Crazed Reckoning, a Nick Spinelli Mystery
Page 6
Spinelli massaged his throbbing temples as he waited out Bernie’s audible breaths.
He was just about to urge Bernie to continue when he started up again. “In the meantime, my father and Emmet, the eldest son in each family, became schoolmates and best buddies. Despite the feud and their father’s demands, neither wanted to disband the friendship. They came up with a plan to satisfy their fathers and get them off their backs. Emmet and Winston agreed that their children would make good on the deal. They sealed the deal with the exchange of gold Claddagh friendship rings. Emmet had two sons, one who died at a young age and Riordan. As you are aware, my father had Mary, Shannon’s mother, and me. According to the agreement, Mary and Riordan should have married to make good on the promise and end the family feud.”
Bernie paused. Was he done with the story or realigning his thoughts? Spinelli leaned closer to the phone. “What happened? I mean, obviously, Mary and Riordan never married, right?”
Bernie cleared his throat. “As you are probably aware, Northern Ireland was not the place to be in the late ’60s. At my father’s request, Mary and I moved to England but my mother refused to leave her homestead. I was already out of high school and Mary needed to finish up her last year. We stayed with relatives until she graduated. With the political climate in such turmoil, it wasn’t safe to go back to Ireland. We stayed in England for a bit longer and Mary started college. In the meantime, Riordan flipped out. He wasn’t right in the head, to begin with, but with all the protesting between the Catholics and Protestants, he really wigged out. His father did as well.”
The rising pitch of Bernie’s voice informed Spinelli that Bernie was reliving the events as he told the story.
“Take a breather, Bernie. Continue when you’re ready,” Walker instructed.
A few more beats of silence passed before Bernie pressed forward. “My father reached the point where he wanted nothing to do with either of them. They accused my father of sending Mary away to avoid a marriage to Riordan. I believe, to this day, Emmet may have been partially right. I could see how my father did not want his only daughter to marry an extremist such as Riordan. And I’m sure Mary’s pleas to get out of the deal didn’t help matters either. While Mary and I were in England, our father grew ill and passed away. Our mother insisted we not return for the funeral and eventually, she abandoned her homestead and moved to England as well.”
“What about the finger?” Spinelli couldn’t help but ask.
Bernie’s sigh echoed through the phone. “His finger was removed sometime during the wake period. My mother always believed that Emmet or Riordan cut it off as a means to prevent my father’s soul from resting in peace. Though she could never prove how they did it without anyone noticing. I don’t think a day went by that she didn’t regret leaving that friendship ring on his finger. But he always wore it, even after the falling out. My mother believed he continued to wear it because, deep down, my father hoped to make amends with Emmet.”
“So, you’re saying that during the wake, when people milled about and paid their respects, no one noticed someone slice off his finger?”
Spinelli asked.
“Well, you have to remember, wake periods were a little different back then. My father died at home. His body never left the house until we turned it over to the church the evening before the burial. The wake period lasts from the time of death to the time the body is conveyed to the church. The body is never left unattended. Someone, usually a woman, always sat with the body. Evidently, there weren’t a lot of people around at the time his finger was cut off, probably just one person.”
“So, the finger was removed from the body while it was attended?” Spinelli’s questioning came faster with each exchange.
“Yep, sliced right out from among the rosary beads woven within his fingers.”
“Who sat with the body during the time this happened?”
“A neighbor lady. My mother found her hunched over in her chair, sleeping. She had to shake her to wake her. As the story goes, she didn’t wake easy but when she did, she was disoriented and mumbled something about a crackling sound, blinding light, and dense fog. The next thing she remembered was my mother waking her. She complained of a burning sensation in her nostrils and a strong metallic taste on her tongue. She wasn’t sure what exactly happened, but she wasted no time getting the hell out of there once they’d discovered the missing finger. She mumbled something about evil spirits as she ran out of the house.”
“What in the hell?”
“What?” Bernie asked.
Spinelli shot a glance at Walker who also wore a baffled look. “Early this morning I heard a crackling noise, followed by an acidic scent that made my nose prickle. Walker experienced something similar. I just find that kind of bizarre.”
“Hmm,” Bernie responded. A few beats of silence passed. “If you know anything about this you’d better speak up.”
The person with Bernie cleared his throat. “From the sound of it, I guess it’s possible my dad is here making good on the deal.”
“Yeah, it sounds that way,” Bernie replied.
The brief conversation on the other end of the line reminded Spinelli of the other person in the car with Bernie. “Who’s with you?”
“Davin O’Brien.”
Spinelli’s mouth fell open but no words escaped.
Marsh glanced at the copy of the marriage license and then looked at Spinelli. “That’s the name on the license all right. I guess they’re getting what they want. Shannon’s bridegroom is en route.”
“Marriage license?” Bernie repeated.
“Yeah, someone dropped off a copy of a marriage license which indicates that Shannon is to be married to a Davin O’Brien. Today,” Walker replied.
Bernie growled. Spinelli could only imagine the ‘look to kill’ he now gave Davin.
