Page 3 of Death at Inishmore Castle

“A priest and a nun?” I asked. “It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.”

He laughed. “I guess they like their whiskey as well. We met them when we were coming in earlier. He’s a bit stand-offish, and she was quiet. Rob and I suspect they didn’t like us much.”

“Then they are silly because you two are some of the best humans we’ve ever met,” I said. I couldn’t stand any sort of prejudice. Rob and Scott were the most adorable couple and had become some of our best friends in Ireland. They were give-the-shirt-off-their-backs kind of people. We loved them.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “One of the many reasons we adore you both. I’ll see you down there.”

After we freshened up, it took a couple of minutes and two wrong turns to find the dining room.

Okay, Mr. Poe helped. All I had to say was, “Find the food.” He led us straight to the dining room.

Our neighbors were lined up at a buffet and waved us in. After some quick hugs, we grabbed our food, which consisted of boxty, which was part potato and part bread, and coddle, which was like a sausage stew with even more potatoes. The latter wasn’t the best-looking dish, but it had a wonderful taste.

We all sat down at the huge gothic-styled dining table. There were dragon heads on the chairbacks, and the table was ornately carved as well. Artwork that had to be several hundred years old covered the walls. There was a mix of portraits and sea vessels, along with landscapes.

I didn’t miss that the priest and the nun sat as far away from us as possible and seemed to be having a tense conversation if their faces were any indication.

His black hair appeared as if he dyed it, and he had beady dark-brown eyes. There was something about him that seemed off.

And I’d never seen a nun who wore makeup.

“How’s the writing going?” Brenna asked.

I rolled my eyes.

She laughed. “That good?”

“It is slow, which is why I decided to come along when Lizzie asked. A four-day weekend away from my computer sounded like a good idea. How was your shoot in Portugal?” She normally did business trade photography, but every once in a while, she’d book a job at some exotic locale. She was extremely talented.

“Magical. I know I’m thirty or more years from retirement, but I think it might be on my list. It was beautiful and the people were lovely.”

“That’s one of our places to visit,” Lizzie said. “We’ve decided that once every few months we’ll take a week, or at least a long weekend, to travel to places on our bucket list.”

“By we, Lizzie means she, but I think it’s a great idea,” I said.

My sister bumped my shoulder. “You didn’t fight me very hard on it.”

Everyone smiled.

“Yes, because traveling to destinations we’ve dreamed about is such a drag.”

“Why don’t you introduce yourselves?” Lolly said to the other guests who sat near us.

There was a woman who looked to be in her twenties and was dressed from head to toe in khaki. “I’m Fiona,” she said. “I’m a birder. I’m here for the wildlife and the whiskey.” She winked and then laughed.

We joined her.

“We’re Sally and Alex Airendale,” a woman said. Her hair was in a perfect chignon and she wore diamonds around herneck and in her ears. “As you might notice from the accents, we’re from America.”

“How did you end up here?” Lolly asked. She was never shy with the questions and usually asked what we all wanted to.

“Business, for my husband,” she said.

He nodded beside her.

“But I came along because who doesn’t want to visit a castle?”

“And you?” Lolly said to a gentleman on the other side of the table.

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