“She insisted on talking to Elliot as soon as she could speak. Said she thought she heard a noise in the night and went to the kitchen to see if the dishwasher was flooding again. Once she was in the kitchen, she realized the noise was coming from the basement and went down to check it out. She found Colin clearing out the rest of his plastic bins. She asked him why he was there in the middle of the night and his response was to pick up one of the wooden crates and smash her in the side of the head with it. When she woke up, she was bound and gagged, just as you found her.”
“Poor thing. Has Colin admitted to sending the ransom demand?”
“So far he refuses to say anything, but we suspect the amount of police around the shelter after Jenny’s death was making him very nervous. Not surprising with all those crates of his drugs sitting in the basement. He began quietly clearing out all the storage bins in the cellar, and that’s when Sheila surprised him and he took her away. Now Colin’s trying to rely on his alibi that he was with Amanda all that night, but Elliot’s piecing things together. Amanda’s admitted to the police that she always sleeps heavily when she’s at Colin’s. Much more than usual. Elliot thinks Colin may have been routinely giving Amanda something to make her sleep, setting her up as a solid alibi on the nights he slipped out to do business.”
“Wouldn’t doubt it,” I said. “He must have been furious when Amanda kept on at the police about Sheila’s disappearance.”
“It would certainly have been inconvenient. Of course, Amanda told him right away about the ransom note, and she says Colin began to press her to back away from the police. He even encouraged her to tell them she’d heard from Sheila and everything was fine. We suspect he was trying to buy himself a few extra days to figure out what to do with Sheila, not to mention the added bonus of making off with twenty thousand pounds of your money.”
“Did Urquhart know that Colin had kidnapped Sheila?”
“He vehemently denies any knowledge of the kidnapping, but we’ve found evidence that he was storing Colin’s drug shipments in his warehouse in Leith. He was well aware of the real nature of Colin’s business. Duncan Ross is now giving out like a slot machine, hoping to distance himself from his wife and his fellow board members. He’s willing to testify that Urquhart was trying to force him to create a second set of books for Templeton Farms to help launder the money from the drug sales. They were arguing about it the night Sheila was taken.”
“Did Ross confess to helping Urquhart drug and blackmail Burley?”
“His lawyer won’t let him say much about that. I’m sure they’ll try to use his testimony to help him avoid jail on the assault charges.”
“And Lila Ross?”
“Jury’s out on that one. Unless someone can testify that they saw her put the drugs in the drink she gave Jenny, we may never be able to prove it. But Elliott will keep trying.”
* * *
—
Four days had passed since the fire in the shed and the weather had finally turned, for the moment at least. An early morning mist had given way to glorious sun, although the air was still cool, but it was a good sign for Fiona and Reverend Craig’s wedding tomorrow. All the village was in a flurry making final preparations.
Those four days had been an adventure for Grant and me as well. Brenna packed up and left for Wales as soon as she returned Grant to the Larches. I know he regretted causing her pain, but his step was freer and his smile was brighter the moment she left. Louisa insisted that I come to stay at the big house as soon as Brenna was gone. She claimed it made it easier for her to look after us all, and besides, she argued, Liam needed to be with both Nora and me.
I could’ve argued, but I didn’t. Louisa’s food was the best medicine there was and it placed Grant and me in close proximity day and night. I thought we were being subtle, but happiness is hard to hide. By day two Louisa showed up at Grant’s bedroom door with a breakfast tray set for two and a grin that would have done the Cheshire cat proud.
But today we were returning to our usual domestic arrangements. Sheila was being released from the hospital and Grant had invited her to come and recuperate at the Larches along with Nora. Amanda was coming to stay with me at the Haven for the wedding weekend. She was licking her wounds after the sudden implosion of her relationship with Colin and struggling to deal with the scale of his betrayal. Trish had tasked the two of us with making cutlery bundles, and we sat at the kitchen table at the Haven wrapping a knife, a fork, and a spoon in a pink napkin and tying it with white curling ribbon. Amanda was doing a better job than I was. Mine somehow looked stiff and sloppy. Hers were elegant and neat.
“Thanks for having me to stay,” Amanda said, using the back side of her scissors to make an elaborate tendril of ribbon. “I just feel like such a fool for not seeing what Colin was up to.”
I gave what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “Love makes fools of us all, they say.”
“He kept me from talking to Greer about our relationship by saying she was insanely jealous. If the two of us had talked sooner, I’m sure we’d have figured out something was wrong much more quickly.”
“Colin was clever at playing the people in his life off against one another,” I pointed out.
“All that time I thought he was interested in me. Coming to the shelter to see me. Supporting me when I refused to call the cops, and encouraging me to tell them we’d heard from Sheila. He was playing me, using me as an alibi, and pumping me for information.”
I didn’t say so aloud, but Amanda was right. As soon as I told Amanda that the cops had been brought in and were looking for the kid who picked up the money, he was found dead. The weight of that mistake still hung over me like a shroud. Amanda’s information had kept Colin one step ahead of us all the time.
