This announcement caused the room to go quiet as the guests stilled. Forks stopped in midair. Coffee cups were gently put back on their saucers. Lips were patted with napkins. Everyone gave the detective their full attention. Even knowing what he was about to tell them, I felt the same sense that something big was happening.

“It is with heartfelt sympathy that I must share some tragic news,” he said. His voice was low and deep, soothing but somber. “It appears that Dooney Portis passed away this evening.”

“What?” Quentin cried. He looked stunned. As Quentin was his best man, I imagined it had to be more than a little shocking to learn that his best mate, whom he’d just been having a cigarette with, was dead. “Is this a joke?”

“No,” Piper cried. She met Quentin’s gaze. “It’s true.”

Stunned silence met his words and then, as the news sank in, gasps and cries of disbelief filled the air. Piper put a hand over her face and sobbed. Her parents immediately hugged her, one on each side.

“How?” Quentin asked. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, at this time we’re not at liberty to discuss the cause of death, but we will be investigating,” Detective Stewart said.

I watched as the rest of the guests processed the news. Dooney Portis was dead. There would be no wedding. There would be an investigation because the police didn’t know how he died. It took about seven seconds before a voice spoke over the shocked murmurs and mutterings.

“Was he murdered?” a woman at another table asked.

I saw Rita glare at the woman over Piper’s head. The woman was sitting at one of the tables reserved for the Portis family. Interesting.

“Again, I can’t answer any questions at this time,” Detective Inspector Stewart said. “You will all be questioned over the next few days as we try to determine the cause of death. We will, of course, keep the families posted on our findings.”

The rumble started up again. This time there was more outrage and indignation.

“Are you saying that you’re keeping us all here for a few days?” a man at another table demanded.

“Correct,” Detective Inspector Stewart said. “My team will be stationed all over the castle. I suggest that once dinner is finished, you all retire to your rooms. There will be a nightly curfew of ten o’clock while the investigation is underway.”

Viv slowly turned her face toward me. “A weekend in a castle, you said. It’ll be fun, you said.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

“Not nearly as sorry as I am,” she said. She tossed her napkin onto the table and rose to her feet. “I’m going to bed.”

Andre and I rose, too. “Wait for us. You can’t wander around the castle alone.”

“Of course I can,” Viv said. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”