“I have reason to believe he’s trying to poison Liam.”
“Why would he do that?
“Maybe because he failed at poisoning me? I don’t know, but you need to get in there. Don’t ask too many questions. You’ll hate the answers, but trust me, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
Chapter 20
Back at the hotel I headed for the lobby bar to order a pot of tea and some scones. Exhaustion and stress required a regular infusion of caffeine and high-quality carbohydrates to keep the brain functioning. I picked up my phone and called Louisa. She was having coffee in the hospital canteen. There was no new news about Grant, but she patiently promised to call when there was anything to report. I hung up feeling so powerless, just waiting.
There was nothing I could do for Grant. Nothing except find out why this had happened and who was responsible. The answer was close at hand, I could feel it. All I needed now was a quiet place to sit and allow the loose strands of Bruce Keenan’s story to weave themselves together in my head.
Bruce had been fired from his job through no apparent fault of his own. As Cam said, men who’ve worked for a distillery all their lives become a part of the fabric of the place. Together Richard, Archie, and Hugh had robbed him not only of his livelihood but his identity. Worse yet, he’d had no luck fighting against his fate. Bruce must’ve held on to that pain, letting it fester over the last seven years.
Maybe he’d even fantasized about getting his revenge, and then an opportunity presented itself. Patrick told me the list of judges was released in advance as part of an article in the local paper. Bruce would have known that they would all be here. Coming on the heels of the story of the young man who’d killed his father with nicotine poisoning, it might have seemed like a perfect confluence of events.
Had he reached out to Joey knowing he worked at the Lodge? Was Joey, the groom-to-be, willing to help out in return for cash? It wasn’t clear yet how they’d come together, but somehow they had.
Bruce seemed like a bit of a buffoon, but maybe it was all for show. He made sure everyone saw him drunk in the bar that first night, but was he? He seemed inebriated, but he could’ve been acting. Had he already slipped into Richard’s room, poisoned the whisky, and removed all but the one tainted glass? Were his antics in the bar just a way to draw attention to himself and give himself an alibi?
The night Archie died, Ethel said he was with her. Again an alibi, but only till eleven thirty. He could have been back at the hotel and in Archie’s room by midnight. Was he the one who opened the door to exit into the hall and then retreated out the window? Or was that Joey?
As he pursued Ethel, he had a chance to watch her routine. He could easily have slipped in and stashed the vaping liquid under Trevor’s bed. He had too strong an alibi for the night of Grant’s accident, but Joey could have doctored my toothpaste and returned the key to the office, sliding it back in the wrong slot.
Technically it all worked. That was what Michaelson was looking for. I tried to listen to my own instinct for confirmation, but I was overwhelmed by the details and the possibilities. Keenan made sense. There was a viable argument for every aspect of the crime. That should be enough. But my instinct said what? I tried to tune in, but for some reason I couldn’t.
As if conjured by my chaotic thoughts, Bruce Keenan entered the bar and walked toward me. He looked frazzled and hungover.
He flopped into the chair across from me without asking. “How’s MacEwen?” he demanded.
“Stable,” I replied.
“I hear he fell.”
“He was poisoned.” I watched Keenan’s face for a response.
His eyes narrowed and his fingers beat a tattoo on the arm of the chair. “I thought they’d already arrested Trevor Simpson?”
“Arrested and released,” I said. “I think the police are looking at multiple suspects.”
Keenan looked slightly uneasy. This was my chance to try to get a read on him.
“They’ve been questioning all the staff,” I said. “I hear the latest is the gundog trainer.” I let that sink in for a moment. “You know, Joey, with the Labs.”
“I cannae afford all that tourist tripe,” Keenan snapped.
“Really? I figured you knew him. I saw you two talking the other day,” I said innocently.
The drumming was getting more intense. “What of it?” he said.
I smeared a large dollop of jam on my scone before looking back at Keenan. “Makes you wonder what the police think he might have to say.”
“Well, it’ll be nothing about me, if that’s what you’re trying to get at,” Keenan insisted.
“Fair enough, but they must think he knows something. It’s the second time they’ve questioned him, and they’ve been asking everyone to account for their movements in great detail over the past few days.”
Keenan shrugged. “I’m not even staying here.”
“But you’ve been here a lot,” I pointed out. “I’m sure that counts.”
Keenan continued to fidget in his chair. I could tell he was growing more uncomfortable with this conversation by the minute. He looked ready to bolt. “Well, when you see MacEwen, tell him everyone at Marchbanks wishes him well.” His message delivered, he excused himself abruptly.
“What was that all about?” I murmured to Liam.
Keenan was definitely rattled, and I was curious to see what he would do next. I gave the last bite of scone to Liam, allowing Keenan a brief head start before crossing the lobby and watching him disappear down a corridor alongside the spa. I hustled in as ladylike a manner as possible to the corner, Liam at my heels, and peered around in time to see our quarry head out a door at the end of the hall. The door was labeled STAFF ONLY, but Keenan hadn’t hesitated. He knew where he was going.