“Have you heard from Greer?” I asked.
“She sent me a note and said she wanted to talk but wasn’t ready just yet. So much to process and so much going on, but it seems that she’s planning to continue running the farm on her own. I hope she can make a go of it.”
“And how are things at the Rest?”
“Well, one bit of good to come from all of this, the folks at Manorcare aren’t anxious to take over our property now that it has been a crime scene, so they’ve backed out of the deal with Urquhart. Cheryl and Karen have been assigned a legal aid attorney to help them answer questions about the incidents surrounding Jenny’s death.”
“I heard Duncan Ross was out on bail, and Lila Ross has been taken in for questioning. I’m sure he and Lila will hire the best lawyers money can buy. Some slick git who’ll get them both off.”
“And in the end no one will be held accountable for Jenny’s death,” Amanda lamented.
“Not unless Lila confesses,” I replied sadly. “Without a witness or a confession, it’ll be damn near impossible to prove she tampered with the drink or that she intended to kill Jenny.” I might have saved Sheila, but I’d failed at holding the Rosses accountable for their foul behavior.
“The police have convinced Cheryl and Karen and some of the other girls to file charges against Duncan Ross for assault,” Amanda said. “In the meantime, he’s resigned from the board and I’ve asked Reverend Craig to take his place.”
“What about Urquhart?
“He’s also resigned from the board, and his business is being run by one of his associates for the time being. At least it means I don’t have to move everyone out of the Rest at the moment, but it may only be a short reprieve.”
Amanda’s pile of perfectly tied cutlery continued to grow. “If we could just find a way to get the housing issue settled permanently,” she said wistfully.
I smiled. “I might be able to work something out on that front.”
“I can’t ask any more favors of you. You’ve already done way too much for us,” Amanda insisted.
“We’ll see,” I answered. I
wasn’t ready to say anything yet, but I’d instructed my solicitor to make a bid to purchase the building that housed the Shepherd’s Rest outright. Somehow I had a feeling that Richard Urquhart would be happy to get out from under the Templeton Trust and all connected with it, even if it meant taking a loss on the sale.
Amanda sighed again. “I’ll be so glad to have Sheila back with us. She’s definitely feeling stronger. Already lecturing me about not blaming myself for what happened with Colin. Telling me it was an abusive relationship.”
“It was. You know more than most that not all abuse is physical. He took advantage of you and now he’s left you questioning yourself. It’s not your fault any more than it’s the fault of your residents when they get abused by the men in their lives. Make use of this experience as a way to connect with the women you serve and then move on. You are a wonderful woman. Find someone who will appreciate you for you.”
Chapter 23
I was still sore from my crawl to the surface from the cellar of the shed and I was struggling to find something to wear for the wedding. I’d started by borrowing a dress from Louisa. A green chiffon that fell from the shoulders without clinging to my waist or sides. I tried it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked as if I was wearing a maternity dress.
I ripped the gown off over my head and threw it to the floor. The bandages that covered my stomach and left side didn’t hide the faint shrapnel scar that ran down my right hip. A souvenir from darker days in the Middle East. The outward wound had healed remarkably well, but the internal damage remained. There would be no maternity clothing for me. It was a door that was slammed shut by the shards of metal that embedded themselves in my pelvis so many years ago.
In the years since then, I’d convinced myself that it didn’t matter. I’d never had much of a rapport with kids, being an only child myself, and besides, my job didn’t lend itself to finding nice stable men and settling down. It was just fine. Kids were entirely optional and it just wasn’t for me, so why was I crying?
Because I was standing on the brink of a relationship that, for the first time in my life, I could envision being long-term. A relationship with a good man who loved children and, by getting involved with me, would be denied that pleasure. Would he eventually grow to resent me or at least our circumstances? I was bringing so much baggage into this affair. We’d have to talk about it, but I couldn’t face it just yet. It was too soon.
In the end, I’d settled on a navy blue dress of stretchy fabric that at least moved with me. Louisa loaned me a hat in bright pink with a small veil. I felt ridiculous, but at least I didn’t look as bad as Katherine and her fellow bridesmaids. The lavish fluffs of pale pink tulle gave them each the appearance of balls of candyfloss.
The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. Brenna was gone, but her floral legacy was spectacular. Banks of white roses and lily of the valley spilled out all over the church and everyone in the village was there, dressed in their best. Liam looked quite smart wearing booties because of the burns that were healing on his paws. He was there to give moral support to his friend Sampson, and he settled down in the aisle next to Grant and Nora. Sampson wore a black bow tie around his neck with the wedding rings tucked into a small pouch in the rear. He walked into the church with dignity, looking neither right nor left. Reverend Craig handed me his leash and the two of us sat in the front row waiting for our turn to participate.
Fiona, on the arm of her father, arrived at the door of the church positively incandescent with joy. And the look on Reverend Craig’s face as she made her way down the aisle was enough to bring a tear even to my jaded eye. It was a touching ceremony. Long, but touching. As the sound of the bagpipes faded away, the crowd made a break for the reception and a much-needed drink.
