More fairy charms were scattered among the treasures too. “Those are the ones I remember from my childhood.”
Her knees swayed when she saw the contents. Michael cupped her elbow with his palm to steady her.
“What is all this?” She shook her head, her expression twisted with surprise. “His lawyer Smith said Dad only left me a thousand dollars.”
“Read the letter,” Michael said, and he pointed to an envelope with Abby’s name inscribed by Angus’s hand.
Trembling fingers opened the letter. Michael eased Abby down with strong hands to sit beside him. She wasn’t breathing. A sparkling set of jewels also sat in the box, amongst a collection of pistols, daggers, and a Mickey Mantle baseball card, but it was the dog-eared documents that drew Michael’s attention.
“May I?” he asked.
Abby stared, her eyes glued to an emerald tiara. She glanced from the yellowed papers back up to Michael’s eyes, and he wondered what she was thinking. She hadn’t yet found her voice.
After a moment she nodded, and with trembling hands she lifted the yellowed papers and handed them to Michael. He grinned in response. He plucked the emerald and diamond tiara from the treasure chest, placed it on her head, then sat beside her to read.
“The letter says he collected all this over the years from investing. The jewels belonged to my mom, and he won the pistols from sailors in poker games here at O’Malley’s. He never told a soul he kept it hidden here. I guess he didn’t trust the banks?”
“He dinnae trust his lawyer, either. But why not tell you about it, lass?”
Abby’s eyes brimmed with tears. “He lost his memory to Alzheimer’s. I remember him talking about treasure, sure, but I thought he meant the bar. You know, O’Malley’s is our family treasure. The building is worth a fortune. I never imagined there’d be more.”
Michael chuckled as he flipped through the pages. “Here’s the real treasure, love.” Appreciative words escaped his lips as he read: “Oh,” and “yes” and “I see.” Abby wrung her hands at every sound, so he told her, “You’re gonna want to read these. The last page is particularly important.”
He spread the papers out on the bar and tapped his fingers on the dates, the official stamps. Abby’s eyes locked on the signature lines. Her mouth dropped open. Michael gently grasped her face and turned it to him.
“Your daddy’s attorney? Smith. He dinnae know about this?”
“Apparently not.”
It took Michael a minute to put everything together. “Did his attorney tell you about it when he read the will?”
Abby shook her head.
“Damn it, Abby.” He slammed his fist down on the mahogany bar and she jumped. “Don’t ya see what’s right in front of us, lass? Does his attorney work for Finnegan, too?”
Abby’s eyes grew wide. “He’s the one who set us up.”
“I want you to call the mayor—there’s a Historical Savannah landmark at stake.” He jumped to the floor, clenching his fist. “We canna’ let them steal O’Malley’s from ya’, girl. And we’re running outta’ time.”
Chapter 5
ABBY STRODE TOWARD the Savannah Bank gripping a bag with all the money from her father’s treasure box, though she might not need it after all. When Michael reached up and brushed the back of her hand, she grasped his small fingers tightly and looked down into his eyes. Something familiar lay there, something strange, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She didn’t exactly feel attracted to him—not like that, anyway—but something about Michael McKnight drew her in. She took a deep breath and increased their pace.
“You okay with me going in there with you now?” he asked.
She let a smile play across her lips while taking in his Kelly Green leprechaun outfit and nodded. “Thank you. For granting this wish. It doesn’t matter how tall you are or how you’re dressed. Just…thank you. From the bottom of my heart, and for everything decent and right in the world, I’m grateful.”
“No thanks needed. You caught me fair and square.”
Her eyes darted around the street, searching out villains like Finnegan or her father’s lawyer, not wanting to have them blindside her like they’d done these past months. “Angus’s hard work won’t be lost now that you’re in my corner. This is huge, Michael.”
“Luck o’ the Irish, lass. Imagine finding—and catching—a leprechaun on the day you need him the most.” In one smooth motion he pulled the back of her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against it. “That my magic will help save O’Malley’s makes me happy. It’s a Savannah institution and you’ll be a St. Patrick’s Day princess this year.” He stopped beside an azalea bush, waved his hand across the tightly closed buds and watched the flowers spring open. “May you always have all your heart might desire.”
