by Misty Evans
“I only have a few weeks until I’m going on national television to sell my Cherry Bomb spa kits and I’m on the verge of closing a deal with an investment company to expand them into major stores like Macy’s, but here I am in Ireland, of all places, trying to save my brother and learning my dad is an international thief who may have the Vatican, as well as Interpol, after him. And meanwhile, I’m also pregnant. Not sure there are enough life skills in the world to help me with this, and what happens when the network and investment company find out my father is a thief?”
“We’ll handle it. You’ve got me, and Colton and Shelby. Plus Beatrice, Savanna, and everyone else. You’re not alone, J.”
Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “That may be the only reason I’m not totally freaking out anymore. From the moment I met you last fall, my plans have taken all kinds of left turns, and the harder I’ve tried to course correct, the more I’ve failed. In the past few hours, I’ve come to think about being a mom in a new light.”
“Being very familiar with excessive left turns in life, I have experience that might help. I’m here for you and our kid. I promise.”
She’d heard a lot of those over the years, especially from people who claimed to love her. Jon had not done that yet, but she was pretty sure she could see it in his eyes. “I want this baby,” she said softly. “I want your baby.”
His dark eyes met hers. “I already love him or her as much as I do you.”
There it was—those all-important words. “You…you love me?”
Surprised widened his eyes. “You have to ask?”
“Yeah, I kinda do. We’ve never gotten into the messy stuff, like emotions. I…didn’t know.”
“Does that mean you don’t, you know…feel the same?”
She threw her arms around his neck and let her body press against his. “I’ve loved you since you came to Good Hope to protect Shelby. She’s my best friend and closer than a sister to me. I nearly jumped your bones right there. Anyone who protects my family, Shel included, is someone to be trusted, and that is a rare commodity in my world.”
He held her close and Jaya felt safe, secure. “I love you, Jaya Hotti O’Sullivan.”
“How do you always know exactly what I need to hear?” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you too, Jon Wolfe. I hope we know what we’re doing.”
By the time the sun rose a few hours later, Shelby had set up a mobile headquarters, Colton had put everyone through various security protocols, and Jaya had done more research on the cross out of curiosity. Stolen emeralds, the Church, French countesses—it was all so juicy, she’d told Jon, like an historical soap opera.
Jon had been on the phone nonstop with Beatrice and the local Garda, but when he couldn’t get Jaya to rest, he’d made sure she ate some breakfast to keep her energy up. He felt better after their talk, and with the way he could coax a smile from her now, knew she did too.
The men who’d threatened them the previous evening had been found, thanks to an anonymous report by Beatrice, but the local police weren’t giving details. Beatrice and Rory were looking into it and hoping to come up with names and associations that might give Jon and Colton a lead.
Meanwhile, Jon planned to hit up the Red Hen, the B&B where they’d expected to stay, and sniff around. See who there might know Sean or interacted with him and Finn. While Beatrice had booked their group under assumed names, four strangers coming into town from America might have been enough to catch someone’s attention, and it couldn’t hurt to check into the owners, Paddy and Lorna Doyle, anyway.
“Ready?” Colton stood at the back door, a big, heavy handgun in one hand and a travel cup of coffee in the other. “Daylight’s burning.”
Jon finished filling his own cup and snapped on the lid. They were all running on almost no sleep but his adrenaline was flowing. He didn’t like leaving Jaya, even with Shelby, a trained FBI agent, and Kieran, whom Beatrice had assured him was tougher and sneakier then he looked, but they were short on hands. The secret black site was probably the safest place in this neck of the woods, regardless if he was there or not.
“Wait.”
Jaya flew across the floor, feet in a pair of wool socks Kieran had given her and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. Her face was free of makeup, but she looked better than she had since New Year’s Eve, sleep or no sleep.
He hugged her for a long moment until Colton started making gagging noises.
“You’re going to be fine, Jaya,” Colton drawled. “Finn’s going to be fine. You guys come from a long line of lunatics with a strong survival instinct.”
