by Zara Keane
“That would suck,” I said dryly. “Okay. If I can swing it, I’ll drop by. I’m working at my aunt’s café until nine. If it’s not too late, I’ll come after I lock up.”
Bernadette waved a hand. “No problem. Come whenever you have time. It’s just a casual get-together to celebrate Lisa’s birthday.”
My sandwich turned to sawdust in my mouth. The last person I wanted to hang out with after a long day at work was Lisa. She’d made her dislike of me clear. However, I couldn’t miss an opportunity to chat to hotel staff away from the hotel and observe their interactions with one another. I plastered a smile onto my face. “I’m looking forward to it.”
17
After my shift at the hotel finished, I raced to the café to take over for Noreen. When I walked in, my eyes widened. The café was packed. With the exception of the more popular club nights, I’d never seen the café this full. I weaved my way through the tables. My heart leaped when I spotted Sheila Dunphy, the president of the Whisper Island Folklore and Heritage Society, drinking tea with the Spinsters and Sister Pauline. The four women were deep in conversation, but they looked up and smiled when I walked past.
When I reached the counter, my aunt was mopping sweat from her brow with a handkerchief. “Boy, am I glad to see you. The St. Patrick’s Day tourists have started to arrive.”
“It’s nice to see the café buzzing.” I slipped behind the counter and put on my red-and-gold apron with the Movie Theater Café logo.
“Despite being rushed off my feet, I managed to bake all the muffins and scones you’ll need for the rest of the day, and a pan of leek-and-potato soup is simmering on the stove.”
“Excellent. Thanks, Noreen.”
My aunt eyed my figure critically. “Make sure you have a bowl of soup yourself. And cut a slice of my cheese bread to go with it. You look like you haven’t been eating.”
I laughed. “Just because I haven’t been consuming the large quantities you served me while I was staying with you does not mean I’m not eating. I eat plenty, trust me.”
“Well, make sure you eat something here,” she said firmly. “I don’t want you wasting away on the job.”
I regarded my less-than-firm midriff. “I’m unlikely to starve, Noreen.”
“Oh, before I forget…” She shrugged into her coat. “Philomena called. She said to tell you she has to take John to the doctor this evening, but Julie will call in with whatever it was you asked her to give you.”
I suppressed a smile at my aunt’s unsubtle rebuke at not knowing everything on Whisper Island. “I asked her to show me the plans for the hotel extension.”
“Oh, that.” My aunt’s voice dripped with disdain. “A disgrace, if you ask me. I don’t hold with fairy trees, but I object to trampling all over places of historical significance.”
“Have you heard about this supposed archaeological site under the fairy tree?”
“Oh, yes. That rumor has floated around for years.”
“Do you know what’s supposed to be there?” I asked. “Is it a valuable site?”
“Allegedly, the remains of a medieval leper hospital lie under that land.” My aunt nodded to the Spinsters’ table. “You should ask Sheila Dunphy to tell you more. She knows all about that sort of thing.”
“I thought she was the president of the Folklore and Heritage Society?”
“She is, but she led the protest against excavating the site back in the Sixties. She earned quite a few enemies in the process.” My aunt laughed at my surprised expression. “Sheila’s older than she looks. She must be in her seventies by now.” Noreen patted her pockets and eventually located her glasses.
I fished her purse out from under the counter and handed it to her. “Don’t forget your bag.”
“Thanks, love. Give me a call if you need anything.”
“Okay, but I should be fine. Enjoy your evening.”
After Noreen had left, Sister Pauline came over to the counter and paid for her tea. “I need to get moving, but the others would love another pot of Earl Grey.”
“Sure,” I said as I handed the nun her change. “By the way, weren’t you at the Whisper Island Medical Centre when Mack delivered meds last week?”
“Yes.” The elderly nun frowned. “I heard a rumor that one of the medications was stolen. Does it have anything to do with the man who was murdered?”
I glanced around the café and lowered my voice. “Yes, but please keep that information to yourself.”
Sister Pauline gave me a knowing smile. “You wouldn’t happen to be doing a little investigating, Maggie?”
