Twanged (20 page)

Regan nodded. As she pulled her wallet out of her purse, the sound of a horn honking blasted her ears. She turned to see Peace Man riding a bicycle on the other side of the road, swerving at the honk of the horn and losing his balance. He fell over into the bushes. What happened next Regan never would have imagined.

He jumped up and screamed at the passing car:

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING, YOU JERK! I WASN’T IN

YOUR WAY!”

Regan stood motionless. What happened to his seven days of silence? she wondered. I can see getting upset, but this is Peace Man!

“Miss?” The proprietor of the stand was anxious to get her attention back. And the money for the strawberries.

Regan blinked and turned back to him. “Sorry,” she said. “That was just so surprising.”

He shrugged and took her money. “I’d be mad, too. That car could have hurt him.”

When Regan turned away once more, Peace Man was riding his bicycle down the road. He might have been provoked, she thought, but that’s not a reaction I’d expect from a spiritual guru who claimed he was going to keep his mouth shut all week.

“Your change?”

Regan reached out her hand and then threw the money in her purse. Climbing back into the station wagon, she decided that when she got back to the house, she would walk around the grounds. She wanted to stroll by his camper while he wasn’t home.

Who is this guy? she wondered.

36

B
ack at the Compound, Regan found things calm and quiet. There was no one at the pool or out on the property. Everyone must be inside getting ready for dinner, she thought. I’ll just take a quick look around while I have the chance.

She parked the car, locking her purse and the strawberries and the doll inside, and hurried across the driveway to the other side of the castle. The camper was parked next to the tour bus, but the tour bus was closer to the house. Regan walked between the two of them, glanced around, and then tried the handle of Peace Man’s door.

It was locked.

Darn it, she thought.

Not wanting to be caught, she hurried down onto the beach. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the water’s edge. It felt good to let the cool salt water wash between her toes. She turned and looked back up at Chappy Castle, looming large in the distance.

This place just doesn’t feel safe, she thought. Not after everything that has happened. Anybody who wanted to get to Brigid could just walk up to the Compound’s buildings from the beach.

But then what? Regan wondered. Where would they hide?

The deck where they’d had drinks and fixed their ice cream sundaes stared out at her. Regan found herself walking toward it, propelled by a desire to look underneath. It was supported by a row of thick logs, but there was enough distance between them that someone could slip through.

Regan crouched down and crawled under the deck.

This is roomy enough, she thought, as her eyes adjusted to the change in light. It was dark and cool and the sand felt damp. She looked around. Was that a bird chirping? she wondered. This was some listening post. You could hide under here and be sheltered and comfortable.

She gazed down at the sand. What in the world? she thought as she squinted her eyes. The damp sand held an indentation of a body, like the impression left by a head on a pillow.

Someone must have been here, she thought. But when? And who? The Phantom of the Chappy Compound?

She moved closer to the disturbed sand, started to examine it, and then something else caught her eye. Right past it was a little pile of. . . what was it? Regan reached over and scooped the pieces up in her hand. She held them up to the light and recognized little bits of broken . . . eggshells.

How did
these
get here? she wondered. There were no eggs at the party the other night. Who would be peeling an egg under the deck?

Regan frowned. We were just talking about eggs today at the diner, she remembered. . . cholesterol specials . . . that strange guy who liked country music and was crazy for eggs. Suddenly Regan got a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Could he be. . . ?

Oh God, Regan thought as the pit in her stomach deepened. Was Brigid alone right now?

I have to get to her! she thought wildly.

Scurrying out from under the deck, Regan raced across the sand, past the pool area, and over to the guest house. Frantically she pushed open the door. The room was eerily empty. Where was everyone?

“BRIGID,”
she cried,
“BRIGID!”
Taking the steps two at a time, she ran to the second floor.

Brigid’s door was closed. She knocked on it sharply. When Regan didn’t get an immediate answer, she flung it open. Brigid was lying motionless on the bed, her back to the door.

“BRIGID!”
Regan screamed.

Slowly Brigid rolled over, her eyes groggy from sleep. “Regan, what’s wrong?”

