Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four

by RAE STAPLETON

  I led them into the living room, where Leslie was waiting on the sofa.

  “Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?”

  “No need to trouble yerself,” Ó Cléirigh replied, sitting down. “We won’t be here long.”

  I smiled nervously. I could hardly keep myself from screaming, have you found my fiancé’s body? Is he dead?

  I joined Leslie on my sofa, facing the two officers.

  “We’ve had some news and it’s prompted a few more questions,” Ó Cléirigh began, looking across to me.

  I managed a nod.

  Ó Cléirigh looked down at his notebook.

  “Ye said Leslie got a call from her man, Sam, the night of yer bachelorette sayin’ that yer man hadn’t turned up at the bar.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are Cullen and Sam close?”

  “They’re good friends now but we’ve only known him a couple of months. He hired Cullen to restore his family’s castle and then we ran into him on our trip to India.”

  “Why did ye go to India? Was that to be yer honeymoon?”

  “No. It’s a long story but we wanted to visit the Temple of Indra. There was a murder, well four, actually, while we were there so we came back early but we already told you that.”

  The Inspector scribbled in his notebook.

  “Was Sam with ye at yer house before ye left to go out?”

  “No.”

  “Was Sam or anyone else pickin’ Cullen up?”

  “No. He was driving himself—meeting Sam and the boys on Grafton Street. Why? Do you think one of his friends had something to do with this?”

  “I’m just trying to establish the relationships. I’m wondering if Cullen would have confided in his friends if he were in trouble. Have ye ever suspected Cullen of havin’ an affair?”

  “God, no. Cullen is the most loyal person I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m sure ye’re right,” O'Brien said. “But we have to ask, ye understand. So, there’s no reason ye know of to explain why he might want to just get up and leave without sayin’ anythin’ to anyone?”

  “No.” I felt like we were going in circles. Hadn’t we already been over this?

  O'Brien waited a beat.

  “A witness has come forward,” she stated. “She saw Cullen last night on Exchequer Street. He was with another man. “

  “What man?”

  “We don’t know. She said he had dark hair and was wearing a red sweater with a hood.”

  Leslie and I both looked at each other.

  “Liam?” I said.

  Ó Cléirigh furrowed his brows. “Liam? Ms. Marcil, I thought Liam died.”

  “We thought so too,” I said, swallowing back the bile that was creeping up my throat.

  Leslie gripped my leg and I knew she was feeling just as emotional as I was. Why would Cullen be cooperating with him?

  “We went to Liam’s gravesite today just to check that he was still there. That’s what I wanted to tell you—on the phone earlier.”

  “And…”

  “The grave was dug up. Inspector, we think Liam’s alive.”

  FORTY-EIGHT

  “ They think I’m crazy, don’t they?” I said, looking across to Leslie, who sat looking rather pale on the other side of the sofa. “They think he just took off?”

  Leslie nodded.

  “In their defense, we did sound kind of crazy,” she said. “I mean if I was in their shoes and didn’t know about the book and time travel, and someone told me that someone was basically a zombie—alive after crawling out of a grave—I’d probably think the same thing. Not to mention they have a witness stating they saw Cullen walking around under no duress and of his own accord. They’re just coming to the most logical conclusion, based on the evidence available.”

  “But the description fits Liam. How can they ignore that?”

  “Well, hopefully they won’t ignore it. Hopefully, they’ll go out to Móraí’s and check the grave for themselves but, realistically, the description—dark hair and a red sweater —could fit a lot of men. Which is probably why the Inspector asked about Sam.” “It’s Liam. I just know it.”

  “The trouble is,” she said, turning to look at me, “we know what Liam is capable of but they don’t. They’re just regular people who have never been exposed to time travel or spirits or spell books.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand why Cullen wouldn’t have said anything when he called.”

  “Me neither.”

  “I’m relieved to know he’s alive but it just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the police he called?” Leslie asked.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I forgot when they started looking at me like I was a lunatic. I felt like they were accusing me of digging up Liam.”

