Death at Castle Wolf (Golden Murder Mysteries Book 3) by Anna Penrose

Author:Anna Penrose [Penrose, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mudlark's Press
Published: 2024-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

When she came downstairs, there was no sign of Jacques. Lunch wasn’t ready, and Malachite Peck found herself in a dangerous situation; she had unanswered questions and time on her hands.

Grabbing a coat, she opened the front door and went off in search of answers.

Although it was raining heavily, the wind had finally died down, but looking out to sea, Mal could see the police wouldn’t be coming by boat yet. Heading along the main track between the castle and the wildlife centre, Mal hunched herself up against the rain and wondered why Tinks was so keen to get Ferne to remain silent. Only a few people knew Francine was murdered, so why was Tinks so keen to keep their relationship secret? Was she protecting Ferne or herself? If Tinks had killed Francine, then Ferne was the perfect fall guy. But why would Tinks kill Francine? Mal tutted. Instead of answers, each question just exploded into more; a fungal bloom of confusion.

Ahead of her, she could see the wildlife observation centre and quickened her pace. She thought the girls would all close ranks. And she was curious about Jordan; who had he been with last night, and what was he involved in with Wulf? If she couldn’t investigate who killed Francine, she could at least see what Wulf was up to.

Banging on the door to the wildlife centre, she opened it up and walked in. The door opened into a boot room with various ropes and coats hanging above rows of wellies and walking boots. There was another wooden door. Repeating herself, she knocked and entered. This was a much larger room with a stove to the side, some sofas, a long table, and a rudimentary kitchen. A rough breeze disturbed the papers on the table and Mal wondered if a door was open around the other side. There were no voices within, so she called out. A minute later, a tall woman popped her head out from behind a door. In her hand, she was holding a bucket, and Mal noted her knuckles were red and her skin was calloused. She was wearing a fleece top over utility trousers and walking boots, and Mal recognised her as the deputy manager she had met earlier back at the castle. She stared at Mal in surprise.

‘Oh, hello again. We’re not doing tours today.’

She spoke sharply and frowned at Mal.

‘No, of course not,’ said Mal quickly. ‘I just thought I would volunteer. I can’t imagine how much there must be to do, and what with Dougie being involved with the body, I thought you might be short-staffed.’

The other woman relaxed and nodded.

‘Short-staffed doesn’t even begin to cover it. We’re down four members of staff this season.’ She sighed deeply, then waved her through. ‘I could use a hand! Come on.’

Mal followed her into another room to a scene of chaos. Rain and daylight were pouring in from a hole in the roof, soaking the computers below. The walls were lined with Admiralty charts, but many of these were flapping about in the breeze.

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