St. Patrick's Day Murder Read Online Free PDF

been renovated, of course, and now boasted luxurious king-size beds and marble baths, but the roomy wraparound porch, with its ranks of rocking chairs, and the dining room and parlors remained much the same as they had looked over a hundred years ago. Antique furniture stood on thick, plush rugs; crisp white curtains hung at the windows; and enormous potted plants filled the corners.
    “This is quite charming,” exclaimed Moira, cutting quite a dramatic figure as Lucy held the door for her and she swept up to the registration desk, with the cape streaming behind her. Once there she lifted the hood back with a graceful motion and shook her red hair loose.
    “I’ll go and get the bags,” offered Lucy, who didn’t want to intrude while Moira went through the business of getting a room. Then, stifling a stab of resentment when she found herself wrestling two oversized suitcases up the steps, she wondered why she’d been so quick to volunteer for bellhop duty. Once inside, she toted the wheeled bags down the hall, following Moira, who was holding the room key in one hand and Deirdre’s little hand in the other.
    Lucy felt rather awkward once they were inside the room, so she quickly took her leave. “I’m sure you want to get settled,” she began, “but let me give you my phone number….”
    “Oh, Lucy, don’t run off,” said Moira, removing her cape and laying it on the bed. She then sat down and started unzipping Deirdre’s little pink parka. As she watched the cozy domestic scene, Lucy could practically feel her heart melting and oozing with sympathy. She could only imagine what it must be like to be alone and adrift in a strange country.
    With her coat removed, Deirdre was revealed to have her father’s dark hair and her mother’s little, pointed chin, along with a pair of the biggest, greenest eyes and the longest lashes Lucy had ever seen. Moira sent her into the bathroom to wash her hands, and when she emerged, she stood in the doorway and gave an enormous yawn.
    “I think perhaps it’s time for a nap,” said Moira, settling the little girl on a chaise lounge that sat in the corner, covering her with her cape. “Mommy will be right down the hall,” she said, smoothing the child’s hair and giving her a kiss. “Come along, Lucy. Let’s see if they can give us a cup of tea while we get acquainted.”
    Once again, Lucy found herself following Moira, who was wearing a long black skirt and an emerald green cashmere sweater, down the hall to the parlor, where they perched on an extremely curvy and lavishly carved Victorian sofa. Moira seemed to do little more than snap her fingers and a tea tray magically appeared, complete with finger sandwiches and an assortment of little cakes and cookies.
    “You must be famished,” said Lucy, helping herself to a cream cheese and date-nut bread sandwich. She certainly was, since she hadn’t had lunch yet.
    “No, not really,” said Moira, lifting the teapot and pouring. “I always feel bloated after a transatlantic flight. They give you too much food, and you can’t move around much.”
    This was news to Lucy. She hadn’t heard anybody complain of too much food on an airplane flight for some time now.
    “In the States, it’s a tiny bag of five peanuts and a little cup of soda—if you’re lucky,” she said, but Moira ignored her conversational gambit.
    “Can you tell me what really happened to Dan?” she asked, placing one hand on Lucy’s knee and leaning toward her. “I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Deirdre, you see.”
    “Of course,” said Lucy, unconsciously recrossing her legs so Moira had to move her hand. “All I know is that they found a body in the harbor, and they think it’s Old Dan. That’s what everybody called him here,” she added, by way of apology. “Did you know him well?”
    “Never met him,” said Moira, taking a sip of milky tea. “He moved to America years before Dylan and I got married.”
    “Was Dylan