Free Bonnie of Evidence by Maddy Hunter Page A

geocaching, there were scavenger and treasure hunts. Maybe this was an item that the participants never found.”
    “Didn’t I say as much?” squawked Isobel. “It’s like a piece of space junk.”
    Margi sucked in her breath. “You think aliens left it?”
    Isobel drilled me with a hard, unflinching look. “I hope this is the end of your interrogation, because whether it is or not, I’m heading for the dining room.”
    “One more question,” I ventured as I returned the dagger to its box. “Out of curiosity, how did you manage to abscond with the cache without your teammates seeing you do it?”
    “By lying to us,” Dolly accused. “She said her ankle bracelet fell off, so she wanted to run back to look for it.”
    Isobel fished the bracelet out of her jeans pocket and dangled it from her finger. “It wasn’t a lie.”
    “Hah!” spat Dolly. “You probably broke the clasp yourself, just to have an excuse. Putting it on display proves nothing.”
    “It proves that Campbells are all cheats and liars,” yelled Bill.
    “Seven o’clock!” announced Dick Stolee as he launched himself out of his chair. “Soup’s on.”
    Oh, God .
    The exodus started with subtle movements—head bobbing, weight shifts, foot shuffling—and gradually erupted into a full-blown stampede as Lucille raced full-throttle for the door with Dick Stolee hot on her heels. I leaped out of the way to avoid being knocked down by the exiting mob, flattening myself against the library table until the room had emptied itself. Etienne and Wally ran into the room like firemen in search of a fire, eyes wild, and breath heavy.
    “What was that?” asked Etienne, gasping.
    “The Iowa response to the dinner bell.” I peeled myself away from the table and dusted off my hands. “They’ve gotten so much more orderly. I hardly recognize them anymore.”
    “You call that orderly?” squeaked Wally.
    I smiled. “You should have seen them before.”
    He shook his head. “I’ll referee in the dining room. See you in there.”
    Etienne walked across the room and placed a lingering kiss in the hollow below my earlobe. “In the interest of preserving the health of arthritic knees and fragile hips, do you suppose we might suggest that guests proceed to the dining room with a bit more decorum?”
    “Good luck with that.”
    “I was afraid that might be your response.” He lowered his gaze to the table, nodding at the dagger. “A rather fierce-looking bauble. Scotsmen do love their dirks, but the packaging needs updating.”
    I groaned. “It has a very interesting backstory, which I’ll share with you after dinner.” I replaced the lid then leaned over and blew rust flecks off the surface. “I bet Isobel will be forever cleaning this stuff out of her backpack.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Nothing. Shall we go in to dinner? I’m in desperate need of a drink.”
    _____
    The hotel dining room had the look of a primeval great hall with its exposed beams, heraldic shields, and wall plaques mounted with the heads of any dead thing sporting antlers. The tables were set for either four or six guests and were strategically arranged to allow great views of the loch from any location on the floor. Most of the guests had staked out their seats already, leaving only a few empty spaces, so Etienne, Wally, and I were going to have to split up, which wasn’t a bad idea logistically.
    Maybe the three of us could preserve peace among the feuding factions.
    “You have two choices,” Etienne said in a low voice. “You can either sit with your mother, or Bernice. Do you have a preference, or would you rather flip for it?”
    “I’d rather sit with you.”
    “Not an option.”
    I ranged a look over the dining area. “I could sit with Dad. Do you see him?”
    “He’s not at the table with your mother.”
    “No kidding? Wow. He escaped. How’d he manage that?”
    “Actually, bella, I don’t see your father anywhere.”
    “He’s not here?” I looked left