by T K Eldridge
“Blues are running now, right?” Emlen asked. “I’d like to invite myself to go along with you if that’s okay?”
Driving down the road, Cullen glanced over and smiled. “Are you really this perfect? Smart, beautiful -and- you like to fish? Next you’ll tell me you’re a Red Sox fan and I’ll have to marry you.”
They both laughed as he headed back towards her cottage.
Chapter Seven
Joel watched the truck pull away and let his shoulders sag. The weight of his knowledge was almost more than he could take after seeing her again. Heading back inside, he gathered a few things and sat down at his table once more. Now that the girl was back, he had arrangements to take care of, to make sure the next in line would be ready when they came for him.
“I failed your mother, Emlen, but I won’t fail you. I’ll see that your Garda is one worthy of the task.” Joel whispered to himself as he sealed the letter with red wax and the imprint of his signet ring. The ring and the letter went into a small box and that was tucked into one of the many hidden niches in his house. Sitting and looking out at the water, he watched the sun start to set before he pulled out his phone and made the call.
“Garda DeSantis, it’s been a long time.” the voice answered.
“Aye, it has. The girl is back, and she still wears the druid egg,” Joel replied.
“Splendid. As long as she stays subdued, there is no need for action.”
“She’s investigating her mother’s murder. I’ve chosen my successor in the event that her being back here brings events into play once more.”
“Understood. The O’Brien boy, correct?”
“Yes, Your Eminence. Cullen. He’s already invested, so it won’t take much to get him to commit.”
“Your judgement has never been in question, Joel. Camille’s death is not on you. You were to protect the child, not the mother, and you did. Keep us informed as to the progress. Beannachtaí ar do shon.”
“Blessings unto you as well, Your Eminence. Good night.” Joel’s hand shook a little as he set the phone down and rubbed his face. He was getting too old for this. The games and power plays got more difficult as time wore on. He just hoped he had the time he needed to get things in place, now that she was back. Her question about his health had every hair standing up on the back of his neck. He knew he was healthy for a man of his age. It could only be her gift, giving him a warning.
Joel pushed to his feet and headed deeper into his home. The list was long, and he was running out of time.
Chapter Eight
Four days later, Emlen was dressed in jeans, boots, t-shirt and sweatshirt, a cooler in hand and a bag over her shoulder, standing outside and waiting for Cullen. The sun just started to tint the dark edges of the horizon, the chill of the ocean breeze making her grateful for the sweatshirt. She found herself excited about this trip - it had been a few years since she’d gone fishing. The last time was with Brad and his friends, who had been more interested in partying on the boat than actually fishing.
Cullen pulled up and she put the cooler in the back of the truck, tucking the bag between her feet as she settled into the cab.
“Excited?” Cullen asked.
“Yeah, actually I am,” Em replied, grinning. “I packed a picnic lunch for the three of us.”
“Well, it’ll just be the two of us today,” Cullen replied. “Joel had tickets to see the Sox play so he headed into Boston. It’ll be just us.”
“Well, more sandwiches and beer for us then!”
“I hope it’s good beer and none of that watered-down cheap crap, Cullen threatened, laughing low. “I’m Irish, I won’t drink bad beer.”
“Don’t worry, O’Brien. I got a couple of different craft beers and I didn’t buy canned Guinness because I remember you making faces at the commercial the other day.”
“Observant. Is that part of your investigative reporting training?”
“Naw, just a skill I learned. I picked up a lot of cop-type skills over the years. See, when you have bodyguards around as a kid, you emulate the adults around you. When I was a teenager, I got them to take me to the firing range and teach me how to shoot. I got hand-to-hand training and everything. It’s been useful on a few stories I was working on.”
Pulling up at the pier, Cullen turned to look at her. “I’m glad to hear it. We can hit the range sometime if you like?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Now, which boat is yours?” Emlen asked, gazing out at the collection of pleasure boats and working craft.
