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“Exactly,” agreed Hannah. “That’s what Lottie said.”

“Who’s Lottie?” Mark was ever the journalist.

“Oh, just a person who works here. She’s let me use her office this morning what with all this going on.” She twisted the cord around her fingers. ‘Just a person who works here’ was a thoroughly inadequate description, but she didn’t have time for that now.

“Well I’m grateful to her,” said Mark.

“What’s the latest at your end?” Hannah asked, her pen poised.

“There’s not a lot more than there was when I spoke to you last night,” he confirmed, “but I do now have a contact name for you at the Met.”

Mark read out the name and number of the detective. “Thanks,” said Hannah.

“This is a pretty good time for you to be ensconced in a castle hundreds of miles from London,” mused Mark. “But I’m so sorry this has happened. I didn’t want to ruin your holiday, especially after the last few months. But I couldn’t not tell you.”

“Of course not,” Hannah reassured him.

“Aren’t you due back in London tomorrow?” he asked.

Hannah looked at her watch. It was the twenty-third of December now, and she had been due to travel back on Christmas Eve. “Technically, yes.” She turned her head to look out of the window. “But I’m not sure the snow is going to permit much travel in the coming days.”

“It may not be such a bad thing, you staying up there,” said Mark. “This might be just another keyboard warrior, a crank. But it might also be a genuine threat, and I think you’re safer up there.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

LOTTIE

Once the initial rush of enquiries was over Lottie returned to the cottage to take a shower and put on clean clothes. She knocked gently on Freya’s door.

“Love,” she said in a low voice. “Do you want some tea and cereal?”

There was a pause, before a sleepy voice confirmed that she would like that. Lottie smiled. She was pleased that despite Freya’s sometimes spiky exterior, she still let Lottie look after her. Not unlike a certain broadcast journalist, she reflected. She bit her lip, feeling for Hannah and her frightening situation. She wished there was more she could do.

Lottie delivered breakfast to Freya, who yawned and spoke languidly. “So, what’s the deal with that uni friend of yours?”

Lottie rolled her eyes. “Nothing,” she lied. “Just someone I knew a little bit years ago.”

“You said that before. But she didn’t look like someone who just knew you a bit a few years ago.” Freya hitched herself up on her elbow and gave Lottie a piercing stare.

“I think you were too busy working to notice anything.” Lottie started picking up items of clothing from the floor and folding them neatly into a pile.

“I’m not blind, Lotts. There was something there.” Freya took a slurp of her tea.

“Two sugars, just as you like it.” Lottie picked up three mugs and four bowls, all of which contained remnants of cereal and milk. “You know, you could bring your crockery downstairs from time to time.”

“You’re blushing,” said Freya with a grin.

“Stop changing the subject.” Lottie knew Freya was right. But she didn’t really want to talk about Hannah right now, especially not to Freya. “I’ve got to go back to check on the guests, so I’ll see you later.” She took the bowls and mugs to the top of the stairs before calling out. “If you go out in the snow, make sure you wear proper boots and plenty of layers.”

“I’m twenty-one!” exclaimed Freya.

Lottie smiled to herself. Freya would always be a baby to her.

Once back at the hotel, Lottie caught up with Danny, who was scratching his head with one hand and twirling a screwdriver with another next to the generator that lived in the basement. This was not a good sign.

“No luck?” Lottie asked the obvious question.

“Nope, not right now. It looks like condensation has got into the circuits and it’s all rusted.” Danny grimaced.