Page 45 of Death at Inishmore Castle

All of the color ran from Nora’s face.

“She is still indisposed,” Kieran said from behind Nora. Then he came into the room and loaded a plate with food. Some of his men followed suit, as did Sheila. They sat together at the other end of the table.

“I hope she’s okay,” Sally said. “Poor woman.”

“Probably can’t handle her whiskey,” her husband said under his breath.

She shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t be rude. She is a nun.”

Is a nun. She used present tense, which maybe meant she really had no idea what had happened to Sister Sarah, or whoever she was. I couldn’t see why this couple from the States might want to kill a nun, and I put them lower on my very short list.

Still on my list alongside the staff and guests were the O’Sullivans, as they could have staged the attack on Gordon. Though, I was at war with that because why would they cause themselves so much notoriety on opening weekend? Still, they knew this place better than anyone else.

“Are you still doing the art history tour?” Sally asked. “You have so many fabulous pieces around the house. I can’t wait to hear all about them.”

“Yes, first thing tomorrow,” Nora said. She blinked as if she’d perhaps forgotten that fact. “I don’t have the schedule with me, but I believe after breakfast. Except for the change with the third tasting tour, everything else will remain the same.

“I’ll be back to check on you soon,” Nora stammered and then took off down the hall as if she couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Art history? I missed that in the pamphlet,” I said.

“This place is like a museum,” Sally said. “I wonder if they even know what they have.”

“My wife likes art and shiny things. Sometimes a bit too much.” Alex gave her a look that spoke volumes, but I didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

She shoved him again. “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s right, though. So far, I’ve seen original Turners and several French impressionists. There’s even a Jack Butler Yeats piece.And those are just the ones I’ve noticed. Who knows what else might be hanging around here? They have a small fortune on the walls.”

She seemed quite knowledgeable about the art here for someone from Tennessee.

I’m a snob.

I’d encountered that sort of snobbery when I first moved to New York. People there automatically deducted IQ points if one was from anywhere but New York. I’d never had much of a Texas accent, but as soon as people found out where I was from, they looked down on me. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way things were.

But when I’d made a remark to Gordon about the artwork, he said it wasn’t what it seemed. I’d assumed they were all fakes. I mean, I still did. They could have sold one of those paintings if they’d been real and covered their expenses for years.

“I had no idea,” I said. I didn’t think it was my business to bring up they might be fakes. “I know about the portraitist John Butler Yeats, and, of course, W.B. Yeats. The latter won a Nobel Prize in Literature.” I too had done a bit of research since we’d arrived in Ireland. It had a rich history, if a bloody one.

Well, I didn’t know a single country that didn’t have its share of bloodshed.

“Right,” she said. “But the poet’s brother, Jack, was an incredible artist. He was also an Olympic medalist. It was when the Olympics still had art and literature involved in the games. He won a silver medal for one of his paintings. It was the first medal for Ireland, I think. I read about it when we were coming over on the jet.”

They had their own jet? They were obviously doing quite well for themselves.

“Interesting. I learn something new every day.” I had no idea about the fine arts being a part of the Olympics. I always thoughtit was about the sports. I was a fan of gymnastics in the summer games and snowboarding and skiing during the winter ones. My sister liked the ice skating, but for some reason, watching people dance on blades made me nervous.

She smiled. “I might have done a lot of research before we arrived. It has more to do with my OCD than anything. I don’t like surprises. So, when we go somewhere, I want to know everything about it.

“That and our daughter is an art history major in college. I study up so we can talk about things when she is home. She wanted to come with us, but she’s doing an internship at the Met. We’re so proud of her.”

“I love the Met,” I said. “I used to hang out there a lot for inspiration and I saw something new every time I went.”

“Oh, she is in heaven.”

“She should be. Her expenses are costing us an arm and leg,” Alex Airendale said.

“Stop it.” Sally pointed a finger at her husband. “You’re just as proud as I am. You always like to make a fuss about money.”

They seemed so normal. Wealthy, but at least they cared about their kid. That wasn’t always the case.

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