Free Evans to Betsy by Rhys Bowen

hair back from his forehead as he left.
    “Now, Constable. Exactly how can I help you?” The voice was deep and very upper-crust. Lady Annabel must have been quite a beauty in her time but youthful curves had now given way to fat. Her rich auburn hair was impeccably styled around a large face with an extra chin or two. Her chubby hands were decorated with a lot of rings and she had a floating, flowered silk scarf at her neck. Spoiled rich girl gone to seed was written all over her.
    “Sorry to trouble you, ma’am.” Did you say “Your Ladyship” these days? It sounded very feudal. “We’ve had a report of a missing girl, so we’re going around all the likely places in the area. She’s an American college student and it’s just possible that she came here earlier this spring.”
    Lady Annabel’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “A college student? I think it’s hardly likely that she stayed here. We are what’s known as exclusive, which means expensive. Most of our guests are either famous or old or both. There wouldn’t be much here for a young person.”
    “Maybe I could take a look at your guest book,” Evan said. “Just to make sure.”

    “Of course. Come through to registration.” She led him to the other side of the building, where there was a hotel-style foyer, complete with front desk. “Show this gentleman the list of guests for the year, would you, Eirlys?” she said to the young girl sitting at the computer. “You don’t need to go back to last year, do you?”
    Evan shook his head. The girl handed him a Rolodex file. “What name was it? They’re in alphabetical order.”
    “Riesen. Rebecca Riesen,” he said. “And she probably would have come here in February or later.”
    “We weren’t exactly overflowing with guests in February,” the girl said and got a frown from Annabel. She helped Evan flip through the cards. “There’s no Riesen here. Sorry.”
    “I can’t imagine that she would have checked in under another name,” Evan said. “Of course, if she had come here with somebody—a bloke—maybe they’d have checked in under his name.”
    “I don’t recall any young couples … .” Annabel began.
    “But you don’t know his name?” the girl asked Evan. She gave him a shy but encouraging smile.
    “Do you always work at the front desk?” Evan asked. She nodded. “So you’d be the one who checked guests in?”
    “Usually.”
    Evan got out the flyer. “This is the girl we’re looking for.”
    She studied it. “I didn’t check her in. I’d have remembered.”
    “Sorry to have troubled you,” Evan said. “I thought it was probably a long shot. We don’t even know what part of Wales she went to. It’s just that she said something about Druids in the last postcard she wrote to her parents.”
    “Druids?” Annabel’s voice sounded sharp.
    “I noticed this place mentions Celtic spirituality so I thought that maybe …” He looked hopefully at Eirlys.
    “We have a resident priestess,” Annabel said before Eirlys could answer. “She leads meditation sessions and guided imagery for our guests.”
    “And what about Druid ceremonies? Any of those?”
    “At certain times of year she leads celebrations, yes.”
    “And are outsiders allowed into any of these—celebrations?”

    “On certain occasions. She’s hoping for a large gathering on Midsummer Night, and May Day is one too, I think. And she holds ceremonies outside of our community as well.”
    “May I please speak to her then?”
    “Of course. I’ll take you down to her myself.”
    “It’s all right. I don’t want to hold you up from what you were doing. Just give me directions. I’m sure I can find the way.”
    “I was planning to go down that way. I’m trying to locate my husband. He won’t carry a beeper because he claims it disturbs the psychic vibrations he gets, but that’s little use to the rest of us, who possess no psychic ability whatsoever.”
    She swept out through the revolving