Page 27 of Highland Getaway
What was her father thinking of, leaving a seven-year-old girl alone at this time of night?
Making up my mind to hang around at least until I can ask him this question myself, I smile reassuringly at her.
‘Sure,’ I tell her. ‘Now get to sleep.’
I turn to leave, but then another thought occurs to me, prompted by the thought of Hannah being the ghost I thought I’d seen when I arrived.
‘Hannah?’ I ask, halfway through the door. ‘You didn’t go into my room this morning by any chance, did you?’
‘Your room?’ She peeks at me over the top of the covers. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, really,’ I reply, not wanting to scare her. ‘It’s just .?.?. I thought I’d lost some of my clothes for a bit; but then they turned up again. It was quite funny, really. I wondered if you might have moved them? You know, as a prank? You can tell me if you did,’ I add quickly. ‘I won’t be angry.’
‘I’m not allowed to go into the guest rooms,’ Hannah replies, shaking her head vehemently. ‘I’d get into so much trouble. And I couldn’t, anyway. Dante always locks the spare keys away. He has a special box he keeps them in.’
‘Ah, I see,’ I reply, filing this piece of information away in case I need it later. ‘Oh well, never mind. I just wondered if you might know anything about it. It was probably just me being silly.’
‘Probably,’ says Hannah, snuggling back down. ‘Either that or Dante took them. He’s always sneaking around.’
‘Is he?’
‘Oh, yes. I see him sometimes. He doesn’t see me, though.’
She gives me a cheeky wink, and I smile back before closing the bedroom door, already thinking about how to find out what Dante was up to today; because while I can think of no earthly reason why he’d want to mess around with a guest’s clothes, the fact remains,someonedid it.
And wouldn’t the man with access to all the spare room keys be the number one suspect?
Chapter 11
I’m standing at the ironing board in Hannah’s living room a few minutes later, working my way through the pile of laundry that’s been left there, when the door to the corridor opens and Hunter Stuart appears, rubbing his eyes as if he’s just come off a particularly hard night shift; which is strange, really, because he’s a gardener, and I’m pretty sure they don’t work at night.
It’s not as strange as the fact that he’s here at all, though; and, judging by the surprised look on his face as we stare at each other, he’s thinking exactly the same thing about me.
Trust him to turn out to be Hannah’s father.
‘Can I ask what the hell you’re doing in my flat?’ says Hunter evenly, recovering first. ‘And at my ironing board?’
‘I don’t know,’ I reply smartly. ‘CanIask what the hell you were thinking, leaving a little girl on her own in the middle of the night? Because I think that’s a bit more important than you and your ironing, don’t you?’
Hunter glares at me.
‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ he says, ‘but Hannah’s not on her own. Agnes is with her. Or she’s supposed to be, anyway. That’s what I’m paying her for.’
He looks around the room, as if he’s expecting to see the housekeeper hiding in a corner somewhere. Unfortunately for him, though, it’s just me. And also Stevie, who comes bounding towards me joyfully, proof that at leastsomeonein this place is pleased to see me.
‘Agnes isn’t here,’ I tell him, stating the obvious. ‘And Hannah didn’t mention her, either. She was completely on her own. I found her in the hallway outside my room.’
I don’t bother mentioning that I thought his daughter was one of the Undead. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing a parent would want to hear, somehow.
‘Great,’ says Hunter, rubbing his eyes wearily again before coming all the way into the room and dropping into one of the armchairs, pushing a stack of books aside first. ‘I swear to God, I’m going to kill that girl. Not literally,’ he adds, meeting my startled gaze. ‘You can stop looking at me like that, Rosie Winter. Seriously, though, this is the second time Agnes has promised to keep an eye on Hannah, then disappeared. I bet she’s down in the cellars. Dante told me he thinks someone’s been helping themselves to some of the booze down there. Apparently there are quite a few bottles missing. We think some of the younger staff might be meeting up there after their shifts.’
He runs a hand down his face, and I feel a flash of sympathy for him. I don’t suppose it’s easy, being a single parent. Especially when people keep letting you down.
‘You didn’t mention you had a daughter,’ I say, turning back to the ironing, just to give myself something to do.
‘I didn’t realise I was supposed to tell the guests my life story,’ Hunter replies. ‘Dante must have missed out that part of the job description. Would you mind putting my underpants down, by the way? I don’t normally show women my underwear until I know them a little better.’
I glance down at my hands as if I’m seeing them for the first time, and, sure enough, I’m holding a pair of bright yellow boxer shorts with tiny pineapples printed on them.
