Driftwood Cove--Two stories for the price of one

by Debbie Mason

  Michael rolled his eyes as he extended his hand to Julia.

  “His fiancée,” she said, giving Aidan a nudge before putting her hand in Michael’s. “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard all about you. Sophie was going to set us up together.”

  “It’s not too late. You’re not married yet,” Michael said, grinning at his cousin’s low growl. “Sounds like the Beast objects.”

  She laughed. “I should hope so. The date’s set, and plans for the wedding are well under way.” She smiled up at Aidan. “Father O’Malley agreed to marry us in the water.”

  His cousin rubbed the back of his neck, looking decidedly uncomfortable with the news. “I thought you were joking about the mermaid theme.”

  “Of course not. That’s where we had our meet-cute.”

  “I thought our meet-cute was under the mistletoe at the manor.”

  “It was, but we’re getting married in July, not December.”

  This was a side to his cousin that Michael had never seen before. The former DEA agent used to be taciturn and tough. He wouldn’t be talking about meet-cutes or agreeing to mermaid weddings.

  Must be love, Michael thought, working to keep the laughter from his voice when he said, “I’ll leave you guys to it. Nice meeting you, Julia. Give me a call if you ever get tired of this guy.” He clapped his cousin on the shoulder. “I was planning to stop by the station before I head to work in the morning. You going to be in? I thought we could share information on Charlie Angel’s case.”

  “Yeah, sure. Sounds like a—” Aidan began before Julia cut him off with a frown.

  “What are you talking about? What’s going on with Charlie?”

  “He’s missing. I thought I told you…Right, you’ve had deadline brain for the past few days.” He glanced at Michael, amusement and maybe a hint of pride glinting in his eyes. “She doesn’t see, hear, or do anything other than write for the entire seventy-two hours before she has to hand in her book. Hence the hair and pale face.”

  She touched her head. “What’s wrong with my hair?” Then she waved off her own question. “That’s not important. Tell me why both the FBI and the HHPD are looking into Charlie’s disappearance. This isn’t just about him taking off like he sometimes does, is it? Not with both of you involved.”

  “Might be. At this point, we’re not sure. But his name’s come up in an investigation, and we need to talk to him. So far, we haven’t been able to reach him,” Michael told her. “Your bookstore’s just up the street from the Salty Dog, isn’t it? Do you remember when you last saw him?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “I think it was…When exactly did he go missing?”

  “Best we can tell, sometime after nine o’clock Tuesday night,” Michael told her, catching a hint of dismay cross her face just before it vanished. He glanced at his cousin to see if he noticed.

  Of course he had. Aidan’s eyes narrowed on his fiancée. “Julia, what is it? Do you know something?”

  She played with her earring. “No, nothing. Nothing at all. I didn’t see anything. Oh, look at the beautiful dog. He’s huge,” she said, walking toward the Range Rover.

  His cousin grabbed her hand and tugged her back. “Hold it. What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Trust me, just let it go. You really don’t want to know.”

  “Babe, I assure you, we really do. I’ve put together a special sending-off-the-manuscript celebration that’s going to be ruined if you stall for much longer, so spill.”

  Special sending-off-the-manuscript celebration? Michael stared at Aidan, wondering who’d taken over his cousin’s body.

  As though he knew what Michael was thinking, Aidan shrugged and then muttered, “Just you wait, smartass.” Then he looked down at his fiancée. “Julia, I don’t know who you’re trying to protect, but Charlie might be in trouble.”

  “If he is, then someone who is important to you, and to you”—she nodded at Michael—“might be in trouble too.”

  “My brother?” Aidan said at almost the same time as Michael said, “Liam?”

  “No.” She glanced back at the manor and then lowered her voice. “I took a walk down to the harbor to clear my head Tuesday night. About an hour before you came to pick me up, Aidan. So probably around ten. I saw Jasper and Charlie on the wharf. They were arguing. It looked…it looked like it might get physical.”

