“I hear there were ambulances at the hotel again last night,” Sophie whispered as if afraid of being overheard.
“Yes. My business partner was taken to the hospital,” I said, watching Sophie’s face for any flicker of confusion.
“Mr. MacEwen?” She frowned. “Is he okay?”
“For the moment,” I replied. I tried not to think of the alternative. “It was so strange,” I said, continuing to watch Sophie intently. “He was minding his own business, just brushing his teeth, and the next thing we knew it seems he fell and cracked his head open.”
Sophie’s eyes grew wide, and she looked as if she’d been thrown completely off balance herself. “I have to get up to the hotel.” She reached for her coat and threw it on. “Mrs. Easton will be in a right state over this. I have to…well, I just have to be there.”
Sophie opened the door and hastened through the kennels, Joey following behind. She certainly seemed shaken by the news, and I would say more than a bit surprised to see me looking hale and hearty this early in the morning. The evidence against Sophie was mounting at an alarming rate. The question now was whether Joey was involved as well.
Joey followed Sophie to the outside door and watched her go before returning to start allocating portions of dry and wet cereal among ten matching stainless-steel bowls. His body language indicated a high degree of tension. I wondered if he was trying to decide how to respond to my presence.
“The crew has to be fed,” he said, finally. “Can’t let their lives be thrown into a turmoil even when ours are.”
“Sophie seems very upset.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Joey said angrily. “Two deaths in rooms she’s responsible for and now someone injured.”
“No one’s accused her of anything, have they?”
“Not yet, but they keep questioning her. It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it? They always blame the staff.”
“If the police have no proof, then she won’t have to worry,” I pointed out. Although from where I stood, Sophie should be worried. I opened the gate and went in to scratch Odin’s tummy, anxious to turn the conversation back to Joey. “Do you have to stay here with the dogs at night?” I asked.
“Only if there’s a problem. Most nights I stay at my gran’s in the village.”
“Then you weren’t here any of the past three nights?”
Joey looked down at me and scowled. “No. Why?”
I shrugged. “Just wondered if you might have seen or heard something with all the goings-on up at the hotel.”
“I wasn’t here, so no, I didn’t.” Joey was getting testy. I knew I was taking a risk, but time was ticking away. I needed to be direct.
I pulled the dog whistle and chain from my pocket. “Recognize this?”
“Where did you find it?”
“Up at the hotel,” I said vaguely.
“It’s Sophie’s. I gave it to her for her birthday.” Joey looked embarrassed. “It was my way of telling her I’d always come when she called.”
That was actually rather sweet, and it explained why it was found in my room. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved. “Right. I’ll give it back when she stops by,” I said. “Meanwhile, what can you tell me about a man named Bruce Keenan?”
Joey frowned. “Never heard of him.”
“You were talking to him in the lobby yesterday.”
Joey looked blank.
“He seemed to be quite eager to make a point.”
“Him? He was just some daft bugger wanting to talk about gundog training. Trying to tell me I wasn’t handling the dogs right.”
“You hadn’t met him before?”
“No.” Joey was firm but clearly uneasy. “I need to get back to work,” he said.
He called the dogs for breakfast, and I walked back to the hotel with Liam, contemplating this latest turn of events. Sophie and Joey. I’d caught them together. Maybe someone else had, too. The panic on their faces was clear enough. Could the killer be blackmailing both of them to help him?
My sense was still that they were good people, but even good people can get drawn into bad situations.
* * *
—
Liam and I retreated to the welcome warmth of the hotel. It was barely seven o’clock, but Cam was already in the salesroom setting up the Abbey Glen table. His face was drawn and his usual robust coloring looked washed out. I went to lend a hand.
“Any more news on Grant?” he asked.
“I spoke to Louisa just now. She’s over at the hospital. There’s no change,” I said, bending to unpack a collection of display bottles. I didn’t want Cam to see the fear in my eyes.
Cam pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t like this. Not one bit. Death has been nipping at our heels ever since—” He paused uncomfortably.
“Ever since I showed up,” I finished. “I know.”
“Ever since Ben died,” Cam amended, his face softening. “I ken it has nowt to do with you, lass, but sometimes it feels like we’ve been cursed. Tell me you’re looking into what happened.”
“Not officially.” I lowered my voice. “But unofficially, of course. I’m not letting this attack on Grant go unchallenged.”
Cam nodded. “Good on ya.”
“Will you be able to manage here alone today?” I asked.
“Aye. You focus on what you do best. I’ll stick to what I do best. Someone has to hold the fort for the Glen.”
Across the room I saw Keenan enter, holding on to a large cup of coffee like a life preserver. He definitely looked the worse for wear.
“Your friend Bruce is here early,” I remarked.
“He’d made a new friend,” Cam said with a hint of disapproval. “I believe he was keepin’ company with her last night.”
“One of the guests?”
“Aye. Here for a wedding. The bride’s aunt or sommit.”