  “They could probably trace Cullen’s mobile.”

  “True. I guess if he’s with Liam then I should ask them to. Part of me was thinking that if he was on the run then maybe it was for a reason – Liam used to be on the force, what if he had an accomplice? What if by helping the Inspector locate Cullen, I put him in Liam’s hands? Then again, it sounds like Liam’s already got him.”

  “I know. It would be good to know who the witness was that saw Cullen, and exactly what she saw—maybe show her a picture and confirm it was in fact Liam?”

  “That would be good,” I agreed. “Maybe we should go down to the station and ask them for a name and address.”

  “Yeah, somehow I doubt they’ll be willing to share that with us.”

  FORTY-NINE

  T he rain was a nice and steady drizzle, reflecting my mood as I pulled up in front of the bridal boutique for my final fitting. Tomorrow was the day we were supposed to head back to Dunlace to resume our research while Cullen and his team went to work. I’d called his partner yesterday and put everything on hold. Sam was aware and completely understood. Dunlace was Cullen’s baby—I couldn’t let them go ahead without him.

  I held my phone in my hand and considered cancelling my bridal appointment. I wished Leslie was with me. She’d been snoring rather loudly when I left. Part of me wanted to wake her but she looked so peaceful. Could I really step inside this place right now?

  I took a deep breath and entered the shop, bracing myself for the mannequins displaying their chic and fashionable designer wedding dresses. It was only a week ago that I’d dropped the gown off to get taken in but it felt like a lifetime now. I’d been full of hopes and dreams. Stop! We are going to find Cullen and we are going to get married Christmas day as planned.

  “Hello,” I said, heading for the familiar face of the owner.

  “Sophia, dear,” the woman said, “I didn’t expect to see you today. Shall I wet the tea?” she asked, “Or we have coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” I said, feeling on the brink of tears. “I’d like to try on my gown and be on my way.”

  She looked at me funny. “I have it done, to be sure, but I’m confused. I didn’t think ye were comin’ round anymore. Is everything brilliant now? Ye’re stayin’ put?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, the hairs on my neck standing up. “Has the garda been here?”

  “Heavens no, but, follow me.”

  I followed the woman into her office and waited as she rummaged through her drawer. She pulled out a small piece of yellow paper.

  “I returned to the shop from lunch Saturday and there was a message from your fiancé.”

  I took the paper and read:

  Mr. O’Kelley rang. Scratch the alterations on the gown. He’s headed beyont—somethin’ about the past catchin’ up.

  I felt sick; was Mr. O’Kelley referring to Cullen or Liam?

  “Was this on the machine? Can I hear his voice?”

  The woman shook her head. “One of my employees took the message. Why?”

  “Cullen disappeared on Friday,” I explained.

  “Oh Jaysus! I’m scarlet. I just assumed the two of ye were runnin
’ off together or somethin’. He just left without saying anythin’?” she questioned.

  I nodded.

  “That’s brutal, love,” she said, “really brutal.”

  I held back the tears until I stepped out of the shop. I hadn’t even bothered to try on the dress but she assured me it would fit. Not that it mattered. Then the floodgates opened, and I ducked into my car.

  FIFTY-ONE

  A fter a restless night’s sleep, I got up bright and early the next morning and took my aggression out on the treadmill. Then I showered, and stared out the window. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Cullen might be watching. I wanted so badly to catch a glimpse of him—just to see for myself that he was still alive. I’d already started the coffee when I heard the sound of a car door slam. I raced to the kitchen window to see Cullen’s father, walking up the path. I hurried to the door to greet him.

  “He’s still not back?”

  I frowned and shook my head, the tears beginning to flow already. He wrapped his arms around me like a protective bear and we sobbed together. I pulled away after a few minutes and got us each a tissue.

  “Have a seat and we’ll talk,” I said, with a wave of my hand toward the kitchen table. “Can I take your coat and get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure. Whatever ye’re after havin’, dear,” he said.