“Of course not.” I grinned and winked at her. “This is a matter for the police.”
“And yet you were the one who caught Sandra Walker’s killer.”
“With a little help from you, Bran, and Sergeant Reynolds.”
The smile on the nun’s face widened. “I haven’t had that much fun in decades.”
Personally, getting shot at wasn’t among my fave activities, but whatever floated her boat. “You must come over to the cottage with Noreen. You haven’t seen it yet.”
“I’d love to.” She sounded genuinely delighted to be invited. “Let’s set a date after St. Patrick’s Day.”
“It’s a plan. Have a nice day, Sister Pauline.”
“You, too, dear.”
When the nun closed the café door behind her, Miss Flynn waved me over to their table. “Hello, Maggie, dear. Can you bring us a plate of scones with the tea?”
“Sure.” My gaze settled on Sheila. “Aren’t you the president of the island’s Folklore and Heritage Society?”
Sheila smiled. “I am indeed. Are you thinking of joining us?”
Heck, no. “Maybe,” I lied. “It’s hard to fit in all my interests with juggling two jobs.”
The lines on the older woman’s face deepened. “Noreen said you were working up at the hotel.”
“That’s right. I’m just helping out until St. Patrick’s Day.”
Sheila’s mouth formed a hard line. “It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of the Greers.”
“I heard something about an extension and a fairy tree, as well as an archaeological site underneath it.”
Her eyes met mine, and I read a mixture of despair and outrage in their pale blue depths. “They’re planning on cutting the tree down. I’ve fought three successful campaigns in my lifetime to save that tree, and I won’t lose this time.”
“From my understanding, the planning permission has already been granted,” I said gently. “It’s as good as done.”
She grunted. “The war’s not over. I intend to appeal.”
Miss Flynn squeezed my hand. “Best get that tea, dear. Sheila gets very upset at the mention of the hawthorn tree.”
I took the hint and prepared a pot of Earl Grey tea in the manner the Spinsters had taught me when I’d first started working at the Movie Theater Café. On autopilot, I arranged a basket of the Spinsters’ favorite scones and added a ramekin filled with strawberry jam and one filled with clotted cream.
Sheila’s face lit up when I brought their tray. “A scone will be the perfect addition to our tea party.”
I arranged scones on plates while Miss Murphy poured out three cups of tea.
I’d just returned the tray to the kitchen when the bell above the café door jangled. When I emerged from the kitchen, the Two Gerries were seated at their preferred table. Gerry One clutched his head in his hands, and his friend didn’t look much healthier. “Hello, you two. Any more adventures with brownies?”
“Never again,” Gerry Two said. “Slept better than I had in years, but I woke up with an awful headache.”
“I think that batch of poitín was a little strong.” Gerry One tugged at his mustache. “I’m glad we had Lenny’s brownies to soak it up.”
I swallowed a laugh. “What can I get you this evening?”
“Two coffees,” Gerry Two said, “and make them Irish. We’re celebrating.”
&nbs
p; “Oh? Has something happened with the case?”
Gerry One beamed. “Carl was released on bail this morning. He’s not out of the woods yet, but they’ve apparently identified the dead man and can find no connection between him and my grandson.”
“That’s excellent news. So who’s the dead guy?”
“Some fella from Liechtenstein called Alex Scheffler or Scheffel,” Gerry One said. “Never heard of the chap and I have no idea why he was on Whisper Island wearing Eddie Ward’s uniform.”
“Bizarre.” Although I was fascinated by this revelation, the Two Gerries wouldn’t know any more about the dead man, so I changed the subject. “By the way, I’m going to Lisa’s birthday party this evening. You don’t think Lenny would mind?”
Gerry One looked surprised. “Carl’s Lisa? Why would Lenny care? Sure, Carl and Lisa were only married for about five minutes. They’ve managed to work at the hotel for the last couple of years without killing each other.”
“I didn’t think Lenny would mind, but I wasn’t sure what the family dynamic was.”
