Four Puddings and a Funeral (Oxford Tearoom Mysteries ~ Book 6) by H.Y. Hanna

Author:H.Y. Hanna [Hanna, H.Y.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Wisheart Press
Published: 2017-03-29T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Cotswolds Manor Hotel was the kind of genteel country resort where wealthy executives went for golf retreats and their pampered wives and daughters enjoyed spa weekends. At this time of the night, it was quiet, with most of the middle-aged guests already tucked up in bed and the rest having a quiet drink in the lobby lounge bar.

I pulled into the car park around the side of the main building, which was overlooked by the cheaper guest rooms. As I walked from the car towards the front entrance of the hotel, I was astonished to hear my name being called from somewhere above my head.

“Psst! Gemma!”

I stopped and looked up. From the second floor upwards, each of the rooms on this side had a balcony terrace with outdoor seating and a little table. In the one directly above my head, I could see four small figures huddled together. The Old Biddies!

I had thought that Mabel was joking when she said they were on a balcony. I sighed. I guess not.

“What on earth are you doing up there?” I demanded.

“Never mind that now,” said Mabel. “You need to help us. We’re stuck on this balcony.”

“Can’t you just go back in the room?”

“We’re locked out,” Glenda supplied helpfully.

“Well, I suppose I can go to Reception and ask them for help, although I don’t know why you couldn’t have just called them yourselves—”

“No, no! You can’t do that!” said Mabel. “The hotel reception doesn’t know that we’re here.”

I stared at her. “What do you mean they don’t know?”

“We’re undercover!” said Florence proudly.

“You’re what? Look, you need to tell me what’s going on—”

“Really, Gemma, if we knew you were just going to come and ask us a lot of silly questions, we wouldn’t have called you,” said Mabel. “We thought you would be more resourceful than that. But if you can’t figure out a way, I suppose we’ll have to think of something ourselves.”

“Do you think it’s too far to jump?” asked Ethel, peering over the edge of the balcony.

“No, no, don’t even think of doing that!” I cried, visions of four little old ladies landing in a heap of broken bones filling my head. I took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll try and think of something. Just… wait there for me and don’t do anything crazy, please?”

I started to hurry away, then remembered something and turned back. “By the way, which room is it?”

“Room 208. Tyler Lee’s room.”

I gaped at her. “What? What were you doing in Tyler Lee’s room?”

“There’s no time to explain now,” said Mabel briskly. “Just get us out before he comes back.”

I took another deep breath, swallowed my exasperation, and said, “Okay, fine. But I want a full explanation later!”

Muttering to myself, I hurried into the hotel and paused in the lobby. The Cotswolds Manor Hotel had only opened a short while before I returned to England. In fact, the last time I’d been there was when I first arrived back in the country and had become embroiled in the murder of a young woman I’d met on the plane.

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