“He could’ve taken down our license number, he was certainly close enough to read it. And besides, there’s nowhere to pull over.” Cheryl turned around to face the front.
“Is it a man driving?”
“I can’t tell.”
Olivia volunteered, “Me either.”
Jane kept peeking in the rearview mirror, trying to keep her eyebrows from hovering near her hairline. She still had her foot to the gas pedal, speeding the car along the tight lane next to the River Shannon. Rock walls now bordered both sides of the road. And the black compact was so far back, his velocity at a crawl, that Jane couldn’t see him behind the last bend. She lessened her tight grip on the steering wheel as she exited the motorway and left the rain and the compact behind.
When they met the guys in Galway, they had a story to tell. The men examined the place where the side mirror was missing and the wiring was hanging loose.
“The mirror really flew off and hit the car behind you?” Bruce gave Jane an I-can’t-believe-you-did-that look.
Cheryl came to her friend’s defense. “The car was tailgating. It’s not her fault.”
Jane took one deep, calming breath and gave her friends a smile. “How was your drive, Bruce? Anything exciting happen to you three?”
“Doug fell asleep in the car.” Bruce gave his buddy a cheesy grin.
Olivia snapped, “Douglas, you missed the views of the ocean waves breaking on the rocks. The narrow walled lanes.”
“I didn’t sleep until we got to the highway part.” Doug shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a bit shamefaced.
Bruce shook his head in denial, squashed his palms together, laid his cheek on the back of one hand, head tilted and eyes closed as if in sleep, then pointed back at Doug. Everyone laughed.
“Let’s go explore.” Cheryl tugged her husband’s arm. The sun slid behind a cloud and the rain started to mist, a steady drizzle, the kind that penetrates to the skin even though not a heavy downpour. Bruce popped open an umbrella. The rest of them followed his example and took off after him down the cobblestone streets of old Galway. Dale and Jane shared an umbrella, their heads close together under the dripping nylon cloth.
They happened across a street market, with bushel baskets full of pungent olives piled high, briny clams in the shell, and loaves of yeasty bread stacked on wooden shelves. The mist trickled to a few drops once they passed through the market to the other end, so they flapped their wet umbrellas shut and stowed them under their arms. On a side road no wider than an alley, street performers sang Irish melodies while standing next to overturned hats filled with tourists’ change.
Ireland was filled with romance, from the small cafés and boutiques, the sing-song, melodic voices in the air, and the coziness of the drizzling mist. Dale looped his arm over Jane’s shoulder as they stopped to gaze in the window of a jewelry store.
He called to the others, “Hey, guys, we’ll catch up with you later. Let’s meet in an hour back at the marketplace.” The other two couples agreed and walked off hand-in-hand as Dale and Jane turned back to the store window.
Jane spied a diamond ring nestled in a square of blue felt.
Dale asked, “Shall we go in?”
She nodded as excitement gurgled in the pit of her stomach. He pushed open the door, but the store was overflowing with other shoppers. They squeezed to the rear of the pencil-thin space, then made their way again to the front, but all the clerks were busy.
“We’ll come back later.” He took her elbow to steer her outside.
The shop next door was a new and used bookstore. She said, “Let’s go in here. Afterward we can check to see if the jewelry store has cleared out.”
“Good idea.”
Jane stepped through the entrance and breathed in the musty scent of leather bindings combined with a potpourri of cinnamon and apple. This store was much roomier than the jewelry store. “I’m going to look around. I could use a book to read when I have some down time.”
“Okay, hon. I’m going to look at these brochures.” He crossed over to the section on Ireland’s tourist sights.
The new releases kept her occupied. After choosing a cozy mystery, she shuffled along the health and wellness row. Perhaps she might find a text on psychotic conditions, something to explain Alsander’s ailment. Filing past books promoting new diet fads endorsed by celebrities, something about colon cleansing, holistic approaches to fitness, and alternative treatments, she stopped at the texts on medications and plucked one off the display. She ran her finger down the index and thumbed through the list of pills prescribed for various psychoses. There were many with descriptions of alarming side effects. She replaced the volume. Right next to the pill book was a hardcover with the title in gilded print, Excited Delirium Syndrome and Death.