Pointing to a boat about halfway down the pier, he grinned. “That’s my baby. A Stingray Cuddy cabin cruiser. Why don’t we stop and get the bait at the shop there first?” A shack sat on the right side of the pier, stacked with lobster traps, netting and a wooden barrel full of rods.
“Good plan. Kinda hard to catch fish without bait.” Emlen pulled the cooler out of the truck and slid the bag over her shoulder. “You got the rods?” Cullen held up the bag with the gear and reached out a hand to take hers. Fingers entwined, they stepped into the shop.
“Frankie! Hook us up, man!” Cullen called out as he headed over to the rough wood counter just inside the door. “Going out for some blues and whatever else we can catch.”
The man behind the counter was easily early fifties and about that many pounds overweight. Bald with a tangled beard that hung down his chest, Frankie waved jovially to Cullen. “Pail or bucket, Cull?”
“Bucket!” Emlen called out. “We’re going to catch our weight in fish.”
Frankie’s gaze went to Emlen and his smile faded a little. “Who’s the lady, Cull?”
“This is Emmy Baldwin, my girl. Taking her out on The Colleen today.”
Emlen got a little thrill from Cullen’s statement and grinned up at him before turning to Frankie. “Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Untangling her fingers from Cullen’s, she offered a handshake to Frankie - but Frankie just stared at her, not reaching for her hand.
“You from ‘round here?” Frankie asked, eyes narrowing as he examined her face. “Look kinda familiar.”
Letting her hand drop, Emlen glanced from Frankie to Cullen and back. “No, from Boston area mostly. Just moved to town recently.”
“Got that bucket, Frankie?” Cullen interrupted, stepping in front of Emlen, breaking Frankie’s stare. “We want to get out on the water before the sun comes up.”
Emlen stepped back closer to the door, her own attention now locked firmly on Frankie as he put a plastic bucket of bait on the counter and rang up the sale. She watched through the slats of a shelf, making it difficult for Frankie to see her, and he did keep trying to get a better look at her while handling the bait sale. Finally, she slipped outside and shifted so she could watch through the edge of the window. As Cullen stepped out, she kept her gaze on the window and muttered, “The way he was watching me was creepy.” She turned to walk with Cullen as Frankie disappeared towards the back of the shack.
“Yeah, it was a little odd, but then Frankie’s always been a little odd. Joel brought him in a few times for drunk and disorderly, had him sleeping it off in the jail at least three times a month. Then his father died and left him the bait shop and he cleaned himself up enough to keep the business going.” Cullen led her to the boat and helped her aboard before handing her the gear bag. “Here, stow this over there by the bench and I’ll get the lines.”
Tucking the bags and cooler against the bench, Emlen caught the first rope and coiled it up, stepping back as Cullen jumped aboard with the other. He coiled it, tucking it away before heading to the console and starting up the engines.
Dropping into the second seat near the console, Emlen glanced back at the pier as they pulled away and spotted Frankie standing a few feet from the shack, a phone to his ear. A shiver ran through her as she looked away towards the open ocean.
* * *
“I swear, it was her.” Frankie said into the phone. “She had blue eyes and dark hair, but she looks just like her mother.”
“You still need to finish the job,” the voice replied. “Take care of it. Once and for all.”
“Yes, sir, I will.”
“And don’t fuck it up this time, or you’ll be lying right next to your Daddy.” *click*
Frankie looked at the phone and then out to the boat heading to the open water. He had plans to make and things to do.
Chapter Nine
A fist slammed down on the mahogany desk, the heavy signet ring leaving a gouge in the wood. “I thought you said she didn’t have any memories! What the hell is she doing back in that godforsaken shit hole if she doesn’t remember?” Judge Jackson glared at his guest.
A pampered hand slid over a silk-clad leg as the woman sitting across from him smoothed her pants, the glint of gold and diamonds sparkling in the lamplight. “She doesn’t remember, but she still owns the house in the Cove. It’s probably just sentimentality. Remember, she’s recovering from a broken engagement.”
