A knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Viv crossed the room and pulled the door open. It was Detective Inspector Stewart. He looked past Viv at me and said, “Ms. Parker, you have an uncanny knack for being present when dead bodies are found.”

I felt my stomach drop. “Quentin is dead?”

“Yes, and according to several witnesses, including the unfortunate young woman who was with the deceased, you two were the first on the scene.” Detective Stewart’s jaw was tight. He looked frustrated and furious. “I’d like to know how that happened?”

I have to say, it was refreshing to not be the only one in the hot seat. Having Harry by my side meant it wasn’t just me in trouble anymore, and I really appreciated that.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Harry said.

Detective Stewart’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me everything.”

I glanced at Harry and he nodded, so I told the detective about being on the veranda and wondering what had caused Dooney’s death. I told him we decided to retrace my steps to the library while I’d been looking for the bathroom and how we wondered if Dooney had been doing the same thing.

He seemed singularly unimpressed and could barely hide his impatience. I wanted to point out that he was the one who’d asked, but I suspected that wouldn’t go well, so I held my retort in check and continued.

“Before we could go into the library, however, Rita May came out and she was having words with Archie Carlton.”

Detective Stewart straightened up and his gaze sharpened. “What sort of words?”

“From what we could tell, she’d asked him to look for something that she’d lost in the library and she was very upset that he hadn’t been able to find it,” I said.

“What was it?”

“When we asked him, Archie said it was an earring,” I said. “But I felt like he was prevaricating. He seemed very uncomfortable.”

The detective’s eyebrows rose. He turned to Harrison. “Anything to add?”

“No, that about covers it,” he said. By silent agreement, he took over the telling of the story. “When we were headed back to our room, we happened upon the salon where the bridesmaid Trisha was enjoying drinks with the best man, Quentin.”

“Were they the only two people in the room?”

Harry nodded. “He was telling her that Dooney let him in on a secret that was going to make him a lot of money.”

“What secret?”

Harry looked uncomfortable and said, “We were just passing by and happened to catch that part of the conversation. They were . . . er . . . busy, so we moved along. We had almost arrived here at our room when we heard Trisha scream.”

“And you knew that’s who it was?” The detective’s gaze was uncompromising.

“We just followed the noise.” Harry shrugged. “And that’s where it led.”