With an overwhelming sense of relief, Regan leaned her head against the door frame. “You’re all right, then?”

“Yes. I fell asleep. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

Regan walked over to the foot of the bed and stood there panting.

“What is it, Regan?”

Regan held out her hand. “These eggshells were under the deck at Chappy’s house. It made me think of that weird guy in the diner. I’m sorry, I just thought. . .” Regan swallowed and struggled to catch her breath.

Brigid smiled. “Regan, I’m okay. I think we both have a right to be jumpy today.”

Regan nodded. “I got this overwhelming sense that you were in danger again.”

“I’m really fine.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Regan asked.

“Taking naps,” Brigid said.

Brigid sat up and looked at the clock. “Oh, it’s getting late. We’d better get ready for Kit’s dinner, or we’ll really be in danger!”

Regan laughed and shook her head as she slowly walked out of the room. “With Kit cooking, we’re in danger either way.”

D
own the hall, crouched in the back of the dark closet, he was breathing heavily and sweating. He had come so close to being alone with Brigid! He had watched the house and seen Brigid on the beach this afternoon. Then he had watched her friend leave in the station wagon. And the others had come out at different times to walk out on the beach.

He ‘d slipped into the guest house to talk to Brigid because he had to. He couldn ‘t control it anymore. He had to take the risk.

Then Brigid’s friend had come running in and ruined it for him! He ‘d run to hide in the closet and heard her friend say he was weird! He’d like to get ahold of her and tell her a thing or two.

What do I do now? he wondered. In the darkness he smiled. Right now I’ll just enjoy listening to Brigid, knowing she’s right outside this door.

37

BALLYFORD, IRELAND

I
’ll come down right away, love,” Malachy said. He hung up the old-fashioned phone on the wall in his kitchen area and sat at the table. Suddenly his cottage did not feel as comforting as it usually did. Not with the news he’d just heard from Eileen O’Neill. The news that Brigid had had a close call today.

He looked down at the food on his plate, his hunger gone. The potatoes and vegetables that just a few moments ago had smelled so good didn’t interest him anymore.

Maybe I shouldn’t have given her the fiddle after all, he thought. She won the contest with it but now there’s trouble. Nothing but trouble.

Why did that jerk Finbar have to make such a big deal out of it?

Malachy’s eyes teared up. I had such a good time with that fiddle. It brought such happiness into my life. I wanted the same for Brigid.

He remembered the days when she was a teenager and would come up to the cottage to play.

“Let’s practice,” she’d say. “If we’re going to perform together at all the parties around town, we have to be ready.”

Oh, Brigid, he thought. I’m worried about you and I want to hear you play again.

Malachy stood up. He grabbed his jacket off the wall and headed out the door and down into the village to Brigid’s aunt’s house, where her mother, Eileen, stayed in the summer.

Life’s too short, he thought. I’m going to ask them what they think about me flying over there and surprising her at her concert in the Hamptons.

Suddenly he found himself whistling as he rode his bicycle through the darkness.

38

I
’m ready,” Brigid announced as she came out of her room and across the hall into Regan’s. “A nap, a shower, and a change of clothes can do wonders for the spirit.”

“Oh, I know,” Regan said. She had showered as well, putting on a pair of white jeans and a short-sleeved, black cotton sweater. Brigid had a pair of blue jeans with a rust-colored belt and a white blouse tucked in. Her red hair spilled over her shoulders.

Brigid sat down on the bed while Regan did a final check of herself in the mirror. She touched up her lipstick and ran a comb through her dark hair one last time.

“Ready,” Regan said. “Are the others coming?”

Brigid shook her head as they walked out of the room and down the steps. “Hank and Teddy and Pammy came up from the beach when you were in the shower. Kieran had been asleep in his room. Anyway, Hank and Teddy went into town. They’re meeting up with some old friends of Hank’s. Kieran and Pammy went out to dinner and a movie.” Brigid paused. “I think she let him know in no uncertain terms that she wanted some quality time alone with him.”

