Whispers in the Mist

Copyright Information

Whispers in the Mist: A County Clare Mystery
© 2016 by Lisa Alber.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First e-book edition © 2016

E-book ISBN: 9780738749723

Book format by Bob Gaul

Cover design by Ellen Lawson

Cover image by iStockphoto.com/18485054©northlightimages

Editing by Nicole Nugent

Midnight Ink is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Alber, Lisa, author.

Title: Whispers in the mist / Lisa Alber.

Description: First edition. | Woodbury, Minnesota : Midnight Ink, an imprint

of Llewellyn Worldwide, Ltd., 2016. | Series: A County Clare mystery ; #2

| Description based on print version record and CIP data provided by

publisher; resource not viewed.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016017776 (print) | LCCN 2016007592 (ebook) | ISBN

9780738749723 () | ISBN 9780738748962

Subjects: LCSH: Teenage boys—Death—Fiction. |

Murder—Investigation—Fiction. | Mute persons—Fiction. | Family

secrets—Fiction. | Ireland—Fiction. | Psychological fiction. | GSAFD:

Mystery fiction.

Classification: LCC PS3601.L3342 (print) | LCC PS3601.L3342 W55 2016 (ebook)

| DDC 813/.6—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016017776

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Acknowledgments

I’m honored that I get to thank Terri Bischoff and Jill Marsal. Thank you!

Whispers in the Mist
was a long time in coming, and many people provided invaluable feedback along the way. Cheers to you! Michael Bigham, Cindy Brown, Tracy Burkholder, Jeannie Burt, Dawn Caldwell, Debby Dodds, Warren Easley, Sharon Eldridge, Holly Franko, Susan Gloss, Jennifer Goodrick, Wendy Gordon, Alison Jakel, Kassandra Kelly, Becky Kjelstrom, Evan Lewis, Janice Maxson, LeeAnn McLennan, Angela M. Sanders, and Kate Scott.

Thanks to D.P. Lyle and Chris Ginocchio for their medical insights.

I’m indebted to Elizabeth George and the Elizabeth George Foundation for providing me with time.

A
UTHOR’S
N
OTE

I traveled to Ireland for the first time for fiction research in 2001. Since then I’ve visited the country three more times. With each visit, I become more savvy and better at knowing what questions to ask.

That said, I’m the first to admit that some aspects of Garda Síochána hierarchy confound me. For the series, this means that Division Superintendent Alan Clarkson, Danny’s boss, works a position that doesn’t exist. What I called garda officers in
Kilmoon
are actually referred to as DOs—detective officers. (In England, the equivalent officers are DCs—detective constables.) I’ve corrected the latter error for
Whispers in the Mist.

I’d like to give a special shout-out to my Garda besties, former Detective Sergeant David Sheedy and Detective Sergeant Brian Howard. Thank you, thank you!

As I continue writing and researching, I’ll continue to learn—which is one of the fun aspects of writing this series. Meanwhile, literary license covers all breaks with reality, some purposeful, some not.
Thank you.

To Arlene Joyce Alber, my mother,

Who inspired my love of books and reading.

In memory of her memory.

Wednesday

There is special providence
in the fall of a sparrow.

William Shakespeare

There was always a voice within the fog; from ancient times its wet hiss could cajole, could fool an innocent into Grey Man’s grasp. Grey Man brought death, everyone knew that. Locals in Lisfenora village, County Clare, had always known what haunted the fogs that rolled in off the Atlantic.

So it went without saying that on a Wednesday afternoon, mid-September 2009, locals marked the day Grey Man spread its moist shroud over sheep, rock walls, and pocked limestone along the Irish coastline. Local lore about the predatory faerie that oozed its way onto land when the fog rolled in sent children to their mammies’ beds in fright for their lives. In the fogs that lay thick over the land, anyone might catch a glimpse of a figure with a cloak made of swirling mists. It might arrive anytime to cling to the land with sinister tendrils, waiting for the right moment to snatch an innocent soul into its gloom.

Later, the most superstitious of the locals claimed to have felt a tingle along their spines and a few hairs risen on their necks.

And later still, all of them would ponder Grey Man within their midst.

ONE

A
BREEZE BUFFETED DANK
mist against Danny Ahern, sinking a chill deep into his bones where regret had already started to calcify. Standing at the threshold of the house into which he had carried his bride and later their wee ones, he wavered, closing his eyes. This, the scene of the slow, corrosive death of his marriage.

On a silent exhalation, he opened his eyes and pushed open the front door to the sound of wailing from one of the bedrooms and screeching from the kitchen. Mandy ran into the living room, her gaze clouded with panic.

“Mam!” She skidded to a halt upon seeing Danny. “Da, you’re here!”

“You bet I am. Every day, all the time.”

Mandy had called Danny to inform him that her ride to school had cancelled and Petey was acting scared and Ellen had rolled over instead of getting out of bed.

One of Ellen’s bad days, in other words. They might both be to blame for the failed marriage, but he was the culprit for Ellen’s current mood. He’d moved out a year ago, and he was certain Ellen remembered the exact date as well as he did. September 8, 2008. After two long years of turmoil and waning patience on both their sides, he’d finally admitted that he was the reason she wasn’t healing. His very presence rubbed her the wrong way, intensifying her guilt over their youngest daughter’s death. Beth had fallen from a jungle gym—an accident—but the extended emotional aftermath had worn out their marriage.