Logan stared at the door for a minute before turning to a fascinated Bernadette. “I don’t even know what happened in there.”
“She has that effect on everyone. It’s spooky. I’ve been having these weird random pains since she started working here. I searched her office, just in case there was a doll that looked like me that she was using as a pincushion. Nothing turned up. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I just need to look harder.”
Logan swallowed a sigh. “Bernadette, have you thought about going to college? You know, getting out of Invertary might do you good.”
“Oh, no.” Her heavily made-up eyes went wide. “It’s just a matter of time before my YouTube channel takes off, and I’m fine right here until it does. This job might not look like much, but they feed me, and when it’s slow, Dougal doesn’t mind if I work on my videos. How many jobs let you do that?”
“Okaaay,” Logan said. “Then can you do me a favor and keep an eye on Agnes? If she does anything out of the ordinary, send me a text.”
“You want me to spy on my boss?”
“Well, aye.”
“Yes!” She punched the air. “This day is looking up. I can totally do that for you. Do you need photos? I’m awesome at taking photos.”
“No,” Logan said, deflating her bubble a little. “Just updates.” She looked so crestfallen that he added, “But if something merits a photo, I wouldn’t say no.”
And just like that, Bernadette was back to perky. “I’m on it. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my eyes glued to her.” She handed him her phone. It was pink.
“Great.” He keyed in his number before returning it. “Thanks for your help.” He strode toward the door.
“Wait,” Bernadette called. “Does this mean I’m officially part of Benson Security?”
“In an unofficial capacity,” he said with a straight face.
“Awesome.” Bernadette looked starry-eyed.
With a shake of his head, Logan headed into the pub, where he was meeting Lake. Maybe his boss could shed some light on how Agnes’ mind worked, because he was coming up blank.
Agnes pressed her hand to the closed door after Logan had gone. Surely, he’d gotten the message that she didn’t want to start anything romantic. She’d been clear, right? And it was definitely what she wanted…mostly…
She’d spent the night thinking about it and had come to the conclusion that this was the only way forward. There was no future in starting something with Logan, so why put them both through an inevitable breakup? Why put his kids through it? Yes, it was definitely the right decision. So why did she have a pain in her chest from sending him away?
Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen to see it was housekeeping. “The delivery’s here,” the housekeeper said. “They’ve parked out front like you asked them to. Although why you didn’t get them to park at the back door as usual, I don’t know. Are you just trying to make more work for us?”
Agnes smiled, and she knew if anyone could see it, they’d run screaming. “It’s just for today. You can carry on with preparing the rooms, and I’ll deal with it personally.” She hung up before Eileen could complain that the housekeeping deliveries were her job.
“I’m dealing with a delivery,” she told Bernadette as she passed. “If you need me, call me on my mobile.”
Bernadette nodded and then, for some inexplicable reason, took her photo. Agnes didn’t even bother to ask. Some conversations seriously weren’t worth starting.
She pushed through the heavy wooden doors and stepped out into the icy December air, instantly wishing she’d thought to grab her coat. The driver climbed down to meet her. A big man with wild hair, he reminded her of Boris Johnson.
“You must be the new manager. Dougal doesn’t like us parking out front. And he’s very specific about not using the main door for deliveries.”
“I know,” she said sweetly and held out her hand for the paperwork. “Unfortunately, we’re having some work done and it isn’t possible to use the back door at the moment. I’m afraid you’ll have to take the boxes through the pub and up the stairs to the hotel.”
“Why can’t we use that door?” He pointed at the hotel doors she’d just come through.
“Blocked.”
It was clear he didn’t believe her, as he was staring at her as though trying to figure out what the punchline was. “Fine, we do it your way,” he said at last. Then he pointed at the guy in the passenger’s seat and signaled for him to get out.
Meanwhile, Agnes reached for her phone. She already had Mrs. Edwards primed to do her part, now she just needed to get Dougal out of the pub, so he wouldn’t start shouting when the deliverymen traipsed through.
“Dougal,” she said once he’d answered, “Mrs. Edwards has a problem, and she refuses to speak to anyone but you.”
“I’m happy to talk to her.” He hesitated. “But you’d better come with me, seeing as you’re the…ah…manager.”