Jane planted herself in the doorway, hands on hips, as if to prevent them from going. “All the more reason to investigate on our own. I want to get to the bottom of it, Bruce.”
“I just hate that Nolan. He’s not loyal to a fellow officer. What happened to the police brotherhood? Band of blue and all that?” Cheryl manhandled the zipper on her suitcase.
Lost in worry, Jane had difficulty breathing. “I’m surprised you’re giving up. Remember our pact and all.”
“Jane, please reconsider.” Her friend gave her a pleading look, and her husband had on a fierce expression as he took hold of their luggage.
“I really wish you’d stay…” Jane started to tear up as she stepped out of the way, then trailed down the hall after the Breewoods. “So much for our pact and sticking together,” Jane tried again, but Cheryl only brushed her chestnut hair off her forehead with the back of her hand and shook her head.
The Ladners were waiting in the foyer with their bulging luggage stacked at the door. Neither Olivia nor Doug could believe Jane was not going with them, and she hardly believed it herself. Should she snatch her belongings and join them? Jane said, “Remember, you thought the worst of Dale when he abandoned me. Now you’re doing it.”
Olivia answered, “That was different. Dale went home to be with Polly.” Jane cringed, but Olivia only said, “Let us know when you decide to join us. If you leave tomorrow morning you can meet us in Cairnryan. But after that we’re driving to Edinburgh. I called the hotel and they’ve moved up our reservations for us.”
Jane stood to one side as Griff silently comped the bill and checked them out. She remembered Dale had paid for his room, felt smug, and then was ashamed of herself. Why was she being so hardheaded? Would she regret her stubbornness later?
Olivia flew back to her room and returned with her reading glasses. Cheryl double checked her room next. Jane stood transfixed when the club members finally strapped their four suitcases onto the sturdy luggage rack high on top of the puny rental car. They each gave Jane a hug goodbye.
Bruce said, as he crawled into the front seat, “We’ll stop at the police station on the way out of town so I can grab my passport.”
Jane stood by the side of the car. “Did the police tell you that you could leave?”
Bruce answered, “They didn’t say we couldn’t, and they can’t hold us here.”
Cheryl leaned past Bruce and said out the window, “Are you positive you don’t want to come with us? We have a little extra time. We can wait while you grab your stuff.”
All eight eyes were upon her. She almost ran inside for her luggage, but swallowed and shook her head. She stepped back as Bruce reversed the car out of the parking spot, then turned onto the road. Totally shattered, she kept the taillights in sight until they disappeared, then returned inside with leaden feet.
“People traveling together often get on each other’s nerves. I see it all the time.” Mairéid had a weak smile on her face.
“Not this group,” Jane insisted. However, Dale had abandoned her and now the rest of her friends had, too.
Chapter 14
The digital clock had just transitioned to twelve when she heard the noise. Someone was tapping on her door. “Jane? You awake?”
“Griff!” She sat up and the blankets dropped to her lap. She jumped out of bed and threw open the door.
He held out his hands, his eyes imploring her. “I wanted to see you…to make sure you’re all right.” She thought she was past the sob that swelled in her throat, but evidently not. She walked into his arms, smelling his familiar and safe, peaty smell. He rubbed a circle on her back. “I knew you’d still be upset. I feel terrible that your friends left.”
“I know. I can’t believe it.” She trembled against his chest. “It feels weird knowing they’re not in Ireland anymore. They’re on the ferry by now. I think the last boat left before midnight.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go, too, but I’m glad you didn’t. You know how I feel about you, Jane.” He tightened their embrace and nuzzled against her neck, then ran his hands down the back of her thin nightgown in a familiar way.
Her first thought was how glad she was that she’d stayed behind, then she took hold of herself and stepped back. He gave her a slow smile, one that held a million invitations. She was tempted, but resolved. She turned her back to him and snagged her white, terry cloth robe, thrusting her arms into the sleeves and tightening the belt. She turned around to find him perched in the chair near the foot of the bed.