“I don’t know anything about the marriage license. I just came to see you, as the responsible generation, to discuss the deal.” Davin spat back.
“What’s the rush, why now?” Bernie asked.
“Because my grandfather is dying. He only has a few days left, tops. He blames my dad for losing his best friend, your father, all those years ago. He claims if it hadn’t been for my dad’s extremist ways, your sister wouldn’t have been afraid to marry him and make good on the deal.”
“I doubt Emmet really gave a shit about losing his best friend. He’s pissed about the damned land he wanted.”
Davin didn’t deny Bernie’s accusation. “Anyhow, my grandfather has threatened to leave everything to the university upon his death, rather than my father, unless my father can make good on the deal. You know the situation, Bernie. My dad hasn’t worked a day in his life. He’s lived off grandfather’s wealth all this time. He’ll have nothing.”
“Nothing unless Shannon marries you. You two are all that is left at present to seal the deal.”
“Yep.”
“And you’ll have nothing unless the marriage takes place. So, there’s no reason for me to believe that you aren’t part of this little plan,” Bernie accused. His tone grew stiffer with each passing syllable. “So, you know where she is, where your father is keeping her.”
“No, I don’t know where she is. I came here by myself to try to reason with you,” Davin responded.
Spinelli’s patience was about shot. “So, you’re telling us that your family planned to come here and abduct Shannon, force her to marry you to secure an inheritance and some property, as a result of a deal originally made over one hundred years ago? You do realize that unless you hide her from the world for the rest of her life, this isn’t going to work, right? I will find her, and you and your family will pay dearly!” Spinelli’s fists shook the table, nearly bouncing the cell phone over the edge.
“I told you, I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance! I thought I could reason with her and Bernie. I hoped the wealth she acquired would be enough incentive for her to help us out. According to the instruction
s my grandfather gave his lawyer, my family would get sizeable annual payments from my grandfather’s estate, commencing on the day of our wedding. The remainder of the estate would be paid out on our fifth anniversary. I just figured she and I could part ways at that time, both in a decent financial situation, and put this whole thing behind us.”
“Have you ever met Shannon?” Spinelli asked.
“No.”
“Well, if you had, you’d know she’d never go for something like this, marrying someone she didn’t love for a few dollars or over a few acres of land.”
“It’s not just a few dollars and a few acres of land, Mr. Spinelli. We’re talking tens of millions of dollars and a couple of thousand acres of land,” Davin replied in a tone much calmer, and more confident than he’d used just minutes ago. “Let me ask you this, are you sure you want to stand in the way of a secure monetary future?”
Spinelli swallowed hard as he thought about Davin’s words. Financially, Shannon would be set for life with this union. Did he want to stand in the way of her security? Once she found out about the wealth, would he even be able to stand in the way? He sighed. In his experience, money always changed everything. Even though he knew Shannon was not a material person, his fists tightened as his haunting insecurity engulfed him. He worked to tamp down his rising anxiety and refocused. “With that much money, what does Emmet need the land for?”
“It’s the principle of the matter for him,” Davin replied without hesitation.
“Bernie, you and Shannon’s mom own a couple of thousand acres in Ireland?”
“Yeah, we did at one time, but we sold off three hundred acres several years back.”
“Do you ever go there?”
“No, neither Mary nor I have been back since the day our parents shipped us off to England. We wanted nothing to do with it. The memories of the place toward the end, and our father’s untimely death there, just turned us off. But when Mary and I needed money for our kids’ college tuition, we sold some of the land.”
“I know it probably equates to a lot of cash but do I dare ask, then, why you just don’t give it to Emmet and end all this turmoil? Or sell it to him for a reasonable price?”
Bernie sighed. “I guess it’s the principle of the matter. They cut off my dad’s finger.”
Spinelli squeezed his eyes shut. Seriously. Stubbornness, passed down from one generation to another.
“Davin, call your father and tell him he can have the land if he just returns Shannon and Anna safely,” Bernie demanded.
“That won’t work.”
“Why not?” Bernie asked in frustration.
Moments of silence filled the air.
“Davin, what’s the problem? Why won’t your father agree to that arrangement?” Walker asked.
“There’s one more condition in my grandfather’s demands.”
“And that is?” Walker pushed forward.
Davin expelled a lengthy breath. “She and I are to produce a male heir in the five-year time frame. If we don’t, the remainder of the estate goes to the university.”
Spinelli’s heart leaped into his throat. Now they expected her to have children with a man she didn’t even know, to secure their inheritance. Was this just some sort of sick joke? They couldn’t possibly be serious, in this day and age.
Chapter Five
Shannon sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wedding dress lying over the back of the chair. Like many other females, she’d dreamed of her wedding day since she was a little girl. She pictured herself in an elegant white dress with a long flowing train; her arm hooked with her father’s, as he walked her down the aisle lined with rose petals. They nodded at the smiling faces of family and friends as she floated toward her handsome bridegroom. Until recently, she’d never been able to see the groom’s face. Now Spinelli waited for her at the altar, his smoldering charcoal gaze fixed on her as if she were the only person in the room. What he did for a tuxedo should be illegal. The thoughts reeling through her mind of ‘wedding’ daydreams as she walked toward him sent her cheeks to a point just below flaming. Who was she kidding? More than her cheeks flamed at the sight of him and the thought of his touch.