I unpacked the photos of Abbey Glen and absentmindedly arranged them on one side of the display table. “Did you two talk about Richard and Archie’s deaths at all?” I asked. “I mean, before the wedding party showed up.”
“A bit over dinner. Not being disrespectful, mind, but everyone’s talkin’.”
“I know. I’m not criticizing.” I wondered if Cam was the one who tipped my hand. Not on purpose, of course, just from honesty and concern. “Did you mention that I was helping the police?”
Cam thought for a moment. “We were talkin’ about your pictures. Might have mentioned you were takin’ photos for the inspector. Did I do the wrong thing?”
“No, no,” I said, trying to be reassuring. Cam didn’t know the toothpaste was poisoned and he didn’t need to at the moment.
Cam looked so sad, I gave him a quick hug and promised to let him know as soon as I heard anything more about Grant. As I left the salesroom I ran into Patrick fixing a large coffee at the self-serve bar in the lobby and led him over to a quiet spot by the fireplace.
“Looks like Cam may have inadvertently tipped Keenan off that I was helping the police.”
“So you were right. Keenan could’ve been trying to get at you.”
“Keenan or his accomplice.”
Patrick nodded. “I got some preliminary info from my contact at the Met. You’re lucky he was willing to do a rush job. He’s sending what he’s got. By the way, am I still watching Hugh?”
“I think it’s wise. As far as we know, no one entered his room uninvited last night, but he has to be the target.” I gave Patrick the Reader’s Digest version of the fire alarm fiasco from the night before.
“It’s all go here, isn’t it?” Patrick said with a chuckle. “That’s the first laugh I’ve had in days. But it doesn’t make it any easier to keep track of folks if they keep popping in and out of each other’s rooms in the middle of the night.”
<
br /> I thought of Brenna popping into Grant’s room last night. Would she have still been there in the morning if Grant hadn’t been hurt? I pushed the thought aside.
Patrick went to the business center to answer some work emails before reporting for judging duty. I went in search of Oliver Blaire, poking through the various conference rooms being used by the competition before checking at the front desk and being pointed to the main dining room.
Liam and I found Oliver grabbing a quick bite of breakfast before the judging began. Liam was thrilled at the prospect of a proper breakfast.
Oliver looked up and smiled. “Please join me, you two. I have to get something solid in my stomach or I can’t make it through a whole day of tasting. My stamina’s not what it once was.”
I asked for a bowl of cornflakes, a plate of sausages for Liam, and a large cappuccino. I wasn’t really hungry, but I needed to eat something to combat a full night with no sleep.
“How is Grant this morning?” Oliver asked
I repeated the litany of “stable, but still at risk.”
“Your Inspector Michaelson came around bright and early this morning,” Oliver said with a smile. “He told me to be wary but happily didn’t insist on confining me to my room.”
I noticed Oliver was eating prepackaged cereal and yogurt—probably unnecessary, but a wise precaution all the same. “In the cold light of day I think this looks a bit less like revenge,” I admitted, “but as the inspector said, ‘Keep your eyes open.’ ”
“I have faith you are pursuing this with vigor.”
“Unofficially,” I replied.
“Officially or unofficially, my money’s on you to sort this out. Is there anything I can do to help?”
I hated to drag Oliver any further into this, but I needed all the information I could get. “What can you tell me about Bruce Keenan?”
Oliver looked surprised. “He handles the distribution for the global sales of our Marchbanks whisky. Sound chap.”
“Has a bit of a temper, though?”
“Don’t we all at times,” Oliver said with his usual tact.
“Ever heard Keenan complaining about the sale of Edenburn?” I asked.
“Constantly. He felt aggrieved by the change of circumstance, naturally enough, I suppose, but it was a common situation at that time. Many distilleries had trouble making ends meet. Quite a number were shuttered and others sold. It was the way of the business at the time, and of course new buyers wanted their own staff.”
“So you’d say his claim against Archie wasn’t warranted?”
“Legally? No, but I can understand his feeling betrayed and looking for a civil settlement of some sort.”
“The court didn’t agree.”
“They couldn’t set the precedent. If they paid out on this one, they’d have been paying out all over the place.”
The waitress arrived with our food. I cut Liam’s sausages into bite-sized pieces and spooned the foam off the top of my cappuccino into a dish. I set both down in front of him and he tucked in with vigor. It was his favorite meal.
“Cam tells me Bruce struggled to find a job.”
“He’d been rather…intemperate in some of his actions.”
“But you were willing to hire him?”
“He was a veteran, and I believed he deserved the opportunity. We were aware of the issues and made it clear that any further incidents wouldn’t be tolerated. Haven’t had a single issue to date.”
I hated to admit it, but I was a bit disappointed. I’d hoped to hear that Keenan was still having trouble controlling his temper. Anything to suggest that he might have turned to acts of extreme violence. “Do you think Bruce still holds a grudge against MacInnes and Central?”