The Irish blessing Michael spoke sent a sensation of déjà vu fluttering through Abby’s mind as the flowers opened, popping wide with magenta and white blossoms. She shook her head to clear it, because she knew she’d seen this sort of magic before. Michael snapped off the sprig of flowers and turned to her. He beckoned her close. “Your outfit needs something else. This will do the trick.”
She leaned down, and he slipped the stem into her jacket lapel. “Now you’re dressed to kill.”
She got the distinct impression he was going to kiss her. For about a second she wondered what a kiss from Michael would do to her, but she quickly pulled away. They began walking again, increasing the pace of their steps. “Finnegan won’t like this. He’s a sore loser.”
Michael nodded and kept time with her, his short legs pulling double duty. “Mark my words,” he said. “What we’re about to reveal will force Finnegan to show his true colors.”
They stopped outside their destination. The Savannah Bank looming over Bay Street represented the heartbeat of the city, and Finnegan had taken possession of one of the historic district’s finest buildings to establish his main office. A beautiful office for an ugly parasite and a crook. Hell, he’d probably stolen the building from some other poor desperate soul. She despised Finnegan and everything he represented. She wished she could punch him out.
“What’s on your mind, Miss Abby?” Michael asked as they stood there.
She grinned. “Boxing.”
Michael pointed past her to a man in a grey suit, exiting an expensive Jaguar sedan. “Is that your attorney?”
The leprechaun was right. Briefcase in hand, Gregory Smith swooped into the bank ahead of them, and Abby arched her eyebrows while a pit grew in her stomach. She had to overcome both the treachery of a banker and her very own lawyer. How would she find the courage to—?
“Shall we?” Michael asked, and he held out his arm for her. She took it, and they walked up the steps to the bank together.
They checked in for their meeting and shortly thereafter a bank attendant approached. “Mr. Finnegan is demanding your presence in his office, Miss O’Malley,” the man informed them.
“Let’s do this,” Michael said, a smug grin plastered on his face.
Abby took deep breaths, and she and Michael strode across the bank lobby. Halfway to Finnegan’s office the mayor met them. “This must be an important meeting. After your call, I became concerned. I’ve connected several cases where Kevin Finnegan acquired notable Savannah properties by seizure. I’m concerned something’s amiss, Abby. I called some friends in Atlanta this morning to look into it all.”
“Thank you for coming, Sir,” Abby said. “Please, meet my friend Mr. Michael McKnight.” The mayor and Michael shook hands. Then the men followed Abby into Kevin Finnegan’s conference room.
The chamber sported a long granite table with chairs for twenty. Priceless paintings of Civil War history hung on the deep red painted walls. Finnegan and Smith stood inside, Finnegan glowering, and Abby’s heart rate spiked in tempo. She was furious, and she refused to let Kevin intimidate her.
“Gentlemen.” Michael just nodded when the pair stepped back, refusing to shake his hand. He hun
g his green felt hat on the nearby hat rack.
Finnegan crossed his arms. His dark hair and charcoal suit fit his demeanor. “What’s the meaning of this? Who’s he? Santa have an after-Christmas sale on sidekicks or something?”
Abby instantly wanted to defend Michael, maybe with a rude word or some fisticuffs, but she tried to control herself. The leprechaun only narrowed his eyes and turned slowly to address the mayor.
“I’m an O’Malley family friend. I’m here on behalf of Abby’s interests. We have information to present contradicting that man’s attempt to steal an historic Savannah landmark.” He stabbed the air in Finnegan’s direction.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Finnegan said. “Is the little man here to make false accusations? Against me? Let’s remove him and get to business.”
Abby rolled her eyes and sat down. “Mr. McKnight stays. That’s final.” She glared at both her enemy and Gregory Smith. Smith was pretending to be impartial in the whole affair. He was still her lawyer, after all. The snake.
The mayor cleared his throat. “If she wants him here, Kevin, he stays. Shall we all have a seat and get on with this?”
