Page 84 of A Secret Scottish Escape

“Do you think this woman night have been up at Coorie Cottage that time when the police were summoned?” I asked Danielle.

Danielle’s eyes grew wide. “I heard about that and I did mention it to Wendy.”

“And?”

Danielle flicked a loaded gaze at Faith and me. “Wendy said her new house guest was out till late on that Friday evening and came back looking all harassed. She remembered the date and the time because her brother-in-law rang to tell her that her sister had just given birth.”

Danielle beamed through her cinnamon freckles. “Her B&B is in Fallow Lane.”

I adjusted the strap of my bag and clanked the wooden counter shut behind me, “Oh, I know the place. Thanks. That’s great.”

Faith drew her red-slicked lips into a disapproving line.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.

Faith leaned her arms on the counter and appraised me with a twinkle. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Wendy’s bed and breakfast was situated only ten minutes’ walk away from the little cluster of shops and down a cobbled close. I left my car and hurried there on foot.

The glossy black front door was unlocked so I let myself in.

I dinged the gold bell on top of the reception desk and picked up on the subtle drone of bagpipes coming from two secreted speakers.

There was a squeak of an opening door from somewhere behind me and a well-groomed blonde lady appeared. “Can I help you?”

As she moved closer, her soft blue eyes narrowed, as if she were struggling to place me from somewhere.

I introduced myself and she confirmed she was Wendy Goodman and shook my hand. “Ah, Harry’s girl,” she smiled, “and how’s your music venue coming along? It’s not long till it opens?”

“That’s right. Yes, it’s been a lot of work, as I’m sure you can appreciate, but everyone has been so helpful. We open at the end of August.”

Wendy nodded approvingly. “Only a few weeks then. That’s good. Lord knows we need a new injection of something round here.”

“Business a bit slow?”

Wendy’s lips contorted. “If it gets any slower, it will come to a complete halt.”

I adjusted the strap of my fringed bag over my shoulder. “So, not many guests staying with you at the minute?”

“Two,” she sighed. “It’s hardly worth opening the dining room for breakfast.”

She pointed a lacquered nail over to the right, to a room where creamy tablecloths were spread out over several square tables.

“These guests,” I ventured, “do you mind me asking if one of them happens to be an Australian woman?”

Wendy blinked at me. “Yes, she is.”

I gazed over her shoulder and up the carpeted staircase. “I don’t suppose this lady happens to be in her room at the moment?”

Brief disappointment tugged at me when Wendy told me she had gone out straight after breakfast.

“Do you know how long she intends to stay for?”

“She hasn’t said, but I get the impression she isn’t in any hurry to leave.”

Wendy eyed me for a moment. “I’m sure you can appreciate, Layla, that it wouldn’t be right for me to give out details of my guests.”