“Still trying to keep your granddaughter alive, old woman?”
“Of course. The sheer amount of money I’ve spent on that girl, I’d like to see some return on my investment.” Emilia Brewster swirled the drink in her hand.
A low chuckle and the man lifted the Baccarat crystal tumbler, taking a sip of his Eagle Rare bourbon. “Always about the money with you, isn’t it?”
“Well, you paid me enough to stay silent regarding Camille’s elimination. I’ve made sure that her daughter wouldn’t remember, and anything she did would be questioned. Who is going to believe the tangled memories of a girl who spent years under psychiatric care? No one.”
“True, but I’m in a precarious position. One story by an intrepid reporter, there will be questions and doubt, and he’ll lose his bid. You want to talk about investments? One woman’s life is nothing compared to what I’ve got on the line.”
“You’ll do whatever you think is best, as always.” Rising to her feet, she put her untouched drink down on the desk and collected her purse. “I’d appreciate it if you left her alive a little bit longer. She still hasn’t signed her will.”
“You’ve got a week.”
The door closed behind her, leaving a cloud of Chanel behind as he drained his glass and set it on the desk. “A week, and then she dies. And so do you.”
Chapter Ten
They’d had a great time fishing and only brought a couple home each, spending the night frying fish over a campfire on the beach and drinking beer that they hadn’t got to while on the boat. Sprawled on a blanket by the dying fire, they were enjoying a few kisses when Cullen pulled back and cupped her face. “Stay with me tonight.” he asked, voice soft.
“Tempting, but I should probably sleep in my own bed tonight.” Emlen tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged him down for another kiss. “As much as I’d like to sample more than your kisses, I’ve only been out of a long-term relationship for a few weeks. I don’t want you to be a rebound. You deserve better than that.”
“Beautiful, brilliant and a kind heart, Cullen murmured, kissing again. “all right, lovely. On your schedule and in your time.”
“Thank you.” Emlen smiled, kissed him again and got to her feet, starting to gather the things.
“No, leave it. I’ll clean it up. Let me walk you home and then I’ll come back.”
She dumped sand over the dying fire and Emlen put the bucket down before picking up her bag. “Okay, Romeo.” She laughed and held out her hand to him. Fingers entwined, they headed up the beach towards the cottage.
* * *
It had been a little more difficult to get into the cottage this time than it had been before, but his skills were still good enough to bypass the locks. Frankie didn’t even consider the windows, not at this stage of the game. Oh, yeah, when he was twenty years younger and about sixty pounds lighter, he might have, but not now.
He’d seen the two down on the beach and figured the way they were going at it, he had plenty of time to take a look around. He’d already found the cardboard boxes of files and papers and a stack of notepads that would give the boss a coronary when he told him. He took a few more shots of the documents with his phone and then stuffed it in his pocket. Taking the folders out of the box, he spilled them out on the floor, making sure all of the folders were emptied and spread around. He tore the pages out of the notepads and scattered them with the rest. Then he took a bottle of bleach and spilled it over all of the pages, the boxes and the laptop on the table. He’d taken several bottles out from under the sink and started spilling them all over everything.
Vinegar, carpet cleaner, scrubbing cleanser, each making more of a mess on the pile of pages and photos. Fumes rose from the pile and Frankie coughed, stepping back. Reaching for the laptop, he grabbed it with both hands and smashed it against the table a few times, damaging the table and destroying the laptop before dropping it into the mess on the floor.
“Good luck researching now, little girl.” He chuckled and headed for the door, ducking behind a bush as they entered the house. Waiting until they were inside, Frankie headed back to his van. He saved his laughter until he got away from the cottage. He wanted to take her out tonight, but not with the boy there. He wasn’t getting paid to kill Cullen, just her - and he hated the boss enough to not give him a freebie.
