The Highlander Next Door (13 page)

“Very well,” the theurgist said, grasping the door to hold it open. “Oh, by the way; did I hear correctly that you’ve hired two new officers?”

Niall nodded. “Sam found them, actually. I believe they were in his old line of work and were supposed to have arrived last night.”

“That leaves you with only one position to fill.”

“Aye. And with luck, the right man will happen along before I’m forced to hire one of the women applicants.”

“Times have changed, Niall, and keeping the peace requires more brain than brawn in this century.”

“Firearms may be great equalizers, but there were still many instances when Jack Stone would have left a scene in an ambulance if not for his brawn.”

“You can’t fight progress, my friend.”

Niall closed the door, started the truck, and rolled down the window. “I can damn well keep it out of my police force,” he said with a grin. “And if ye happen upon
my
Miss Callahan on your stroll today, maybe you could point out to her the difference between a seagull and a large bird of prey that probably would have gone after her dog if she hadn’t been holding that pie. You might also suggest that if it ever gets close to her again, she might want to give it a good douse of bear spray to keep it from returning.”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Titus asked as Niall put his truck in gear.

That made him chuckle. “You read her note. Did you get the impression she’d be interested in anything I have to say right now?”

“No,” Titus said as he stepped away from the truck. “In fact, I got the impression she wouldn’t mind spraying
you
. Enjoy today’s leg of your journey, MacKeage,” he called out as Niall gave a nod and drove away.

Niall lost his smile as he twisted and flexed his right arm, undecided how he felt about Rana healing him, then gave Shep a not-so-gentle nudge. “Ye wolfed down a whole bowl of kibble before we left home, ye big beggar; are ye deliberately trying to piss off the one person who can send me back to my original time? Because I hope ye know that would mean you’d have to live with Matt and Winter and their growing tribe of heathens.” He scowled when his obviously unconcerned passenger licked some errant egg off his snout. “Or do ye like wearing ribbons and doll bonnets and having little Fiona call ye Muffin Face?”

Niall turned his scowl to the road ahead and also tried to decide what he thought of the revelation that the new god had already grown powerful. Because even though Titus had assured him they would have Mac’s protection, Niall also knew that neither theurgist would interfere in man’s free will—which meant he was on his own should Sebastian gain control of even a small amount of the god’s energy.

Well, maybe not completely on his own, Niall thought with a grin, as Duncan and Nicholas were not bound by the same oath. In fact, both his cousin and the mythical warrior would likely relish a bit of magical sport.

Then again, maybe he should simply send
his
Miss Callahan after Sebastian.

Niall lost his grin again as he brought the truck to a stop at the main road. Why in hell had the new god given the hairclip to Birch? A forest god, Titus had called him. Well, the bastard certainly had manifested in the right place, seeing how Bottomless was surrounded by thousands of square miles of forested wilderness in Maine alone, and more than a couple hundred thousand if he included Canada. Hell, maybe he should persuade Sebastian to move his colony and the new god twenty miles northwest and let them be Canada’s problem.

Seeing the women were already setting up tables in front of the church, since their grange hall was too far off the beaten path to catch all those tourist dollars, Niall pulled across the road and parked in front of the post office.

“Oh no ye don’t,” he said, pushing Shep back over the console, then reaching into the backseat. “Today we’re going to see what kind of response ye get wearing your vest. You know, the one that says
Working police officer; do not pat or feed
on it,” he drawled, having to drag Shep up off the floor and onto the seat again. “Oh, quit your grumbling,” he said with a chuckle as he slid the vest over Shep’s head. “It makes ye look important, and little Fiona said the stitching brings out the yellow in your eyes.” He cinched the straps under Shep’s chest, making sure they were snug. “And not only will it get ye
inside
the stores and craft shops; it’s also bulletproof in case someone doesn’t particularly like being run to ground by a four-legged police officer.”

Niall got out of the truck, opened the back door, then reached inside and started gathering up all his equipment and paperwork, only to sigh when he saw Shep still sitting in the passenger seat. “Do you think I
like
walking around with a badge pinned to my chest? It comes with the job, so either man up and get out of the truck or sit there staring out the window all day watching the world go by.”

