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  “What kind of evidence?”

  “A witness would be helpful. Someone who saw or heard something suspicious. Or material evidence—something tangible. The thing is, the pathologist didn’t find any evidence of a struggle. Everything he found was consistent with injuries she would have sustained in a fall, and that’s really all we have to go on. I can’t make this case into something it’s not.

  “But still, having said all that, the backpack bothers me, and I keep coming back to it. It’s a loose end, and detectives don’t like loose ends. I need to find out what happened to it.” She let out a defeated sigh. “Still, it’s possible that Jessica was carrying the backpack on the beach, and the tide managed to take it, so we may have to accept that’s what happened. We may never know.”

  “You just said you weren’t going to speculate,” Penny muttered.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about, I’ll give you that,” said Bethan just as Mrs. Lloyd joined them in the hallway.

  “You’ve probably come right off your shift and haven’t had your tea,” Mrs. Lloyd said to Bethan. “Would you like me to ask Florence to make you something? She does a lovely creamy scrambled eggs on toast, and we might even have some smoked salmon to go with it. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind making something specially for you.”

  “That’s very kind, but I’m all right.”

  “Oh well, if you’re sure.” Mrs. Lloyd disappeared into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with a tray of warm canapés that she held out to Bethan, who selected a cheese and spinach mini quiche. She popped it in her mouth and said, “Oh, that’s good,” then reached for another.

  “Well, I’m sure you two were discussing important matters,” said Mrs. Lloyd, “so I’ll leave you to it.” She looked from one to the other, as if hoping one of them would fill her in on what they’d been discussing, but when nothing was forthcoming, she drifted away with her tray into the sitting room,

  The sound of Bethan’s mobile ringing broke what could have become an uneasy silence had Colin not caught Penny’s eye. Just as she was about to excuse herself to rejoin him, Bethan glanced at the number and said, “Sorry. I have to take this.” She listened for a moment and then took a step in the direction of the front door. She paused, then said to Penny over her shoulder, “I have to go. But I also came here to tell you that you should expect a visitor.”

  * * *

  “Expect a visitor?” said Victoria when Penny recounted her conversation with Bethan as the party was drawing to a close. “Is she channelling the ghost of Jacob Marley?”

  “I don’t know,” said Penny. “She got a phone call and left before she could give me any details. But we’ll see what happens, I guess.”

  “You look troubled,” said Colin. “Did she say something to upset you?

  “Not really. We were discussing how Jessica Graham died. Bethan said the police don’t have anything to go on beyond that it was an accident, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it.”

  “Then she should listen to you,” Victoria suggested. “You have good instincts about these things. Maybe the police need to dig deeper.”

  “I think they do.”

  “Do the police listen to you?” Colin asked.

  “I offer insights and suggestions when I can,” said Penny, “and sometimes they listen to me.”

  “Oh, Penny, you’re being much too modest,” said Victoria. “You’ve helped the police solve, what, six or seven murders?”

  “That’s astonishing,” said Colin. “I thought you were just interested in what happened because you found the girl’s body. You did mention that you’d helped out with a few cases in the past, but I had no idea there was rather more to it than that.”

  “Does it bother you?” Victoria asked. “That Penny’s into solving crimes?”

  “No, not at all. It just seems such a—well, I wouldn’t use the word ‘strange,’ but it is unusual. Isn’t it? I mean, I’ve never met anyone else, who wasn’t a police officer, who does that. So you’re, what, an armchair detective?”

  “You could probably call me an amateur sleuth,” said Penny.

  “She doesn’t go looking for it,” said Victoria. “Murder just has a way of finding her.” She threw him a sly look. “You might just have to get used to that.”

  * * *

  “Our guests stayed a little longer than I thought they would,” remarked Mrs. Lloyd as she and Florence tidied up after the party. “We should have little get-togethers like this more often. Everyone seemed to be having such a good time.”

  “It was lovely to see Penny enjoying herself,” said Florence as she stacked used plates and glasses on a tray. “I don’t think she stopped smiling the whole time, except after her conversation with the policewoman. She was positively lit up. And him. He seems like a nice chap. What did you make of him?”

  “Made for each other.”

  “He seemed a little taken aback when he learned that she’s solved some murders.”

  “Oh, that. Pfft.” Mrs. Lloyd dismissed Penny’s accomplishments as she tossed a bunch of crumpled paper napkins on the tray. “The police would have got to the bottom of those cases anyway, without her help.” Florence responded by giving her one of her looks over the top of her glasses. “Yes, all right, Florence, point taken, but to be fair, she wouldn’t have got nearly as far as she did solving those murders without the benefit of my local knowledge. But enough about that. Did you see the way he looked at her? When she was over by the window, talking to Alwynne, and he was stood over here with Thomas, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. His eyes followed her everywhere.”

  “She did look rather pretty the way the light fell on her,” said Florence. “And that green frock she had on was so becoming. It must be new; I don’t think I’ve seen it on her before. She really is looking rather remarkable. There’s something about her eyes—there’s a sparkle in them. When she smiles, she looks so young and fresh. She’s positively glowing.”