I came to sit with Amanda and Sheila at a table under the tent in the garden. Nora joined us, bringing over a plate of mini meat pies and sausage rolls to tempt us. She sat down next to her mother and rested her head on her shoulder. It made me so happy to see the two of them together and at peace.
“Did you tell them our news yet?” Nora prompted her mum.
The two of us turned expectantly to Sheila, who looked a bit flustered. “Well, I was hoping to talk to Amanda about this, not just tell her,” Sheila scolded gently.
“Go on,” Amanda said. “Is it something good?”
The smile on Nora’s face said it was.
“Shiobhan, the woman who runs the pub, is looking for a cook and someone to help out in the new inn. She’s offered me the job and—”
“That’s wonderful,” Amanda said without hesitation. “Don’t you go fretting about me. I’ll miss you, of course, but this is the perfect place for the two of you to start fresh.”
“Have you found a place to stay yet?” I asked.
“Mr. MacEwen says there’s a cottage on the estate coming available in the next few weeks. He’s told us we can have it for as long as we need.” Sheila teared up. “I just can’t believe how kind everyone has been. We’re strangers here.”
“Not anymore,” I said. “You’re now a part of the Balfour family. Welcome aboard.”
I looked across the room and caught sight of Patrick looking a bit like a pirate with his arm in a sling and a black bandage set at a jaunty angle above his eye. He was standing by the bar with his chef, Gordon, discussing the relative merits of two different Abbey Glen expressions. Although the police found that several local restaurants were helping to distribute Colin’s wares, La Mer was not one of them. Patrick was relieved and, in the wake of his recent brush with mortality, he’d taken the plunge and invited Gordon to be his plus one for the wedding.
I joined the two at the bar and received a warm embrace from them both.
“Patrick’s promised me a seat at the next sold-out Masterclass,” Gordon said, beaming. “I think we’re going to have to expand our Abbey Glen offerings at La Mer. Maybe even do a whisky pairing event.”
“That would be wonderful. How are things at the restaurant? I hope the police presence hasn’t been bad for business.”
“We were all shocked about Colin, but in the end we’ve done nothing wrong and we’ve had some exposure on the nightly news. It may have bothered some people, but we still had a fifteen percent increase in requests for tables this weekend.”
“How did you manage to get away?”
“I’ve hired a new sous-chef. She’s great, and I really need to get a bit of time to myself now and again.” Gordon smiled at Patrick.
I left the two of them and continued to circulate around the room before retreating to the corner where Liam lay sprawled on the floor in a food coma. I stood looking out over the crowd of familiar faces. Hunter making his way through the food, sampling everything, his wife, Mary, giving him a playful swat. Trish, in a lime green floral, waved from the other side of the room where she was chatting up one of the local lads. Fiona and Craig seated at the head table like royalty, reveling in the magic of their day.
Grant entered the tent carrying another case of wine for the bartender. He delivered his load and joined me, dropping a light kiss on my lips.
I looked around nervously. “Are you ready to go public with this?” I asked.
He gave me a slow, lazy smile that turned my knees to water. “Aye, lass. Won’t be a soul that doesn’t know by tomorrow, and that suits me. Less explaining to do.”
Grant was right—there were no secrets in a village this size and this was a very public place to unveil our new status.
The music shifted to a slower beat and Grant led me out onto the floor.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” I said.
A faint smile danced around the corners of Grant’s mouth. “I never thought it would be.”
“I’ve been alone for so long, I’m really no good at being considerate and thoughtful,” I pointed out.
Grant rai
sed an eyebrow as he looked down at me, his eyes like flashing emeralds. “You trying to talk me out of this?”
I smiled. “No, I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”
“I have a very good idea, and I think I can take it.”
I placed my hand on the back of his neck, drawing his lips down to mine. “Then here we go,” I murmured.
To Macallan, the most loyal of fur friends and a never-ending source of affection and amusement.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to all the usual suspects, my family, my friends, my fabulous agent Abby Saul at Lark Words, and especially to my readers. You have taken Abi and her crew into your hearts and I appreciate all of your support and kind words.
Special shout-outs to Amanda who teaches me all things knitting, to Lisa who wanted a sheep, and to Hawthorne who needed one! To Dave for his well-considered feedback, and to Katherine for being my sounding board.
Sláinte!
BY MELINDA MULLET
Single Malt Murder
Death Distilled
Deadly Dram
Died in the Wool
PHOTO: MARION MEAKEM PHOTOGRAPHY
MELINDA MULLET was born in Dallas and attended school in Texas; Washington, D.C.; England; and Austria. She spent many years as a practicing attorney before pursuing a career as a writer. Author of the Whisky Business Mystery series, Mullet is a passionate supporter of childhood literacy. She works with numerous domestic and international charities striving to promote functional literacy for all children. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family.
melindamullet.com
Facebook.com/mulletmysteries
Twitter: @mulletmysteries
Every great mystery needs an Alibi
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