“Nonexistent as far as I know. Carl never mentions her.”
“Have they filed for divorce?”
Gerry’s bushy white eyebrows drew together to form a V. “I don’t know about that. Doesn’t it take a few years to go through in Ireland?”
“I believe so.” Four or five years, according to Julie. The thought of being stuck with my odious ex for that long gave me the shivers. “Thanks for the feedback. I wanted to be sure it would be okay with Lenny. I’ll go fix your Irish coffees.”
By the time I’d delivered two perfect Irish coffees to the Two Gerries, Julie had arrived, rather breathless. “Mum said you wanted to look over the plans for the hotel’s new extension. We don’t know if these are still accurate, but here are the plans my dad received when he wanted to bid on the project.”
“Thanks, Julie. I appreciate you taking time out of your evening to drop these off.”
Her expression was glum. “No worries. I should have gone for a run, but I didn’t feel like it.”
“What’s up? Bad day?”
“Something like that.” My cousin scrunched up her nose. “In the staff room at lunchtime, Oisin Tate said that he and Mandy Keogh are now officially an item. So I guess all my training for the Runathon was for nothing.”
“Don’t say that. You’ve toned up and gotten in great shape. Even if you started the training with the intention of impressing Oisin, you’ve done an amazing job. I just know you’re going to rock Friday’s race.”
She managed a wan smile. “Thanks, Maggie. I couldn’t have done it without your support.”
“All I did was go with you.”
“That was exactly what I needed. Knowing I had someone to train with at least a couple of days a week made me more motivated to go on my own on the other days.”
I nodded. “Accountability works.”
“I’m being silly to be this disappointed.” She sighed and shoved a stray auburn lock behind her ear. “It’s not like I know Oisin all that well. He was just one of the very few decent-looking single guys on the island.”
A thought struck me. “Hey, do you want to join me tonight at Murphy’s Pub? Some of the crowd from the hotel is meeting for drinks to celebrate Lisa’s birthday.”
Julie glanced up in surprise. “Lisa, Carl’s ex? I wouldn’t have thought you two would get along.”
I laughed. “We don’t. One of the girls was talking about it and said it would be fine if I came along.”
My cousin perked up. “Do you think Marcus, the sexy massage therapist, will be there?”
“I don’t know, but Marcus strikes me as the kind of guy who goes to every party.”
“All right. I’m sold.”
“Julie,” I began, but stopped. I understood my cousin’s determination to find a man, but her tendency to latch onto bad ones worried me. My terrible taste in men was enough for the both of us. Finally, I said, “I like Sven. He seems like a nice guy.”
“Yeah,” she said noncommittally. “He’s okay.”
I glanced over at the Two Gerries’ table. The men were occupied with their Irish coffees and their daily fight over the Irish Independent crossword solution. The Spinsters and Sheila Dunphy were busy with their tea and scones. No one else in the café knew us. Nevertheless, I lowered my voice. “What do you know about Carl Logan’s marriage?”
“Only that it’s over. His mum wasn’t too happy that he got married so fast. I think he’d only known Lisa a couple of months.” Julie leaned closer. “Last I heard, Lisa was pretty chummy with Paul Greer, but it ended last summer.”
“I heard about that. Lisa’s kind of uptight. Do you think she’s the type to hold a grudge?”
“Against who?” My cousin frowned. “Carl or Paul?”
“Both.”
“I don’t know, but I can’t see Lisa terrorizing hotel guests with banshee wails, can you?”
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “But what about Carl? Could she be the one framing him for the murder?”
“That’s a hop, skip, and a jump away from accusing her of being the killer.” My cousin eyed me shrewdly. “Why would Lisa kill a total stranger and pass his body off as Eddie Ward’s?”
“If she did, she can’t have acted alone,” I mused. “Most of Lisa’s height is in her high heels. She can’t be more than five two and she’s skinny as a rail. She doesn’t have the strength to drag a corpse around.”
“That’s true, but Lenny said the dead guy was poisoned. They do say poison is a woman’s weapon.”