  I poured him a coffee and took the seat across from him. “I can’t believe he hasn’t contacted you, or Móraí, or Bert, or anyone. Where is he staying if he’s not using his credit cards? I don’t know what to do, Da. If he doesn’t want me here then why doesn’t he just tell me to my face? Do I go home to Canada? Do I stop looking for him? I’m so confused.”

  “Sophia, do ye know what my Grand-da used to say. He would say, it’s easy to be pleasant when life flows like a song but the man worthwhile is the one who can smile when everything goes wrong.” Da’s frown deepened. “Hear me when I tell ye that there’s no way Cullen would willingly leave ye. Sure as I am that there’s air in my lungs, this is foul play, and we must find him.”

  “But the bridal store message and the eye witness saw him downtown.”

  Da slammed his cup down and coffee spilled onto the table.

  I jumped up and grabbed a tea towel, quickly sopping up the mess. The tears were once again rolling down my face.

  “I’m sorry, lass. I can’t help but think that he’s being forced and it drives me mad. First Lucille and now Cullen, I can’t lose everyone.”

  I noticed he hadn’t said Liam’s name and I was glad for it.

  “Did you talk to everyone else in the family?”

  “I did—no one’s heard a peep,” he said, and walked to the coffee maker. “Do ye mind if I help myself?”

  “Please go ahead.” I took a sip of my own coffee, which was already tepid.

  “I’m an absolute wreck thinkin’ about ye bein’ alone out here,” he said, taking his seat and adding cream to his coffee. “I don’t understand why someone took my lad, but chances are whoever has him will want somethin’ sooner or later. I can’t bear to think of them comin’ after ye when ye’re all alone. Why don’t ye come to Dublin? There’s lots of room at the house. I’ve already spoken to the Inspector and he thinks it’s a good idea.”

  I took a sip of coffee and shook my head. I chose my words carefully. “I love you for offering, but right now everything is so messed up, and the only thing I’ve got is the fact that I’m home. I keep praying that he’ll just show up. I would drive myself crazy wondering if he was here while I was away. Do you know what I mean?”

  He nodded.

  “You don’t think he could be sick—mentally ill—like Liam was? Would he be capable of walking out on his life, his career, and his family and friends? And,” I added in a low voice, “me?”

  He sighed. “Never.”

  “That’s what I suspect but for the life of me, I can’t figure out, aside from Liam, who would want to hurt us. The police don’t seem to have a suspect. They think it’s just another case of cold feet.”

  “I don’t blame them,” he said thoughtfully. “If I didn’t know how much my son loved ye, I’d wonder the same thing. Still, I’ll do my best to turn the heat up on the investigation. I’ll hire a private investigator if I must. I just want Cullen found and I don’t want to have to worry about who might be lurking in the shadows watching ye.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  “ Are you sure you won’t join us?” Leslie asked, coming into my bedroom where I was curled up on a chair by the fire, reading.

  “Sam should be here in half an hour. There’s still time to change your mind.”

  “No. I’m not hungry,” I said, sniffing at the mug of hot chocolate she handed over.

  Steam was rolling off the top but I took a small sip anyway, the hot beverage soothed my aching throat. There had been altogether too much crying lately. I swallowed hard as the lump presented itself once again.

  I could feel the tears filling in my eyes, and it made me angry that I was so helpless—just a broken faucet, ready to drip at any time.

  “You can’t just stop eating, Sophia, especially when you keep throwing it up. I can hear you in the bathroom, and it’s only been a week but you’re starting to resemble a skeleton. “

  “I’ve got some rice cakes and peanut butter here. I’ll be fine,” I said reaching for another Kleenex. There were approximately eight wadded up balls of tissues on the table next to me, evidence that I was surely not.

  “What are you reading anyway? Must be engrossing. You’ve been glued to it for an hour.”

  “You don’t want to know,” I replied, closing the book and handing it to her.

