Page 98 of A Scottish Highland Hideaway

It was at that moment that Mum knocked on my bedroom door and stuck her head round. Her face broke into an admiring smile. “Oh darling! You look beautiful!”

“Thanks, Mum. See? No dirt under my fingernails.”

She pulled a face. “I’m sure there isn’t.”

Then she gave a playful slap to her forehead. “Would you mind checking on that young lady Corrie for me before you come down?”

I started to make my way out of my room. “Of course. Is everything all right?”

“I hope so. She commented to one of the gents in overalls that she seemed to be having a bit of an issue with her shower.”

I clicked my door closed behind me. “She can use my bathroom if there’s a problem. I’ll go and tell her.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’d better head back down there just to check all’s ok, before I get ready myself.”

I arrived at Corrie’s door and knocked. There was no reply.

Over the banister, I could see people I didn’t recognise drifting around below in the Great Hall. There were chimes of laughter and glimpses of sparkles and satin.

I knocked on the door again then reached for the door handle but I didn’t need to turn it as the door swung open, making me jump. It hadn’t been closed properly. I blinked, not expecting that. I called out again. “Hello? Corrie? It’s Bailey. Are you there?”

I poked my head around the side of the door, but the room was empty. All I could hear was the hum of people below and cars arriving outside.

I edged my way in, noticing Corrie’s chequered coat lying on top of the satin bedspread and the outfit she’d arrived in draped across the gilt armchair in the corner. It was turning into a chilly, Highland Hogmanay night out there.

“Corrie?” Maybe she was still struggling with the shower in the en suite bathroom.

I knocked on the closed bathroom door, but there was no response. I clicked that open but she wasn’t in there either. Oh well. She must be downstairs somewhere and managed to use someone else’s bathroom.

I was about to leave and head downstairs, when something on the bed drew my attention. It was poking out from one of Corrie’s coat pockets and looked like a typed note, very similar to the one Ezra had received.

I approached the bed.

Glancing over my shoulder to make sure she wasn’t standing there; I reached for the piece of paper and eased it out of the pocket. It was a folded-up sheet of A4.

I focused on what it said.

Then gasped.

I wobbled in my heels.

It couldn’t be.

My eyes scanned the bold black capital letters on the note in disbelief. It said:

YOU ARE PUTTING YOUR DAUGHTERS IN DANGER. RETRACT CONTENTS OF YOUR BOOK. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED.

My head was racing. What was Corrie doing with a threatening note? It was identical to the last one Ezra received.

My breathing came out in a series of fast and furious gulps. Why did Corrie⁠—?

A dark thought erupted.

No.

My imagination was running riot. She wouldn’t have anything to do with this. She was part of Ezra’s management team.

I sank down on the corner of the bed. This didn’t make any sense.