they sampled smoked salmon from the loch with bagels and coffee.
Audrey McKee flitted about, making the social rounds, and made a point to stop at their table. “Good morning,” she said with a plastered smile. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Like the dead,” Loren said. “I’m afraid I’m still feeling a bit groggy and out of sorts.”
“A good breakfast should cure that. At least I hope so. We have a busy day filled with seminars and speakers.” She leaned forward and whispered. “You won’t want to miss the Spanish prime minister’s talk. It will be very motivating.”
“I look forward to it.”
“And Mr. Pitt,” she asked, “what’s on your agenda today?”
“I’m going to attempt a little fishing on the loch. I understand a boat can be had down the road at Drumnadrochit.”
“Indeed. It should be fine weather for a day on the water. Perhaps you can bring back some fresh fish for the kitchen.”
“I’ll certainly try.”
“Well, good luck. Loren, we’ll look for you to join us in the dining hall shortly.”
As Audrey moved off to mingle with the other guests, Loren leaned across the table and spoke in a low voice. “I’ve never known you to have the patience for fishing, even on vacation.”
Pitt glanced around the room, wondering if there were eavesdropping devices. “It all depends on the quarry. I’m of the opinion there’s a large catch to be had in these waters.”
Loren shook her head. “Well, just don’t bring back any monsters.” She rose stiffly and turned her back on him, joining the other women migrating to the hall. Uncharacteristically, she neglected to kiss him good-bye.
Pitt watched her leave with growing concern. Loren was turning more distant by the hour. Audrey appeared, grabbing Loren’s arm and herding her down the hallway. The younger McKee turned and looked at Pitt, tossing him a smug smile. He watched them leave, feeling a touch light-headed himself, but trusting his instincts. He sniffed at his coffee, then put it down, unfinished. He returned to their room and grabbed a jacket and the car keys.
He found the corridor empty and decided to have a look around. Their room was at the manor’s back corner, and he continued along the lakefront hallway. The view suites, named for Scottish clans with bronze plaques on the doors, were separated by small windows that overlooked the lake. Similar rooms lined the interior wall, with windows that opened onto the manor’s central courtyard.
Pitt walked to the opposite corner, where the hallway turned and ran toward the front rotunda, passing the dining hall along the way. Near the corner, he stopped at a single side door that lacked any emblems. He tested the handle, and the door opened to a carpeted stairwell that led to a lower level. Scant lighting illumined the way as Pitt descended to the basement.
The carpeted steps gave way to a thick-planked wood floor, worn by centuries of use. The empty open room was dimly lit and unheated. Pitt realized why when he saw a large stack of oak barrels to one side. Behind them, he found a row of wooden racks filled with bottles of wine. He pulled out a bottle, blew off its dusty coating, and read the label aloud. “‘Château Lafite Rothschild, 1961.’ Well done, Mr. McKee.”
He replaced the bottle and moved past the wine racks to a dark side room. Groping for a wall switch, he illuminated a richly decorated den with walnut paneling and a polar bear skin rug. Two huge salmon, presumably from the loch, were stuffed and mounted over the doorways. A pair of wingback chairs sat in the middle of the room, facing a side wall.
Stepping into the room, Pitt could see the wall displayed an assortment of museum-quality artifacts. The centerpiece, in a glass case, was an ancient frock and kilt, stained with dirt and blood and identified as a Highland rebel’s uniform from the Jacobite uprising of 1745. A dagger, spear, and blunderbuss were mounted beside it. A small label beneath proclaimed ANGUS McKEE, BATTLE OF CULLODEN.
On either side was an impressive display of ancient armaments, from medieval battle axes to eighteenth-century dueling pistols. Pitt admired a highly engraved flintlock boarding pistol with attached bayonet, displayed in a wooden case. The case was dusty like the wine. No one had admired the collection in quite some time.
Pitt turned off the light and left the study. Beyond it, a wide corridor ran to his right, toward the front of the manor. He passed several empty storage rooms