by Laura Durham
Kate gave me a blank look.
I sighed. "She was Colleen's roommate. If Colleen's bags are still in the room, they may give us a clue as to why she was murdered."
Kate darted a glance down the hall. "What if she comes back to her room?"
"They have a group archery lesson right now. She'll be occupied for at least an hour." I inserted the key and the door opened. "If we don't find anything, we'll leave. No harm done."
My assistant didn't look so convinced. "Our hunts for clues haven't always gone so well in the past. I really don't want to get caught breaking and entering."
I looked up and down the hall again. Daylight streamed in the tall arched windows on one side, but the lamps glowed on the dark wood tables and illuminated the maroon walls. "No one will catch us. Don't you want to clear your name so we can get out of here? Hanging around until the Gardaí solve a murder is not on our itinerary."
"I know you don't like to get off schedule, but don't you think this is a bit extreme?"
"We'll be in and out in two minutes," I said, pushing open the door. "Promise."
Kate mumbled her weak protests as she followed me into the room. I didn't take me long to realize the layout was a suite with a sitting area that led into the bedroom through an open arch. The carpet was the same soft gray plaid as in my room, and the love seat and chairs were also gray velvet topped with burgundy throw pillows. A pair of beds took up most of the bedroom and held more burgundy pillows with a crystal chandelier hanging above. The room smelled like Betty Belle's perfume, a thick floral scent that made my nose twitch.
"How do we know which bags are Colleens?" Kate asked.
A hunter green wheeled suitcase lay open on a luggage stand near the bed and a quilted floral tote bag sagged on the floor next to it. I scanned the room until I spotted a black wheeled suitcase tucked between the two high windows in the sitting area. A green nylon carry-on bag perched on top. "These haven't been opened. They must be Colleen's."
Kate pulled the smaller bag off. "What are we looking for?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Something unusual? Something valuable? Something worth killing over?"
Kate gave me a look. "That's specific."
"I never said it wasn't a long shot."
Kate unzipped the bag and began rifling through it while I flipped the suitcase onto the floor. A green name tag in the shape of a shamrock hung from the bag's handle and confirmed that it belonged to the victim.
"Nothing in here," Kate said. "Tour guides, sunglasses, two tea towels and one of those scarf brooches like Fern got--probably from the gift shop in Bunratty, her phone, wallet, and a passport case."
Before I could ask to see her phone, there was a sound at the door and we both froze. Kate dropped the carry-on bag next to the suitcase.
"She's back." Kate looked wildly around the room, but we were too far away to make it to an of the closets.
I motioned the window seats. "Up there," I whispered. "Behind the curtains."
She gave me a look that told me she though I was crazy, but jumped up and tugged the heavy drapes in front of her. I stood on the other side of the window with the long curtains shielding me from view, even though I could clearly see Kate's terrified expression across from me.
I put a finger to my lips as the door clicked open and we heard someone entering the room. I didn't want to risk peeking out since the view from door was straight at the windows, but the footfall sounded heavier than I would have expected from Betty Belle. My heart pounded, and I was sure the sound could be heard across the room. I squeezed my shaking hands tight and reminded myself not to lock my knees. We'd had more than one bridesmaid faint during a ceremony when they'd locked their knees and forgotten to breathe.
The thudding feet approached us, and I held my breath, even though I knew I shouldn't. Kate's eyes were squeezed shut, and she seemed to be mouthing something to herself. I hoped she wouldn't keel over onto the person. They were so close I could hear their rapid breathing. Either they'd run up the stairs from the lobby or they were nervous to be in the room. Who was it if it wasn't Betty Belle? I fought the urge to look as I felt the curtain rustle as they brushed up against it. Chances were good if I looked out I'd be looking right at them. There was no good explanation for met to be huddled behind curtains on a windowsill. I didn't move.
