Page 7 of The Tides of March (Moon Murder Mysteries)

Six

G lory to the gods, the skies finally cleared and the sun came out after four days of nonstop rain. Ronan was glad to see Tony sitting upright and attempting to walk, but the cottage felt even smaller with another man knocking about. And Ronan was too aware of every beautiful inch of that man.

“Why don’t I put out a blanket so ye can read in the sun for a bit? Some fresh air will do ye good,” he suggested after helping Tony to the toilet and the sink to freshen up.

Like Ronan, Tony kept his body and his bunk tidy. But the lad had no shame and he certainly wasn’t shy.

The lad also had impeccable manners so Tony had asked if Ronan minded. But Ronan, being an insatiable idiot, insisted he didn’t. He coveted every glance and paid for them dearly, but Ronan couldn’t resist staring and imagining what Tony would taste and feel like. It was driving Ronan mad and wearing him down, but Tony still needed constant supervision and assistance. His energy was depleted after the simplest task and he would nod off at the most inconvenient times.

Tony couldn’t do any harm to himself on a blanket on the grass, Ronan had reasoned. And Ronan could do with a brisk walk with the dogs so Tony dressed and a blanket was laid out just a few feet away from the cottage door.

“I won’ go far or be long,” Ronan told Tony as he helped him lower onto the blanket.

“I’ll be fine!”

“I’m sure ye will be.” That didn’t stop Ronan from stomping back into the cottage for another blanket and tucking it around Tony’s waist. “Will that be enough?” he asked, pointing at the book and the Thermos of tea. “Ye usually read three or four books in an afternoon.”

“Stop it. I have the Odyssey and can entertain myself for an hour. If I get bored or the wind gets to me, I’ll go inside.”

Ronan grimaced at the house, concerned about the distance and the steps. The further Ronan went and the longer he was away, the weaker Tony got. His little human battery didn’t last long when Ronan was on hand and drained even faster when he left the cottage.

“I’ll probably just take a nap, so I won’t even notice,” Tony mused, giving Ronan’s thigh a shove. “It’s a beautiful day. Go and enjoy it with the gang,” he commanded with a flick of his hand. That quick, little gesture alerted the dogs and they sprang into action, barking and prancing excitedly. “Maybe I’ll be able to join you soon,” Tony said with a hopeful look at Ronan.

“Aye. That’d be nice.”

He saluted Tony as if he hadn’t just knocked Ronan’s world onto a different axis. His entire universe had tipped onto its side and Ronan was dazed, as if he’d just taken a brick to the side of the head as he set off.

What could be better than long walks with Tony?

Ronan couldn’t think of anything and imagined pointing out various landmarks and facts as he headed out with his dogs. Fergus and Flynn led the hunt, galloping into the waves as the rest of the pack followed. Ronan could picture Tony, laughing as he chased them.

The idea didn’t seem all that impossible and Ronan was looking forward to an outing with Tony until Flynn alerted him to the presence of something nefarious in one of the tide pools. Ronan’s hackles were raised as he approached and he let out an angry oath when he spotted the corpse. It appeared to be a young man and Ronan resisted the urge to race back to the cottage and check on Tony.

“Back off!” Ronan ordered the dogs as he went to get a closer look.

All that was left was a gangly pile of pale, bruised limbs, a scrap of net, and strands of seaweed. It had been several decades since Ronan had seen a dead human and it was even more of a shock, seeing one that looked so much like Tony. The young man was tall and lean, with dark, wavy hair and thick, black lashes that fanned along his cheeks.

Another angel had washed up on Ronan’s shore but he was too late to save this one.

“Better call Winston,” Ronan said with a heavy sigh.

It was always a headache whenever the Coast Guard got involved and Ronan hated having all the extra bodies stomping around on his beach. But there was nothing for it as Ronan considered the lifeless young man. He would need to be processed and moved before the tide came in and the lad’s soul howled for justice. Ronan could almost hear it on the wind as he stared at the body, sick in his own soul at the senselessness.

He didn’t like the strange welts dotting the young man’s back and limbs and Ronan didn’t need to be a cop or a scientist to know that nothing native to the Chesapeake Bay had made them. Once again, Ronan was gripped by the urge to make sure Tony was safe, then barricade him inside, away from the incoming tide.

“I’ll be right back, lad. Gonna send for help,” Ronan told the dead boy, then hurried back to the cottage.

“What happened?” Tony asked when Ronan stomped up the hill, breathless and sweating despite the breezy morning.

“Time to get ye back inside. Found a body and need to call Winston,” he said as he lowered and reached for Tony.

“Hold on!” Tony caught one of Ronan’s hands and held onto it. “A body?”

“Aye.” Ronan nodded, staring at their hands. “Gonna call the Coast Guard but we better get ye in first.”

“No way! Go make that call. I’ll be fine.” Tony’s head swung toward the door and he released Ronan’s hand, not that he cared.

“The Coast Guard’s about to storm my beach and they’ll wanna question ye if they know ye were here,” he warned but Tony gasped.

“So? I’ll tell them I didn’t see or hear anything until you told me. I haven’t done anything wrong and I want to see what happens. Can you move me closer?”

“Closer?” Ronan finally straightened and rested his hands on his hips. “Ye wanna get closer to a dead body?”

“It’s not like I have somewhere else to be or anything else to do,” Tony replied flatly. “And this might be something that Nox and Nelson will want to know about,” he added but Ronan shook his head.

