Evan shook his head. “I’ve always had pretty much what I wanted, right here,” he said. “Although there was a time, after my father died …” He paused, then shook his head more firmly. “Even then you’d not have found me sitting in any bloody pyramid.”
They had reached the main gate and Evan pressed the buzzer.
“North Wales police again to see the owners,” Evan said.
“They’re busy today. I don’t know if they can see you,” Blaine’s voice crackled through the intercom.
“Then they’d better unbusy themselves.” Glynis leaned across to address the intercom. “Detective Constable Davies speaking. We’ve come on a very serious matter.”
The gate swung open then shut again immediately. “The gate must be to keep their clients from escaping before they’ve paid the bill,” Glynis quipped, then saw Evan’s serious face. “What? Do you think there’s something wrong with this place?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “There’s something that doesn’t add up. I can’t put my finger on it yet.”
“Interesting. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Evan parked where he had left the motorcycle the day before. They declined Blaine’s instructions to wait and set off down the cobbled main street.
“I see what you mean,” Glynis said, laughing in amazement. “It’s very Disneyland, isn’t it? Quaint and pretty but strangely surreal.”
They were just passing under the arch when Michael came running down the steps toward them. “Hey, just a minute. Oh, it’s you, Constable.”
“And this is Detective Glynis Davies.” Evan indicated the young woman in the dark gray suit.
Michael looked momentarily startled. “Detective? Is there some sort of problem, C-constable?”
“There might be,” Evan said. “Now, if you’d take us to Lady Annabel or Mr. Wunderlich straightaway.”
“Lady Annabel is down at the spa, getting a massage,” Michael said. “It’s this way.”
They went in through the glass doors of the spa building to a tiled atrium. A fountain was splashing against one wall, while soft piped music filled the background. The walls were tiled in an undersea motif with strands of wafting seaweed and schools of fish. It was so authentic that it felt like walking through an aquarium.
“If you wait here, I’ll go and see if she’s finished yet.” He gave a half-apologetic grin. “She hates being disturbed when she’s having a massage.”
Evan and Glynis glanced at each other as Michael disappeared into the rear of the building.
“What the hell for?” they heard a sharp voice demand. “Oh, very well. Tell them I’ll be right out.”
Michael returned, his face pink with embarrassment. “She’ll be right out. Take a seat.”
A few moments later Annabel emerged, dressed in a large, fluffy white robe. Her hair was piled up on top of her head but her face was still perfectly made-up. “Thank you, Sergio. You’re a gem,” she called. “I feel like a new woman.”
“Constable.” She gave him a beaming smile. “What brings you back again so soon? Have you been converted to Rhiannon and her band?”
“Lady Annabel. This is Detective Constable Davies,” Evan said. “She’s the one who is looking into the missing American girl.”
“But I thought we established yesterday that she hasn’t ever stayed here.” A frown of annoyance cracked the perfect makeup.
“Oh, yes, we know she was never a guest,” Glynis said. “But you weren’t entirely truthful with Constable Evans, were you?”
“In what way?”
“One of your staff recognized the girl. We understand that she used to work for you.”
“A staff member?” Annabel sounded genuinely surprised. “I had no idea we hired college students. I thought the staff were all locals. I really don’t have that much interaction—it is Mrs. Roberts, my housekeeper, who does the hiring and firing. Wait while I get dressed and I’ll take you to see her. Michael, go and locate Mrs. Roberts for me, would you? This whole thing is most disagreeable.”
Evan and Glynis waited again. “If the wonder boy is so psychic, then why didn’t he know that she was working for him?” Evan muttered to Glynis, who grinned.
“I have to meet this wonder boy,” she said. “If he’s half as gorgeous as Betsy tells us, then …”
“I don’t think your boyfriend would like it. Neither would Lady Annabel.”
“I’m getting rather bored with that particular boyfriend, as it happens,” Glynis said. Now, why exactly had she told him that? Evan wondered. At that moment Annabel reappeared, now dressed in a purple velour tracksuit.
“Right. Let’s go and find Mrs. Roberts. I am most sorry that you had to come back here again, but you did only ask about guests, didn’t you? I had no idea that staff might be concerned … .”
While she was talking, she started off at a great pace up the steps and into the main house. For someone who carried excess weight, she was certainly light on her feet and full of energy, Evan noticed. Maybe there was something to this hocus-pocus after all.
Mrs. Roberts was found in a small, austere office behind the kitchens. She had the typical Welshwoman’s face, one that has become the stereotype of the witch—long, thin, with pointed chin and high forehead. She got to her feet as they came in and she appraised Evan and Glynis critically.
“Mrs. Roberts is my wonderful housekeeper,” Annabel said. “She’s been with my family since the year dot. She can tell you anything you want to know. There’s not much that escapes her eagle eye around here, is there, Mrs. R?”
Mrs. Roberts’s face didn’t even crack into a smile. She nodded. “What is it you’re wanting?” she asked, looking directly at Evan.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Annabel said. “I have guests arriving in half an hour. I don’t want to greet them looking sweaty and unkempt like this.” She went, leaving Mrs. Roberts still staring at Evan.
“Mrs. Roberts, I’m Detective Constable Glynis Davies.” Glynis stepped forward to let her know that she was the one conducting the investigation. “We’re here checking on a missing girl. An American college student. Her name is Rebecca Riesen and we understand from another member of your staff that she worked here earlier this spring.”
“Rebecca?” The elderly woman frowned. “Yes, I do remember an American girl. She begged to be hired and then walked out within the week, but then I hear Americans are flighty—like the mistress’s present husband. Wants one thing for his dinner and then changes his mind or leaves half of it. Flighty.” She glanced around then asked, lowering her voice, “Do you have Welsh?”
“Constable Evans does,” Glynis said. “I’m afraid mine is rusty.”
“Pity.”
“So what can you tell us about Rebecca?” Evan asked.
“Nothing much. She showed up in February, I think it was. She wanted a job and we were short a girl at the time. So many comings and goings these days. When Lady Annabel was growing up, we ran the place very nicely with a staff of four and a gardener. Now you never know who is who around here—masseurs and priestesses and God knows what. Change is never for the good, is it? And Lady Annabel never was one for making good decisions. Ever since she left her first husband, she’s taken up with a succession of rotters.” She smoothed down her dark skirt. “But getting back to this girl. She arrived. I put her to helping out in the kitchen and the laundry. General odd jobs, you know. Then it hadn’t been a week but one of the staff came and told me she’d upped and left. It seems the staff weren’t too unhappy to see her go—something of a God botherer, if you know what I mean. She didn’t like the un-Christian things that were going on here and felt she had to do some converting.”
“And you don’t know where she went?”
“No idea. She just told one of the staff she was leaving, she’d had enough, and then she was gone. Didn’t even stay long enough to collect her first week’s paycheck. But then Americans are supposed to be rich, aren’t they?”