Isabella gritted her teeth. Since the hotel was closed all of March and there were no guests, yes, Mrs. Aiken would need to do the cooking. Bella knew the cantankerous old woman would love being the boss of what she still considered “her” kitchen, but she also knew she’d have to coax her. Why oh why couldn’t Sara come when the place was staffed?
“Just three of them?” Mrs. Aiken asked. “And all Americans? I don’t know how to make pizza. Or those two-pound hamburgers.”
Bella refrained from rolling her eyes. Instead, she straightened her shoulders. “This weekend will be a full house. There will be seven guests in total. All but Sara will leave on Monday. Her two are going to tour the Highlands.”
“So what about her?” Mrs. Aiken asked. “What’s she going to do?”
“I assume you mean Sara. ‘She’ as you call her, can do anything she bloody well wants. But she’s staying here alone so she can write.”
“About what?” Mrs. Aiken snapped.
Bella had her hand on the doorframe. “I don’t know. She said she found some old story on the internet that everyone had forgotten about. Something about a couple of lovers who ran off together.” She stepped into the hallway.
“Wait!” Mrs. Aiken called, and Bella looked back into the kitchen. “You mean that girl and the man in the stables?” Her voice was hoarse.
“I guess so. That was before my time.”
“Who is coming?” Mrs. Aiken whispered.
This time Bella did roll her eyes. “I don’t remember their names. Sara said they were part of a club and had a party the night the couple ran away together.”
“Nadine, Byon, Clive and Willa,” Mrs. Aiken said softly. “They’re the only o
nes left.” Her face had drained of color.
Bella hadn’t thought of it, but Mrs. Aiken was probably there the night the couple ran off together. From Mrs. Aiken’s expression, Bella knew she should be sympathetic. But why was that so traumatic to her? “Yes, I think those are the names. Sara wants to talk to them. I think she wants to use the runaways as a plot for a book.” Bella sighed. “Since she retired from writing, that makes no sense. Maybe she’s just bored. Whatever the reason, they’ll need food. Can you do it? If not, I’ll hire a caterer.”
Mrs. Aiken seemed incapable of speaking, but her nod was good enough for Bella. In a few minutes, six girls were coming to clean and she needed to oversee their work. She quickly walked down the hall. “Deliver me from drama,” she said, then hurried to answer the bell on the front door.
In the kitchen, Puck was still in the pantry, unseen by anyone. She watched her mother as she tried to put the sliced carrots into the pot. But her hands were shaking too badly. She dropped the carrots onto the floor, then went out the back door.
Puck slipped out of the pantry, went through the house, then outside. She hurried to her own house and grabbed her laptop. She wanted to find out who this Sara Medlar was. Thirty minutes later, she leaned back in her chair, her heart pounding in her throat. She’d read through all the hype: sixty million books in print, years on the New York Times Bestseller List, etc. That meant nothing to her.
What mattered was a small article in the Miami Sun Sentinel. A reporter said it was strongly rumored that Sara Medlar, along with her niece and her “almost grandson” had solved two old murders. “Murders that others dismissed,” the reporter wrote.
When the Morris women were brutally murdered, people cared so little no one even noticed they were missing. They were Forgotten Murders. The police deny it, but the scuttlebutt is that the Medlar trio solved the case.
Puck stared at the screen. It was the same with Sean. Everyone had forgotten about him. And what about Diana? Was her body in that odious pit with Sean’s and she’d missed it?
She made herself a mug of tea and sat back down. She hadn’t kept up with the others who’d been in Nicky’s group. After that horrible night, she’d never wanted to see any of them again. But now she was wondering what had become of them.
She spent the rest of the day researching and reading.
Two
“What do you think she’s up to?” Jack asked.
They were on an overnight flight to London, first class courtesy of Sara. Kate and Jack were in the center, each with a seat that made into a bed, while Sara was across the aisle. Their TVs were turned off.
“Are you asking if I believe Aunt Sara just wants a vacation and that she’s actually thinking of writing another romance?”
Jack gave a one-sided smile. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.” He waited for her answer.
“It’s a mystery.”
He chuckled at the double entendre: a mystery as to why and possibly a mystery to be solved.
Kate changed the subject. “Was Gil okay taking over your business?”