news and bad news. Can I offer you a beer to wash both down?”
Reid smiled at him and extended his hand. “Cam said I was going to like you.”
* * *
IT TOOK HALF a bottle of beer, but Reid was feeling more relaxed than he had all day. He and Daryl were seated at a table on the terrace outside the kitchen. Over Daryl’s shoulder, Reid could see the sun streaking the sky with pink as it sank closer to the lake. He’d been formally introduced to Alba, who’d sniffed his hand and then stretched out in a waning patch of sunlight and fallen asleep. Beyond her, through the glass of the terrace doors, he could see Vi and Nell chatting as they put together a meal.
“Vi roasted a chicken,” Daryl said. “I think that’s her version of killing the fatted calf.”
Reid raised a brow. “If that’s the good news, I’d rather it was related to the case.”
Daryl grinned at him. “Vi’s cooking is always good news. And she’s celebrating the fact that the last of the Sutherland boys has finally returned to the castle. She’s always thought of you three in a very special way, and since you’re the final triplet to come back, that gives you prodigal son status. Don’t knock it. As I recall, Cam got sandwiches, and Duncan had to grill his own steak.”
Reid laughed. “Do me a favor and pass the word along to Cam about the chicken. It will just reinforce my status as the favored eldest son. But now, tell me you have something on Gwendolen Campbell.”
“I do. Duncan forwarded me the text you sent him from the hospital, and once I had the name, it didn’t take long to ID her. She had her name changed legally to Campbell six months ago. Before that, she was Gwendolen Harris.”
“The name she used at the hospital when she was visiting Deanna Lewis.”
“Turns out it isn’t the only name she’s gone by. Gerald Harris, the fifth Earl of Bainbridge, was her third husband,” Daryl said. “He was twenty years her senior, and she inherited millions when he died.”
“Explains the expensive clothes and jewelry.”
“Husband number two, Martin Hatcher, wasn’t short on money, either. Marrying him got her United States citizenship and she got his money when he passed on.”
“Sounds like a pattern,” Reid said.
“The pattern of a good grifter. But there’s more. Husband number one was Douglas Lewis, and Deanna was just three years old when her widowed father married Gwen. Gwendolen’s maiden name was MacDonald, and she was Douglas Lewis’s second wife. That’s why we didn’t run across Gwendolen before this. Cam has discovered that she was born and raised in a village not twenty miles away from what remains of the Campbell estate in Scotland. He and Adair are looking into that end of it. But MacDonald isn’t one of the names that pops up on the Campbell family tree that your mother discovered.”
Reid took a swallow of his beer. “So this Gwendolen MacDonald Lewis Hatcher Harris is Deanna Lewis’s stepmother. That would explain the visits to the hospital and offers a reason why they might be working together. But the question remains. Who is the man, or woman, who tried to run Piper down earlier today and how does he—or she—fit into the family picture?”
“We don’t know yet. That’s the bad news. Duncan says his friend at the police department will send us a rendering of the police artist’s sketch of the hit-and-run driver as soon as it’s completed. Then I’ll give it to Sheriff Skinner, and he’ll show it to Edie at the diner.”
Reid grinned. “Edie is still running the diner?”
“She is, and besides serving up the best pancakes in upstate New York, she also provides better local information than the internet. If anyone who looks like this guy shows up, we’ll get the news. It’s her granddaughter Molly who’s getting married here on Saturday, so Edie is especially interested in seeing that everything runs smoothly.”
Reid sipped his beer. “Can we provide enough security for the wedding?”
“It’s very small, and everyone is local. It will be impossible for someone to slip in unnoticed. The only outsider who might be attending is a young reporter from the New York Times, the one who did the original article that helped launch Castle MacPherson as a prime wedding destination.”
“If you’re talking about James Orbison, he dropped by the hospital to check on Deanna Lewis,” Reid said.
“Sheriff Skinner told me. Last week Orbison dropped by to see him, and he also contacted Vi to arrange an interview tomorrow. He wants to shadow her for the day. I’ve done a background check, and he seems squeaky clean. He has a degree in journalism from Princeton. His uncle is a senior editor for the Sunday Times magazine section, and James started working for him right after graduation. We can meet him when he comes to interview Vi tomorrow.”
“I want to ask him why he decided to write the original article on the castle.”
Setting down his beer, Daryl said, “One more thing. Now that we know there’s a connection between Deanna and Gwendolen and something about who they are, I’ve put some old friends of mine on it—a couple retired agents who are over in England. They’re going to work with Cam and Adair.”
Reid met Daryl’s eyes. “They’re going to have to be fast. I’m not sure we have as much time as they’ve given us.”
“What do you mean?”
Reid glanced to his right where he could see Nell and Vi moving about the kitchen. “Nell has this idea that she and her sisters are somehow destined to find the Stuart sapphires.”
Daryl thought for a moment. “You think she’s right?”
“I favor more practical scenarios, but I can’t dismiss her idea,” Reid said. “It sure didn’t take Adair and Piper long to discover the two earrings once they returned to the castle. It was almost as if they’d been drawn to them like magnets. If Nell’s right, she could discover the necklace very soon. Then she’ll be disposable. If she doesn’t find it fast, Vi could be in danger. That means that we can’t let either of these women out of our sight, until we’ve got all the players behind bars.”
He gestured to the two women in the kitchen. “As Nell has pointed out to me several times today—the clock is ticking.”
“I hear you,” Daryl said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few weeks, it’s that things tend to move quickly here. I have one piece of advice to give you.”
Reid turned to meet the older man’s gaze.
Daryl smiled. “Beware of the legend. If you don’t intend to marry a MacPherson woman, don’t let her kiss you beneath the stones.”
I’M HOME, NELL thought as she trimmed the ends off string beans and added them to a pot of water. A few feet away, Aunt Vi took a roasting pan out of the oven and placed it on top of the stove to cool. The scent of the chicken and freshly baked scones surrounded her with comfort and a feeling of safety. She’d spent her childhood, her girlhood, her adolescence, in this room. On rainy days, she’d played Scrabble with her sisters