* * *
“Thanks for a great evening,” Emlen murmured, kissing Cullen. “I really had a good time.”
“I did too. Thank you, as well,” Cullen murmured, then he paused and wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?”
Coughing a little, Emlen nodded. “Yeah, bleach and stuff.” She looked around and then cried out, running around the short wall to where the table and the mess surrounding it lay. “Oh, my gods, Cullen! Someone’s been in here.” Crouching down, she reached for some of the papers as Cullen grabbed for her arm.
“No, Emlen, don’t touch it! Step back and open a couple of windows to get the fumes out. I’ll call the police.”
Stumbling back, Emlen turned for the windows and began opening them, coughing as the fumes kept getting to her. She spied Barnabas out on the porch and went to get him food to put outside. She didn’t want him inside with the fumes and mess.
* * *
There were a lot of questions from the police as to why the damaged files included police files. Cullen used his ex-cop connections with the boys in blue, letting them know they were his old files for a case Emlen was helping him research. They dusted for prints, took their statements and left them to clean up the mess.
By the time the mess was cleaned up, the reality of the situation had hit them both. Emlen poured them each a whiskey and sat down, hands shaking as she realized how violated she felt.
“I’m sorry all the information was damaged and that we could only save a few things,” Cullen offered, voice low. “It’s really going to set back the investigation.”
It took a minute for Emlen to process what he said and then she grinned a little, shaking her head. “No, we’re fine. I scanned everything over the past few days and uploaded it to my private cloud server. While having the actual files to look at can be helpful, we didn’t lose anything.”
“But someone thinks we did,” Cullen said, grinning back at her before lifting his glass in a toast. “Nicely done, Emlen. This gives us an advantage now.”
“How do you think? Because they figure we’re handicapped now and we’re not?”
“Exactly. Every little advantage is in our favor.” Cullen drained his glass and pushed to his feet. “I’ll go through the house and check it one last time and then I’ve got a beach to clean up. Try and get some sleep, Em. There’s a cruiser sitting on the house tonight. You’re safe.”
Emlen could hear him going through the house, checking windows and doors, opening closets and so on, making sure there were truly no more surprises in store. She really wanted to take a shower but settled for brushing and braiding her hair and washing her face before stepping out into the kitchen that still bore a faint scent of bleach an
d putting the kettle on. A cup of tea would help calm her before sleep and she could use some calming right now.
“Emlen! You got a key for this door?” Cullen called out and for a moment, Emlen couldn’t think what door was locked before remembering the attic.
“Yeah, I do, but you don’t need to check up there. It’s fine.” Emlen called back and chewed her lower lip. She didn’t want to open that door any time soon and she really didn’t want Cullen to see what was up there. Not before she had a chance to see it all and deal with whatever emotions opening it brought to life. Pouring her tea, she cupped her hands around the mug and leaned back against the counter, watching as Cullen came into the kitchen.
“No, I need to check it. I’m surprised the cops didn’t when they were here. Give me the key so I can make sure it’s okay.”
“No, Cullen, you don’t need to check it. It’s still locked, right?”
“Yes, but so was your door when you got home. Doesn’t mean someone didn’t get in now, does it?” Sarcasm made the words short as he folded his arms, giving her what she was calling his ‘intimidating cop look’
That look waved every red flag in Emlen’s arsenal and she drew a slow breath before glaring back at him. “And it’s none of your business, or anyone else’s business, what is behind that door. Let it go, Cullen.”
“Emlen…he could be hiding up there.”
“And he could be gone. I’ll take that chance. I’m not opening that door.”
“You’re being unreasonable, you know that, right?”
“Then I’m unreasonable. You can leave anytime now. Thanks for your help. Goodnight, Cullen.”
“Emlen…” Cullen sighed and reached out a hand to touch her arm, and she backed up. “Emlen, come on. What’s behind that door, anyway?”