Murder in Thistlecross

by Amy M. Reade

  Now that the attack on Brenda had turned into a murder investigation, the police would need to search every inch of the castle for any information that could lead them to the killer. They had apparently started in the sitting room and in my bedroom, as I discovered when I tried to go into my room and was stopped by one of the officers in charge.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “This is my room, but I’m moving out. I need to get my things.”

  “I’m afraid you can’t get in here right now. We’re conducting a search and it’s going to take a while.”

  I turned around, dejected, dreading the thought of having to come back to the castle again. The officer thought they might be done in my room by the next morning, so he suggested I return then.

  I returned to the coach house to find Sylvie and Seamus working. Sylvie was on her laptop, working on a photo collage, and Seamus was online, doing research about a place he wanted to visit to do some painting. And though they offered to set their work aside to spend some time with me, I didn’t want to disturb them. I went into my room and found a book that looked interesting. I had just settled onto the bed to read when my mobile phone rang. It was Griff, with an offer to spend the afternoon horse riding through the woods where we had seen the fairy glen.

  I accepted immediately, thinking a ride would tire me out and ensure that I slept through the night, but also thinking it would be nice to spend some time with Griff. It had been a while since he and I had done anything together.

  I met him in the stables several minutes later. He had saddled Penelope for me and Caesar for himself. We rode side-by-side to the woods, through the fields in front of the castle. I looked back at the castle once. It was shrouded by fog, its turrets just barely visible through the white mist that covered it. It looked almost haunted, like a place out of the past where ghosts might roam. I would miss that beautiful old place and hoped that Rhisiart and Hugh and Sian wouldn’t ruin its charm and sodden its rich history.

  But Griff was up ahead waiting for me, and it was time to ride with him and try to forget all that had happened to dampen my love for the old castle. I couldn’t forget Annabel or Brenda, both of whom had died within its strong walls, but I could try to push the memories of the violence and the pain from my mind.

  “Shall we walk for a while, give the horses a rest?” Griff called, turning in his saddle to look at me.

  “Sure.”

  We slid down to the ground and walked a good distance into the woods, holding the reins so the horses would follow us obediently. Griff reached for my hand and I let him hold it in his, the grip sure and warm and steady.

  We rode again before we came to the fairy glen, and this time the waters were rushing and swollen with recent rains. We sat down to talk when we reached the waterfall, tying up the horses near the stream so they could drink their fill.

  I told him about my visit to Maisie’s house and how happy I was to see that she was surrounded by people who loved her, people who would help make the future a little brighter for her. He listened as I explained that I couldn’t get into my room to take away my belongings and made me promise that I would take either him or Seamus with me when I returned to the castle the next day.

  Finally, as if reading my mind, he reached out and stroked my face with his finger and leaned in to kiss me. It felt right, just as it had before, and when he sat back and gazed at me, I knew with certainty that I couldn’t leave the village. I had to stay.

  When we returned to the coach house Griff said he couldn’t come in. He needed to get back to the stables. I went inside and found Sylvie and Seamus still hard at work. Sylvie closed her laptop after a couple minutes and leaned back into the sofa with a sigh. “I saw you come up the walk with Griff. It looks like things are smoothed over,” she said with a grin.

  “They are. Normally I’d be furious that you butted in, but I’m grateful for it.” I returned her smile and sat down next to her. “I’m not leaving. I’ve decided to stay.”

  “In the castle?” The look she turned on me was one of confusion and shock.

  “No, just in the village. I can’t stay at the castle any longer, but I realized when Griff and I were at the fairy glen that he means more to me than I even realized.”

  “And it’s all because of me,” she said, winking and releasing a contented sigh. I pushed her arm and she fell sideways onto the sofa, laughing. Then she sobered. “Rhisiart called while you were out. He wants to talk to you.”

  “Ugh. I wonder what he wants.”

  “He didn’t say. Just asked me to tell you to come over to the castle when you got back from your walk.”

  “I’m not going over there. I’ll call him, but I’m not going to talk to him face-to-face.”

  “Good for you,” Sylvie said.

  I dialed Rhisiart and waited for him to answer.

  “Yes?”

  “Rhisiart, it’s Eilidh. Sylvie tells me you called looking for me.”

  “I did. I’d like you to come over here so we can get some things straightened out.”

  “What things?”

  “We need to discuss your salary going forward, what your duties are going to be around here when everything calms down and the police allow us back into the office.” He referred to the sitting room.

  “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, Rhisiart. I’m afraid I won’t be coming back to the castle.”

  There was silence on his end. Then, “Did I hear you correctly? You’re not coming back?”

  “That’s right. I guess you can consider this my notice.”

  “Well. This is unexpected.”

  “Are you serious? How can you expect me to come back to work in the castle when someone has been murdered in my bedroom? It’s time for me to find someplace else to work.”

  “But you weren’t hurt at all.”

  “Maybe so, but I think we all know that attack was meant for me. And I won’t stay around waiting for it to happen again.” I glanced over at Sylvie, who was listening to my side of the conversation. She pumped her fist in the air and I smiled.

