The Corpse With the Golden Nose Read Online Free PDF

breakfast will be served there on both Saturday and Sunday, which makes life a little easier for us in the mornings.”
    â€œTrue,” replied Bud, “and I guess it must be very good.” He sounded quite excited.
    â€œAnyway—there’s the married couple who live at Anen House. They’ve been there since the place opened about eight months ago. Pat Corrigan is, as I said, the chef, and his wife, Lauren, is the housekeeper. Ellen hired them from a restaurant near Dublin, when it closed down. Clearly, she likes him , but merely tolerates the wife, whose cleaning standards are not quite the same as her own it seems, which is a bit alarming, since we’re staying there. Mind you, it’s unlikely we’d either of us notice the odd cobweb?”
    â€œTrue,” Bud replied. “I’ve got the excuse of having a muck-loving dog living in the apartment with me. I’m not sure you feel the need to have an excuse for not owning a long-handled feather duster, right?” He grinned.
    â€œOh, I own one,” I countered. “I’m just not sure I remember where I left it . . .”
    I grinned back, though Bud didn’t see me because, very sensibly, he kept his eyes on the greasy road ahead.
    â€œAnd there’s me thinking you remember everything  . . .” Bud smiled. Bud’s smile can be very distracting.
    â€œPossible cleanliness issues aside,” I continued, “Ellen seems content that she has the right people running the B&B , but, from our point of view, as murder suspects—”
    â€œHey, they’re your suspects, Cait, not mine. I’m still not convinced this wasn’t a suicide.”
    â€œOkay, from my point of view,” I conceded, “as murder suspects, the Corrigans, who I’m assuming are not just from Ireland but are in fact Irish, cannot be considered to be in the frame at all. They weren’t in the country when Annette died.”
    Bud looked disgruntled, even though I’d given in to his rather sharply made point.
    â€œOnwards and upwards,” I continued, as our route did exactly that. “There’s a whole collection of people listed as ‘suspects’—Ellen’s word, not mine, before you get on your high horse again, Bud Anderson. Saturday lunch will be hosted by the MacMillan family at their home, Lakeview Lodge—which I’m going to go out on a limb and guess overlooks the lake. He’s something big in oil in Calgary, and she lives in Kelowna, in fine style by the sound of it. Ellen seems to think that Sheri MacMillan spends all her time wandering from day spa to day spa, sitting on committees, shopping, lunching, and spending her husband’s money. She refers to her as ‘vapid and fussy, but harmless.’ Apparently, Rob MacMillan shows his face from time to time but basically spends the year in Alberta, where they have another house. Ellen admits to not knowing him very well. They have a seventeen-year-old son, who lives with his mother and attends high school in Kelowna, who Ellen describes as ‘weird’: she says he’s quiet, lacks social skills, and is known for cycling around the area too fast. All three MacMillans were in town at the time of Annette’s death, though Rob left on an early flight to Calgary the morning Ellen discovered her body. Ellen doesn’t give any reasons for why any of these people might want Annette dead, so don’t hold your breath waiting for motives to emerge,” I added. I thought I’d better tell Bud sooner rather than later.
    â€œI wasn’t actually expecting any motives to be forthcoming,” he replied calmly. “Ellen’s told me on several occasions that Annette was universally loved and respected.”
    â€œHmmm . . . well, that’s not true about anyone ,” I replied, “except you, of course,” I chuckled.
    â€œOh Cait—now you know