Michael sat next to Abby. She clenched her hands together in her lap, and her heart beat so fast she could hardly breathe.
Smith, dressed in monotone grey, with equally dull graying hair, distributed stacks of papers across the conference table. She couldn’t bear to read them. She glared at Finnegan and ignored the papers.
Michael cleared his throat and pushed the papers back toward Smith. When Abby peeked under her lashes at him, she noticed the contrast his exuberant personality lent the room. His green suit worked for him, though she doubted anyone else could pull off that color. And somehow, he seemed bigger now, at least in her eyes. Was he throwing a glamour spell on himself?
What other kind of magic could Michael McKnight perform?
The attorney gestured toward the papers. “The Savannah Bank has called due the note on Miss O’Malley’s property. Her failure to pay the full amount of taxes due reverts the deed back to the bank.”
Her lungs wouldn’t work. Sweat sprang up on her palms. This could all still fall apart.
Smith flourished a hand toward her. “Abby, sign the last page and all this pain will be over. Mr. Finnegan has generously agreed to continue to rent your house back to you over the next three months while you make arrangements. He’s also agreed to allow you to work St. Patrick’s Day weekend at O’Malley’s and keep twenty-five percent of the revenue.”
Make arrangements? That Asshat. Abby’s jaw lowered, but she couldn’t find words.
Michael just groaned. “Finnegan’s generosity is exceeded a tad by his idiocy.”
“I even offered to marry her, Mayor. I could have saved you all of this heartache and pain if you’d only agreed to my proposal, Abby.”
“I’ll never marry you Kevin. That proposal was more likely another way you plotted to steal everything I own.” Her belly tightened and blood stung her face. So much was riding on this. Would she get to keep her property? She had the money now, but there were other things yet to be resolved. This could be bad…or very, very good.
The mayor leaned forward and caught Abby’s eye. “Is what they say true?”
Michael interrupted, flashing the mayor a sunny smile. “No, it’s not exactly all true. Miss O’Malley has secured payment for Mr. Finnegan’s ruse of taxes on her properties. To that end, she has payment in full with her today.”
Finnegan glared. “Ruse? I’ll thank you to keep out of this, little man! And the deadline has passed, so I’m afraid it’s too late.”
Michael spread his palms wide on the granite tabletop and set his jaw. He addressed Gregory Smith by saying, “So your client intends to steal O’Malley’s from its rightful owner whether the debt is paid or not?”
The mayor sucked in an uncomfortable breath and Abby wrung her hands, anxiety building. Her supposed lawyer twitched then countered with a smooth reply.
“It’s a simple matter of when documents are filed, Mr. McKnight. She’s unfortunately mismanaged her affairs, so the property reverts to the bank.”
Abby fisted her hands on the cold conference table but held her tongue. Her blood was boiling, but she would trust Michael to continue. He’d said everything perfectly for her so far. He really had been magical in every way possible.
The leprechaun stood and pointed. “Mr. Smith, I think your collusion in this game with Finnegan to steal Abby’s property and take unlawful possession of a historic landmark would be of great interest to the Georgia Bar, if not to the Savannah police themselves.”
Smith shrank back as if he wanted to disappear into his chair, but Finnegan reared to his feet. “Your accusations and hearsay have no place here, McKnight. Where did you dig him up, Abby?”
Abby rolled her eyes and ignored his condescension. The insult was clearly meant to throw them, which meant they were hitting home. Michael held himself back, too, and growled, “Abby, show them the papers.”
Abby laid out her documents and addressed the mayor. “These are from my father’s safe deposit box, Your Honor. Mr. McKnight enlightened me about their presence moments before our meeting. Otherwise, Finnegan would have gotten away with this.”
Finnegan and Smith exchanged heated whispers, and Michael fisted his hands but said nothing.
The mayor took the documents and flipped through them. When he got to the last page, he snapped a glare up at Finnegan and Smith, shook the papers at them and said, “Signed, notarized, and filed with the clerk of Savannah Superior Court twenty-five years ago. These look official. Angus O’Malley paid off the estate when Abby was born. She’s never owed any taxes. The building was paid in advance for a hundred years!”
