Page 58 of Highland Getaway
‘No, not The Who; I said it’s the Village People.That’sthe seventies rock band the angry mob reminded me of earlier. You know, they had, like, a cop, and a cowboy, and stuff? Well, this lot has a witch, a farmer, a .?.?. I’m sorry,’ she adds, looking at Callum apologetically. ‘I don’t know what you’re supposed to be. I really like it, though.’
Callum turns so red his tattoos almost disappear.
‘To come back to the discussion in hand,’ says Ian. ‘We would really like to speak to the Laird.’
‘Well, you can’t,’ says Hunter bluntly. ‘I already told you, he doesn’t accept visitors.’
‘He accepts visits from Dante,’ says Izzie unexpectedly. ‘I had tea with his mother last week – Dante’s, I mean, not the Laird’s – and she told me Dante and the Laird were as thick as thieves. Dante’s his right-hand man, apparently. Well, according to his mum, anyway.’
Two bright spots of colour appear on Dante’s high cheekbones, giving him an almost human appearance.
‘I wouldn’t saythat,’ he begins, but Ian interrupts, obviously wanting to get this meeting back on track.
‘What if we put our request in writing?’ he suggests. ‘Would that work? Then maybe Dante here could make sure he gets it?’
Dante looks like he’s about to say no to this, but then Izzie catches his eye.
‘I suppose I could take him a note,’ he says reluctantly. ‘I can’t promise he’ll read it, though. He’s not exactly the easiest person to deal with.’
‘OK,’ says Izzie briskly, wiping her hands on her skirt. ‘That’s settled. We’ll hold off on the curse for now, until we can get a letter together outlining our complaints. I think we can give you twenty-four hours; maybe forty-eight.’
‘Is this how curses always work, then?’ asks Zara, raising her eyebrows.
‘No, I normally go straight in with a curse, personally,’ says Izzie. ‘So they don’t see it coming. I never let my enemies know rest.’
‘Neither do I,’ agrees Yasmin.
Everyone starts getting to their feet, Izzie and Ian squabbling among themselves over who should get the last piece of toast from the rack that came with breakfast, and the influencers chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip to the fair, my drama with the dirk already forgotten.
‘Wait,’ I say, raising my voice above the chatter, even as my nerves threaten to stop me. ‘We didn’t really talk about the goings-on, and what to do about them. Don’t you think that’s important? Someone put a dirk in my room – what if it happens again?’
But no one hears me; and, before long, the room’s starting to empty out, everyone making their way to the door, the mysterious goings-on at the Chrysalis resort completely forgotten.
‘You know what?’ says Millie, distractedly, as the door swings closed behind them all. ‘I actually think it was Fleetwood Mac they reminded me of .?.?.’
Chapter 23
Hunter’s waiting for me outside the library as everyone leaves.
‘Do you really think that was the best idea, bringing up the “goings-on”?’ he says, using his fingers to make scare-quotes around the words.
‘Yes. Yes, I do actually,’ I reply, pulling my shoulders back. ‘I should have mentioned it ages ago, really. I don’t know why I didn’t.’
Idoknow actually, and it’s exactly as Yasmin said: it was because I was convinced one of them might be involved. Which still might be the case.
‘I told you I would handle it, Rosie,’ Hunter says. ‘I told you I’d speak to Dante today, and we’d do our best to figure it out. But now you’ve taken it upon yourself to tell everybody someone’s sneaking around trying to scare off the guests, which means—’
‘Whoever’s behind it will know we’re onto them, and have the chance to cover their tracks,’ I interject, slapping a hand over my mouth. ‘God, I didn’t even think of that.’
‘Whichmeans,’ Hunter goes on pointedly, ‘that you’ve just told a group of influencers about strange goings-on in the hotel. Do you really think you can trust them to keep that to themselves? Because, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think many people are going to want to stay in a hotel where they might find a stabbed turnip in their bed, are they?’
‘Um, maybe?’ I reply. ‘If they like mysteries, possibly? Or . . . turnips? OK, OK, no,’ I groan, covering my face with my hands. ‘No, of course they won’t. I didn’t think of that, either. I don’t think any of the influencers will try to publicise that, um,aspectof the hotel, though,’ I add, brightening. ‘They all still want to win the competition, so it would be pretty stupid of them to do anything to make the hotel look bad.’
Like I keep doing, for instance.
Hunter watches me silently for a moment.
‘Well, I hope you’re right, Rosie,’ he says, clearly unconvinced.
