“How could they?” I said. “They don’t know where I am. Peter’s been away from home for the past year, studying seals on an island not too far from here. I don’t know what brought him to Erinskil, but I plan to find out. Damian and I are going to join him for a spot of bird-watching tomorrow morning.” I looked up at Mrs. Gammidge as she removed my empty soup bowl. “Would it be possible to have an early supper on a tray in my room tonight, Mrs. Gammidge? Damian and I are meeting Peter at seven, so I’d like to get to bed at a reasonable hour.”
“Nothing could be simpler, dear girl,” Sir Percy boomed. “Make a note of it, Mrs. Gammidge. An early supper on a tray for our esteemed guest.”
“If I might make a suggestion, sir,” said the housekeeper. “Ms. Shepherd could dine with her sons this evening. Dinner is served at six o’clock in the nursery.”
“A perfect solution,” I said.
“I’ll ask Cook to send breakfast up to you and Mr. Hunter at half past five tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Gammidge continued. “I’ll also ask her to pack a hamper for you, so you won’t have to hurry back to the castle for lunch.”
“Would you ask Cook to pack something for our friends as well?” I asked. “They’re young, so they’re bound to be hungry.”
“Of course,” she replied, and served the fillet of sole.
Damian withdrew from the conversation halfway through the main course and scarcely spoke a word as we rode the elevator up to the nursery to check in with the twins. He was clearly preoccupied, but when I asked if he was worried about anything in particular, he shook his head.
“Nothing in particular,” he answered distantly. “Something’s not right, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“At the risk of sounding self-centered,” I said, “may I ask if this something has to do with me and the boys?”
“I don’t think so.” His eyes focused sharply on my face. “But I would appreciate it if you’d remain in your suite or in the nursery for the rest of the day. I’ll arrange for tea to be served in the nursery.”
“No problem,” I said, and refrained from quizzing him. I didn’t know what was bothering him, but I was confident that our early-morning rendezvous would allay any misgivings he might have about Peter Harris.
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Rob and Will in the nursery. Sir Percy had provided them with so many different games and toys, and Andrew was such a clever ringmaster, that they didn’t mind being cooped up. When I explained to them that Damian and I would be going out the next morning, they informed me that they’d be busy, too, playing knights-in-armor on the battlements with Andrew. As I watched them race their rocking horses, I became more convinced than ever that they’d beg Sir Percy to adopt them when it came time for them to return to their humdrum home.
After tea, dinner, baths, and bedtime stories, I returned to my suite and a phone call from my discouraged husband. Bill had spent another long day going through client files with Chief Superintendent Yarborough and would spend much of the night doing the same thing. Not a single lead had raised its ugly head.
“I feel so stupid, Lori,” he said. “I know my clients. I should know who Abaddon is by now, but I can’t for the life of me point to a likely suspect.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I told him. “If one of your clients has gone bonkers, then you don’t really know him anymore.”
“True, I suppose,” he said glumly.
“Has Abaddon sent any more e-mail?” I asked.
“Not a single line,” said Bill. “Yarborough’s concerned. He thinks it means that Abaddon’s moved from one phase to the next—from sending threats to acting upon them.”
I clutched the phone more tightly. “Is everything okay at home?”
“Yes,” Bill assured me. “I’ve touched base with Ivan Anton, Emma Harris, and Annelise. They’re fine, the animals are fine, and the cottage is still standing.”
“Let’s count our blessings, then,” I said, “and keep working to nail this creep. I know you’ll figure it out, Bill.”
“Time isn’t on our side, Lori. If Yarborough’s right about the e-mail, I have to find Abaddon quickly or—” He caught himself, took a steadying breath, and asked, “How was your day?”
He sounded so low that I didn’t have the heart to tell him about the skull, the ghost, the grave, the curse, or the unnamed “something” that was troubling my bodyguard. Instead, I gave him a jolly version of the day’s activities, beginning with the cricket match in the cove and ending with Peter Harris’s surprise appearance at the pub.
“Peter!” Bill exclaimed. “Are you kidding? Why in the world—”
“I don’t know,” I said for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “He’s traveling incognito, so I didn’t get the chance to ask him why he’s on Erinskil.”
“Peter Harris is traveling incognito?” Bill said wonderingly. “Our Peter Harris? The dutiful, hardworking young man we know and love?”
“Yep,” I said. “That’s the one. Pretty incredible, huh?”
“Utterly incredible,” said Bill.
“We’ve arranged a clandestine rendezvous for tomorrow,” I said, “and I promise you, I’ll get the whole story out of him.”
“I’m sure it will be very interesting,” Bill understated. “Give him my best.”