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“It was work,” Logan said firmly.
“Oh, I hope you didn’t tell her that,” his mother said. “Women don’t like to hear that sort of thing.”
It was official. He’d lost control of the conversation.
“So,” Darcy said, “when can we meet her?”
“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he tried again, but it was pointless. And he wasn’t about to humiliate himself by admitting that she’d shut him down cold after the world’s most perfect kiss. “This is work. Nothing more. You can get any other ideas out of your head.”
“He’s seeing her again tonight.” His mum stirred further. “They’re going on a stakeout together.”
“No. We’re not. Agnes is up to something, and I’m watching her. There’s no together.” It was like explaining physics to toddlers.
“Agnes?” Darcy said. “Is that her name? It’s lovely.”
Logan groaned.
“Come on, Dad,” Drew said, obviously happy he was no longer the center of attention. “You haven’t had a proper girlfriend since Mum left, so it’s about time. But we should definitely get a veto. After all, we are talking about a possible stepmother here.”
Logan glared at him. “Do you want to go to Fort William on Saturday or not?”
“I take it back,” Drew said. “It’s totally a work relationship. There’s nothing to see here. Moving on…”
Logan nodded, satisfied that someone got the message. Then he saw Darcy’s excited face.
“I’ve always wanted a stepmother,” she gushed. “I’m sure the movies get it wrong—they can’t all be evil.”
Logan just shook his head as everyone, except his bewildered father, laughed.
Chapter 8
It had taken some doing, but Agnes had turned her hotel room into command central. Using her room’s TV, the computer screen from her office, her tablet, and her cell phone, she’d managed to send the signal from each of the cameras they’d set up to different screens. Now she could watch every camera view at the same time. Like an evil mastermind. Or a gamer getting ready for a marathon session.
There were plenty of snacks and high caffeine drinks stuffed into the mini-fridge. Blankets were draped over the curtains to ensure that anyone outside the hotel would think she was asleep or her room was empty. She’d placed a rolled-up towel at the bottom of her door, to stop any light leaking out, and stuck a Post-it Note over the spy hole to stop light escaping there. To the world, she was asleep. As she normally would have been at past midnight. But instead, she was holed up in her bat cave, jacked up on caffeine and sugar.
The pub had closed an hour earlier, the staff leaving not long after that. Dougal had been last to go, his dog following close behind. The alarms were set, and the guests were asleep. All she had to do now was wait. Pen poised, ready to note anything suspicious for follow up later, she sat and ate her way through a family-sized bag of Maltesers as she watched the feeds from the security cameras.
It was like watching paint dry.
After fifteen minutes, her eyelids began to droop. She jerked up straight, gave herself a shake, and popped another can of Red Bull.
“Focus,” Agnes muttered to herself. “This is important. Your career depends on it. You already have a bad rep in the hotel industry. You don’t want to get fired from your first job because your boss suspects you’re a thief. Find the real thief. Do a victory dance. Rule the world. You can do this!”
All she needed to do was get into a rhythm. Sitting on the end of the bed, facing the screens on the dresser in front of her, Agnes worked from left to right. The TV showed a split view from the two hall cameras on the ground floor. The halls were empty. Her desktop computer monitor showed another split view of the first-floor hallway and the store cupboard door. Again, nothing. Her tablet showed a view of the hallway outside her room, with, the main guest rooms on the first floor visible on her cell phone. Her eyes flicked back to the TV, and then she went through the whole routine again…and again…and again…and ag…
When a knock at the door jerked her awake, she realized she’d fallen asleep at some point and was now lying on the bed, her pen still clutched in her hand. Bleary-eyed, she sat up, and a glance at the tablet showing the view outside her room made her heart sink—Logan.
“I know you’re in there, and I know you aren’t asleep. Open up.”
How could he know that? He couldn’t possibly. It was a bluff.
“Go away. I’m asleep,” she called.
“You’re watching the security camera feeds. I have the same app, and I can see they’re all being accessed, which means you’re awake.”
A curse on his detective skills. With a grumble, she crossed the room and threw open her door.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night, anyway? I told you I’d call if anything came up.” Was it still the middle of the night? What time was it? How long had she been asleep? Agnes glanced back into the room, but the bedside clock was at the wrong angle so she couldn’t see its face, and as there were no windows in the hallway, she couldn’t go by the sun either.