She yanked the book off the shelf. The weight and size of the manual felt familiar in her hands. She flipped through the pages and checked the price. The first chapter was chock-full of medical jargon, but she tucked the volume under her arm next to the cozy mystery and continued to the cash register.
“Is an internet café close by?” Jane asked the cashier as Dale drifted up to her.
“Two blocks down, turn right at Merchant’s Road and around the corner from there.”
Jane thanked the clerk, seized her bag of books, and gave Dale a let’s-go smile. “I’d like to check my emails, if you don’t mind. My tablet computer is back in my room, and I don’t have email set up on my phone.” There was probably a lot more information on the internet, if there was a whole book written on the subject, and she was impatient to find out.
He greeted her smile with a quick one of his own. “Sure. Let’s go.”
They dashed out of the shop and along the old street in search of the café. The place was not easy to locate after all, but Dale stopped and asked a couple of students with backpacks suspended over their shoulders. Once they found the café, they purchased user cards and took seats in front of computer terminals.
She queried excited delirium, and countless blog postings appeared, including articles on excessive force and restraints. After spending time reading several blogs, she logged in remotely to her work email and scanned her contacts for the county coroner, a witness from one of her wrongful death cases. As a paralegal, she knew many medical experts. She gnawed on her lower lip, composing her questions. Had the coroner heard of the condition, excited delirium? Could a person with excited delirium die from a choke hold that only seemed to last a matter of moments? She hit the send button. She needed to know. It was a puzzle, even if the police weren’t investigating the death after all.
Dale finished scrolling through his emails and turned off his terminal. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Everything all right at the restaurant?” Jane lifted her bag of books from the table and scrambled off her chair.
“It’s not going too well. The health inspectors have paid a visit, and Polly’s worried they’re going to shut her down.”
“Can they do that?” She tapped her knuckle to her chin.
“Oh, yes.” Dale’s mood looked as gray as the rainy day, so Jane rubbed his shoulder. When he didn’t respond she slid her hands around his neck and put her cheek next to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment. “Thanks for being patient with me. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.”
“I wish things were going better for you at home.” Jane rocked him in a hug.
“It’ll work itself out.”
“That’s right.” She pulled her face away, now a few inches from his. “And, you promised me the best day of my life, remember?”
He dropped his scowl and gave her a slow smile full of possibilities. “So I did. Are you having a good time? Do you like it here?”
“I love it, in spite of all the craziness at the castle. How about you?”
He drew her closer. “I love it here, too, and I love you…and there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask.”
“
What?” She breathed in his masculine scent, and the tingling returned in the pit of her stomach. Would he suggest going back to the jewelry store?
“Excuse me. Are you done?” Another customer wanted to use Dale’s computer station.
They broke apart at the interruption. Dale took hold of her hand and ushered her outside. Jane held her breath when he glanced up and down the street, as if searching for a little privacy. Then he looked at his watch. “Oh, we’re late. Everyone’s probably waiting for us.”
They hurried on their way to the street market to find their friends. The sun shone down once more with yellow, watery light reflecting in the shallow puddles. Dale slung a pair of dark wrap-around sunglasses onto his face, looking like a very continental James Bond. Jane tipped her face to the sun to enjoy the brief warmth before another rain squall could arrive. As they passed a flower vendor, she made a mental note to return for another look at the gorgeous blossoms. After they splashed across the road, Jane spotted their friends at an outdoor café.
Cheryl stood up to signal them over. “I checked my restaurant guide. I found a good place for lunch, but it’s too far to walk.” Her friends held white ceramic mugs containing what looked like cappuccinos topped with decorative swirls of cream.
“Sounds good.” Jane and Dale crowded next to the table waiting for the group to gather their things together before making their way to a taxi stand. Cheryl gave the address to one of the drivers and all six crowded into the van-sized cab.
