Page 14 of Death at Inishmore Castle

“Is Kieran here?”

I shook my head. “The bridge is underwater, and we have no cell or internet service at the moment. The cavalry can’t get here. The rain doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon.”

She frowned and then blew out a breath. The breath was a sign she was trying to control her emotions. “Oh, dear. What are we going to do?”

I patted her arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. And the storm should pass by morning. Gordon and I left Rob and Scott to keep an eye on the room with the body. I don’t want to risk the killer coming back to change or hide anything. We can’t be toocareful, though. When we are in the larger groups, I need you to keep your eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.”

She shivered. “Why does this sort of thing keep happening?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. We do seem to find ourselves in the middle of trouble wherever we go. Just lucky, I guess.” I tried to make a joke, but she didn’t smile.

“Nora’s been talking about their resident ghosts,” Lizzie said. “She has so many stories that sound true I started to believe ghosts were real. My nerves were already on edge when we heard the scream.”

I smiled. “I don’t know about ghosts, but the family does have its fair share of unexplained deaths, according to Gordon, that is.”

“Really?”

I nodded.

“I know I’ve probably asked this already, but do you have any idea why someone would have wanted to kill the priest?”

I shook my head. “No. Except for the fact I don’t think he was a priest any more than Sister Sarah is a nun. That’s one of the reasons I came with Gordon to check on the scream. I was hoping to speak to some of the other guests. Is anyone suspicious about the priest?”

“No. I don’t think anyone has noticed he isn’t here.”

We moved back over to the others who were still circled around Sister Sarah, holding the bag of ice on her ankle. She winced a few times but was she really hurt? I wasn’t so certain.

“Madam, are you ready for dinner?” a woman asked from the doorway.

Nora looked around the room as if she wasn’t certain what to do. She appeared near tears, and I didn’t blame her. It had been a crazy night and she was trying to pretend that there wasn’t a dead guy in her study.

“I could do with some food,” Lolly said, taking over. “I think we all could.” She was good at that sort of thing. She was one of the kindest women I’d ever met, but she had an authoritative voice. And I’d never seen anyone argue with her.

“Right, then,” Nora said. “Cook, we are ready.”

The American couple and our neighbor Brenna helped to position Sister Sarah’s chair and the stool her foot rested on so she could face the table. I sat down on the right side of the nun with my sister next to me. Lolly and Brenna sat on the other side.

The soup course was one of my favorites, Colcannon with potatoes. The nun clasped her hands and bowed her head. She whispered some words. Lolly bowed her head as well, and we followed suit.

The words she said didn’t sound like any prayer I’d ever heard. But who was I to judge? Still there was something odd about her. When she stopped her prayer, we raised our heads.

The soup was hearty and quite tasty. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry. I felt a bit guilty for leaving Rob and Scott behind, but this was my chance to have some casual conversations with the other guests.

“I’m sorry to hear about your accident,” I told the sister. “I hope your ankle will be okay.”

“Wasn’t an accident, I tell you. I was pushed. I’m lucky to be alive. I’ll be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

Bruises no one would be able to see since she was covered from head to toe.

That was terrible to think, but I believed my sister. If she thought the nun was faking the accident, then she was. Lizzie was always aware of her surroundings. Unlike me, who was often lost in thought as characters spoke in my head. I had to force myself to be in the present. And this was one of those times when I needed to be aware.

“But you didn’t see anyone?”

“It was pitch-black,” the nun said angrily. “How was I supposed to see anything? There was no light.”

“Maybe it was a gust of air,” Brenna offered. She was supermodel beautiful and reminded us of Lupita Nyong’o. She was just as gorgeous on the inside and had become a lovely and dependable friend. “The castle does have odd drafts. I felt one on the second-floor staircase and in my room. It was so strong it lifted the bottom ruffle of my shirt. And the windows were closed tight.”

She shivered.

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