“Do you mean enough to kill his ex-boss?” To his credit, Oliver gave the matter some thought before answering. “I couldn’t rule out his doing something rash, but when it comes to stone-cold-sober planning a murder, no, I don’t see him doing that.”
I thought back to my meeting with Keenan the night before, allowing my mind to float free as I stirred my coffee. Fiery, flamboyant, and intractable had been my initial impressions. A difficult man with strong feelings. A man with a specific motive for revenge. I told Michaelson last night that I appreciated that Trevor technically could’ve murdered his brother, but my gut instinct said he wouldn’t. Keenan also could’ve committed murder, but the question was: Would he? In his case, my gut instinct said he might.
Chapter 18
Getting out the door before six a.m. really elongates your day. It was only ten to eight when I left Oliver to his judging duties and approached the front desk to ask for the manager. Larson had seen me with Michaelson. Hopefully he presumed we were investigating together and I could prevail upon him for some information.
Larson emerged from his office, and I could see an almost imperceptible stiffening of the spine.
“Ms. Logan, lovely to see you. How may I assist?”
“I understand you keep key entry logs for all the rooms with key codes.”
“That is correct.”
“I’d like to see the records from my room for the past twenty-four hours.”
“That isn’t something we normally share with our guests.”
“I can ask Inspector Michaelson to arrange for a warrant,” I said, gesturing toward his makeshift interrogation room on the far side of the lobby.
Larson shuddered visibly. “I suppose, as it is your own room,” he conceded grudgingly.
He went back to the office and returned shortly with a sheet of computer paper folded into quarters and handed it over like it was contraband. I thanked him and slipped it into my pocket.
As I made my way toward the lifts, I saw Trevor slip in through the front door, a black cap pulled low over his eyes.
I turned and moved quickly toward him, but Trevor raised a hand to his face as if to ward me off. “Tell your buddy Michaelson I don’t need a nursemaid following me around.”
“I’m not following you.”
“I’ll have him for harassment. I’ve told him I have nothing to do with all this. I just want to get the hell out of here.” Trevor pushed past me, heading for the open lift. I ignored his bluster and followed him inside. He pressed the button for the fifth floor. As we began to rise, I pressed the stop button and placed myself between Trevor and the control panel. Liam stood protectively by my side, but I noted that he seemed at ease with Trevor.
“Look, I know you’ve seen me with the police, but I don’t work for them and, more to the point, I don’t think Michaelson’s right. I don’t believe you had anything to do with Richard and Archie’s deaths.”
Trevor’s shoulders sagged.
“If nothing else, you weren’t here last night,” I continued.
“What happened last night?” he mumbled.
“Someone tried to poison me.”
Trevor looked up sharply. “Why?”
“Maybe because they thought I know more than I do. I don’t know. The main thing is my partner’s in a coma right now all because of me and I’m determined to find out why.”
Trevor didn’t look convinced. “I’m sorry to hear it, but that sounds like your problem, not mine.”
“My problem, yes, but potentially your benefit,” I wheedled. “If I can find the real killer, then you’re off the hook.”
Trevor considered the matter for a moment. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you know a guy named Bruce Keenan?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Remember anything from his years with Edenburn distillery?”
“Not much, ’cept that bird from the Inland Revenue.”
“What?” Now I was completely lost. “Keenan had tax issues?”
“Nah. He had issues with the good-looking lass from the insp
ector’s office. Inland Revenue sends officers ’round to check the bond warehouses periodically. Keenan tried to give her a private tour of his facilities, if you get my drift. He was always a randy bugger. Fancied himself a player, but this bird was having none of it. She threatened to sue.”
“What happened?”
“I seem to recall Richard advised Archie to address the problem with cash. They got lucky. She accepted the money and walked away.”
“Then Keenan turned around and sued Archie after he sold Central.”
“That he did, but Archie reminded him he’d had his money out of the company when they settled the harassment charges. Richard and Archie threatened to make the incident public and Keenan backed down. Didn’t need that kind of attention when he was looking for a new job.”
So that’s why Keenan dropped the suit, and no doubt what Oliver would consider intemperate behavior. The lift was beeping annoyingly and I released the stop button. We began our ascent again. “Did Bruce Keenan come to your room at all while you were here?”
“No. Why would he? We hardly know one another.”
“Someone left that nicotine vial in your room,” I pointed out.
I could see the wheels turning slowly in Trevor’s mind. “You think Keenan was trying to get back at Richard and Archie and decided to frame me?”
“It’s possible.”
Trevor appeared to think about that for a moment. We reached his door, just down the hall from Cam’s, I noted. Keenan had stayed on this floor that first night. He could easily have seen Trevor enter or leave his room the next morning.
“Bruce didn’t come to my room while I was there, but frankly, anyone could’ve wandered in. That maid of mine kept leaving the door propped open.”
“Ethel?”
“Is that her name? Thick as a brick. Left the door wide open while she ran around fetching towels and such. She’s no whiz at cleaning, either. Can’t see her getting down and cleaning under a bed. That vial must’ve been left where you could find it plain as day.”
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