  “You’ll get a substantial raise if you come back to work here.”

  “Rhisiart, you don’t understand. I’m not coming back.”

  His tone changed from mere incredulity to hard and cold. “I don’t know who’s going to hire you around here now that your name is mentioned in connection with Brenda’s murder.”

  Was he threatening me? “I’m not worried about that, Rhisiart. I have to go now.” I rang off and leaned back. “That call wasn’t what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?” Sylvie asked.

  “I don’t know, but not that.”

  The phone rang. I looked at the screen—Rhisiart. “I’m not answering that.”

  “The nerve of him.”

  “Do you think Seamus will go over to the castle with me in the morning to get everything out of my bedroom?”

  “Of course he will,” Sylvie said.

  The evening was a quiet one. We watched a movie in the living room; it was a comedy. I think Sylvie chose it because she wanted to cheer me up a bit. As the darkness approached I had become more melancholy, weepier about Brenda. I texted Maisie to see how she was holding up, and she answered that the first night without Brenda had been hard. Her sister and brother were staying with her, though, so she had company.

  Seamus was coughing during the movie, so much so that Sylvie told him to go into another room if he couldn’t stop bothering us with the noise. I felt bad for him. He excused himself to go into the kitchen every time he had a coughing fit, so he ended up missing parts of the movie.

  So I wasn’t surprised when he was so sick the next morning that he couldn’t drag himself out of bed. Feverish and groggy, he staggered into the living room to ask me to wait for a few minutes. He said he would get dressed and w
alk me over to the castle.

  “Seamus, you’re going straight back to bed,” I told him. Sylvie stood nodding next to me with her arms crossed over her chest. “Even if you went with me this morning, you’d probably collapse even before getting to my room.”

  “I’m sorry, lass,” he mumbled, feeling his forehead. “Can we do it tomorrow?”

  “Of course,” I answered. He turned and went back into the bedroom, coughing and moaning.

  “I’m sure he’ll feel better tomorrow. He never gets sick,” Sylvie said. She went into the kitchen to make Seamus a mug of tea. I had gotten up that morning with a feeling of determination to get over to the castle and retrieve all my belongings, and a sickly Seamus wasn’t going to stop me. I pulled out my phone and called Griff.

  But there was no answer, and my call went straight to his voicemail. I was in a quandary. I didn’t want to wait to get over to the castle, but I was a bit worried. Perhaps the police were still over there.

  The answer came in a phone call from Maisie. She was in the castle, she said, packing up the few personal things she and Brenda had left there, and she asked me to come over to say goodbye. She told me she couldn’t work in the castle any longer after what had happened, and she was leaving as quickly as possible. I couldn’t say no.

  I slipped out the front door of the coach house unnoticed by anyone. I hurried down the path leading to the front of the castle and stood looking at its magnificent Norman façade with sorrow and apprehension.

  The massive front door creaked as I pushed it open. I stood in the main hall, listening for voices, sounds, anything that would tell me where the family members were. But I heard nothing. I made a beeline for the stairs leading down to the kitchen and I found Maisie in the warm, comforting space, packing a small bag with a few kitchen utensils and jars of vegetables she had brought from home after canning them herself.

  “They don’t deserve all these canned goodies,” she muttered to me when she saw me standing in the doorway. “I brought them to share when Annabel was still alive, but I can’t abide the thought of those people eating them.” She looked upward, as if she could see Rhisiart and Hugh, Cadi and Sian as she spoke.

  “I’ll miss you,” I told her.

  “I’ll miss you too, my dear,” she said. “But surely you’re leaving too?”

  “Yes. In fact, I’ll probably clean out my room upstairs while I’m here this morning. Have you seen any of the family about?”

  “No. It’s been silent since I got here.”

  “Are you going to be here for a little while?”

  “Probably. I have to find Brenda’s personal things and pack them up.”

  “All right. As long as you’re going to be around I’m going to head upstairs and pack up my things. It shouldn’t take very long. I have suitcases up there that I can fill.”

  “I’ll be down here. I really don’t want to go back upstairs,” she said.

  I went upstairs into the dim hallway and walked to my room, my footsteps echoing on the stone floor. I was as quiet as I could be, since I didn’t want to draw attention to myself if any members of the family happened to be nearby.

  There was no police tape across my doorway, so they must have finished processing the scene. Good, I thought. I should be able to get out of here in no time.

  I opened the door to my bedroom and was immediately taken aback by the visceral reaction of my mind and body to the sight of the place where Brenda had been so brutally attacked. My stomach lurched and I swayed, holding onto the door frame for support. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to return to my room.

  But I had to get my things and go. Now that I was here, I wasn’t backing down only to have to come back the following day.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, I closed the door behind me and took my suitcases from the closet, lining them up under the window. I began taking clothes and other belongings from the bureau and placing them into the suitcases, then I turned toward the nightstand to remove all my things from it.

  It was then I noticed the door opening ever so slightly. I stopped and stood silently, hoping whoever was there would just go away. I chided myself for leaving it unlocked. I couldn’t go anywhere and I couldn’t hide—the person had probably heard me moving around in the room.