Shep crawled over the console with another grumbling growl, and Niall finished filling the box he’d brought along this morning, then set it on the ground beside his disgruntled partner. He closed both doors and crouched down, grabbed Shep’s snout, and looked the dog in the eyes. “When we meet Cole and Jake today, I don’t want ye taking it personal that they’re going to be my first officers,” he explained, figuring he’d probably better lump the two men together until he took their measure.

When all he got for answer was what he could only describe as a canine glare, Niall picked up the box and straightened with a chuckle. “At least give it a day to see if that vest doesn’t get ye into places you couldn’t go before,” he said, heading across the road. “I’m willing to bet instead of chasing ye off, the lifeguards won’t stop a K-9 officer in uniform from making the beach part of your daily patrol, and you’ll miss little Fiona less if ye spend some time playing in the sand and swimming with the children.”

Mentioning Matt and Winter’s five-year-old sprite, who absolutely adored Shep, might have been playing dirty, but it obviously did the trick, and the dog shot off down the road in the direction of the beach. Niall entered the Drunken Moose and ordered a couple of the premade breakfast sandwiches, three cinnamon buns, and a large coffee to go. He then paid the waitress, carefully arranged the food and coffee in the box, and was just starting out the door when Vanetta called his name and rushed over.

“Logan Kent didn’t come in again this morning,” she said without preamble. “Yesterday was the first day he’s missed in the last couple of weeks, and I’m worried he might be sick again. Not from my cooking,” she drawled. “More likely his own.” But then she sobered. “I called his house twice yesterday and again this morning, but he never picked up, and the Kents apparently don’t have an answering machine.”

“I’m going to Turtleback this morning, so I’ll stop and check on him.”

“Oh, thank you.” Vanetta glanced over her shoulder when a man setting plates of food on the kitchen pass-through called her name, then started backing away and shaking her head. “I don’t know why Logan doesn’t just buy Noreen a new stove. He knows they need one, so what’s he waiting for?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for Mur’s sneaky little Special Delivery Fairy to drop one off one of these nights,” Niall said, using his back to push through the door as Vanetta rushed off with a laugh. He turned onto the sidewalk to find Titus just about to enter the restaurant—the magic-maker apparently
not
knowing how to run a cookstove to make his own breakfast, as his wife had suggested he do to replace the one Shep had eaten.

“There was something I forgot to mention this morning,” Titus said, stepping away from the door and starting down the sidewalk. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just walk with you and see your new police station. So, Chief,” he went on when Niall fell into step beside him, “I hear you’ve managed to tame the mob of zealots protesting the colony.”

“I read up on the state laws and explained they’re free to protest all they want as long as they don’t interfere with traffic, trespass on private property, or physically stop anyone from going in or out of the colony. I also told them that if I get complaints they’re trying to stop vehicles to give people their message, I’ll write them citations.” He sighed as they turned down the lane. “They’re all quick to point out their right of free speech allows them to protest, but they seem to forget the colonists have rights, too, including freedom to worship the devil himself if they wish.”

“Narrow-mindedness is also a timeless and worldwide affliction, I’m afraid,” Titus murmured. “Anyway, Niall, I hope we don’t end up adding to the problem by giving your protesters another target when my Atlantean holdouts arrive in a couple of weeks.”

“They’re coming here?” Niall asked as they walked up onto the station porch.

Titus turned to him and shrugged. “They claim they’re simply not prepared to face the real world in any century, so Maximilian has agreed to let them set up their own colony of sorts here. Many islands were part of the large track of timberland my son purchased on the eastern side of Bottomless four years ago,” he said, gesturing at the fairly large island sitting some five miles offshore, “and we felt that island in particular is both isolated enough for them to be comfortable yet close enough to interact with the townspeople and acclimate to modern society at their own pace. And who knows? Maybe they’ll even start contributing.” He grinned. “I think you might find that most modern problems would benefit from an ancient perspective, which oftentimes could make all the difference between success and failure.”