I couldn't hold my breath any longer and tried to breathe out as quietly as possible, expecting the person to hear me at any moment. Instead of throwing back the drapes, they fumbled with the bags right below us and then I heard the sound of the wheeled suitcase rolling across the carpet. Again, I wanted to look out, but common sense told me the risk of being seen was still too great. After another moment, the footsteps were gone and the door closed with a click.
I looked across the window seat. Kate's eyes were open and wide. I pulled the edge of the curtain back slightly. The room was empty, so I let my breath out in a long steady whoosh. "They're gone."
Kate peeked her head out from behind the brocade. "So are the bags."
My eyes went to the floor where we'd left the suitcase and carry-on bag. "The hotel staff must have retrieved them. I'm sure they're going back with the body."
"Or maybe the police want them," Kate said, not making a move to come down from the window. "You don't think that was Garda Ryan, do you?"
"I doubt it. I think he would have noticed something funny about the curtains. Whoever got the bags was in and out pretty fast." My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pants pocket. "It's Richard."
"I guess he noticed we were gone."
I answered and tried to make my voice sound nonchalant. "Hey Richard. What's up?"
"I was about to ask you the same question."
"What do you mean? Kate and I decided to run up to our rooms to freshen up before our site tour."
"Your rooms?" Richard asked, doubt dripping from his voice. "You sure about that?"
"Pretty sure." I laughed but it sounded forced even to my own ears. Normally I would have assumed Fern had ratted us out, but he hadn't known where we were going.
"Turn around."
I pivoted in the window and gazed down at the stretch of lawn that extended along the lake. Richard stood below me, phone to his ear as he stared up at Kate and me standing in Betty Belle's window. "Oh."
Kate followed my line of sight and gave a small yelp. "I guess we should have figured standing in a giant window wasn't the most incognito option."
"I can explain," I began, but I stopped when I saw Fern join Richard and begin waving wildly up at us.
Kate waved back. "And so much for keeping this on the down low."
"Let's go," I told Kate. "Before Fern starts selling tickets." I disconnected and jammed my phone back in my pocket. Kate and I needed to get out before anyone else spotted us, and I needed time to come up with a convincing explanation.
We jumped out of the window and hurriedly tied back the drapes. I wiped our footprints off the white surface of the window seats and scanned the room for any more clues we'd been there. Kate waved for me to follow her.
"Do you think anyone else saw us?" Kate asked after she'd crossed the room and stood listening at the door.
"I hope not." I placed the key card on the coffee table and joined her. "But we need to get out of here."
"Before Betty Belle finds us?"
I shook my head. "Before Richard does."
Chapter 15
"You have to talk to me sometime," I said to Richard after the catering director had finished our tour of the castle and grounds and left us beneath the stone gazebo some distance away from the main building.
Richard turned away from me with a flip of his head. "Debatable."
Buster and Mack had insisted they wanted to take measurements in case our bride chose the gazebo for her ceremony and they needed to wrap floral garland around the soaring pillars. We'd all opted to remain outside with them while the catering director returned inside after warning us of impending rain. All e
xcept Fern, who'd practically danced inside at the thought of getting to wear his specially purchased rain gear.
I watched Richard stalk over to the gazebo and step up into the center. Knowing Richard the way I did, it was obvious he needed more time to cool off before he listened to the convincing argument I'd crafted in my head. Luckily, our tour had started before he could scold me for crouching in the windowsill of someone else's room. Once I could explain whose window Kate and I had been in and why, I felt sure he'd understand. At least I hoped he would.
"I've got it," Kate called down to Buster as she sat on his shoulders and held the extendable tape measure over her head.
"You think Halsey will prefer the gazebo to the walled garden?" I asked as Mack helped Kate down from Buster's shoulders. I felt grateful that for once Kate wore pants and not a skirt.
"It has a more dramatic approach," Buster said, straightening his leather jacket once Kate was on the ground.