Jaya flipped off Colton and kissed Jon quickly on the lips. “Be careful.”
“You too.” He smoothed an errant strand of hair from her face. “Keep your phone close by in case I call.”
She nodded. “Don’t take any chances, okay? I need you to come back to me.”
He’d been on far more dangerous missions, but now wasn’t the time to remind her of that. She simply needed reassurance. “Our baby needs his uncle and grandfather. I’m going to bring them both home.”
“Her,” she corrected with a grin. “She needs both her uncle and grandfather.”
His fingers grazed her belly, so flat right now it was hard to imagine it holding his child. “I hope she likes four-wheeling and ice fishing.”
“Who doesn’t?”
Jaya had probably never been ice fishing in her life. He grinned, imagining her purple-streaked hair flying in the wind. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Colton rolled his eyes as they walked out. Jon looked back and saw Kieran standing guard with Eamon on the second floor roof. He gave Jon a nod and Jon lifted his chin in return.
Colton climbed into the driver’s seat, grinding through the borrowed truck’s gears with a few choice swear words as they lumbered over potholes down the long drive.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Jon teased.
“It’s not easy getting used to the steering wheel on the wrong side, but shifting with my left hand? Total crap, man.”
Colton did not, however, accept Jon’s invitation to change places.
In the daylight, it was easy to see the beauty of the landscape. While it was January and the temperatures were near freezing along the water, snow was scarce and the ice from the previous night’s storm had already melted. The castle’s long drive led to the gate, passing by the rows of stone fences and the sheep, now scattered about grazing.
They hit the road and headed for town. On their right was a long line of cliffs. Waves crashed against the jagged rocks with enough force to send spray up into the air.
The road was narrow and winding but traffic this early was light. They passed more sheep, a few cows, geese, and a horse in the various pastures and front yards on the way. Farmers waved, as did a couple women standing near a gate, when Colton and Jon went by.
“Friendly,” Jon said.
Colton avoided a large pothole. “Or maybe they just recognize Kieran’s truck.”
“He doesn’t seem particularly sociable to me.”
Colton flipped on the radio, searching for music. “But he’s a native, right? You know small towns, everybody knows everybody.”
That could be an issue if anyone started asking around, yet, somehow Kieran managed to keep a black site covert while hiding in plain sight.
Jon didn’t know much about small towns, but he did know reclusive behavior and Kieran’s job required a certain level of that. “You think the owners of the B&B know anything about Sean and Finn?”
Disgusted with the local selection of stations, he flipped the radio back off. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
The Red Hen was a cottage on a hill with a pub named Kilroy’s on one side and a tall-steepled church off to the north on the other. Colton parked the truck near the pub and they watched the cottage. Jon liked to get the feel for a place before he barged in and started asking questions.
Colton fingered the gun in his
lap. “We’re about to tip our hand and let whoever took Finn know we’re here.”
“Pretty sure we did that last night when we ran those two guys off the road.”
“If there are multiple entities after that cross, we might be walking into more than just the two of us can handle.”
“I’ve already requested backup.”
“Who?”
A couple of tourists walked out on the front porch of the Red Hen, the woman wrapping a scarf around her neck and rubbing her hands together before they started down the steps and walked to a line of shops near the wharf. “I don’t know who Beatrice is sending, but we should have more hands on deck by tonight.”
“Should we wait until then to stir the pot?”
Colton was never one to be cautious and they were on the clock. Jon slanted a glance at him over the rim of his travel mug as he sipped coffee. “You worried?”
“I’m out of my element here. Usually we know who the bad guys are and how to take them down. Terrorists and shit are easy. They’re bad, they die. International jewelry thieves? Crosses, curses, and Irish people? What the hell do I know about that?”