Once inside the restaurant and seated, they had their lunches ordered in record time. Jane requested the corned beef hash. Everyone else ordered the same, except Olivia, who asked for the vegetable shepherd’s pie. They made small talk for the next fifteen minutes, after which time their meals arrived with beautiful presentations—fresh chives and chopped parsley sprinkled on top—and smelling savory.
The others dug in, but Jane extracted her new purchase from her bag. “I bought a book on excited delirium. Look.”
“I’m surprised there’s a book on it.” Olivia flicked her gaze upward. She passed it to Doug without a glance. The others took a quick look inside before conveying it to the next person.
“Why’d you bother to get this?” Bruce handed the volume back.
“Even if the police aren’t investigating anymore, I’m still curious.”
Bruce said, “The investigation seems to be closed. I’m just glad to be out of the spotlight.”
“It is bizarre if you think about it. What a way to go.” Olivia grimaced like she’d taken a bite of something that burned her tongue. “Blecch. Choking to death.”
“Yes. A horrible death, choking. Do you think Mairéid was the one who had Alsander in the choke hold or was it Griffin?” Jane darted a glance at Bruce, then Dale.
Dale answered first. “I wish I could tell you, Jane.”
“It could’ve been either of them,” added Bruce, “or the other guy, the one with Mairéid. I wonder who he is.”
Olivia jabbed a hole through the top of her steaming shepherd’s pie. “What’re you going to do, Jane? Are you going to question them?”
The ex-policeman in Doug came out when he warned her, “You’d better not.” When he caught someone in illegal activities in his corporate security job, he turned them over to the police, to let the police do their job. He’d made that clear many times—leave the investigation to the police.
“That’s right, Jane.” Bruce agreed with him, as a comrade-in-arms.
Dale must have gotten the memo, too. “No need to investigate this time, Jane.”
“Doug, Bruce, do either of you know anything about this condition? Had you ever come across anything like this when you were on the police force?”
They screwed up their faces and shook their heads.
“Olivia, how about you? When you were working with the homeless, did you ever see this mental illness?” Jane didn’t bother to ask Cheryl, an art curator, or Dale, an electrician.
Olivia denied any knowledge, as well, then Bruce started in with his off-color humor, as she returned the book to her bag. Her mind wandered as she took a bite of corned beef hash. She was barely listening, dreaming of getting off by herself with Dale once more.
Bruce swirled a hand in her face. “Jane, what’s the matter with you? You aren’t gasping and clutching your ears.”
“I heard you. Is everything a phallic symbol?” Jane twirled her fork in the air, then set it down, since it was probably not the best thing to wave around.
“Bruce will say ‘yes.’ ” Doug laughed. “Let’s toast to that.”
Everyone bumped glasses and Jane lifted her coffee cup. “How about this? How can a cup relate?”
Bruce smirked, “Oh, yeah. A cup? Of course, it can.”
Swatting her husband’s arm, Cheryl said, “Men.”
Olivia changed the subject. “We got a call from our daughter in New York. She’s coming to Colorado for a visit as soon as we get home. I’ll make sure she stops to see you, Jane.”
“Nice. Something to look forward to. I got a text from my son. He checked on my puppies for me, Nick and Nora. The dog sitter’s doing a good job.” Jane displayed her cellphone with the screenshot of the dogs her son, Caleb, had texted her, and noticed Dale checking his text messages, too.
“How are the double Ns?” asked Cheryl. The Breewoods had moved from Denver to Portland a year or so before. Cheryl seemed to miss Jane’s dogs and was always asking about them.
Bruce cracked up.
Jane slapped her thigh. “Okay. How are the double Ns funny? She’s just talking about Nick and Nora.” The men looked skyward and sighed. Jane swallowed back a biting retort. “O-kay. In your dreams, guys.”
“That’s what’s on everyone’s mind, what makes the world go round, sex and love. And death. The big mysteries in life.” Doug fingered his red, bristling mustache.