I pushed the door open far enough to see that it led into an outdoor service alley, but pulled back when I realized that Keenan was leaning on the wall nearby talking to someone on the inside of an adjacent low-brick building. The floor of the alleyway was strewn with cigarette butts. No doubt the smoker’s retreat, but the smell of smoke was being overlaid by the smell of soap powder. Thinking back to Ethel’s story of the first night she met “Jacob,” I decided this must be the access to the hotel’s laundry room.
I’d lay odds he was talking to Ethel, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. I was itching to know what he was up to, but there was no way to get closer without giving away my presence. I looked around desperately and saw another door in the interior hallway to my right that led into the spa area. I cracked it open and found myself on the deck of the indoor pool. Liam followed me inside and I pointed to a spot by the pool floats, saying “stay” with as much authority as I could muster. I moved toward what should be the back wall of the building, passing through the ladies’ changing room while doing my best to maintain my bearings.
Several ladies sat chatting by the lockers in plush white robes and slippers. They gave me an odd look as I walked past in street clothes. I headed toward the shower stalls and grabbed a robe from the folded pile, throwing it on over my clothes. At least I blended in now. The shower stalls ran along the back wall and, if my sense of direction was correct, Keenan should be just outside. I moved quickly down the line and selected a stall that had a window placed high in the tile. I pulled the shower curtain across and climbed up onto the teak bench before popping the window open. I stood on tiptoe, craning to hear the conversation taking place in the alley on the other side of the wall.
It was difficult to hear, but I could just make out Keenan’s voice.
“Look, all I’m askin’ is that you agree we were together till at least one in the morning.”
I couldn’t hear the response for the sound of water from the stall across the way.
“Doesn’t matter why,” Keenan continued. “Here’s fifty quid. Just keep to the story. We weren’t he
re and you were with me till late.”
The shower suddenly shut off and I could just hear Ethel’s voice.
“Well, now, it’s funny ’cause you’re the second person today who’s wantin’ to talk to me about Wednesday night.”
“Who else was asking?” Keenan demanded. “The police?”
I cringed, thinking Ethel was about to drop me in it.
“None of your business, Jacob,” she said mockingly.
That’s my girl, I thought.
“What’d you tell them?”
“Nothin’ to tell. Just a cheap night out with a cheap guy. But someone’s after you, and it seems to me like you really need me to hold up your side of the story. If you want it that bad, I figure it might be worth a bit more than fifty quid.”
“Fine, here’s another thirty, but it’s all I’ve got.”
The rest of the conversation was drowned out as the showers on either side of me turned on. Keenan had gone straight to Ethel for an alibi. He must be worried.
I climbed down and ditched the robe in the dressing room before making my way out to the pool deck again. I looked for Liam, but he was no longer where I’d left him. Somehow I sensed this was not a good development. I stepped farther onto the deck to get a better look at the lush spa pool. Tiled in turquoise and silver with huge terry-cloth padded loungers all around the edge. Luckily it was being only lightly used today. Two gentlemen were asleep on their chairs with towels draped over their eyes. One couple was enjoying the hot tub, but fortunately no one was in the pool at that moment. No one but Liam, that is. He was happily paddling in circles around the shallow end. I didn’t even know he could swim. I grabbed a towel from the rack by the door and hurried to the side of the pool, hoping to extricate him before his intrusion was noticed, but no such luck.
An attendant in swim shorts and a sweatshirt with the Eagle’s Lodge logo on the front approached me with a frown.
“I beg your pardon, madame, but the swim facilities are for our human guests only.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll remove him at once.”
I stood on the side calling to my dog, who apparently lives to mortify me in public places. The more luxurious, the better. He emerged from the water in his own good time and shook violently, sending a shower of water all over the attendant. I rubbed Liam down hastily with the towel, grabbed his collar, and began dragging him toward the door. I tried to return the towel to the pool attendant.
“Keep it,” he said through clenched teeth.
I’d wondered how much it would take to rattle the formidable equilibrium of the Lodge’s well-trained staff. I think we had an answer.
* * *
—
Reemerging into the hallway from the steamy heat of the pool deck, I felt chilled. Liam simply looked refreshed. He had no shame. I looked around for Keenan but couldn’t see him. I wandered back down to the salesroom and found him packing up boxes from Oliver’s shop and looking like he was anxious to get away.
Hearing that Joey was being questioned had rattled Keenan, and his conversation with Ethel indicated that he was anxious to distance himself from the resort on the night Archie died. I called the station and was told Michaelson was at the Lodge. Hopefully conducting a search of the kennels.
Patrick emerged from the judging salon and started to head toward me before veering off as Hugh Ashworth-Jones turned for the bar. I followed them in and grabbed a table near the door where I could keep an eye on the entrance to the salesroom. If Patrick was watching Hugh and I kept an eye on Keenan, all should be well for now. With Hugh settled at the bar, Patrick came to join me looking harried and exhausted.
“You’re going to have to find someone else to trail Hugh,” he groaned. “He’s starting to think I’ve developed an unhealthy obsession with him.”
“How’s the judging going?”
“We’ve just finished the last round, and they’re tallying the votes now. What’s happening out here in the real world?”