I laughed. “Only in books. I came across a few male poisoners during my time on the force.”
“Either way, I can’t see Lisa staging such an elaborate murder.” Julie shook her head. “She has the brains to plan one, but she couldn’t carry it out.”
But she could have had an accomplice. I sighed. I had less than two days left to solve the case of the hotel’s hauntings, and less than three to help Reynolds find a killer. I’d dealt with tougher odds in the past, but I wasn’t feeling optimistic. I needed to call Reynolds and find out what he knew about the dead man. First, I had a drinks party to attend.
18
“Thanks for helping me clean up,” I said two hours later as I locked and bolted the café door.
“No problem.” Julie followed me down the sidewalk.
I nodded to my car, which was parked in its usual spot in front of the café. “Let’s walk. It’s not far from here to the pub.”
We strolled down to the harbor, passing the familiar shops and businesses of Smuggler’s Cove, and the library where Julie’s mother worked. Murphy’s Pub was located on a small side street off the harbor. When we walked in, the place was packed.
I scanned the crowd. “Wow. I didn’t expect it to be this busy on a Wednesday night.”
“Looks like half the hotel’s staff are here,” Julie said, “plus a few other familiar faces.” She waved to a table in the far right corner.
Günter, our Unplugged Gamers pal, held a pint of Guinness to his lips. He waved when he saw us. “Come and join us,” he shouted. “We have spare seats.”
Julie and I battled our way through the crowd. When we reached Günter’s table, I recognized several of his companions. Sven and Marcus from the hotel sat across from him, and Günter sat between Zuzanna and Bernadette.
Sven removed his coat from a stool near the edge of the table. “Think you two can squeeze onto one stool?”
“Nonsense.” Günter stood and made his way to a neighboring table. A moment later, he returned with a triumphant expression and a second stool in his arms. “Now we are all comfortable.”
“Always the gentleman,” Marcus said.
Was it my imagination, or was there an edge to Marcus’s tone? I eyed the man carefully, but his expression remained placid. I looked around the room. “Where’s the birthday girl? I should go over and say hello.”
“She’s standing by the bar with Jack Lo
gan,” Julie said with a laugh. “I think she’d be delighted to be rescued.”
I took another look and my eyes widened. Sure enough, there was Lisa. She was dressed casually in jeans and a loose shirt and wore far less makeup than she did at work. The less fussy look suited her. At her side stood Jack Logan, Lenny’s car salesman cousin, with his trademark smirk in place. In contrast to his smug expression, Lisa wasn’t smiling. In fact, she looked as though she’d been sucking on lemons. “I’ll get our drinks and say hi to Lisa. What do you want, Julie?”
“A vodka and tonic, please.” My cousin’s attention was on Marcus, and she appeared to be oblivious to Sven’s attempts to chat her up. She pointedly ignored Günter, and he returned the favor. Ah, well. I’d done my best. If my cousin was determined to chase after a guy my every instinct told me was bad news, that was her choice. I’d be here to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart.
I maneuvered my way through the throng and touched Lisa’s arm. She sprang back, and I read alarm in her eyes. She shifted her gum from one cheek to the other, reminding me that I never had mentioned the gum business to Reynolds, but now that we knew the dead man wasn’t Eddie Ward, him being diabetic wasn’t an issue.
“Hey,” I said. “I hear it’s your birthday. I hope you’re enjoying your day.”
A shuttered expression hid whatever emotion she was feeling. “Yes, thanks,” she said in a dull monotone. “It’s been very nice.” She sounded as though she were on her way to her execution.
“Can I buy you a drink to wish you a happy birthday?”
“That’s okay, I—”
“I insist,” I said smoothly. “I’m about to order drinks for my cousin and me anyway. What would you like?”
“A red lemonade,” she murmured, studiously not looking at Jack Logan.
Red lemonade was an Irish phenomenon that I recalled fondly from my childhood. “I haven’t had that in years. I think I’ll order one for myself.”
After I’d placed our order, Jack addressed me. “How’s the car, Maggie? Is it zipping you around the island like our slogan promises?”