The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3 (12 page)

By the time I had washed my hair three times and my body a
like number of times the hot water started to wane.  I stepped out of the
shower, and before I dressed I scrubbed down the enclosure.  I sure didn’t want
the smell or dirt from the bog to ruin my hostess’s beautiful bathroom.

I threw on some cuddly sweats and worked on the tangles in
my hair.  The necklace, of which I would never complain about wearing again, I
dropped to the inside of my shirt where it nestled comfortably.

As I passed Angie’s closed door I tapped lightly.

“Come in,” her clear voice commanded.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as I entered.  She wasn’t in
bed as I expected but sitting in a wing back chair with her feet up
crocheting.  I walked over and pulled up a stool and sat down.

“I am a bit shocked seeing poor Donald.  How are you feeling
dear?”

“I have a big lump on the back of my head, welts under my
chin and have ruined my last pair of shoes, but I think I fared pretty well.”

“Paz thinks the necklace saved you,” Angie said with wide
eyes.

“I think it certainly helped, but I think it was Donald who
saved me.”

“Donald?”

“I think he’s the music I heard and the light that guided me
to the farm.  I think the light the girls saw was also Donald.  There wasn’t
enough moonlight to cause that stone to give off light.  I know you might want
to chock it up to all the gothic novels I read when I was a teenager, but I was
meant to end up in that bog.  I was meant to find Donald.  It was time.”

“Time.  Speaking of which I have a thought or two.  Do you
think that Father Michael investigating his uncle’s disappearance triggered the
attack on Bobby and me?”

“I think it’s quite possible considering that the tan man
was looking for something, and I found Donald’s wallet.  With the picture gone,
all that would have tied Donald to this place was your and Bobby’s memory.”

“Now that he has been found, do you think our troubles will
stop?”

“I don’t honestly know.  But what about the estate agent? 
Someone with money wanted this farm.”  I stood up.  “Do you want me to bring
you a drink?”

“No, I think I’ll sit a while longer then go to sleep.  Father
Michael will probably be here early, and I want to make some scones and
biscuits.”

“Wake Noelle, she’ll certainly want to be in on the baking. 
I am going down to see who the constable du jour is. Good night, Angie.”  I bent
down and kissed her cheek.

“Night, Cin. Don’t worry, we’ll buy you some new shoes
tomorrow.”  She smiled and picked up her crocheting.

I closed the door gently.  I stopped by my room to put on
some socks, as my feet were cold.  The stairs were carpeted so the girls didn’t
know I had come down until I was in the room with them.

“Hi!”

Both girls jumped and Noelle threw me that green-eyed look
of hers.  “Don’t do that!”

“What’s going on?  Is there still activity going on
outside?”  I plopped into a kitchen chair.

“All but Constable Ed has left.  He is going to watch the
house during the night.  I just got back from giving him a cup of tea,” Noelle
said.

“That was nice of you.  By the way, thank you both for
saving my life.”  I drew an arm around both girls who wiggled uncomfortably.

“No problem. Just try to stay away from the corpse pool. 
Yuck and yuck.”  Paz was still a little green. 

“While you were in the shower, Father Michael called.  He’s
coming in tomorrow.  I think he’s taking the train.  He told me to tell you,
thank you.  I called Alex.  I told him to take the laptop and webcam over to
Bobby’s house at ten o’clock in the morning, Florida time.  We’re all going to
the Café. Yes, Angie too.  We’re going to have a face-to-face interview with
Bobby.  Paz is excited.  She wants to see what my ugly brother looks like.”

Ugly wouldn’t be the best word to describe Alex, but Alex is
the younger brother and committed to pulling younger brother stunts.  He knew
all Noelle’s buttons and he pushed them well.

“Wow, you two have things all organized.  I have a problem
though.  I don’t have any shoes to wear.”

“You only brought two pairs of shoes?” Paz asked.

“No, I brought three.  The first pair I lost when I was
running to save Angie from the tractor.  The tiller cut it in half.  My tennis
shoes got covered in blood, and the patent leather ones died in the bog.”

“What size are your feet?” Paz asked.

“Nine.”

“Oh, big ones.  Sorry I can’t help you.”

“Neither can Angie or Noelle.”

“Well maybe Billy can drop by and get you a pair?”

“No, I’ll figure it out.”

“I have a pair of shower thongs.  They are big on me,”
Noelle offered.

“That sounds more like it.  I could wear them to a shoe
store.  I knew my brain child would think of something.”

Noelle beamed.

“I think we better get some sleep.  Tomorrow will be an
event I fear.” I kissed my daughter on the cheek and hugged Paisley.  They went
up the stairs.  I turned out the lights and poured myself a nightcap before
climbing the stairs after them.

~

I awoke early to the bird song that seemed to fill the
outdoors.  I opened up the window and stuck my head out.  There were all sorts
of birds in the trees, and a squirrel chattered from the big tree at the corner
of the house.  Donald had left and the animals had returned.  The aroma of
baking sped up my morning routine.  I was cleaned up and dressed in record
time.  I opened my door and was almost run over by Noelle and Paz running down
the hall.  I followed them a bit more cautiously.  Last night’s activity had
caught up with my body.  The aches and pains were tolerable, but I felt as if I
had aged twenty years.

Angie was in the kitchen and the counters were full of
cooling biscuits and scones.  Before I asked if I could help, Angie told me to
make some coffee.  Paz was sent for more wood and Noelle for a jar of
preserves. 

“All this fuss over a priest,” I commented.

“His uncle died here for heaven’s sake.”

“You didn’t kill him.  Odds are he died when you were in the
hospital.”  I finished measuring the coffee and turned the pot on.

“I just feel so bad,” Angie moaned.

