Page 21

A day later, we were back at Number Three. I’d never been so grateful for our house and a regular routine. Lizzie was feeling better but still staying at home. She’d taken quite the hit to the head. She was fine, but I made her take a few days away from the bookstore. Her assistant Caro had things well in hand.

Lizzie was in the kitchen baking, which was her idea of relaxation, and I had just sat down at my desk when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

After glancing through the small window in the door, I frowned. It was Lolly and Kieran.

What are they doing here ?

We’d given our statements the day before. And like always when we were involved in an investigation, Kieran had let us listen to Jim make his case. Turned out he’d borrowed that name from a dead guy.

To protect the O’Sullivans from any blowback, he told the police everything. How he’d been a part of Carl and Sarah’s original gang. How she’d turned on them, and then thought she could pick up where they’d left off when they had finished their prison sentences. His real name was John Brady, and he had an incredibly long rap-sheet.

Carl and Sarah were working against the O’Sullivans, who he now saw as family. In his mind, he was protecting them from outside forces. In his way, he had done whatever it took to save his new family.

As for Sally, the O’Sullivans had refused to post charges against her.

Their accountant cousin was not so lucky. He would be doing some prison time. I’d learned that from Lolly. She said the O’Sullivans were bringing in a forensic accountant and new appraisers, both recommended by law enforcement.

“Morning,” I said as I opened the door. “What’s this all about?”

“I came to check on your sister,” Lolly said. “Kieran said he had some details from the case to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” I glanced over Lolly’s shoulder at him. “I thought we were finished with all that.”

“I have a few follow-up questions,” he said.

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Lolly asked.

She pushed past me, laughing as she went down the hall.

“What was that about?” I said, blushing slightly.

He shrugged. “I never know with her.”

“Well, come in. Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“Actually…” He held up two cups. “I brought you one from the pub.”

I smiled. We were both caffeine addicts. “That’s kind of you. Since your gran is in the kitchen, why don’t we go into my office?”

He nodded and followed me down the hallway and to the left. I loved my office. It had an old-school Agatha Christie feel with the period furniture to match. This had once been our grandfather’s home, and he had excellent taste. We hadn’t had to update anything.

“So, what’s going on?” I asked as we sat in the chairs in front of my desk. “Did something new happen in the case?”

“We were able to tie the gardener’s DNA to what we’d found on the priest’s robes. So we have evidence to back up the confession. You and your sister probably won’t have to testify since we have a confession.”

I took a deep breath. “That’s a relief. I wasn’t worried about me, but I’m not sure how Lizzie might have taken all that.” She was the more sensitive twin, and I didn’t think her nerves would handle a court case very well.

“Why were there no bloody footprints left at the scene?” I asked. It had been bothering me.

“They’d been standing outside on the patio, through the French doors behind the desk. So, the blood was washed away in the rain, and the priest stumbled back into the chair.”

“Did the gardener stick with his story about trying to protect the O’Sullivans?”

“He did. I’m inclined to believe him. After several hours of questioning, it was clear he’d grown protective of them because they had given him a second chance. He also used the passageways to keep an eye on things inside the estate.”

I blinked. “Wow. How do they feel about that?”

“They are in shock on all counts. As you might imagine, they had no idea of the worth of their possessions. They are already working with a new appraiser. But they’ve decided to continue with their bookings and tours.”

“I’m not sure if I was sitting on that kind of money, I’d want to go to so much trouble.”

He laughed. “Aren’t you, though?”

I shook my head. “I do well, but not billionaire well. Besides, I’m perfectly happy here in Number Three with my sister.”

He chuckled.

“What?”

“That’s one of the things I like about you. That you like a simple life. Well, that is when you aren’t trying to get yourself killed solving a murder.”

He made a fair point.

Then he sighed and frowned.

“What is it?”

“Well, I didn’t want to trouble you so soon after what happened, but I need your help.”

“Is it with a case?”

He stood and shut the door to my office.

This must be serious .

“Of sorts. One of my men was going through some footage looking for a shoplifter.”

“At Lizzie’s store?”

“No. It was at another establishment. The thing is, we noticed something else.”

“I’m intrigued.”

“Do you remember being in Kelly’s two weeks ago?”

“Yes, I was buying new wellies. With the weather here, I realized that I needed two pairs so one lot could dry out while I wore the others.”

“Right.” He pulled some photos out of his pocket.

“Do you remember seeing this man in the store?”

He pointed to a gray-haired man. I couldn’t really see his face.

“No. I don’t think so. I was busy writing my book in my head when I was there. I really wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I know. I know. But I’m on a deadline. I can’t always control when the characters want to have conversations in my head. Why? Did he steal something?”

“No. How about here? This gives you a better look at his face.” The man was standing just outside our bookstore and peering into the window. He’d glanced up at one of the CCTV cameras.

