Deadly Gift (14 page)

He didn’t expect her to. As soon as he had cut the motor and wedged the boat exactly where he wanted her against the dock, he jumped out himself and secured the knots. “I’ll teach you some of these as we go along,” he said absently, then flashed her a smile. “Next time we’re in a sailboat, we’ll actually sail. It’s fun. You’ll like it. You don’t seem to get seasick.”

“No, I guess I don’t get seasick,” she said.

He stood, having securely fastened the tie around the dock clamp, and stepped toward her, smiled, paused a moment, then moved a wild lock of her hair behind her ear. “You look pretty windblown,” he told her.

“I had a great time ‘seeing the area,’” she told him.

He slipped an arm around her, startling her, before she realized that Cal had come out of the office and was heading toward them. He was a tall man, sandy-haired, lanky and good-looking in a slightly awkward way; his arms were long, his hands large. He had large feet, too, and yet it all came together with a certain charm.

“How did you like your boat ride?” he asked.

“It was great. Although it was awfully cold. I’m not sure how you all stand it,” she said.

Cal smiled at her. “I have to say, you’ve got a great accent.”

“I think
you
have the accent,” she said, smiling back.

Enough flirting, however politely, Zach thought with uncharacteristic irritation. “We’ve got to get back to the house,” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “We’ve been gone a long time. Cal, if you think of anything, if you find anything, let me know right away.”

Cal nodded. “I’ve looked and looked around the office. I’ve studied that register a million times,” he said, and stared at Zach bleakly. “Eddie’s dead, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Marni came out then. She was clad only in a sweater against the cold, and she shivered, then hurried to her husband’s side and huddled against him. “You need to come and visit us in the summer,” she told Caer. “It’s nice then.”

“Yeah, and when we have a long winter, summer can be just one day,” Cal said.

Marni punched him in the arm.

“Come for it. It’s on July fourteenth and you know it,” Cal said solemnly.

Marni sniffed. “Hey, trust me, it’s better than Florida, where Zach’s from. You can fry down there.”

“Hey, watch what you say,” Zach said, feigning indignation. “We just get more than one day of summer, that’s all. Anyway, we really do need to get going. We’ll see you later.”

His arm was still around Caer as they headed toward the car. She knew that as soon as they were out of earshot, Cal and Marni were going to be talking about them.

“I don’t get it. Why do you want Cal and Marni to think you were just taking the afternoon to see the sights—with me?”

He glanced at her quickly. “I like to see people’s reactions.”

“You like to cause trouble.”

“Sometimes it’s good to stir the pot,” he told her.

“You think Cal and Marni wanted Eddie dead?” she asked.

“I think just about anything is possible.”

His grim tone surprised her.

“Does that mean…you think Amanda might actually have tried to harm Sean? I thought that—”

“I told you. I think just about anything is possible,” he repeated. “And,” he reminded her sharply, “I don’t want anyone to know right now that I’m pretty sure that Eddie was murdered or how his murderer escaped.”

He was studying her again.

She returned his stare. She had told him the truth. She
was
there to protect Sean, and she didn’t feel the need to assure him again that he could trust her. “I understand,” she told him. “And I won’t say a word.”

Sean was doing well, Zach thought. He’d spent the warmest part of the day, when the sun was high, wrapped in his heaviest coat and sitting outside with Kat.

When Zach returned, he had called Detective Morrissey, and then he and Sean had closeted themselves away and talked about what Zach had discovered on the boat.

Eventually Caer had come in to give Sean his medications, insisting that he rest for a while.

He’d made it to the table for dinner under his own steam, though, and seemed pleased to find that Cal and Marni were joining them.

As they ate, Zach noticed that Marni was as attentive to Sean as Amanda was—and judging by Amanda’s expression, she was aware of it, as well, but everyone at the table, including Kat, seemed determined to be cordial to everyone else, and the meal passed pleasantly.

Zach also noticed that Caer was watching the others just as intently as he was, as if she were trying to learn as much as she could about everyone.

Quite a nurse. Except that she seemed to be more than a nurse.

Was he crazy? he asked himself.

No.

Just suspicious of everyone. Eddie had been murdered. He didn’t need proof to know that was a fact.

Back in his room, he was still debating the same questions that had been occupying his mind for days.

Why?

Why would anyone want to kill Eddie, and possibly Sean, as well?

The business was worth a great deal of money, true. But the disbursement of that money was controlled by partnership agreements and wills, so killing someone over it wouldn’t make any sense. The same thing held true for both men’s personal assets.

He couldn’t think of anyone who would have wanted Eddie dead for monetary gain.

And Kat would clearly die before she let anyone hurt a hair on her father’s head.

Amanda stood to inherit, but it wasn’t as if she would receive a windfall. Kat would still inherit the bulk of her father’s estate.

So if it wasn’t the inheritance, what
was
it?

He put through another call to Detective Morrissey, using his cell phone just as he had earlier, not wanting anyone in the house to be able to listen in. Morrissey assured him that he had his men discreetly checking the dive shops, adding that Zach was more than welcome to double-check his efforts. So far they had come up with nothing suspicious, but they would keep at it.

Zach thanked him, then told him that he wanted to have the substance he’d found on Cow Cay checked out, promising to deliver it the next morning.

He hung up with a growing respect for Morrissey. Cops, he knew, could be jerks. He had been a cop.

He hoped he hadn’t been a jerk.

With nothing else to do, he booted up his computer, went online and started going through the newspaper reports on Eddie’s disappearance.