An older woman in a dress and knit leggings with her graying hair in a bun came out on the porch with a rug. Lorna Doyle shook it out, not seeming to care about the brisk air, and beat it a couple times on the railing before going back inside. “At this point, don’t kill anyone and we should be okay. I’ll let you know when to pull the trigger.”
“I want to do some target practice from the highest parapet at the castle before we leave. I bet I can hit something a couple miles away from up there.”
And draw more attention to themselves. Seemed like a good idea. “Not sure Kieran will be too excited about that, but after we’re done here, you can ask.”
Colton snorted, not keen on asking permission from anyone. “What do you think?” He stuffed his gun into his jacket out of sight. “You want me outside on guard or do you want to tag team the old lady?”
Jon pulled his dark hair into a tiny bun at the back of his skull and slipped on his knit cap. “Let’s tag team, but get out the parabolic mic first. Once we talk to her and leave, I want to know if she calls anyone or signals them some way about our visit. We’ll do a little eavesdropping from out here. That’s the only way we’ll know for sure if she or her husband are involved.”
He’d rather plant some bugs inside the house, but Kieran hadn’t been stocked with those. The mic was their best option on this run.
“The pub’s open for business already.” Colton eyed it like he was suddenly thirsty. “Maybe we can grab a pint afterwards.”
Bells liked to get a rise out of anyone and everyone. Jon rarely let it get to him, but his usually long fuse was short this morning. Maybe because life had changed for him and suddenly this mission held a lot more weight. “It’s not even nine a.m., and need I remind you, we’re on a mission, not a sightseeing trip?”
A laugh. “Come on, man. You know I’m yanking your chain. I just hope Beatrice doesn’t send Moe to help out. Fuck, all I heard on the flight was about the differences between England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. The Midlands and the West Midlands and how you better not confuse them, blah, fucking blah. I got a history lesson I didn’t need nor want. My ears are still bleeding. I’m a simple idiot from Oklahoma. I can’t take more of that shit.”
Moe was still on call with the plane in case they needed to bug out quickly. He actually might have been better with the locals, understanding the culture and language far better than either Jon or Colton. “You were a Navy SEAL, just like Moe, and in case you haven’t figured it out, he’s as American as you are.”
Colton looked surprised. “What’s the accent for then?”
“He’s got British roots, and I guess he likes to make it known.”
“Fucking asshole. I knew he was faking.”
Anyone Colton talked trash about, he actually liked. Jon checked his weapon, hiding his knowing smile. “Let’s do this.”
The inside of the Red Hen was cozy and warm. A bell tinkled overhead and Jon and Colton wiped their feet on the rug. The woman in the dress appeared, wiping her hands on an apron. Her full cheeks were lined with wrinkles and her smile was genuine, although Jon could see her sizing them up in seconds. “Hello, boys.” She looked like the locals but her accent was much lighter. “What brings you to the Red Hen? Visiting our fair town? Sightseeing? Antiquing? You’re in luck. I had a recent cancellation, some dirty birds. Can I set you up with a room?”
Colton gave her a weird look and immediately stepped away from Jon as if he had cooties. “Oh, we’re not…together, like you know, partners or whatever. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. We just work together. None of that other…stuff.”
Jon rolled his eyes. Shelby had sent photos of Sean and Finn to his phone so he showed Lorna the one of Sean first. “Do you recognize this man? He and his son had reservations last week.”
The smile faded and her eyes narrowed as they came back up to Jon’s. Her accent thickened ever so slightly. “You be a friend of ’is?”
“Of the family.” Sort of. Jon swiped the screen to Finn’s picture. “This is his son. Recognize him?”
“I certainly do remember them.” Her eyes went hard, features set. “They snuck out o’ here in the middle of the night and didn’t pay their bill. Claimed to be O’Sullivans from America, but more like them dirty Sullies from up the road. Tinkers, the lot o’ them.”
Jon wondered if the disappearing act was before or after Finn had been kidnapped. “While they were here, did they mention looking for a treasure? Or visiting the family home?”