There was something about his eyes that seemed familiar.

“Who is he?”

“We don’t know,” he said. “He’s now a John Doe at the hospital. He was hit by car a few days ago. The thing is, he isn’t able, or is refusing, to tell us who he is. But we have a lot of CCTV footage of him watching you and your sister.”

I shivered. “Do you think he’s my stalker from New York?” That was the first thing that flashed through my brain.

“He has an Irish accent. It could all be a coincidence, but I find it strange that he’s clearly been watching you and your sister.”

“Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.”

“It’s a lot to ask, but I wondered if you might come with me to the hospital.”

“You want me to confront a stalker?”

One of the reasons I’d left New York was because I no longer felt safe there. Someone kept entering my apartment and moving things around. And every time I went walking around the city, it felt like someone was watching me.

After I’d returned to Texas to bury our mother, and then Lizzie’s fiancé and his daughter, I had no desire to go back to Manhattan. And I thought we’d be safe here in Ireland, but we’d both felt like someone had been watching us since we’d arrived.

“We can make it so it isn’t face-to-face, if you prefer.”

“You’ve met me,” I said.

“Yes. Which was why I thought you might want to confront him yourself.”

He was right. If this was the man who had caused me so much trouble, I had more than a few words for him.

“Just me, though. I don’t want my sister involved. At least, let me see if I can figure out if he’s dangerous or not. When?”

“Do you have time now?”

My curiosity was at an all-time high. “Yes. Let me tell Lizzie I’m helping you with something. Give me a few minutes.”

When we arrived at the hospital, Kieran stopped in front of a door.

“Before we go in, how did he end up here?” I asked him.

“Sheila found him on the side of the road when she was coming back from Dublin. He’d been hit by a car. Broke his arm. She said he was out of sorts, as in he couldn’t remember who he was.”

“Like amnesia? That is highly unlikely.”

“So, you’re a doctor now?” He smiled when he said it.

“No. But I did a lot of research for one of my books. Amnesia isn’t very common.”

“He took a pretty big whack to the head. And she said it was more as if he was confused. Are you ready?”

I nodded. “Best to just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He pushed open the door. The room was empty. Kieran backed out and checked the room number again.

Then he frowned.

“What is it?” I asked.

“He should be in there. I don’t know where he could have gone.”

I followed Kieran down to the nurses’ station.

“What happened to the gentleman in 103?” he asked.

The nurse shook her head. “He disappeared sometime in the night. Didn’t bother to check himself out. He just vanished.”

Kieran frowned.

“That’s weird, right?” I said, nervously.

“Maybe,” he said. “If he was up to no good, he may not have wanted to stick around. I’ll circulate his picture. We’ll find him.”

“Do you think we need to worry?”

Kieran shook his head. “No. If he wanted to confront you, he most likely already would have. He could just be a fan who is curious about you.”

For most authors that might help the ego, but I was annoyed. “Maybe so. I still think my sister and I should be careful.”

“That’s always a good idea.”

When I arrived home, Lizzie called for me from the kitchen. “Late lunch is ready,” she said. Mr. Poe barked. I headed to the back of the house. The kitchen smelled of cottage pie, which was one of my favorites.

“I want to eat the air,” I said.

She smiled. “It’s one of the recipes Nora gave me. Where did Kieran take you?”

I wanted to protect her, and I didn’t want her to worry about a possible stalker.

“He wanted to see if I could identify someone at the hospital, but the patient had already checked out.”

She turned and then cocked her head. “Why would you know who it was?”

“He was a John Doe,” I said truthfully. “Kieran will be circulating his picture around town. He seemed confused when they brought him in. As in, he didn’t know his name.”

“Poor man,” she said compassionately. That was my sister.

“Yeah, just keep an eye out,” I said. I showed her the picture that Kieran had texted me.

“Hmmm. I think I’ve seen him around the bookstore, but we’ve been so busy, I could be mistaking him for someone else. I’ll keep an eye out, though.

“Oh, I have something funny to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“I went out to the garden with Mr. Poe a little while ago. He sat in front of the fairy garden and grunted several times, like he was trying to talk to the flowers there. Or,” she said laughing, “it could have been the fairies.”

I laughed with her. “He’s a very smart dog, maybe he speaks fairy. Do you, Mr. Poe?”

He cocked his head and yapped.

We giggled.

I loved our little family, and our friends. Shamrock Cove was home and always would be.

But the idea that some strange man had been watching us—well, I’d be keeping a close eye on my sister. I’d never allow anyone to hurt her or Mr. Poe. Maybe it was time for me to do a bit of investigating into this strange man.

“Mercy?”

I lifted my head. “What?”

“Are you sure nothing is wrong? You have a weird look on your face.”

“Everything is fine.” And it would be. We had an idyllic life in Shamrock Cove and I would never allow a stranger to ruin it.

* * *