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“Admit it, you love this,” Quoth said as he helped me into a seat at a nearby table.
“Okay, fine. I admit that I did really enjoy being right about who the murderer is.” I shuddered. “But I never, ever want to be poisoned by natural gas ever again.”
“I am also not a fan,” Morrie added. “If anyone’s air is cut off, it should only be for a kinky sex game—”
“I smell bacon.” My stomach grumbled as I sniffed the air. I could hear sounds from the kitchen of an early breakfast being rustled up. My mouth watered. It had to be like 3AM in the morning, but I was suddenly so starving.
“And black pudding.” Heathcliff’s voice rumbled with happiness.
“And those tiny sausages!” Morrie cried gleefully.
Quoth stroked my hand. “Can someone get our fiancée something to eat?”
Fiancée.
I held up my hand to the light, admiring the glittering stones and the twisted metal vine that held them together. In all the chaos, I’d almost forgotten that the guys proposed to me in the library.
And I accepted.
I, Mina Wilde, amateur sleuth, vampire slayer, bookshop co-owner, and blind girl about town, was officially engaged to the three most wonderful men in the world. Men who shouldn’t even exist outside of storybooks, but who found me when I needed them most and have proven time and time again that they will always, always have my back and bring me bacon.
I nuzzled my head into Quoth’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?”
“For doubting you.” I peered up at Morrie before settling my gaze on Heathcliff’s stormy features. “For suspecting you all of being murderers when really you were creating this romantic proposal for me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Heathcliff bent down and kissed me with surprising tenderness. “Morrie was right to laugh. When I think of the way we were acting, of course you would suspect us. From the night we found Ashley’s body in the shop, you’ve been learning to believe in the impossible and to question everything.”
“I feel awful. I should never have doubted you.”
“Gorgeous, let’s get this straight right now.” Morrie plonked down in the seat opposite me. He reached across the table and held my hands in his. “You had one thing right – Iwillknock the head off anyone who wrongs you.”
“Not if I get there first,” Heathcliff growled.
“We will doanythingto protect you, Mina. Anything. And so it doesn’t bother us that you thought we’d bumped Briston off. Honestly, we might’ve done it if you hadn’t asked us not to. He was an awful man and the publishing world is better off without him.”
“Hear, hear!” Vivianne cried as she set down a plate of food in front of me. “Hugh is gone forever and I’ve still got my publishing deal, so everything has worked out perfectly in the end. Eat up, my dear. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
* * *
We were halfway through our second heaping of bacon, hash browns, black pudding, eggs, tomatoes, and sausages when Donna staggered into the restaurant and announced that the mobile network was working again.
“Repair crews are up on the road. They must have fixed the issue with the tower,” she said. “I’ve just got off the phone with the police. They’re sending a car up here immediately to arrest Jonathan and remove Hugh’s body, as well as a rescue crew to clear the road.”
Everyone broke into loud applause.
“It’s been a crazy night, and I thank you all for your patience and understanding, and I hope that you won’t hold the events against Meddleworth or my staff. My team will be coming around with free spa vouchers for everyone. And Mina, thank you.” Donna reached down and clasped my hand. “You and your boyfriends saved my life. And without you, we would still be trapped in that dining room, blaming each other for the murder, when it was that wretch Jonathan all along.”
I tried to smile, but I was sure it came out as more than a grimace.
“I have to get back to work. There’s lots to do. Enjoy your breakfast.” Donna broke away from the group and I heard her on her mobile phone, giving an interview with the press while she used a second phone to snap pictures of the ravens and the hole in the wall for the ’gram. She got a second call, and when she heard it was the BBC, she actuallysquealedwith delight.
The woman was almost murdered because she stole Jonathan’s manuscript so she could make money off Meddleworth, and now here she was, trying to spin the story to raise the profile of the estate and spa.
Somehow, I doubted that Donna Bollstead had learned anything from the weekend’s events.
“Mina, I came by to wish you well. I’m off now. I’m going to help the rescue crew manage traffic on the road.” Charlie Doyle nodded to us as he passed our table. Beside me, Heathcliff stiffened, but I placed my hand over his.