  Chapter Four

  After four rounds of heads-or-tails ended in a tie, his cousin decided that the FBI had jurisdiction, so it was Michael’s job to question Jasper. Michael knew better. It didn’t have anything to do with jurisdiction. His cousin didn’t want to interrogate the man who’d been like a great-uncle to the Gallagher grandchildren any more than Michael did.

  Jasper had been a permanent fixture at the manor for as long as any of them could remember. Tall, with white hair brushed back from an angular face and a hint of the British Isles in both his manner and speech, the seventysomething man could easily pass for the butler in his favorite period drama, Downton Abbey.

  He’d been their great-grandmother Colleen’s right-hand man, running the manor and the family with an iron fist. Which included keeping Michael and his brothers in line whenever they came to visit. Especially when they were younger and spent summers at the family cottage. The cottage Michael had hoped to be settled into by now.

  He imagined Atticus did too. “Come on, boy,” he said, releasing the seat belt as his cousin pulled away with a wave. From the truck’s passenger window, Julia sent Michael a commiserating smile. He hoped she was wrong about what she thought she’d seen. His cousin didn’t think so. Apparently Aidan had heard rumors of a feud between Jasper and Charlie years before. Something to do with Ronan, their grandfather.

  Atticus’s gaze moved from Michael to the asphalt, his long eyebrows and beard making him look like an old man. Lately, he’d been acting like one too. Michael banished the thought and the depressing worries that accompanied it. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about what the vet had said at their last visit.

  “You know what, boy? Living here will be good for you. Lots of places to roam free and plenty of fresh air.” It might end up being as good for him as it was for his dog, Michael thought as he helped Atticus out of the SUV. The wolfhound wasn’t the only one who’d been in a rut.

  Michael pressed the lock button, standing for a minute to listen to the waves crash against the rocky shore at the back of the manor. The sound reminded him of how much he’d loved coming here as a kid. There was something wild and primal about the place that appealed to him. He liked the history, too, the sense of family and belonging. A cold wind blew off the ocean, ruffling his hair and tugging at his coat, the tang of fish and salt on the damp sea air.

  Atticus nudged him, unwilling it seemed to let Michael put off the interrogation any longer. With a low woof, the wolfhound lumbered up the walkway. The flagstone path was lit by the same white fairy lights that were wrapped around the fifteen-foot cedars and flowering shrubs, their buds tightly cocooned.

  Michael reached the dark wood medieval-looking door just as it creaked open. Atticus must have knocked with his big head or equally big paw. “Thanks a lot, pal,” he murmured, not quite ready to hear what Jasper had to say.

  It was then that Michael realized what he hadn’t allowed himself to think about. His worry that a member of his family might somehow be involved in Charlie’s disappearance, and what that would mean for his relationship with Shay. He drew in a frustrated breath at the sign that he still held out hope, even after their last phone call.

  “Master Michael, Atticus, we’ve been awaiting your arrival. It’s good to have you home where you belong. I aired out the cottage and stocked the kitchen,” Jasper said while giving Atticus a quick rubdown.

  The older man wasn’t normally a fan of animals in the manor, but he had a soft spot for Michael’s dog. His great-grandmother had presented Michael with Atticus on the day he’d passed the bar. However, it was Jasper who’d decided on the
breed and breeder and looked after the baby wolfhound before he was given to Michael.

  Jasper’s smile faded as he lifted his gaze, his brow furrowed. “Master Michael, what on earth happened to you?”

  “Nothing to be concerned about,” he said, once again making the mistake of bringing his fingers to his eye. Atticus whined and stood on his hind legs, placing his front paws on Michael’s shoulders to give him another sloppy apology kiss. Michael hugged the dog. “I’m fine, buddy, but you need some doggy breath mints. Come on, get down.”

  Atticus dropped to the slate floor on all fours, rocking the glass vase in the middle of the pedestal table.

  Jasper grabbed it when two red petals fell from the roses, shooting a disgruntled look at the black cat that sauntered past the table.

  “Sorry about that. We won’t be long. I just need to pick up the key, and I have a couple of questions for you.” Michael may have mumbled the last under his breath.

