Page 33 of Death at Inishmore Castle

I shivered.

My sister cocked her head and stared at me strangely. Mr. Poe did the same thing when he was curious about something.

“What is going on?” she whispered. “Something else is wrong. You just went incredibly pale.”

“Later,” I whispered back. There were far too many people around. No matter what it took, I planned to speak to each and every one of them. Yes, I’d made Kieran a promise. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get to know the fellow guests a bit better.

Someone was a killer, and we had to find them before they struck again.

EIGHT

That afternoon was another tasting of the Irish whiskeys the O’Sullivans made. Everyone was in attendance, except of course the priest and nun. The other guests kept asking questions of me, and each other. They were all curious about what might have happened to our religious guests.

We were seated around a large wooden bar in the corner of the distillery. A flight of whiskeys sat in front of us.

“I know there are people around, but you have got to tell me what is going on. I haven’t seen you this tense in months,” Lizzie said.

My sister knew me better than anyone else in the world, and she was my twin. There was no way I could hide any of this for much longer.

I shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed. “You will tell me what is happening when we get back to our room.”

One thing was certain, someone was determined to sabotage the opening weekend of the castle. But was it only to hurt the O’Sullivans? Or had the killer been after the priest and nun specifically? Or was it about something in the castle? I had fartoo many questions, and not one of the guests seemed to know them prior to the weekend.

“Today, we will be tasting some of our blends,” Gordon said. He was so passionate about his whiskeys. “The first is a classic Irish Buck with citrus.”

Whiskey and bourbons were my preferred drink, and everything we’d tasted so far was delicious. The Irish Buck was no exception.

He explained the process, but I watched the other guests around the bar.

Could one of them be a killer? I’d asked myself that same question so many times my head hurt. Or maybe it was all the whiskey.

Killers needed motives. So far, everyone I’d spoken with didn’t know the victims.

When the tasting was over, the other guests exited the distillery. Lolly and Brenna followed them out. But Lizzie, Rob, and Scott blocked the door.

“You need to tell us what is going on,” Lizzie said.

I glanced behind me. “I will, but not here. I swore to Kieran that I would keep things quiet.”

“From everyone else, maybe,” Scott said. “But not us. We already know about the priest. Is the nun dead as well?”

I nodded.

Lizzie gasped. “Really?”

“Mr. Poe and I found her in the pond this morning.” I went on to explain.

“I was so certain she was the one who killed the priest,” Scott said. He took off his cap and rubbed his bald head.

“Do they have any idea who is doing this?”

“Not a clue, I don’t think. They’re still sorting through all the forensics and doing background checks. We just need to keep our eyes open and travel in pairs, okay? Everyone be careful.”

“There is something I overheard from that accountant guy, Maximillian,” Rob said. “I heard him on the phone talking about a treasure.”

“What? Like a real treasure? Are you sure that is what you heard?”

---