
“Let’s get out of here. You can get back to focusing on the shop, and we never have to come here again.”
“What do you have against castles?” Tara tried to keep her voice light and flirtatious. She didn’t want Danny browned off with her.
“The draft,” Danny said with a straight face. “It’s a little chilly in here.”
“My room is paid for, and I’ve been hired to source gifts for all of them. I’m staying.”
“You’ll be staying alone then. I prefer the comforts of home.”
A home which he had never invited her to experience. And here he was letting her know in a jovial way that he wasn’t going to spend a romantic night with her in a four-star castle. What was his deal? Should she just decide, here and now, for herself, that she and Danny O’Donnell were friends and business partners, and never, ever anything else? No matter how handsome and charming he was. No matter how lonely she was? No matter how much he made all her cylinders fire? “Fine,” she said. “I’ll walk you
out.”
“Aren’t you a gentleman,” Danny said. They were silent as they headed out to his car. The weather had taken the same turn as their relationship, cold and biting. Tara was trying to figure out what she could say to repair some of the damage when two figures hurried past them. She recognized the wild black-haired man, who had at least showered and instead of whiskey she caught the scent of cologne. Eddie Oh. Next to him was an older woman trying to keep pace with him.
“Was that Eddie?” Danny stopped in his tracks, his eyes glued to the pair.
“Yes.”
“Who is he with?”
“I was wondering the same thing.” Who is over-involved now? “You want to follow him, don’t you?” Tara kept her voice light.
“We’re here,” Danny said, giving her a sheepish look. “Might as well make it an all-nighter.”
Chapter 12
Eddie and the mysterious woman slid into a taxi that was waiting to pick them up.
Danny looked dejected as he glanced at his truck. “What’s up?” Tara said. “Let’s follow them.”
“I’m nearly out of petrol. Believe me, you don’t want to get stranded in the dark out here.”
Tara spotted Andy, standing by his SUV, orange embers from his cigarette pulsing in the night. She grabbed Danny’s arm and ran toward him.
“What are you doing?” Danny said.
“Tara,” Andy said as they neared. “How ya.” He stubbed out his cigarette.
“Grand,” she said. “Listen. I wanted to ask Eddie Oh a question—you know I’m trying to figure out everyone’s gifts and he’s a bit of a mystery—and then he just took off . . .”
Andy followed her gaze to the taxi that was winding out of the grounds.
“Not a bother,” he said, holding open the door to the SUV. Tara slid in but Danny hesitated.
“Who is this guy?”
“Sorry,” Tara said. “This is Veronica’s driver. Andy, I’d like you to meet Danny O’Donnell.”
The two men sized each other up. Andy tipped his cap. Tara got in the back as Danny stood outside. “Are you coming?”
“Isn’t it going to be obvious we’re following them?” Danny asked.
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