They’d run Eddie’s picture, but no one had called in to report seeing him. No one had met anyone named John Alden in the last few days.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would do legwork, checking on local hotels, motels, bed and breakfasts and more, hoping someone had seen or heard from a guest by that name. He would also check all the businesses near the O’Riley’s office to see if anyone had seen a stranger in the area during the relevant time frame. It seemed impossible that someone had gotten on the boat with Eddie without anyone having seen anything. Someone, somewhere, had to know something.

But the question remained: What had Eddie possessed or known that had led him to become a victim?

What?

Frustrated, Zach shut down his computer and headed out into the hallway. He heard voices coming from Bridey’s room, and he hesitated. It didn’t sound as if anything was wrong. In fact, he could hear a note of laughter in Bridey’s voice.

Heading in that direction, he saw that her door was open, so he paused and looked in.

Bridey was sitting in the loveseat by the window, Caer was at a little table, and Kat was lounging on the bed.

“Zach!” Kat leaped up and gave him a hug. “Come join us. Bridey is telling us stories about Ireland.”

“I’m sure Caer knows them all, but she’s being a dear and listening to an old woman’s ramblings,” Bridey told him. “But Zach is too serious a young man to pay heed to any of my tales.”

“Tales about what?” Zach asked.

“Leprechauns,” Kat told him.

“I have nothing in the world against leprechauns,” he said. Then he frowned and looked at Caer, asking a silent question.
Where was Sean?

Kat answered the question he hadn’t voiced. “Dad’s physical therapist is here. He’s getting a massage, and then he’s going to do some light exercise.”

“It’s good for the heart to begin exercising as soon as possible,” Caer told him.

He sat down on the bed, and Kat plopped down next to him, ruffling his hair, just like any kid sister. Caer watched them, and he was surprised when a veil seemed to come over her eyes, and she looked away quickly, almost as if she felt she were intruding.

“The thing of it is,” Bridey explained, “as I was telling Kat, that folks have gotten all confused about the little people these days. They’ve made some awful films, depicting them as evil. Now, they
are
tricksters, I admit, and thrifty. They hide their treasure, but they only do that, you see, so Ireland herself can hold on to her riches. If you catch a leprechaun, he must be honest with you, but he knows the loopholes in the rules, and he’ll take advantage of them if he can.”

“Okay, I’m confused,” Zach told her. “If I catch a leprechaun, do I get to follow a rainbow to a pot of gold or not?”

“Perhaps. But it’s almost impossible for a man to catch a leprechaun. You see, he cannot escape if you remember to keep your gaze upon him, but the second you look away, well, then he escapes, and that is that.”

“What about banshees?” Kat asked, giggling.

“Ach,” Bridey said. “’Tisn’t laughing you should be. Banshees, well, they are the ghosts of death, don’t ye know? When you hear the wind howling like a scream, when the darkness and shadows are all around, then you know the banshee is comin’ and all need to take care.”

She spoke with such grave seriousness that even Zach was startled, and her words were greeted with a moment of silence.

But then Caer said, “Now, Bridey, wait a minute. ‘Banshee’ from the Gaelic
bean sidhe,
means ‘woman of the faerie mound.’” She looked at Zach and smiled, as if a little bit embarrassed to be so knowledgeable about the old legends. “It is traditional to keen at the death of a loved one, just as it’s traditional to rejoice—with a fair amount of drinking—at the life they lived. Some said the banshees were faerie women who had lost their own lives tragically when they were young, so they could join the keening for those who passed over.”

“Really?” Kat said. “I saw a movie with a banshee in it once. She was an ugly old hag.” She shuddered.

“Excuse me, but that’s just not true,” Caer said.

“Well, now, that is part of legend, too,” Bridey said. “The banshee is sad, for she died too young, and yet she is also kind and generous, for she took the place of another, who needed to rest. She must always stay as she is—remain a banshee—because it would be a terrible sin to force another into her position if that person were evil and cruel. The banshee’s role is to ease the journey, so she must be patient and kind. Evil people in life are just as evil when they die.”

Caer cleared her throat. “That’s one of the legends, aye. The banshee has a serious role in the balance of life—and death. Death is a new beginning, as frightening as being born into this world. A babe comes into this world with a mother to hold it. Into the next world, we go alone. Or so they say.” She shook her head as if to clear away dark thoughts and turned to Zach. “The old Irish tales are really beautiful, you know. They explain life, but they also give it a magical twist. And don’t we all need a little magic?” She rose suddenly. “Kat, I’m going to go downstairs and see about your father.”

Kat nodded. “Good idea.” She yawned. “Aunt Bridey, I think I’m off to bed. I’m tir—”

She broke off suddenly, shivering. Zach, still sitting at her side, actually felt the tremor that rippled through her.

“What?” he asked her anxiously.

“I was just thinking…”

“What?” he repeated.

Caer had paused to listen.

“The day Eddie went missing…” Kat began.

“It was a perfect day, according to the papers. No storms on the horizon, light winds,” Zach said.

“The papers are right. We haven’t had a real storm yet this season, knock on wood, but the night before…well, it was strange,” Kat said.

“What was so strange?” Bridey asked, her face knitting intently.

“I dreamt about the wind howling and the sea churning,” Kat said.

“Well,” Caer said lightly, “we all have dreams.” She looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, “Was—is Eddie Irish?”

“Irish by association, at least,” Bridey said.

“Imagine that,” Kat said to Zach. “I dream in Irish.”

“Well, you
are
Irish,” he pointed out.

“I think my mom was what you call an all-American mutt,” Kat said, smiling.

“Ireland is in your veins,” Bridey told her firmly. “And proud you should be of it.”