  Chapter 20

  The door swung open fully and Rhisiart stood in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “I came to pack up my things.”

  “You need permission from me or Hugh or Sian to be in the castle.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you gave notice that you’re quitting your job. That makes you a trespasser.”

  “Rhisiart, I can assure you there’s nothing I want from this building except the things I brought here with me.”

  “I’m busy right now,” he answered. “I’m working on a new book. I think I’ll ask Hugh to come keep an eye on you.” He left and I could hear his footsteps quickly receding down the hallway. It wasn’t long before Hugh arrived, looking smug and angry.

  “Rhisiart tells me you’re leaving our employ. How are we supposed to get the bills paid and the filing done and find anything if you’re gone?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. You’ll find someone to take my place, I’m sure. In the meantime you may just have to do some of that work yourselves.”

  He closed the door behind him. My eyes darted to the lock, which he deftly clicked with a slight movement of his wrist. I was stuck in here with him. My phone lay on the bed and by then I was working on getting my things out of the big desk; it would have been too obvious if I had suddenly lunged for my phone. Besides, I didn’t want him to know I was uncomfortable.

  “Is there anything I can tell you now that would help you and the others get organized?” I asked, noting that my voice sounded higher than usual. I wanted to keep him focused on the work of running the castle.

  “Not that I can think of. Cadi can figure it all out if necessary. Tell me, what exactly do you know about the other will Annabel made before she died?”

  Not this again. “Hugh,” I said with a sigh, “there is no will. Rhisiart had been following me and my cousin one night and I was annoyed with him. I figured that if he wanted to hear something really juicy, I would give him something. So I made up the story about a missing will, drawn up after the one that was in the lawyer’s office.”

  He arched his eyebrows at me, clearly not believing a word I said.

  “You know I can’t let you leave until we know where that will is hidden, and I think you know exactly where it is,” he said, his voice low and his eyes flashing. This man meant to do me harm, that much was certain.

  “Hugh, how many times do I have to tell you the will doesn’t exist?” I asked, my anger rising with my apprehension. I wondered if I could somehow alert Maisie to the danger I was in. I stomped my foot on the floor, hoping she could hear, but I doubted it would do any good. If she heard it at all, she would just assume I had dropped something while I was packing.

  “Maisie can’t hear you, if that’s what you’re thinking. She went outside to her car.”

  “Hugh, listen to me. I’m telling you the truth. Annabel loved you and your brothers. She wanted nothing more than to see you inherit this castle when she died. Of course she didn’t think she would die as early as she did, but I’m sure she would be happy to know that the castle is under its rightful ownership right now.”

  “The problem with lying is that no one ever knows when you’re telling the truth, Eilidh.” Hugh’s voice was calm, low, rational, but there was a malice that lay behind his words, a malice I could see in his eyes.

  “And we are forced to assume that you were telling the truth the night you told your cousin about the will. And that you’re lying now because you’re scared. I can see that you’re scared.”

&nb
sp; “I’m not scared.”

  “Of course you are. Listen to yourself. Your voice is shaking, you keep wiping your hands on your trousers. You’re terrified. And you should be.”

  With that he lunged at me, hatred glittering in his eyes. I dashed around the bed and stood on the other side, away from him, watching him warily. He backed up and stood facing me across the bed, then suddenly he was leaping over the bed, scrambling to get to where I stood. I had no choice but to run away from him, but this couldn’t last long. The room wasn’t huge—he was going to catch me.

  I ran headlong into the door. With shaking hands I somehow managed to unlock the door and fling it open. I could feel the rush of air at my back when Hugh grasped my shirt as I ran out of the room, but I wrenched it away from him.

  I don’t know what compelled me to run in the opposite direction of the great hall, but before I knew it I was headed toward the crumbling wing of the castle, the place where no one ever dared to go. A heavy wooden door separated me from the stone ruins of the unused wing, but to my shock and immense relief, I found it unlocked. I couldn’t imagine why Annabel hadn’t kept the door locked, but I forced that thought from my mind, grateful that she hadn’t. Hugh was only a step or two behind me, but I thrust the door closed as he reached my location.

  That only bought me a second or so of time, but it was enough for me to scramble out of the way of the door and over a pile of mossy stones that lay in my path. I was vaguely aware that there was no roof above me, and rain was falling softly. The old stone floor was wet and slippery. With a cry of rage, Hugh raced through the door behind me; he grabbed my arm and wrenched it behind me as I slid on the floor and cried out in pain.

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he seethed between clenched teeth. “You couldn’t just keep on working, minding your own business. No, you had to go around making noise about another will. Now we have to find it and destroy it before the lawyer gets wind of it and we lose the castle. And you realize, of course, that you’re not getting out of here. That stupid coke-sniffing bitch is dead because of you, because you tricked me into thinking you were in the bedroom. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’ve lost all the income from selling her the coke because of you.” He shook my arm like a jackhammer and shoved my head hard into the floor.