Page 44 of Death at Inishmore Castle

“They are,” I said.

“The food overall has been so much better than I expected. I mean, I thought they might serve lamb at every meal or something. But have you had the blueberry scones? They are so good. I’ve given up on watching my figure. I’ll just do more steps when I get home.”

Her husband, who was sitting next to her, wore a sweater vest over a blue button-down with jeans. Even if Sally weren’t wearing what had to be a five-carat wedding ring, possibly larger, they would have exuded wealth.

“I have to agree. Visitors won’t go hungry during their stay.”

“By the way,” she said, “we both love your books. I couldn’t believe you were here at the castle. We thought you lived in New York or somewhere else in America. Are you here for research? Is the next book set in a castle?”

“I did live in America for a long time. We just recently made the move to Ireland,” I said.

“I can’t blame you. This place is gorgeous. Do you live nearby?”

Even though there had been a bit of press about me living in Shamrock Cove during a book event a few months ago, I didn’t necessarily like sharing the fact.

“We do. And where are you two from?”

“Tennessee,” she said with a drawl. “Just outside of Memphis, that’s where our company is.”

“And what is it you do?” I played dumb. I’d read about them when I’d peeked into the files Kieran had compiled.

“I distribute fine liquors all over the United States,” Alex said. “We’re looking at expanding internationally, though.”

“What brought you to the castle?”

“We’ve been talking to Gordon about possibly importing his Irish whiskey. It’s a luxury brand, which fits with our business model.”

“Oh?” I knew nothing about that business. Though I was a big fan of whiskey. The tasting tours had been the best part of this trip so far. “Is it tough getting permissions when things come from overseas?”

“Not for my brilliant husband,” Sally said as she reached over and patted her husband’s hand. She appeared genuinely proud of him. “He has distribution channels already set up all over the world to bring spirits to America. Now, he can use those same channels to open up worldwide distribution for the whiskey.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, darling,” he said. “She’s right though. We’re hoping we can use those same distribution avenues to increase our international sales and import the O’Sullivans’ whiskey.”

“So, how long have you known the O’Sullivans?”

She glanced at her husband. “I don’t know. How long have you been talking to him, dear?”

He rubbed his chin. “Well over a year, I think. He wasn’t keen on overseas sales at first, but a place like this takes a bundle to run, and we’re offering him a good share of the profits if he agrees to our deal. He invited us out here so we could understand the history of the place. My Sally loves traveling, art, and antiquities. This place is quite something.”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

They appeared to be exactly what they said. And since they’d come over from America, how would they even know the priest and nun?

Just then, there was a bustling at the door, and Nora came in looking tired and a bit unkempt. Her normally flawless white hair was in a messy bun, and her clothes appeared as though she had slept in them.

“Good morning,” she said. “I wanted to check in and make sure everyone is doing okay.” She sounded a bit nervous.

“We’re fine,” Lolly said. “How is that husband of yours?”

Nora gave her a tight smile. “Hard-headed as ever. He’s supposed be resting after his, uh, fall.” She stuttered over the words. “But he insisted on checking on the new lambs this morning. He refuses to do what he’s told.”

“I’m glad he’s okay,” I said. “I heard through the grapevine that he had a head injury and that can be scary.” Okay, I didn’t hear it from the grapevine, but I was trying to throw attention away from me and my sister. Just in case the killer might be in the room.

Nora gave a tight nod. I had a feeling she’d been instructed by Kieran not to say anything about the night before. I glanced around suspiciously at everyone. Maximillian, Fiona, and the Airendales were all in attendance. But they all appeared to be nothing but concerned.

“As I’ve said since the day we met, he has a hard head. I wanted to let you know that we are back on schedule, and the trip through the gardens will begin at ten thirty. The clootie dumpling class is after lunch. The third whiskey tasting, however, will be after tomorrow’s lunch. We are sorry to reschedule, but I didn’t want to stress my Gordon any more than necessary. Not that he’s listening to me.” She rolled her eyes. “I thank you for your patience.”

“Any word on the nun who was here?” the accountant, Maximillian, asked. It seemed odd, coming from him, but I suppose all the guests had to be curious.

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