Not really surprised that he wasn’t exactly sure what point the magic-maker was trying to make, Niall merely grinned back and shook his head. “I don’t think we need to worry about the protesters bothering your people, unless they start renting Ezra’s boats.”

“Or they set up a new staging ground right here in the middle of town,” Titus said, opening the door and walking into the station.

Niall gave a sigh as he followed, hoping the theurgist was only speculating and not speaking from knowledge he’d gained on a recent visit to the Trees of Life.

•   •   •

Niall turned down Logan Kent’s driveway and immediately noticed two things, the first being the new mailbox made of thin strips of wood and fashioned to look like the old beehives traditionally woven from sea grass sitting on a perfectly straight, sturdy post where the dented and rusty old metal mailbox had once stood—or rather, had leaned. The second thing was that all the potholes in the quarter-mile gravel driveway had been graded smooth and the overgrown branches that had scraped his truck on his last visit had been cut away. All of which were nothing compared to what Niall found when the house came into view and he saw the roof was in the process of being reshingled, the steps and porch decking had been repaired and painted, and the ugly plastic banking that had been wrapped around the foundation on his previous visit was gone.

There was no way Logan Kent could have done all of this all by himself in the two weeks since Niall had been here. The flagpole had been painted and straightened. The garden was tilled and already planted, he noticed as he continued looking around. There was a new clothesline in the side yard, the light color of freshly peeled cedar indicating it was only a few days old, and last year’s growth of dead grass and brush in the two-acre clearing surrounding the house had been mowed.

Hell, the Special Delivery Fairy must have decided to gift Logan with a small army of elves instead of a new cookstove, because there was no way an arthritic, recently sick, seventy-something man could have done all this work.

Logan came walking out of a fairly large shed brushing sawdust off his shirt, spotted Niall still sitting slack-jawed in his truck, and walked over sporting a huge smile. “The saw was running so I didn’t hear you drive in,” he said when Niall’s wits returned enough for him to finally get out of the truck. “What brings you out this way today, Chief MacKeage?”

“Actually, you, Mr. Kent. Vanetta was worried that you had suddenly stopped eating, since you weren’t in yesterday or this morning.”

“I got wrapped up in a project I’m working on and didn’t want to take the time to drive into town. Come on, I’ll show you,” he said, gesturing for Niall to follow as he headed back to the shed. “I’ve been setting up a saw jig so I can mass-produce beehives.”

“Like the one out at the road?” Niall asked, stepping into a well-tooled wood shop.

“Naw; that was just a fun little thing I made from scrap wood. These here,” Logan said, lifting a large square of wood off a wooden frame, “are real working hives. After I make several for myself, I’m gonna start selling them on the Internet. Only I’ll send them out as kits people will have to assemble so it’ll save on shipping costs.”

Niall looked around the shop in amazement. “How many hives are ye planning to keep for yourself?” he asked, seeing three fully assembled hives lined up against the back wall, each on a handmade wooden platform with legs, making their total height between four and five feet tall.

“Silas suggested I start out with just five my first year to see how things go.”

Niall brought his attention back to Logan. “Silas?” he repeated.

Logan nodded. “Silas French. He’s been helping me out around here the last couple of days.” He lifted the hive frame he was still holding. “It was his idea I start a beekeeping business. He said that five hives will give me a good crop of honey that I can sell at a pretty good profit right off this first year. And there’ll be even better profits the following years, since I should make more than enough to pay off my equipment investment in the first two years while still having money left over to spend.”

“Is Mr. French a friend?”

“Naw, he’s just traveling through. I was down in Turtleback visiting one of my old logging buddies a couple a days ago, and on my way home I come across this younger fella wearing a large backpack walking up the road just outside of town.” Logan gave an arthritic shrug. “He didn’t look like a tourist, so I figured he might be heading to that colony down the road from here, and thought I might as well give him a ride since I was going right by it. Turns out he’s just a guy who enjoys traveling around looking to work for room and board. You know, like a hobo.” He grinned. “He asked me if I had any stuff I needed done, and I thought, why not—figuring, how much can one man eat?”