The long path leading to the domed open-air Temple of Mercury would make for a dramatic aisle, but the area surrounding it was more of a forest than gardens. Tall trees shaded the path and the stone was weathered with discolored patches and moss growing in places.
"The garden has more color," I said.
"You mean the garden where you found a dead body?" Mack shivered even though the mid-day sun peeked between the gray clouds and through the thick tree branches.
"Clearly we aren't going to mention the dead body," I said, looking from person to person. "Right?"
"Right," they all parroted back to me, although with less enthusiasm than I might have liked.
Buster looked over his shoulder at the long grassy approach from the side of the castle. "You can't beat the natural aisle."
"What about the other direction?" I asked, motioning to the more rustic path broken up by a set of crumbling stone steps.
Buster shook his head. "Too steep. We don't want guests rolling off their chairs.
Mack peered down at the tape measure and jotted some numbers into his notebook. "Just imagine if we draped fabric all the way down the lawn to the gazebo."
Kate brushed off the front of her snug-fitting black pants. "I'm not sure if Halsey is a fabric type of girl. What about ribbon streamers? They would flutter in the wind."
Mack beamed at her. "Brilliant." He dropped his head back to look at the figure perched on the top of the gazebo's dome. "You don't think we could get a floral garland on him, do you?"
Kate crossed her arms. "Well, I'm not crawling up there to put it on him."
As Mack and Buster debated the options for the Roman God, I wandered over to Richard.
"What do you think?" I asked. "Walled gardens or stone gazebo?"
"It's not like you'll listen to my advice," he said with a sniff as he turned to face away from me.
"Come on, Richard. You haven't even heard my explanation."
He spun around. "You have a reasonable explanation for why you and Kate were cowering in the windowsill of someone else's room?"
I put one hand on my hip. "First of all, we weren't cowering."
"Kate was hunched over with her eyes closed and her fingers crossed. What would you call that?"
I ignored his surprisingly accurate description of Kate. "How do you know that wasn't one of our rooms?"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Our rooms are further down the hall, and I would hope you wouldn't have a reason to be hiding behind your own drapes. Luckily for you, I don't think Fern put two and two together."
"If you must know, we popped into Betty Belle's room. She left her key behind at breakfast, and I thought we might be able to find some clue in Colleen's luggage as to why she was murdered."
"I would ask you why you don't leave the police work to the police, but I know what an absurd question that is considering who I'm talking to." A pink flush crept up his neck. "What kind of clue did you expect to find in a dead woman's luggage?"
I felt my own face warm. "I wasn't sure, but I thought I should try before the Gardaí confiscated it or sent it back to the U.S. with her body."
"And how did that work out for you?" Richard tapped his foot on the stone.
"Not great," I said. "We barely started looking through everything when someone else came in. That's why we jumped up onto the window seats."
Richard shook his head at me. "So you didn't even find anything? I don't suppose you thought about how you and Kate were going to explain yourselves if you got caught."
"We weren't supposed to get caught. Betty Belle and her entire tour group were at an archery lesson. Who else was going to walk into her room?"
"Maybe the hotel staff? Or the Gardaí?"
I gave him a look. "Well, I know that now. One of them must have come in for Colleen's luggage. It really wasn't our plan that was bad. It was just rotten timing."
Richard's eyes popped open. "Bad timing? You break into someone's hotel room to tamper with potential evidence and your only regret is bad timing? I have half a mind to call your boyfriend and tell him what you're up to."
I felt my stomach sink as I clutched his arm. "You can't. Reese would kill me."
"Maybe you'd listen to him," Richard said. "You certainly won't listen to me."
"You know that's not true," I said in my most placating tone of voice. "I listen to you all the time. Why do you think Wedding Belles has become so successful? It's because I took all your advice."
Richard frowned at me, but I could see a small smile threatening the corners of his mouth. "Nice try, darling. Of course it's true, but don't think you can sweet talk your way out of this. And you don't take all my advice, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing boot cut jeans."