“Father Michael is a good man.  He doesn’t blame Bathgate. 
He just wants to see where his uncle learned and where he died.  It will bring
him closure.”

“What’s he like?”

“Father Michael is a handsome man, likes whisky.  He seems a
bit overprotective of the female gender.  I’m not sure I buy the priest part,
too convenient.”

“Convenient?” she questioned.

“I mean he says he a priest but he seems a bit too…”

“Human?” Angie raised an eyebrow.  “Honestly, priests are
part of the human race.”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but I really don’t think it matters.”

“Let me assure you.  He’s handsome and wounded, but he isn’t
worth five batches of biscuits and two batches of scones.  Hell, Angie I saved
your life.  Twice.  And you didn’t bake for me.”  I put my hands on my hips. 
“I see how it is. You’re baking for a man.  Well go ahead and get foolish over
him.  He’ll love it.”

Angie snapped me with a dishtowel.  Then she handed it to me
and had me dry the baking dishes.  Noelle just sauntered by me and stuck her
tongue out.  She really made me laugh.  Paz barely made it in the door with the
load of wood she was carrying.

“There’s a car pulling up.  I think it’s Constable Cayne.”

“He was picking up Father Michael from the train station,”
Angie said as she nearly pushed Paz and her armful of wood over as she passed
her.

“So, Mom, is he really that handsome?” Noelle asked.

“If you like the Gabriel Byrne type.”  I yawned and drew in
my bare toes to hide them from Noelle and Paz’s running exit.

I put down my towel and walked to the porch.  Father Michael
had just got out of the car and, yes, he was in his cassock.  I don’t think
Noelle was breathing.

“Forgive me father...” Paz growled quietly.

“I don’t think I made enough food.” Angie turned to go back
into the kitchen.

“Wait here,” I instructed before I walked off the porch and
over to Father Michael

“Ms. Fin-Lathen.”  He drew me into an unexpected hug.

“Father Michael, you’re stepping on my foot,” I hissed.

He looked down and laughed, “So I am.  Where are your
shoes?”

“Long story.  I’m sorry your search had to end this way.”

“I didn’t think I was going to find him alive.”

“Come on, your new fan club awaits.  And Michael...”

“Yes?”

“Remember to eat lots of biscuits and scones.”  I patted him
on the back and led him to the porch.

“Father Michael, this is Angie Bathgate.”

“Good to have you here, Father.”

“My daughter, Noelle.”

Noelle just looked at him dreamily.

“Noelle.”

“And last but not least, may I present Paisley Price.”

“Ms Price.”  He nodded his head and Paisley curtsied.  Well
at least she didn’t kiss his ring.

“Come on inside you must be tired.”  I walked past the
awestruck girls and opened the door.  He walked in followed by Angie and
Noelle.  Paisley just stood there on the porch staring off into space.  I
pinched her.  Sorry, but this was Michael after all, not the Pope.

~

After stuffing Father Michael full of Angie’s best she took
him on a tour of the school.  The girls went upstairs, and I returned to the
Two-way River.  I thought if one had no shoes, one should go where bare feet
were a prerequisite.

I lay on the grassy dry bank of the stream and looked up
through the canopy of leaves at the sky and counted my blessings.  This was my
church: Mother Nature decorated the glade and God filled the air with peace and
wonderment.  Luke was my first blessing to recall.  In the beginning his trust
and deep love gave me a foundation in which to build my life.  My children
educated me in so many special ways.  My parents and siblings taught me how to
laugh, play most sports, knit, sew, cook and not take myself too seriously.

Luke’s betrayal and exit from our marriage hurt, but I was
healing.  God had a good track record of keeping me alive, from falling off a
ladder with a ten-foot hard landing into a marble bathtub, to my near death in
the bog.  My guardian angel must be worn out.  This last swim in the bog
probably caused the angel to give God notice.  I still thanked God and hoped he
would add some perks to keep that magician happy and back on the job.

I didn’t hear Father Michael approach, but I knew he was
there before he spoke.

“Thank you for holding on to my Uncle.  Little Paisley told
me how you held him in your lap so he wouldn’t be alone anymore,” Father
Michael said as sat down beside me.  “Noelle said you thought it was he all
along who guided you.”

“I don’t know how far your faith will let you understand
what I feel happened in the last few days.”

“Let’s not put God on a narrow path shall we?”

“Now you’re in my religion.”  I shaded my eyes as I took off
my sunglasses. Looking up at him I asked. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“I want to know everything.”

“Very well. The first evening I was here...” I retold the
events of the night as best I could.  I could see he had questions but was
holding back until I finished. When I got to the part about the mysterious
light he started to fidget.  “Problem?”

“You’re telling me fairy lights led you to the Comstocks?”

“Lord...”

His face bristled.

“Excuse me, I mean...well...when you say it that way in the
cold light of day it does sound absurd, but on my way home I also heard the music...”

“So it’s music now...”

“Do you want to hear what happened?”

“Yes.”

“Then stop interrupting.”

“So was it fairy music to go with the fairy lights?”

“How would I know what fairy this and that was, and isn’t it
pixies here and fairies...oh never mind.  The music...it made me more
comfortable.  Even in my whisky haze I felt a presence.”

“Now you’re making it up.”

I ignored him and continued, “The presence stayed with me
nudging me here and there.  Last night when I was unconscious in the bog, a
light guided the girls to me.  Noelle thinks it was the moonlight reflecting
off the crystal in this necklace, but somehow I think the light was the same
one that aided me in finding help for Angie.”

“The same light,” he leaned over as if to say something
further, but all that came out was, “humph.”  He was silent for a while and sat
back up.  “How did you end up in the bog?  Fairies...oh how about trolls, we
haven’t heard from the troll faction yet.”