  “In regards to?”

  He cleared his throat. “The disappearance of Charlie Angel.”

  * * *

  “Yes, it’s me, Atticus my boy. Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not here,” Colleen said to the wolfhound, who sniffed at the window seat on which she was currently perched in her ghostly form. Simon, the black cat who’d arrived at the manor a week before Colleen had passed, took a swipe at the dog.

  “You’re a brave one. He could eat you in a single bite if he was so inclined.” Which of course he wouldn’t. Atticus was a noble dog with a sweet and gentle disposition. They said a person’s pet often reflected its master, and she thought that to be true in this case. Michael was a fine man, noble, commanding, and whip smart, but there was a warmth and kindness about him too. And to her utter delight, the boy had finally decided to come home where he belonged.

  Out of all her great-grandchildren, Michael had loved Greystone Manor the most. She saw signs of her son Ronan not only in Michael’s strong, masculine features but also in his quiet intellect, smooth-talking tongue, and his love of history. Thinking of Ronan brought on a familiar twinge where her heart had once beat.

  At the time that she died, more than a year before, she’d seen the light and had been overjoyed at the thought of seeing her loved ones once more. A hundred and four when she passed, she imagined there’d been quite the crowd gathered at the Pearly Gates, anxiously awaiting her arrival. Only she’d made the mistake of looking back at those she’d leave behind as they tried desperately to revive her.

  In that instant, she’d known they needed her more than the ones who’d gone before. They weren’t prepared to take on the battle for Greystone’s future, and they were at a complete and utter loss when it came to finding their true loves.

  Michael was the worst of the lot and had come within hours of making the worst mistake of his life. The lad might be book smart, but when it came to life and love, he could use some help. Either that or a kick in the hiney. The rest of them hadn’t been much better off at the time, so she’d felt she didn’t have a choice. She’d stick around and set them on the path to true love. In doing so, she’d not only ensure they lived happily ever after, she’d also guarantee that the estate would stay in the family forevermore.

  So here she was, living betwixt and between, a ghost of her former self. But not in a vampire or zombie sort of way. She was tied to the manor, invisible and inaudible to most but Simon and some of her great-great-grandchildren. Jasper, who was just then taking a seat across from Michael in the study, could sense her presence. Mostly because of Simon. He knew where one went, the other wasn’t far behind. Not always, though.

  Jasper wasn’t paying any mind to Simon now. He was intent on Michael, who was seated behind Colleen’s imposing mahogany desk. There was something about the way her great-grandson was studying Jasper that made Colleen nervous.

  The animals drew her attention with their battle sounds. “Enough now. I need to hear this,” Colleen said, her forefinger going through the hissing Simon’s nose as she tried to gently tap it. Both the cat and dog reared back. Tail tucked between his hind legs, Atticus made his way to his master’s side, bumping into a chair and a floor lamp along the way.

  “Poor laddie, he’s going blind. You be kind to him from now on, do you hear?” she said to Simon.

  He gave her a shirty look and plunked down beside her.

  The door to the study opened, and Colleen’s daughter-in-law Kitty appeared. She’d been married to Ronan for decades but still managed to look like a woman much younger than her years. Colleen suspected her wardrobe played a part. Tonight, she wore skinny jeans and a blue mohair turtleneck that matched her eyes. “What’s all the commotion…Michael darling, you’re here. Oh my, your eye.” She raised a hand to her throat. “Jasper, did you—”

  “I most assuredly did not. I would never strike the boy. And I must say I resent your implying that I would do so, Kitty.” Jasper harrumphed and crossed his arms.

  His dark eyebrows drawing inward, Michael looked from Jasper to his grandmother.

  “You see it, don’t you, my boy? Things have indeed changed between the two. Kitty now knows Jasper has been in love with her for years, and she has feelings for him too.”