“Death is certainly a mystery. Especially Alsander’s.” Cheryl chewed a bite thoughtfully.
Jane agreed, then went on to regale them with amusing stories from her first trip to Ireland, avoiding any mention of her deceased husband, Hugh.
Soon it was time to return to the castle. The women gathered their packages, and the men paid the bill. They took a taxi back to the car park where they’d left their rentals. They switched up who was riding with whom. Doug drove the first car with Olivia settled in the front seat to keep him company, while Jane rode in Bruce’s car, wedged in the back seat with Cheryl. Dale was in the front, busy responding to texts.
Bruce steered around a curve in the road and stopped short when sheep skittered across the lane. He stomped his foot once more on the gas pedal to swerve past them. Jane snapped a picture out the car window to capture a memory of the white sheep with black faces while they hoofed it along the road next to the flowering fuchsias, like tiny ballerinas in red tutus dancing on the hedgerows.
Once back at the castle, Jane and Dale separated from the others. They ran into Mairéid and Fiona on the second floor. Fiona, with hands covered in bright yellow rubber gloves, gripped a bucket of cleaning supplies. Mairéid was attired in her usual black.
Jane said, “We just got back from Galway.”
Mairéid gave her a penetrating look. “Did you learn anything new?”
“I love Galway. I think it’s one of my favorite—” Jane narrowed her eyes and clutched Dale’s hand. “What do you mean, did I learn anything? I…we…are getting to know Ireland.”
Mairéid pursed her lips and arched her dark eyebrows in her menacing way. “The Garda Síochána are back. Everyone needs to meet in the dining hall.”
Chapter 6
Jane kept her gaze on her feet as she and Dale descended the stairway and joined the rest of the dinner club members in the lobby. Giving each other questioning looks, they paraded past the reception desk into the dining hall where Griffin was already waiting. Mairéid found a seat opposite him and the club members took chairs next to each other in a row.
With two guards
at his side, Chief Superintendent John Nolan faced the dinner club. He looked first at Bruce. “I understand you are related to Ryan Breewood, the chemist.”
Bruce nodded politely, then his expression appeared uneasy and his posture on edge. “Yes. He’s my cousin.” He clasped his hands together in a tight grip.
“Is that why you’re visiting Limerick?”
“Partially, yes, because Limerick’s centrally located. We thought we’d take day trips from here to see the sights.”
Nolan threw a glance at Griffin before returning his attention to Bruce. “Mr. O’Doherty, here, mentioned your cousin was the one who recommended the castle B&B to you.”
Bruce rubbed an earlobe between his fingers. “I may have mentioned it to Griffin when I booked this place.”
“It’s hard to believe Ryan Breewood would recommend Alsander O’Doherty’s castle to anyone, given the feud they were having.”
“What? I’m not aware of any disagreement.” Bruce drew in a breath, but almost as if he was expecting something like this. Jane drew in her breath, too, on his behalf, although she was unaware of any bad blood between the two men.
“Alsander O’Doherty threatened to have Ryan Breewood’s chemist’s license revoked. They were heard arguing over the price of his last prescription.”
Bruce creased his eyes shut and rubbed his ear harder. “That’s easy to explain. Alsander had some anxiety. He was easily upset. Isn’t that right, Griffin?”
“That’s right.” Griffin sat forward in his seat, his elbows resting on the fringe of the tablecloth.
“Why are you asking me about my cousin? What does Ryan have to do with anything?” Bruce adjusted his glasses, as he always did when he was nervous.
“Alsander’s toxicology screen has come back. There are questionable results.”
The dinner club members sat in confused silence for a moment. The two O’Doherty cousins, positioned across from each other, could have been facing a mirror. They both wet their lips, the tips of their tongues darting out quickly, and both of their eyes appeared hooded, serpentine. But Griffin leaned forward, even more, as if waiting for further news, while Mairéid leaned backward, so far back she looked like a snake ready to lunge at any minute.
A Stewed Observation Page 5