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“But…but…I can’t be trapped here with a murderer.” Vivianne made a rush for the doors, but Jonathan stepped in front of her.
“I’m afraid that none of you will be allowed to move freely in the castle,” he said. “You see, this room was locked from the inside by Donna’s key. This is the only way into and out of the room. Which means that one of you is the murderer, and it’s my job to make sure you don’t hurt no one else.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
“Mina!”
I glanced up from my chair in the private dining room at the sound of the familiar voice. A willowy figure darted through the gloom. Two strong arms wrapped around me, and a vanilla and grapefruit scent tinged with expensive massage oils invaded my nostrils.
“Morrie.” I buried my nose into his fluffy robe.Is he wandering around the castle in the middle of a thunderstorm, with a murderer on the loose, wearing nothing but his spa robe? That’s very on-brand. “It was horrible.”
“It’s okay now, gorgeous. I’ve got you.”
“Sir, if ye want to be with her, ye won’t be allowed to leave this room,” Jonathan said as he stood near the door. “Mina is a suspect.”
“I understand.” Morrie squeezed my hand. “If you need any help running security, let me know. This lot look like the kind of feral psychopaths who would gnaw their own arms off just to use their arm stump to club a fellow author to death.”
“Excuseme, young man,” Vivianne snapped. “I won’t be gnawing anything except Donna’s head in court after I sue her for keeping me forcibly detained.”
Morrie grinned innocently and held me tighter.
Beside me, Donna stoked the fire to life in the small, private dining room, which Jonathan had decided would serve as our makeshift jail cell. Christina, Killian, Charlie, and Vivianne all sat around the antique oak table, glaring at each other with unbridled suspicion. Firelight flickered over photographs on the walls – scenes from previous writers’ retreats and raucous literary galas hosted by Donna’s parents.
The hotel’s other guests were being roused from their rooms to gather in the restaurant, where the staff was serving supper. A delicious scent of hot chocolate, steaming soup, and warm, sliced bread that was supposed to be for tomorrow’s breakfast wafted through the air. My stomach rumbled, but I didn’t know if we’d get to share in the joy.
After all, one person in this room was a murderer.
Murderers didn’t deserve hot chocolate.
“I came running as soon as the lights went out,” Morrie squeezed me tighter. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I shuddered. “But it was awful. I was sitting right across from Hugh, and then we got up to try the door, and…he was attacked. It was pitch black. I didn’t see anything.”
I can’t believe someone was murdered right under my nose and I didn’t even hear it.
“But we all know that seeing isn’t everything.” Morrie’s long fingers slipped effortlessly into mine. “You must have other impressions.”
I thought back to the chaos of the blackout. Everyone was talking and moving around at once. The storm and the bickering were so loud that I couldn’t recall any other noises that seemed out of place. I did remember someone brushing past me when we all got up to go to the doorway, heading in the opposite direction. But it could have been any one of the writers trying to move around the space.
I shook my head. “No noises that I could associate with his actual murder. I was holding Christina’s hand when we moved across the room, so I don’t think it was her, but…when I think about it, the last time I heard him speak was right before the lights went out, so it could have been anyone, before we moved away to the door.” I shook my head. “But we’re not solving this murder, so it’s a moot point.”
“We’re not?” Morrie leaned in, his voice hinting at mischief.
“We’renot,” I said firmly. “I’m a suspect. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Why, Mina Wilde, you shock me. As if you’ve ever cared about propriety.” Morrie lowered his voice. “You certainly didn’t care about propriety when I had my cock buried in your a—”
“I’mserious. We’re going to sit here in this room and wait for the police to come.”
“You can’t stay out of this. I can see your mind working. You’re already trying to figure out who had a motive to kill Hugh.”
“I am not.” My face flushed with heat. “I mean, obviously Christina, and Killian, and I guess Vivianne, too—”
“Mina? Mina’s okay?” Quoth’s worried voice reached us. I glanced toward the door just as he ran over and threw his arms around me.
“She shouldn’t be allowed all those men in here. I don’t want the one in the suit, or the oafish one, anywhere near me,” Charlie cut in. “After all, they probably killed Hugh.”
“As much as I’d like to claim credit for such a public service,” Morrie said, “it’s awfully difficult to kill someone from behind a locked door.”