“Are you sure you’re okay, a mhuirnín? I’m worried about you.” His eyes did have an anxious look.
“Of course. I’m used to being on my own.” Unfortunately, that was all too true. She sank onto the bench across from him.
“You’re not on your own. I’m here.” He gave her a steady look, one that gave the impression he was solid and dependable and trustworthy. An image of the substantial fortress surrounding them flashed across her mind.
“I know you are, but I’m totally okay. Really.” At first she’d had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning. Then a peace had come over her. She’d solved murders before. She was determined to figure out this one, too. “I am pretty upset with the police, though. They were rough on Bruce. They can’t possibly think he had anything to do with your uncle’s death.”
His shoulders hunched up and his lips flattened together, as if he believed such a thing was in the realm of possibilities.
“You don’t seriously suspect Bruce?” She held her body rigid and stuck out her lower lip.
“I believe Uncle died from natural causes.” Griff’s gaze darted left.
How could Griff still think that? She raised her chin in the air. “The police are calling it homicide. And those guards might still go after Bruce and try to bring him back here to arrest him. We should investigate on our own.” Should she tell him what she’d discovered so far? But it wasn’t much. Actually, it was next to nothing…just that Sean Smithwicket had a motive and someone had purchased a book on excited delirium and maybe Mairéid was buying drugs—all conjecture. She wouldn’t say anything yet.
Griff reached for her hand and rubbed his fingers along her palm. She stood up. “Griff, let’s talk tomorrow. All right?”
He rose to his feet, too. “Are you sure you’ll be able to sleep? I’m not sure I’ll be able to. I keep thinking about the guards. Why can’t they leave us alone?”
“We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” She propelled him to the door. He tugged a lock of her hair and told her he would see her in the morning. She closed the door and was about to climb back into bed, but caught a glimpse of her purse gaping open on the floor.
She rushed over to look inside. The pages of her notes were still buried at the bottom, but the spiral notebook was gone. She flung the purse to the floor, crossed her arms, and plopped down on the bed.
Did Griffin come into her room to steal her spiral notepad?
Or had it been missing for a while?
When did she last see it?
She’d left her purse in the dining room when she was questioned last night. Griff, Mairéid, Fiona, and Sean, all four of them, were in the room with her purse. And, she’d lost it once before—Mairéid had returned it the day the group went to Galway. So, Mairéid had had the purse for a while. A thought hit her. Her spiral might be in her large tote bag. But when she turned the bag upside down and inside out on the bed, it did not yield up the spiral. When had it disappeared?
She snatched up her purse again and extracted the loose pages of notes from the bottom, carefully smoothing them out. Not only was the spiral lost, but also the sheet with the list of suspects. The spiral with her initial notes and scribblings could have been missing for some time, but she’d put together the suspect list only yesterday morning at the coffee shop.
Was it possible she’d left some pages in Alsander’s room?
She opened the door and pointed her nose up and down the hall, but no one was aro
und. Griff had disappeared. All was silent. She tiptoed down the cold stairs in her bare feet and over the thick carpeted hall to room seven. The door was still unlocked, so she slipped inside. Wishing she’d brought her cell to use as a flashlight, she hesitated, but had no choice, so switched on a lamp. The blankets were pulled taunt across the bed and nothing looked disturbed. She needed to be quick. After dropping to her knees, she scanned the dusty space under the rocking chair, then under the bed, then behind the curtains. Might as well examine the drawers again, but no pages were anywhere.
As quiet as a cat burglar, she closed the door, the latch not making a sound. Her bare feet skimmed over the floor once more as she hastened through the reception area into the dining room. Moonlight shown through a high parapet window casting long fingers of silvery light across the stone floor. Someone, probably Fiona, had swept the hard stones and set clean plates on the buffet table ready for morning.