"I told her not to bring those," Kate said, joining us as Buster and Mack took a few more photos of the gazebo from further down on the lawn.
I tried not to roll my eyes at both of them. "Oh good, Brutus is chiming in."
Richard leveled a finger at her. "I'm still mad at you, by the way."
"You try to talk Annabelle out of something once she's set her mind to it. You know how she gets when there's a crime to solve or a problem to fix," Kate said, flipping her hair off her face. "Her superhero planner gene kicks in, and she's like a dog with a gnome."
Richard and I both stared at her.
"Do you mean a dog with a bone?" I asked.
She tapped a finger on her chin. "Maybe, but my version sounds more fun."
"I thought we agreed never to mention gnomes again?" Richard lowered his voice. "I still have nightmares about that you know."
One of our first weddings together had involved a couple that loved garden gnomes and insisted on including them in the buffet decor. Richard had agreed under great duress and claimed he'd never been the same since.
I shook my head. "That was five years ago."
"Might I remind you that I had to make accessories for said gnomes out of vegetables?" Richard said.
"Those carrot walking sticks were almost as impressive as the cauliflower hats," Kate said.
"Not helping," I said to her under my breath.
Buster and Mack lumbered toward us, Mack holding his notebook over his head. I glanced up at the sky and saw that the gray clouds had darkened and massed over us. Fat raindrops began falling from the sky as the two burly men ducked under the gazebo with us.
"Should we try to make a run for it before it gets too bad?" I asked, noticing a sliver of blue sky remaining over the castle.
"We're in leather," Mack said, gesturing at the head-to-toe black leather both men were in.
"Right." Since their leather was already stretched tight across their bulky bodies, I imagined by the time we made it to the castle their outfits might cut off their blood flow. "We'll have to wait it out then. Rainstorms pass quickly in Ireland, don't they?"
Richard's phone trilled in his pocket and he pulled it out, sighing with relief when he looked at the screen. "Thank heavens you called me back."
I raised an eyebrow at Kate and she shrugged
. "Maybe the office manager at Richard Gerard Catering?"
"Were you able to measure him like I asked?" Richard said, pausing to listen before continuing. "The chest measurement is most important if the vest is going to fit him properly."
"Please tell me he's not talking about his dog," Kate whispered to me.
"His dog has a name," Richard said, giving Kate a pointed look. "I can't exactly get us custom-made tweed suits if I don't have the proper measurements."
I blinked a few times. "You're getting your dog a bespoke tweed suit?"
"I can't come home from a trip empty-handed now can I?" Richard gave me a look that told me I was the ridiculous one. "I forgot to bring him a present from Bali, and he nipped my ankles for a week."
"They already have matching pajamas, Annabelle," Kate reminded me. "Just go with it."
"We have to find a little something to bring home for Prue and Merry," Mack said, giving Buster a nudge. "Don't let me forget."
"I'm bringing home bottles of Irish whiskey for everyone," Kate said.
Mack put a hand to his chest. "We can't give whiskey to a teenager and a baby."
Buster and Mack had taken in Prue, an eighteen-year-old single mother, and her infant daughter, Merry, a few months earlier. Since then, Prue and Merry had lived above their flower shop in Georgetown while Prue finished high school, and Buster and Mack served as part-time caregivers. Despite their rough appearance, both men had taken to their role as stand-in fathers with gusto.
"What about Irish wool sweaters?" I suggested. "I'm going to get one for Reese."
"Should I get one for his brother so they'll match?" Kate asked.
"Daniel?" I said, trying not to stumble over my words. "Are you two dating?"
Keeping up with Kate's dating life was a full-time job, and I didn't even attempt it. My boyfriend's older brother was certainly handsome--dark good looks ran in the family--but he ran a private security company and had at least a decade on my assistant. Not that any of that was reason enough to dissuade her if she liked someone, but aside from some heavy flirting on her part, I hadn't even been aware they'd been seeing each other.
