Murder Takes the High Road(31)



I considered what he’d said. “Hell, we can answer this right now.” I grabbed my phone, ignoring a string of texts—featuring increasing numbers of exclamation points—from Trevor, and clicked on the internet. I typed Death at Ben Wyvis Manor House Hotel, Strathpeffer.

No results.

I typed Death in Strathpeffer, and got four innocuous reports of Ross and Cromarty passings, all of them perfectly natural and none of them appearing in any way connected to the hotel or Tours to Die For. In fact, not only had nobody died at the Ben Wyvis Manor House Hotel, not many people died in Strathpeffer at all during the past couple of years.

“This really is a health resort,” I muttered. I typed mysterious death Tours to Die For.

No results.

“I’m surprised more people haven’t died in this death trap,” John commented. He sounded quite cheerful about it.

“It’s not that bad.”

“It actually is. Between the antique wiring and the vintage plumbing—and don’t get me started on the stairs.”

I ignored him. No variation on my searches got any useful results, although a couple of stories did link Tours to Die For with Vanessa’s role in Donald Kresley’s murder.

I tried Rumors re Tours to Die For.

That search got ugly fast. A lot of people had opinions about Vanessa’s past, and were not shy about anonymously sharing them—obscenities and death threats included.

“There’s nothing here,” I said. “Which, come to think of it, is interesting in itself because Alison already admitted there was a death on the last trip.”

John didn’t answer. I realized he was listening to the muffled sounds of official activity next door.

My stomach did an unhappy flop. This wasn’t academic. Poor Rose was dead. Natural causes or not, it was sad.

“We should get dressed and get downstairs,” he said. “We may as well hear the official version.”

I nodded and rose.

We took turns in the tiny bathroom. John finished getting ready before I did and headed downstairs ahead of me. When I reached the dining room a few minutes later, I discovered that our group had been moved to the breakfast room, possibly out of respect for our grief.

I walked in as Alison was announcing, “By now most of you have heard the sad news that Rose Lane passed away during the night.”

It seemed she was wrong about that because a shocked ripple passed through the group. There were murmurs of dismay and distress.

I slipped into an empty seat behind Ben and Yvonne.

“Good God,” Yvonne muttered. “How bizarre.”

“She had a number of health issues, but her passing appears to have been quite peaceful, quite painless,” Alison reassured us.

“If you have to go, that’s the way,” Wally said. “She was sure having a great time last night.”

“Yes! Exactly,” Alison said. “Rose was doing what she loved to do right up until the end. And I know that’s what she would wish for the rest of us. Fortunately, we were spending the day in Strathpeffer anyway, so none of you should be unduly impacted by this sad occurrence. However, as I’m going to be tied up making arrangements this morning, instead of having a free afternoon, all of today will be free for you to do whatever you choose.”

“There should be some sort of refund, if that’s the case,” said Guess Who.

“Mother,” Ben said quietly. It was the closest he’d yet come to criticizing her.

“It’s true,” Yvonne insisted.

A few people threw her disapproving looks, but she met them defiantly.

Alison rattled on, unaware of Yvonne’s comments. “You’ll find there are lots of things to do and see in Strathpeffer. We mentioned the Pump Room yesterday, and that’s probably the best-known tourist attraction in the area, but most of you will be familiar with the Touchstone Maze from Vanessa’s work. And of course, Blackmuir Woods.”

A little collective shiver went through the gathering as we recalled the grisly events of Blackmuir Woods.

“There’s also the Highland Museum of Childhood which is housed in the former train station. Oh, and if you’re in a less criminal frame of mind, Celtic Spirits Limited offers both whiskey and gin tasting.”

“What about the ghost walk?” Bertie piped up. “Are we still doing the ghost walk tonight?”

“That would be creepy.” Edie shuddered. “What if R—”

She cut herself off, and the silence that followed had an awkward reverberation.

Alison said briskly, “Again, I believe Rose would have wanted us to carry on with our regularly scheduled program. But naturally all activities are optional, so if anyone feels uncomfortable or would prefer not to take part in any given event, please feel free to opt out.”

“As a matter of fact,” Wilma Scherf said, “we were thinking of renting a car this morning and doing some sightseeing on our own.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Alison said. “We realize this is a shock and a disappointment to everyone. Vanessa and all of us at Tours to Die For want you to do whatever will make you most comfortable today. If you prefer to stay in and rest, that’s fine too. The dinner meal will be at the regular time, and to that end, here’s tonight’s menu. If you could all make your selections and hand them in...”

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