“They can read the report. I’m not moving ye closer. I don’ want ye out in the elements longer than ye need to be and ye’ll wear yerself out.”

“Fine. I’ll stay here but I don’t want to go inside yet.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest defiantly but his color was already peaked and his eyes were looking heavy. He shivered as the wind ruffled his hair and for a second, Ronan saw the boy in the tide pool. “Go make the call,” Tony urged, shaking Ronan back to the present.

“Aye.” He offered Tony a quick bow and hurried up the steps, but risked a glance over his shoulder. Tony was shielding his eyes and stretching, attempting to see over the dunes and the tall grass. He was alert and alive but Ronan pictured him on the beach, lifeless and covered in those evil-looking wounds. “Ye sure ye wouldn’ prefer to come inside where it’s warm? I’ll put on the fire and ye can listen to Dean,” he offered, hoping Tony would bite. He was particularly fond of Ronan’s old Dean Martin records but Tony just waved him off. “I’ll get ye a thicker sweater,” Ronan sighed in defeat.

An hour later, it was just as Ronan had predicted: several Coast Guard boats littered the shore as cadets and dogs searched the safer parts of the island. Ronan had locked up his pack and was looking on as a coroner’s team processed the young man’s body. He had called MacIlwraith after calling Winston and the young professor was concerned as well and already making inquiries of his own.

“Was passing by your cottage and noticed you have a visitor,” Winston said when she joined Ronan. “Stopped and had a little chat with Tony and he seems like an interesting fellow.”

“He’s alright, I suppose. Got nothin’ to do with this,” Ronan muttered, tipping his chin at the activity on the beach.

“Probably not,” Winston agreed absently, engrossed as she watched them lift the victim into a body bag. “Just didn’t know you had friends or that you took guests at the cottage,” she said with a dubious snort.

Ronan shrugged. “He wasn’ me friend but I said he could use the place while he recovers.”

“From what?” Winston frowned in concern as she looked in the direction of the cottage.

“Nothin’ serious. Wore himself out with a little too much work so they thought a break would do him good.”

Winston shot him a skeptical look. “Hmmm.”

“What’s that mean?” Ronan asked and Winston shook her head.

“Not where I’d send my friend if he needed some rest and relaxation.”

“Too bad Tony wasn’t yer friend, then,” Ronan said, dismissing the subject. “Ye need me fer anything else or can I go about me business? The wind’s gettin’ brisk and Tony’s probably ready to go inside.”

“He can’t manage on his own?” Winston asked, once again looking concerned but Ronan waved it off.

“Not at the moment, but he’ll be back on his feet soon enough.”

“Go ahead. I’ll check in when we’re done here,” Winston said and Ronan gave her a salute and headed off, wishing the lost lad peace and safe travels.

Tony had plenty of questions when Ronan returned and carried him inside.

“Who was he?”

“How the hell would I know?” Ronan asked, leaving Tony next to the bed. “He wasn' wearin’ any clothes and his name wasn’ tattooed on his body.”

“What do they think happened?”

“Don’t think they can tell yet. All I know is a lad died and he’s here now.”

“Holy shit,” Tony whispered. “When did it happen and how do they think he got here?”

Ronan gave Tony an impatient scowl as he went to turn on the kettle and start a fire. He was worried that Tony had been out too long. But for once, Ronan was chilled to the bone after seeing that poor lad and was deeply troubled by how much he looked like Tony. It was too easy to imagine Tony being zipped into that body bag and Ronan wanted answers too.

“I’ll ask them to forward ye the report,” Ronan muttered at the stove.

Tony wasn’t fazed and made a thoughtful sound as he rubbed his chin. “You think this could have anything to do with that demon kid who attacked us?”

“Aye… It might,” Ronan conceded slowly. “If that wasn’t the work of somethin’ natural,” he cautioned. “But I wouldn’ worry about it yet. Let the Coast Guard decide whose problem the poor thing is.”

“You’re probably right,” Tony said, yawning as he pulled the rest of his layers over his head and shoved his jeans down. He stepped out of them and tried to retrieve them from the floor but fell against the side of the bed.

Ronan let out a weary groan as he crossed the cottage. “Let me,” he said and lifted Tony, easily sweeping back the covers. He tucked Tony in and gathered his clothes. “We’ve got enough troubles of our own.”

A soft chuckle slipped from Tony as he wiggled his shoulders and pulled the covers up to his neck. “That is true. Why am I still as weak as a newborn kitten and how do you get rid of a pesky human?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Ronan concurred and went back to preparing their tea. He should have known that the cottage was too quiet and wasn’t at all surprised to find Tony snoring softly by the time the pot was ready. “Just as well.” Ronan prepared himself a cup and went to his chair by the fireplace.

Once again, he found himself building the fire up until the room was uncomfortably hot, but Ronan couldn’t chase away the chill he felt whenever he recalled the sight of that boy in the tide pool. Nothing about it seemed natural and Ronan was afraid that the incident was somehow connected to Tony’s arrival on the island. It was all too much of a coincidence: so many strange things happening so close together when damn near nothing ever happened on Pooles Island.

“Nope. Don’ like it one bit,” Ronan stated in a low rumble, not wanting to disturb Tony. Their walks on the beach would have to wait, unfortunately. “Gonna do what we can to keep ye inside for the time bein’.”