  Which created something of a problem for Colleen. Where Jasper had once been on her team, willing to help out as best he could given her ghostly circumstance—though he’d managed to mess up a time or two—he was definitely on Kitty’s side now. The two of them had been in cahoots since Jasper discovered Kitty had Colleen’s memoir, The Secret Keeper of Harmony Harbor. And just like the title implied, the book contained not only the Gallagher family secrets but also the secrets of half the town.

  Kitty and Jasper had taken it upon themselves to right the wrongs of the past. Now, if Colleen was honest, she’d admit their first attempt had turned out all right in the end. Of course, not as well as if she’d been the one pulling the strings, exposing secrets and revealing truths.

  “I’m sorry, darling. I…,” Kitty said to Jasper, trailing off when Michael’s blue eyes went wide.

  “All right, am I missing something? Since when do you refer to Jasper as darling?” Michael asked.

  Colleen’s old confidant looked at Kitty, no doubt holding his breath awaiting her response. Kitty wasn’t keen to let word of her and Jasper’s romance get out. As far as Colleen could tell, she was worried about how her sons and grandchildren would feel. Colleen thought she might’ve given Jasper’s feelings as much consideration as she gave to the family’s.

  “It was just a slip of the tongue. Nothing to concern yourself with.” She cast an apologetic glance at Jasper. He stared straight ahead, ignoring the light brush of her fingers on his arm when she took the chair beside him. “So, how did you get the black eye, darling?”

  “A disagreement of sorts. It precipitated our move here. I realize it was short notice and it’s getting late. I hope I didn’t put anyone out.”

  “Not at all. We’re absolutely thrilled you’re here. Jasper has everything in order at the cottage, so if you’d like to head over—” Kitty began, obviously anxious to get rid of Michael. No doubt she wanted to make amends to Jasper as quickly as possible.

  “Actually, if you don’t mind, I need a word with Jasper, Grams. Alone.”

  “He wishes to question me about Charlie Angel,” Jasper said, continuing to stare straight ahead.

  “Oh.” Kitty swallowed hard. “I’m not going anywhere, Michael. Jasper’s my…friend. If he’s in some kind of trouble, I want to know.”

  Colleen took in the nervous way Kitty rubbed her hands together. And in doing so, she almost missed the silent exchange between the couple. Almost. “For the love of all that’s holy, do not tell me you told Charlie what I did all those years before?” Colleen muttered at the pair.

  “Why would you think Jasper’s in some kind of trouble, Grams?”

  Jasper reached for Kitty’s hand and gave it a squeeze, whether to comfort her or shut her up, Colleen wasn’t
sure. Then he looked at Michael. “I’m aware Charlie’s missing, and if you’re here to question me, I imagine you have a witness who saw me with him on the wharf.”

  “I do, and Jasper, I’d be remiss if I didn’t inform you that it might be best if you had an attorney present. Would you like to call one before we continue?”

  “Michael, Jasper is a…like a member of this family. How dare you threaten—”

  “Grams, I’m protecting him, not threatening him. This is an informal conversation, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea if he had representation.”

  “I have nothing to hide, Master Michael. Please, go ahead.”

  “If he’s going to jail, so am I. We’re in this together and will go down together if—”

  Jasper made an exasperated sound in his throat. “Kitty, not another word.”

  “No, you’re not facing the consequences alone. We were just trying to right Mother Gallagher’s wrong.”

  “If I wasn’t already dead, the two of them would be the death of me, Simon,” Colleen said to the cat, whose ears had perked up the moment Michael suggested Jasper hire an attorney.

  Jasper and Kitty began a back-and-forth spat, which Michael put a stop to by placing his fingers between his lips and whistling. Atticus whined, and Simon put his paws over his head. Jasper and Kitty looked at Michael. “Stop arguing, and let’s start from the beginning. Jasper, what were you and Charlie fighting about?”

  “We weren’t fighting.”

  “Don’t hold out on me, okay? The person who saw you on the wharf said the conversation was heated and looked to be getting physical.”

  “That’s true, but not on my part.” He glanced at Kitty, and she nodded. “Your grandmother and I came across information that we felt Charlie had a right to know. He was, to put it mildly, upset.”