“Dunno.” The wrinkles around her eyes grew deeper as she studied him. “You gonna make it right with their bill, dear?”
If he didn’t, he wasn’t getting any more information out of her, that was obvious. She might look like Mrs. Claus, but she knew how to extort the situation.
He dug into his pocket. “How much do they owe?”
She sashayed behind a small counter, setting reading glasses on the end of her nose before pulling out a basket of papers. Licking the tip of one index finger, she used it to sort through them, one at a time. Jon felt Colton’s annoyance from three feet away.
“Aye, here it is.” Lorna looked at Jon over her glasses and showed him the bill.
It was in scribbled handwriting, but he made out the charges and realized he didn’t have enough euros on him. He took a pen from the holder on the counter and scribbled Rory’s number on the bill. “Contact this guy and he’ll pay it, I promise. Just tell him Nickleback said to.”
Her pale brows furrowed and she slowly slid the paperwork back into the basket. “The only thing I remember about Mr. O’Sullivan was that he met with another man outside on the porch. Ferris was his name. He bought the old haunted castle up the road, Blackrock. Although why anyone would want that awful place, I haven’t a bloody idea.”
“Haunted castle?”
“’Twas abandoned long before I was born.” She removed the glasses from her nose. “They say a spirit woman lives there, singing to the ghosts of the dead men she lured into the castle and killed. The tinkers sometimes use it as a halting spot, but that came to a screeching halt when Mr. Ferris bought it from the government. Apparently, that damned ghost is still luring men there, stupid knob.”
Ghost stories. Perfect. “This Ferris fellow, has he been around since Sean disappeared?”
She paused, chewing on the end of one ear piece. “Come to think of it, no. I usually see him coming and going from Kilroy’s, but I haven’t seen him all week.”
“Does Mr. Ferris have a first name?”
“Dunno.”
Liar. Like Colton had mentioned, it was a small town. Jon suspected not much went unnoticed under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Doyle. “Did Mr. O’Sullivan leave anything behind in his room?”
“Not a thing. He cleared out and didn’t pay up. That’s all I know.”
“Wher
e exactly is this castle Ferris bought?” Jon asked.
She gave them directions to Blackrock and Jon left his cell number with her with instructions to call him if she saw Ferris around. She looked dubious, but he hoped after she was reimbursed for Sean and Finn’s rooms, she might suddenly remember more and contact him.
Outside, Colton pointed at the pub. “Sure you don’t want to go in and have a pint? See if this Ferris character is in there?”
“Let’s check out the castle first. If nothing turns up, we’ll come back and talk to the barkeep. Might be more customers by then, maybe even Ferris himself.”
Once they were situated in the truck, Colton turned on the mic and they listened for several minutes for conversations going on inside the B&B. They heard Lorna call Rory and ask for payment. A minute or so after hanging up, she started humming a happy tune, and Jon assumed the funds had come through already.
But nothing else went on. She spoke to another guest about breakfast and then they heard noises that sounded like she was washing dishes.
“Where’s the husband?” Colton asked.
About that time, a guy in gray pants and a dark green coat exited the rear of the pub and walked with his head down to the back door of the Red Hen. He must have stumbled into the kitchen because next thing they heard was a sharp rebuke from Lorna and the man mumbling about a shower.
The woman might not be in on whatever had happened with Sean and Finn, or know all the details, but Jon had the distinct feeling her husband might.
8
While Colton drove, Jon texted the general address of Blackrock to Jaya and Shelby to let them know where he and Colton were headed and why.
‘Up the road’ apparently equaled a good ten mile drive. They’d almost hit the eleven mile marker, when they crested the top of a hill and Colton slowed the truck. “Holy shit. Is that it?”
Down near a river, two of the four outer walls still stood high in the misty morning sun. The other two were in a bad state of decay, one a gaping mouth of tumbled stones spilling over the ground. Brown grass and vines covered them, the vines having inched their way up the sides of the entrance.