Jane backed out of the room, uncertain where else to look. The door to the tiny library was open, so she entered in, shutting it silently behind her. The room was as small and dark as a mine shaft. After groping around, she almost upset the lamp on the table, but managed to click on the light. Of course none of her papers were there, nor the spiral, but her attention was drawn to the topmost shelf. She climbed onto the wingback chair and ran her fingers along the worn book bindings. The book on pills was nestled against…a volume of James Ellroy noir mysteries…the manual on excited delirium was gone.
Who could have taken it? Griff? Mairéid? Sean? Surely gum-chewing, magazine-reading Fiona wouldn’t be interested in such a text.
She scanned the next shelf down, then the next, then made a slow inventory of all the shelves. The book had indeed vanished. Along with her spiral and suspect list.
****
The next morning two strange couples were at the reception desk checking into the Ladners’ and Breewoods’ vacated rooms. After the new guests rolled their luggage with loud squeaky wheels down the hallway, Jane asked Fiona, “How did you rent those rooms so fast?”
“Just lucky. Another B&B overbooked and called us this mornin’, then sent ’em over. I barely had time to clean the rooms.” Fiona gave her a wide, welcoming smile befitting a cheerful, greeting hostess. No gum in her mouth, no chip on her shoulder, like the night before. “Breakfast is ready. Go on in.”
“I do need caffeine.” Jane entered the dining room to grab coffee and a plate of food. She took a chair at one of the long tables. Laughter, not laughter she recognized, echoed from the hallway. The strangers soon appeared in the dining room, their faces unfamiliar and unfriendly. Jane sat alone and picked at her eggs before finally giving up.
“Go get some fresh air,” she told herself. She lumbered out to the graveyard and lounged on the cold stone wall in the warm morning sun. She wondered what her friends were doing. Her fingers tapped out a text to Cheryl: Are you at the hotel? How was the ferry ride?
Her phone pinged right away. Yes, here in Scotland. Call me.
Jane’s thumb hit her friend’s contact button. She breathed easier in anticipation of hearing a friendly voice.
The phone rang once and Cheryl picked up. She exploded, “I still can’t believe you didn’t come with us. I’m really, really mad, at myself mostly, for not insisting on it.”
Jane held the phone away from her ear, making a face with her eyes crossed, waiting until the voice at the other end sputtered out. “Cheryl—”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I couldn’t have been. Can you make the drive to Belfast and get on the ferry today? There’s something like six crossings a day. Say you will.”
Pausing, Jane considered this easy way out, but she had a mystery to solve. “I’m going to do a little more investigating first. Then I will.” Although feeling lonesome for her friends, her interest in the murder investigation was still strong. Her interest in Griff was, as well, but she kept that thought to herself.
There was a brief silence, then a long sigh. “I knew it.”
“I’m not too happy that you left either.” Jane slumped against the walled enclosure, her palm grazing the crumbling, dry stone.
“I wasn’t going to stand by and let those stupid policemen accuse Bruce of murder. That darn Nolan…I hate him! I can’t believe he suspects Bruce, who loves justice and fairness and…and…you just need to leave. Now!”
“Quit blasting me. You didn’t let me finish…I’m not happy you left, but I understand. At least I’m trying to. I wish you’d do the same for me.” Jane didn’t totally get it, but was willing to give her friend the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, all right. But honestly, I believe Griff’s the real reason you’re staying, Jane. Think. How likely are you to see him again after this trip?”
Should she share what she’d been up to with Griff? Might as well, since she’d been wanting to tell Cheryl all along. “I didn’t get a chance to say anything last night with everyone else around. And everything else that happened. Griff asked me to move to Ireland.”
“Wha-a-at?” Cheryl stammered. “You can’t do that. Are you willing to live so far from your kids? From me and the rest of your friends…and…what would Dale say? You can’t ditch us.”
Jane wanted to ask, who ditched who? “People don’t always stay in the same place. You moved from Colorado to Oregon.” She shoved her foot in and out of her loafer. “Griff asked me to move into the castle.”
“What do you mean? Did he ask you to marry him?” Cheryl’s hard breathing transferred over the line. Her voice held a skeptical tone.