“Ain’t love grand?” Regan joked. They walked out the door and Regan locked it behind them. The early evening was upon them. The sky was streaked with purple and red, the water looked calm, and a soft breeze was blowing. Somebody must be playing taps somewhere, Regan thought. “How long have Pammy and Kieran been dating anyway?” she asked Brigid as they ambled over to Kit’s cottage.

“About a year and a half.”

“That long?” Regan said.

“Yes. Kieran just joined our band about a year ago and he was with her then.”

“Oh. Where did they meet?”

“She’s a nurse. Kieran was in a car accident near Nashville. He was banged up and hurt his hand pretty badly. She came upon the scene right after it happened and pulled over. She took care of him on the spot. Then she never stopped taking care of him.”

“Really?” Regan said.

“Yes. Apparently he was pretty depressed. He didn’t think he’d be able to play guitar again. She forced him to do occupational and physical therapy—she still makes him squeeze a rubber ball she always has with her. She encouraged him all the way. He credits her with bringing him back.”

“She does seem like a take-charge kind of person.”

“She is. She’s even the one who found out we were looking for someone for the band. She scheduled his audition!”

“So they’re pretty entrenched,” Regan observed. “You know, I’ve saved a couple of guys’ lives along the way but it never led to any romance.”

“Maybe next time,” Brigid said with a grin.

Regan laughed. “None of them looked like Kieran, I can tell you that.”

They walked up the steps of the cottage, onto the wraparound porch, and opened the screen door.

“Hello!” Regan called.

“Come on in!” Kit yelled. She appeared from the kitchen wearing an apron over her jeans. “Welcome to Chappy’s Outhouse.”

“Oh, Kit,” Brigid replied, laughing. “This place doesn’t look bad.”

“Not at all,” Kit said. “The nice thing about it is it makes me appreciate my apartment when I get home. Now, how about a glass of wine?”

“After the day we’ve had, I think we both can use one. Right, Regan?”

“You said it.”

They followed Kit into the kitchen. The aroma of marinara sauce and garlic filled the air. The stove looked as if it had served up a few meals during the War of 1812. The sink was huge and deep, with a divider running down the middle. “I think this sink used to be the bathtub,” Kit said. “Red wine?”

They both nodded.

Kit filled the glasses, handed them over, and clinked hers against Brigid’s and Regan’s. “Cheers,” she declared.

They all took a sip. “Where are the others?” Regan asked.

“Angela is getting ready. Garrett should be back any minute. I’m afraid we have a small group tonight. By Thursday this place will be crowded again, but. . .”

“That sounds fine,” Brigid said. “It’ll be nice to just hang out.”

“Let’s go out on the porch,” Kit suggested. “We can watch the sunset.”

“I
love
this,” Brigid affirmed as they sat on the steps. “I’d like to make a toast to my two new friends.”

“Hear! Hear!” Regan said, and they all clinked glasses again. “May we share many more adventures together, just none as exciting as this afternoon’s.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Brigid laughingly agreed.

“I’d like to make a toast, too,” Kit said. “To the Melting Pot Festival. That’s something we
want
to be exciting.”

“It had better be,” Brigid said, rolling her eyes. “Or else I’m in big trouble.”

Big trouble is what I’m afraid of, Regan thought.

39

W
e’ve got to hurry!” Chappy cried. “We’ve got to get in there while it’s still light out. It’s too dangerous to use a flashlight.”

Duke looked puzzled. “But we have the headlights on our helmets.”

“What I mean is,” Chappy growled, “if the house is dark and someone
outside
sees these flashes of light
inside,
they’ll know something is up.”

“Ahhhhh,” Duke said, nodding his head in understanding.

“Ahhhhh, yourself.”

They had rendezvoused in Chappy’s study moments earlier after Duke had spied Regan and Brigid heading over to Kit’s house. Chappy was sitting at his desk with a clipboard in front of him. The mission had to be completed soon, not only because of the impending darkness but also because he and Bettina were going to a dinner party at the home of one of the women who came to Peace Man’s sessions. Chappy was dreading it. All he could think about was the original CT fiddle. If they pulled this off tonight, how could he go out and leave that fiddle at home while his fingers would be itching to play it without stopping?