  Leslie looked startled. “This is Liam’s journal?”

  “It was in Cullen’s desk.”

  “I wonder why he had that.”

  “That’s the weird part. I’ve never seen it before today. I know Cullen had a box of Liam’s belongings—journals and photo albums that he brought here from Liam’s after the funeral —but he put it in the attic and, as far as I knew, he’d never gotten it back out.”

  “Well you said he was up in the attic the day he went missing. He obviously found it. What does the journal say?”

  “Plenty. It’s creepy to be inside Liam’s head for even a moment, but there are some very interesting comments in here. Like the fact that he seemed to think astronomy had something to do with my ability to time travel. He obsessed over equinox and solstice and how the portal could be opened during those times. He also mentioned a witch.”

  Leslie took the book from me and I sat quietly, drinking my cocoa for a few minutes while she stood by the window and looked it over. When she finished and handed it back to me, my cell phone chimed, alerting me to the text message I'd just received.

  I’m sorry. Please move on.

  It was from Cullen. I scrambled to hit the button, almost spilling my hot cocoa on the blanket. It went to voicemail.

  “Was that Cullen? What did he say?”

  I handed her the phone, and let her read the message.

  “He didn’t call you Aeval. That’s not like him. Maybe Liam has his phone or maybe it’s a prank—a stupid, immature, asinine prank. Was it even Cullen who called the boutique?”

  “I don’t know, but there’s got to be a reason—like maybe Liam’s alive and he’s forcing Cullen to do something using one of the spells from my book. He talked about my spell book in the journal. You know he studied it when I stayed at the house with him last May.”

  “I thought he couldn’t work the spells?”

  “That’s what he claimed the day that he died, that he needed me to open the portal, and that only I could read the spells, but maybe he was wrong or manipulating me. Who knows why?”

  “Yes, he was very good at manipulation,” Leslie said, placing a hand on her stomach.

  “What if Liam used a spell before he died and hypnotized Cullen? He had Cullen alone and tied up for at least an hour.”

  “Don’t you th
ink we would have seen signs before now, babe?”

  “Not necessarily. Something could have triggered it, or maybe Liam has an accomplice. Hell, I don’t know. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to understand why the man I thought I knew inside and out would just abandon me.” I took a deep breath. I could feel the anxiety gripping my stomach but I had nothing left in me to vomit.

  Leslie bent down and wrapped her arms around me, just as the doorbell rang.

  “That must be Sam. Just a minute, sweetie,” she said, running out the door. “Stay strong.”

  I waited until I heard her feet hit the stairs and then I slammed my hand down on the book and let the tears flow. Why was Cullen doing this? There had to be a logical explanation. I felt the anger rise once again and I pressed redial, expecting the call to be diverted. I would leave him a few choice words just in case he was doing this of his own free will. The phone started ringing.

  I got to my feet and paced the room as I held the phone close to my ear, breathing hard, and waiting for him to pick up.

  It came on the sixth ring.

  “Hello?”

  ***

  “Leslie?” I said, completely dumbfounded. “I don’t understand.”

  “It was in the mailbox,” Leslie said, taking a sip of the whisky she’d just poured. “Cullen must have put it there. I saw Sam in the driveway so I opened the door to go out and meet him and it started ringing. It doesn’t make sense. Why would Cullen leave it here? Why text you and then leave the device?”

  “And where did he go? How did we not see him?” Sam questioned.

  I shrugged. “It’s so strange. Not just what he texted, but the fact that he must have just sent it from right outside the house. Why wouldn’t he have just spoken to me? Why not just tell me to leave him alone, if that’s what he wants? Why the games?”

  “Do you think he’s okay? Mentally I mean? Liam spent years on a mental ward and they were brothers, maybe the O’Kelley men are prone to breakdowns.” Leslie whispered.

  Hadn’t I just said the same thing to Da. Still it felt like a betrayal to agree. “No. Liam got that from his mother and Cullen and Liam had different mothers.”