“I’m waiting for Michaelson. I think we’ve found our man, but you need to keep tabs on Hugh while I watch Keenan. I think he may try to clear out of here in a hurry.”
“Alright, alright.” Patrick sighed heavily and moved back to Hugh’s side.
I ordered a drink and continued to loiter at my strategic table. I was restless and anxious, but I had to keep pushing thoughts of Grant from my mind. I kept repeating, Find the killer first, find the killer first.
I didn’t have long to wait before Michaelson came swinging through the front door. He caught my eye and gestured for me to follow him into the library, shutting the door behind us. “Thanks for the tip. I won’t ask how you knew what we’d find at the kennels, but it paid off. We’ve taken Joey into custody.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Denied any connection with Keenan or the victims, but he didn’t put up any resistance when we asked to search the place. Insisted that the nicotine was something they used to worm the dogs. An old farmer’s remedy.”
“I just overheard Keenan trying to pin down an alibi for himself for the night Archie died. He’s nervous.”
“Right, it’s time to bring him in, too. Any idea where I’ll find him?”
“He’s in the salesroom packing up. I was trying to keep an eye on him.”
“It’s my turn now,” Michaelson said without rancor. “You get some rest.”
I followed him back out of the library and watched him head into the salesroom. In a matter of minutes he and Keenan walked across to the library and closed the door. Everyone was aware of Michaelson’s presence now. Going into the library was the equivalent of being called into the headmaster’s study. I collapsed in a chair in front of the fireplace in the lobby and Liam sprawled on the hearthrug next to me. He needed to dry off and I needed to rest. I was so tired, but I just couldn’t sit still. I stood again and began pacing around in circles.
After half an hour, I saw two uniformed officers enter the lobby and stand waiting, watching the closed door of the library. I knew I should move away, but I was too invested in the outcome, so I stayed, transfixed by the drama unfolding in front of me.
Finally the door opened and Michaelson emerged, ushering Keenan out in front of him.
“I want to see a lawyer,” Keenan demanded loudly.
“You can make a call from the station,” Michaelson said. He steered Keenan through the lobby, and as they approached, Keenan caught sight of me and stepped closer. Liam began to growl softly in the back of his throat.
“You’re behind this,” he snarled. “I don’t know how you did it, but somehow you set me up.”
“You set yourself up,” I replied. “And you damn near killed my partner trying to drive me away.”
“I never got near your bloody partner.”
I should have been quicker, I saw the hand go back, but I just didn’t duck in time. The slap caught me hard across the left cheek. I could taste blood where my lip made contact with my teeth. Liam leapt toward Keenan, his teeth bared. A solid reminder of why I loved him even when he misbehaved. I grabbed for his collar and pulled him back.
Michaelson dragged Keenan away and pushed him into the hands of the waiting officers. “Get him out of here,” he snarled.
Chapter 21
I watched Keenan being escorted out with hotel security trailing along behind trying to minimize the disturbance in the lobby. Liam’s hackles went down and he sat next to me, leaning on my leg. I gave his head a scratch and whispered, “Good boy.”
Michaelson turned to me and handed me a handkerchief, gesturing to the left side of his mouth.
I dabbed away the blood and grimaced slightly.
“Come on,” he said, steering me toward the bar. You’ve earned a drink.”
He ordered us each a fifteen-year-old Abbey Glen.
Michae
lson drank appreciatively before bending to give Liam’s ears a scratch. “He looks after you, doesn’t he? Pity you don’t do a better job of staying out of trouble.”
I refused to take the bait but sipped more slowly than usual as the alcohol stung the cut in my cheek. At least it would kill any germs. “I take it Keenan wasn’t ready to confess?”
“Not yet. He denied knowing Joey or anything about the brass keys, and he denied having poisoned either victim. No doubt his lawyer will tell him to keep mum until he can start to work out a defense. I suspect we’ll hear from Joey first, but we’ll see.”
I grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl in front of me. “I’d feel happier if he’d confessed,” I admitted.
“You were convinced it was Keenan,” Michaelson said. “Are you changing your mind now?”
“No, no, I just wish my gut agreed with the facts. Keenan was in all of the wrong places at all of the right times and he’s certainly got a hell of a temper, but none of this fits with my assessment of Joey. I know you don’t think much of my instincts, but I feel like I’m losing my touch.”
“You have a solid instinct and a good eye for detail, but you can’t always fathom what people are capable of just from your gut feelings.”
“But for years I did,” I insisted. “I bet my life on those instincts time after time.”
“You were lucky, then.”
“Maybe.” I hated to think that I’d been working on pure luck up till now.
“Evidence and instinct—it takes both,” Michaelson said.
“Instinct and evidence,” I countered with a smile. “Maybe that’s why we make a good team.”
Michaelson didn’t disagree but sat fidgeting with his napkin. He seemed on the verge of saying something he was struggling with. A compliment perhaps on my investigative skill?
I waited patiently, and finally he said, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“You were a girl once.”
“Still am,” I pointed out.
Deadly Dram Page 25