“No. He asked me to move in with him.” Jane flinched in preparation for the blow.
“Oh, Lord,” Cheryl tut-tutted. “Well, at least I know you won’t do that. That’s so not you.”
“True. It isn’t.” Jane popped her shoe back onto her foot.
“Don’t forget he’s a suspect, even if he’s a nice guy and handsome and all that.”
Jane let out a long breath. Cheryl was right. “How could I forget? He was on my list.”
“Was?”
“I meant, he is on my suspect list.” Jane turned her lips down in a frown. She hadn’t forgotten, exactly.
“He should be at the top of your list. Who had the most access to Alsander’s pill bottle? Who had the most likely motive? Who had his hands on Alsander when he died? Griffin O’Doherty, that’s who.”
“Mairéid had the same motive and opportunity. Let’s keep an open mind here.” Jane clutched the phone, took a breath, and plunged in. “About my suspect list, it disappeared and the page of suspects is missing. My spiral notepad, too.”
“You always did like to make lists. Are you sure you didn’t leave your notes somewhere?”
“This is what I think happened. I left my purse in the dining room while I was being questioned last night before you guys showed up. When I got back, the zipper wasn’t all the way closed. Fiona or Mairéid could have sneaked into it. Or Sean Smithwicket. Or all of them…” Or Griff when he showed up at her room, but she didn’t mention that. “I can’t remember the last time I saw my spiral because I’ve been making notes on some loose paper, you know, on the hotel stationary. It could have been missing for a long time. Remember when I left my purse in the dining room and Mairéid returned it to me the next day? She could have taken my spiral then.”
“You’ve been a little careless.”
“Yeah, well. Another thing, Mairéid is the one who followed us to Galway.” Jane whooshed her hand through the air, like an airplane in flight.
“When?”
“The day you and me and Olivia were in the car and I hit a post and lost the side mirror…”
“Oh, yeah.”
“That was Mairéid tailgating us. I saw her car in the parking lot, a black compact with a dent in the hood.”
Cheryl hesitated on the other end of the connection, then let out a big breath. “Be careful, my friend. Now that drugs are involved, it’s even scarier.”
Jane tried to t
amp down the fear, but her tightened chest and shallow breathing told her the fear was just under the surface. “I’ll be careful.” A gust of wind blew across the walled courtyard, whisking her hair into her mouth and eyes. She swiped the hair away. “What are you going to do in Scotland now that you’ve arrived early?”
“Bruce and Doug are thrilled with the extra days. They’re trying to get tee times on more golf courses. And Olivia wants to shop.”
Jane smiled at how ordinary their plans were. It felt good to talk about her friends’ agenda. There would be some relief in simply moving on when the time came. “You are making me re-think staying in Ireland. But I only have three more days here.”
Cheryl said with disappointment in her voice, “So, you won’t get here until Thursday, then.”
Jane was at peace with her decision to remain at the castle now that it was morning and she’d slept on it. “That’s my plan. Remember, the trip was originally ten days in Ireland with a short side trip to Scotland at the end before heading home. I really would like to get to the bottom of this before my time here runs out.”
“And prove Bruce didn’t do it. Wrap this thing up.”
“Which is it? Join you now or solve the murder first?”
“Both, of course. Fast as you can.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Jane saluted the phone. “Talk to you soon.” They said their goodbyes. She disconnected and tucked her windblown hair behind her ear. She needed to solve the case and join them, but where to begin?
The wind flattened the tall grasses, lashing the stalks against the bottoms of the tombstones. Daffodils, with their sunny yellow and white, upright, fluted petals, bowed under the breeze. But suddenly the sun dashed behind the clouds and the warm temperature dipped a few degrees. Jane buttoned her sweater across her chest and rubbed her hands up her arms.
She’d seen Mairéid a couple of times now in what looked like drug transactions…could she corner the woman and press her into a confession?
A Stewed Observation Page 15