Finnegan shot Smith an angry glare. Abby’s lawyer just kept his eyes locked on the conference table.
The mayor stared purposefully at them. “Just what the hell is going on here?”
Finnegan lurched forward. “Where the hell did you find those papers? I’m going to—”
Michael chuckled. “I believe we’re witnessing a fine example of extortion, Mr. Mayor.”
The mayor came to his feet, face red, hands fisted, but it was Abby who spoke. She fixed Smith with an impervious, icy stare. “You knew about this. My father trusted you. I trusted you, you snake.”
Smith blanched. “There’s no need to resort to name-calling.”
“Thieves!” Michael threw an accusatory finger at the men. “The whole lot of you! How’s that for name-calling?”
The man who’d shown them into the conference room interrupted the heated exchange by saying, “So sorry, Mr. Finnegan, sir, but an official from the Attorney General’s office in Atlanta has arrived. He’s demanding to see you and Mr. Smith at once.”
The mayor nodded his head and Smith collapsed in his chair, but Finnegan advanced on Abby, hands raised, clearly threatening. “You ungrateful little bitch! You called them? That property is mine! If this city is going to—”
Michael sprang up from the floor, onto the chair and across the granite table at Finnegan. He swung a double punch, fists connecting solidly with Finnegan’s nose. The businessman tumbled backward onto the floor, but Michael leapt, arms and legs wide, and landed atop him. He pinned Finnegan’s neck to the ground with his knees and drew back his fist as if daring him to move.
“Insult her honor again and I’ll do more than rearrange your nose. We clear?”
Abby moved to stand over her writhing, bleeding enemy. “I’d sooner burn O’Malley’s to the ground than hand it over to the likes of you.”
The mayor pointed at Smith. “I called Atlanta. Formal complaints were filed by several citizens, so I’ve launched an inquiry into your business practices, Kevin. Today seems to confirm my fears. As far as I’m concerned, McKnight is a Savannah hero.”
Abby turned, collected her papers and addressed the mayor. “Can you recommend a good lawyer? I believe I’ll need one, Sir. I intend on pressi
ng charges.”
Chapter 6
MICHAEL STRUTTED OUT into the March sunshine, placed his top hat on his head and fist-pumped the air, ready to go another round. He felt cheated somehow that Finnegan had gone down so easy. Even if he was still small and cursed, he felt old power flowing through his muscles. It was almost like he was back in his old body, whatever that would look like these days. At his side, Abby grinned down at him.
Once they hit the cobblestoned ramp of Factor’s Walk, they headed back toward River Street and O’Malley’s. They maintained their composure. Then Abby tugged on his arm. Michael stopped and turned to her. They burst out into laughter, grabbed each other, doubled over and then simultaneously jumped for joy.
Abby shrieked with more laughter. “Did you see the look on their faces? Oh! My! God! That was incredible!”
Michael wiped tears from his eyes, he laughed so hard. “‘Thieves! The whole lot of you!’ One of my best lines ever!”
She nodded. Pulling on the lapels of his green jacket, she leaned down in her excitement and kissed him smack-dab on the lips. “You defended my honor.”
Michael suddenly felt lost again. Damn this fairy curse. That kiss… It had lasted only a second, but it embodied the invitation he awaited. His heart raced, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her, spin her back against the rock wall, cushion her head with his hands and kiss her properly. He wanted to tell her everything, was dying to reveal the past, especially when he saw Abby draw back, realizing what she’d done.
But he knew he couldn’t. The penalty would be severe. As long as she was happy, as long as she was laughing and sharing her time with him, that would suffice.
Her eyes were full of gratitude, even if she no longer looked like she wanted to kiss him. “Anyone who jumps across a conference table and bloodies the nose of a villain deserves to be called a hero. Thank you, Michael,” she said. “You gave me my life back. No matter the reason, you saved me from this disaster.”
Savannah Girl's Three Wishes: A New Adult Fantasy Romance Page 4