  “Oh, Florence. There’s no mystery there! It’s as plain as can be. Can’t you tell? They’re in love.” Mrs. Lloyd rubbed her hands together as a broad smile lit up her face. “We’re going to be shopping for new outfits and fancy hats, you and me. You mark my words: those two will be married within a year.”

  “They’ve only known each other a few weeks, so it’s early days,” said Florence.

  “Sometimes all it takes is a few weeks. Or even less. The very first time I laid eyes on my Arthur, stood outside his fruit and veg shop in his green apron, I just knew he was the man for me.”

  “He didn’t stand a chance,” said Florence. She folded her arms and surveyed the now tidied-up room with some satisfaction.

  Mrs. Lloyd laughed. “No, I suppose he didn’t. But, oh, what wonderful times we had, Florence. We were so happy together. It’s on days like this I miss him terribly.” Florence did not reply, but gave her friend a soft, sympathetic smile, then set the laden tray on an old-fashioned tea wagon and trundled off with it into the kitchen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “So he’s gone,” said Victoria as she and Penny made their morning coffee in the Spa’s staff kitchen.

  “Yes. Left early this morning. He had to return the hire car, and then off to the airport.”

  “When will you see him again—did he say?”

  “He’s going to be out of touch for at least a couple of weeks. He’ll be working in the far north, and there probably won’t be Wi-Fi and masts for mobile phones, and all the rest of it. So I have to wait to hear from him.”

  Victoria removed her cup from the coffee brewer and then stepped aside to allow Penny access to the machine. “Well, I’m sure he won’t be gone a minute longer than necessary. And in the meantime, we’ve got lots to do here to keep you busy, including a meeting with Sarah Spencer today about our offering a spa service at the Beaumaris Arms. Which was a great idea, by the way. We’re going to do really well out of it.”

  “I’d like to take credit for it,
but actually it was Colin’s idea. But we’re meeting her today? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just found out myself a few minutes ago, when I checked my email, so I’m telling you now. She’s coming here for a site visit and to see what kinds of services we offer. And really, to see if the hotel wants to partner up with us.”

  “Well, can we suggest she get her hair done? It’s so dry and needs a professional colour. Alberto could do wonders with it.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Let’s give her a voucher for hair and a manicure.”

  “A voucher’s a great idea. After all, she gave me a voucher for a couple of nights at the hotel.” Penny pressed the “Start” button on the coffee brewer. “But in this case, instead of giving her a voucher, why don’t we offer to give her a manicure and haircut and colour today, after she’s had a tour? That way, she’ll leave feeling extra positive about us.”

  “Good idea. Manicure first, then hair. Is Eirlys free around, say, four this afternoon?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t thinking Eirlys would do her manicure. I’d like to do this one myself.”

  Victoria raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re up to, but go on then. I’ll ring her now and see if she has time today.”

  By the time Penny’s coffee was brewed and she’d unwrapped a muffin from the bakery, Victoria was back.

  “Sarah was thrilled. She says she never has time for herself, and presented with the offer of getting hair and nails done at no cost to her, and on company time, how could she say no?”

  Right, thought Penny. Now I just have to work out what I’m going to ask her.

  * * *

  “You do have a lovely place here,” said Sarah as Penny ushered her into the manicure studio after the tour of the premises. “I can see why the Spa is so popular, and your business is thriving. Everything is immaculate, and the colours are so calming. Do you think you’d use the same colours in the capsule spa at the Beaumaris?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t thought that far ahead. I suppose it depends on how much space we have. But for now, let’s think about what colour of nail varnish you’d like.” She gestured at the wall of bottles of lacquer arranged in colours ranging from white to black, with every shade and hue in between.

  “Well, nothing too outrageous. Something safe for work, I suppose.” Penny pointed her to the section of deep pinks and reds, and after careful consideration, Sarah selected a brownish taupe.

  “Very smart,” said Penny. “Sophisticated.”

  Over the course of the day Penny had pondered how to open her conversation with Sarah, and had settled on the words she spoke now. “The hospitality industry is so demanding I’m sure you don’t get much time for a little pampering for yourself. On the Friday night of the painting retreat, as I recall, you were called in at the last minute to take over bar duties.”

  “That’s right,” said Sarah as Penny placed her hands in a soaking bowl. “Sorry—did I serve you? If so, I don’t remember. I was run off my feet that night and barely had time to look up, let alone chat with customers. Friday nights are always busy in the summer, plus that night we had the painting party in.”

  “And then, of course, the next morning Jessica’s body was found.”

  “Well, I could have done without that, let me tell you,” Sarah said, emphasizing the word “that.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did. Of course, I’m terribly sorry for what happened to the poor girl, but it was really the police all over the place, asking their endless questions, that annoyed me. And of course her room was tied up for a couple of days while they poked around. And on top of all that, we’ve got a lot of internal stuff going on.”

  Penny decided not to respond to her comments on Jessica’s death. “If there’s a lot of internal stuff going on, is this the right time for us to be discussing opening a spa at the hotel?”

