for your next challenge.”
The onslaught of negative vibes crackling throughout the room slowly ebbed, replaced by a low-level buzz that swelled to a chirpy titter. “You’re still going to let us geocache?” asked Grace Stolee.
“You can count on it,” Wally assured her. “The current situation
is out of our hands, so there’s no reason we can’t proceed as planned. I’ve written the day’s itinerary on the whiteboard in the lobby, so please check it out after breakfast. In a nutshell—geocaching at Urquhart Castle first, a late morning stop at the Loch Ness Exhibition Center, an afternoon cruise on Loch Ness itself, and then dinner in Drumnadrochit, where you’ll be entertained by a trio of bagpipers and treated to a smorgasbord of original Scottish delicacies such as Cullen Skink, Clootie Dumplings, Rumbledethumps, and Dundee Cake.”
Margi looked stricken. “Those things don’t sound like they’re going to taste very good, except for maybe the cake. Will we be able to order off the menu?”
“There’s no menu,” said Wally. “It’s a fixed meal.”
“Why are we having a smorgasbord in Scotland?” asked Helen. “Are they going to serve Swedish food?”
“Is skunk Swedish?” asked Alice, who gave her hearing aid a little tap.
“I think skunk is one a them Southern delicacies,” Nana piped up. “Kinda like chitlins, or roadkill.”
“Why do Scottish dumplings have cooties?” asked Lucille. “Shouldn’t we notify the Board of Health?”
“Maybe they don’t got no Board of Health,” said Nana.
“Which would explain why all their food is contaminated,” concluded Grace.
Wally opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, looking suddenly unnerved and twitchy, as if he were suffering from shell shock. Poor thing. He was probably more accustomed to dealing with guests whose conversations actually made sense.
“Could I say something?” I asked, standing up so everyone could see me. “Just to clarify about dinner this evening in Drumnadrochit—”
“I’m sorry I’m late!” Dolly Pinker breezed into the room in leopard print jeans and a spandex top that dipped halfway to her navel and clung to her body like plastic wrap. “I’m so disoriented. My alarm didn’t go off, so when I finally woke up, I had to hurry, hurry, hurry.” She let out an exhausted breath as she scanned the room at large. “So, have I missed anything?”
Wally nodded. “There’s good news and bad news.”
“Isobel Kronk died last night,” Bill Gordon called out without preamble.
Dolly fluffed her hair, looking oddly disaffected by the news. “Oh, really? Imagine that.” She turned her attention on Wally. “So … what’s the bad news?”
NINE
URQUHART CASTLE, INEXPLICABLY PRONOUNCED Urkut, occupies a prime slice of real estate on a rock-ribbed promontory overlooking the waters of Loch Ness. Built in the early 1200s, it boasts all the features of a contemporary five-star resort—killer location, breathtaking views, impeccably groomed landscaping, proximity to local attractions. The only things it lacks are a roof, walls, floor, windows, and indoor plumbing.
“What do you mean, it’s a ruin?” groused Bernice as we pulled into the coach section of the parking lot. “Who the devil wants to look at a pile of crumbling rocks?”
“Apparently, thousands of curiosity seekers,” Wally replied over his mike, “because this is one of the most popular tourist sites in Scotland. It has a pretty bloody history, which is covered in the video presentation at the visitor center, so if you’re a history buff and have a strong stomach, I’d recommend you watch it.”
“The MacDonalds of the Isles were staunch defenders of Urquhart Castle seven hundred years ago,” Bill Gordon said in a booming voice. “And I’m proud to say, the MacDonalds and my kin were like this.” He raised his hand above his head and twisted his index and middle fingers around each other like creeping vines.
“Would you give it a rest?” his wife complained. “No one cares about your damn relatives.”
As our driver maneuvered into a vacant space and killed the engine, Wally slid out from his front seat and stepped into the aisle. “The visitor center is state-of-the-art, with great views of the loch from the veranda. There’s also a coin-operated observation telescope so you can catch a close-up of Nessie should she decide to rear her head. Team Four is first up today, which is our Do It or Lose It team. While they’re on the hunt, I suggest the rest of you browse in the gift shop or grab a cup of coffee in the café. I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to head out.”
“Team Yes We Can only has four members now,” Bernice shouted from the