As a young lady, she’d pictured herself with someone totally different from Spinelli, someone quieter and reserved like her dad. Yet she couldn’t help but fall in love with Spinelli and his ‘take the bull by the horns’ demeanor. At least, that’s how he appeared on the surface. But she knew better. His thoughtful, caring, and sensitive nature had shown through on more than one occasion in the few short months since she first met him.
His relationship with the Washington children had stolen her heart. While on assignment together, they had removed the kids from their house and brought them to their new foster home. The removal incident hadn’t gone well, but the events that followed were absolutely touching. Spinelli took those kids under his wing, and to this day, went out of his way to make them feel loved; something he’d never known as a child. Raised sporadically by a young drug-addicted mother, he had been passed around from foster home to foster home. Shannon knew Spinelli would probably never say the words, but his actions let the kids know he loved and cared for them.
Shannon lay back on the bed, fully intending to allow tender thoughts of Spinelli to distract her from the upcoming events of the day. She placed her right hand over her aching chest; her heart thudded against her palm. The mere thought of him lying next to her increased the already rapid rhythm.
She closed her eyes in an attempt to fully indulge herself. The warmth of Spinelli’s love surrounded and comforted her. His masculine woodsy scent flooded her nostrils. Her extremities tingled at the mere thought of him touching her as he’d done earlier the previous day. Their lovemaking had continued from the night before, into the wee morning hours.
Spinelli, a pleasingly slow lover, almost tormented her at times as his deliberate actions often had her begging him for completion. Shannon could never quite figure which she liked more: his unbridling talent in edging her toward orgasm, his uncanny ability to hold her on the rim of ecstasy and milk it for all it’s worth, or his aptitude for knowing just the right time to push her over the edge. Perhaps it was the aftermath of their lovemaking and simply lying in his arms. On the other hand, there were occasions when Spinelli was a hurried, greedy lover. Shannon equally enjoyed these times, when his primal need was so strong, he couldn’t seem to think clearly. She relished her power over him during those times when the tables were turned. She knew just how to push his buttons to drive him to the verge of begging.
Prior to Spinelli, Shannon hadn’t had much experience with lovers, and she’d realized that from the first moment his lips touched hers he’d be her last lover. Who was she kidding? She knew from his very first dazed gaze she was a goner. She remembered that first look from him as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He had reported for duty in her department and rung his bell pretty good when he tripped and took a header into the receptionist’s desk. As Shannon helped to steady him, he worked to gather himself as he stared at her like a deer in the headlights. With each passing beat, the haziness in his gaze cleared and transformed into one of the most intense looks she’d ever encountered. His dark charcoal eyes were nearly black by the time she released his arm, and she was sure he’d seen directly into her soul. Of course, it was possible his strange transitioning gaze may have had something to do with the fall he took. She preferred to believe it was a direct result of his realization that he was staring into the eyes of his soul mate.
Shannon’s awful situation didn’t prevent the corners of her mouth from lifting upward as she thought about her and Spinelli’s zany little meet-cute. He’d been temporarily re-assigned from the homicide division to help her in social services with child placement for the holiday season. The holiday season seemed to be an extremely tough time of year for her clientele, so at times law enforcement accompanied the social workers to their home visits in the less than desirable areas in the ci
ty. During this particular past holiday season, it happened that most of her home visits took place in some pretty tough areas of town. In fact, neighborhoods Spinelli was all too familiar with, both professionally and personally.
Though Shannon prided herself on being a strong, independent woman, she still couldn’t resist Spinelli’s alpha-male tendencies. She’d thanked God on more than one occasion for his over-protective nature. And from the way things were turning out today, she hoped for the opportunity to offer another thank you.
A tear slid down her cheek. Would she ever see him again? Feel his strong arms wrapped around her and bathe in the comfort of his love? And who will take care of him if she doesn’t get out of this mess? He didn’t think he needed taking care of, but she knew better; and in her heart, she knew she was the one chosen for him.
* * * *
Spinelli grabbed the Door County visitor guide from the desk in his hotel room and flipped to the index. He skimmed his finger over the rows of verbiage until he located the words ‘Places of Worship.’ “Page 156,” he whispered before he flipped to that page. An exaggerated sigh escaped him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Walker asked as he craned his head over Spinelli’s shoulder.
“There’s got to be over fifty churches in this county.” Spinelli glanced at the clock. Nearly 7:30. How would they be able to cover that many places for any scheduled weddings?
“Well, we probably only need to cover the Catholic churches, Walker piped in. “How many of those?”
“You’re right. From the way it sounds, Emmet wouldn’t stand for anything other than a good ole Catholic union.” Spinelli glanced back at the directory. “It looks like there are about ten.”
“We can plot them out and start with the ones right here in Sturgeon Bay,” Walker offered.
Spinelli’s chest constricted. “What if it’s done already?”
“It can’t be.”
Spinelli just stared at Walker.