  “Oh, absolutely it is. There’s a couple of hair salons and a nail bar in town, but there isn’t a proper spa where you can get everything done in one place. And I visited those other places recently, and if I’m honest, they’re all looking a bit tired. One of the hair salons is painted the most hideous candyfloss pink. Can you imagine?

  “And just think about all the trade we’ll do over the Christmas season. All the ladies getting ready for the festive parties, family dinners, and so on.”

  “And weddings,” Penny reminded her. “June is always our busiest time. The bookings start the year before.”

  “Not to mention the add-on benefits for the hotel. They’ll all be taking tea. We were thinking about offering a champagne service. A glass of champagne to go along with your pampering. What do you think about that?”

  “That would certainly make it special,” said Penny. “Sounds like a lovely idea. Unfortunately I didn’t think of that today, so no champagne for you, I’m afraid.”

  “Well never mind. I forgive you this time.”

  Penny continued shaping Sarah’s nails, and then, without looking at her, asked, “Did you happen to meet Jessica Graham when she stayed at the hotel?”

  Sarah hesitated for what seemed just a fraction too long before replying. “No, I never spoke to her. I wouldn’t have had any reason to. She didn’t complain about anything, so the hotel staff looked after her. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no particular reason. Just curious, that’s all. We chatted with her on the Friday evening and she seemed so excited about her first visit to the U.K. and the stories she was working on.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. Spent the whole night behind the bar getting the drinks out as fast as I could, and then there’s always so much to do after the bar closes. Well, you’ve got a business, so you know all about that. Running the end-of-day sequence and making sure everything’s in order for opening the next day. It never ends.”

  “Oh yes,” agreed Penny. “I know all about that. Not complaining, though. Our business would be in serious trouble if we didn’t have takings to total up at the end of the day.”

  “True. Though I suppose it’s different when it’s your own business than when you work for someone else. I expect you care just that little bit more.”

  Penny reached for a bottle of base coat and began applying it in swift, smooth strokes. Thinking about the photo she and Colin had seen in Sarah’s apartment, with Sarah and a man standing in front of that glossy black door, and remembering what Cilla had told her about Sarah and Bill Ward meeting at the country house hotel where Sarah worked, she asked, “Have you always worked in the hospitality industry?”

  “Yes, I have. Different hotels, of course. Some better than others.”

  Penny took a gamble with her next question. “What was the nicest hotel you worked at?”

  “Well, I’m sure you’re expecting me to say the Beaumaris Arms, but not quite. I worked at a beautiful country house hotel just outside Manchester called Langdon Hall. It was really beautiful and had such a warm, inviting atmosphere. I loved it there.”

  “Oh, was there any particular reason you left?”

  Sarah gave her a piercing look. “It was just time to move on. Pastures new. Judging by your accent, I’m guessing you know a little about that yourself.”

  “Yes, I do. Although I’ve been very happy in my current pasture for the last twenty-five years or so.”

  She finished the base coat and picked up the bottle of nail varnish Sarah had chosen.

  “Last chance to change your mind. Are you sure this is the colour you want?”

  Sarah examined it, pursed her lips, and then glanced at the array of bottles arranged so neatly on their shelves. “I might just have another look, if that’s okay.”

  “Perfectly fine. Clients often change their minds. Take your time.”

  Sarah browsed the bottles, and after selecting another one, she handed it to Penny and the manicure continued. Just as Penny applied the last few brushstrokes of the top coat, Rhian, the Spa’s receptionist, poked her head aroun
d the door.

  “Penny, Alberto’s almost ready for Sarah. Oh, and you have a visitor waiting for you in the quiet room.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  For the briefest of moments, her heart soared. And then, when she remembered that Bethan had told her to expect a visitor, it landed back in her chest with a deflated thud. Of course he isn’t here. How could he be? He’s thousands of miles away by now and soon he’ll be somewhere in the dense, inhospitable bush of Northern Canada.

  “All done,” Penny said a few minutes later as she screwed the top back on the bottle of clear top coat and set it to one side. “You’ll have to be careful for the next little while until they’re dry.” Sarah remained where she was, her hands flat on the work top, while Penny tidied up, and when she was finished, she indicated it was time to leave for the hair salon. After handing Sarah over to Alberto, Penny made her way down the hallway to the quiet room.

  A small space reserved for private conversations or a reflective moment alone, it was decorated in soothing, sophisticated neutral colours of cream and taupe and featured two deep, squishy chairs upholstered in chocolate-brown faux suede, facing each other, with a low coffee table between them. On a small floating shelf mounted under a watercolour of the Spa building as it had been before its renovation, painted by Penny herself, a grouping of LED candles flickered away.

  A woman seated in one of the chairs turned a pale, drawn face to Penny, and placing her hands on the armrest for support, she rose. She was about Penny’s age but seemed much older.

  “Hello,” she said. “Are you Penny Brannigan?”

  Seeing a family resemblance and sensing who she was, Penny held out her hand. “Yes, I am.”

  The woman grasped her hand. “I’m Louise Graham. The police told me it was you who found my daughter, Jessica.”

  “Yes, I did. Mrs. Graham, I cannot tell you how deeply sorry I am for your loss. Please, let’s sit down. May I get you some tea or coffee?”