a Touch of Revenge (Romantic Mystery - book 6): The Everly Gray Adventures

by L. j. Charles

  “How’d you know?”

  “It’s the best. She saves it for people she really likes.”

  Cait had settled into the chair, and me on the bed before Pierce flowed into the room, grinning. “Led her through a couple side streets then back to the pub. Left her looking like she’d had a run-in with a two-by-four. We’re good here for thirty.”

  Brought back to reality, Cait paled. “I-I’ll get on with it then so you can be on your way out of the country.”

  I frowned. Like that was gonna happen.

  Pierce nodded.

  I must have looked as befuddled as Fion Connor had earlier. What the hell was up with the nod?

  And then Cait started talking. “The room.” She shuddered. “Like I said, I broke in this morning, because Nolla was attacked. You know about that, right?”

  Pierce and I did twin nods.

  “My mother badgered Nolla with questions, was furious she didn’t fight off the attackers, and slapped her around when she found out Nolla had allowed the phone with the photos to get pinched.” Cait swallowed hard. “Nolla was pretty beat up when my mother kicked her off the grounds. Not that she won’t be back. Nolla lives at the estate and works for my mother at the Cockington Village Tea Room. I do too, but not very often. Anyway, everyone who lives on Connor land stays clear of my mother unless they have no other choice, and Nolla doesn’t have a choice. She’s family. I’m not sure what hold my mother has on her, but it’s got to be ugly. Anyway, my mother summons everyone who has a cottage on the estate grounds for an occasional audience. It’s always a horrible, intimidating scene. I’m ashamed to say I hide, or find a way to leave when mother’s having one of her Queen-of-the-Estate fits.”

  Pierce had hunkered down near the chair, probably to make himself as small as possible so Cait didn’t feel threatened. Or maybe he just wanted to be ready if Fion broke into our room. He tapped Cait’s hand. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Cait. You did the smart thing.”

  She gave him a sloppy smile, then looked at me. “Seeing her hurt Nolla that way, it was just all I could take. I probably would have left it alone, but Nolla described you, and Mr. Pierce. Said you were asking questions about Fion Connor. My mother started pacing, mumbling to herself about finally being able to finish it.”

  A chill lodged in my bones. I scooted into a cross-legged position, and curled around myself. Fion Connor wanted me dead? Seriously?

  Pierce glanced at me, eyes unreadable, then switched his attention back to Cait.

  “Of course I didn’t know you were the person she was ranting about. Not then,” Cait said, pushing her hair away from her face. “If I had, I’d probably have panicked. Anyway, I don’t know what it was, intuition or something, I guess, but I had to find out what my mother had been hiding in that room all these years.”

  My breath stuck in my throat.

  Cait’s eyes filled with tears. “It was full of pictures of you, El. From the time you were a baby until, well, recently I think. No local photos, though. I don’t think she knows for sure that you’re here, at least not yet. You need to leave. Go far away. Now. Tonight.”

  She bounced out of the chair and knelt beside the bed, taking my hand. “My mother is crazy sick, El. She wants to kill you, I’m sure of it.”

  Cait had probably got that one right. I leaned over and gave her a hug. “I’m not easy to kill. How about you draw us a map of the Connor estate so Pierce and I can see exactly where that room is located?”

  “No!” She jumped up, started pacing. “You can’t go there. Don’t you see? She’s crazy, and crazy people are wicked strong.”

  Pierce stood, caught Cait in mid-pace. “I’m trained for this, and I promise you, Everly won’t be alone or in danger.”

  My temper hit flashpoint, then ricocheted around in my skull frying brain cells. But I’d been trained well, too. Whitney Boulay had a temper almost as volatile as mine, and if she could remain cool and professional when confronted with a chest-beating male, so could I. And wonder of wonders, it only took me one long inhalation to find my inner calm and speak rationally. “The more important question is, how are we going to keep Cait safe?”

  “Oh, no problem there,” Cait said. “I store a go-bag at a friend’s house, a guy my mother doesn’t know about. I’ll spend the night there, then catch the train for the commune where my father lives. Mother doesn’t bother me when I’m visiting father, because he lives in a pacifist community, and there are always people around. Witnesses. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to take off for a week or so until she calms down.”

  I had to ask. “Why don’t you just stay at the commune? Live there?”

  “I like to work, and there’s not many options there. Besides, all my friends are here.” She wrinkled her nose. “Those are stupid excuses. The real reason is that I’m heir to my mother’s estate, and if I don’t know what’s going on, I won’t be a very good landlord when it’s my turn. Bottom line: the commune is in Ireland, and, like it or not, I belong here.”

  Pierce turned fifty shades of white.

  TWELVE

  CAIT DIDN’T NOTICE PIERCE’S SUDDEN plunge into ghosthood. Thank goodness, because his expression was shuttered, and experience told me there was no way he’d be open to any discussion on the Irish versus English topic. Pierce, and Annie for that matter, had spent enough time as super spies that I suspected their DNA had mutated to include an inscrutable chromosome. Although Pierce’s had gone screwy the last few days. Until he met me in Torquay, I’d never seen Tynan react visibly to anything. Except when he held Maddie for the first time, but that didn’t count, because newborns have a special kind of power.

  His odd response to Cait’s pragmatic reasons for living at the estate was enough to push my curiosity into overdrive, and it definitely bumped turning my ESP fingers loose on him right up to the top of my to-do list.

  And he knew it.

  The glare in those blue eyes would have cut the heart out of a lesser person. Fortunately, I was enough woman for the likes of Tynan Pierce. An icy wash spread down my spine. Where the hell had that thought come from? Frantically, I shoved it into my never-go-there-again storage box—the indestructible one made of solid gold.

  I wiggled my fingers at him. Seriously. There was no other option, because I was definitely going to touch him with the intent to trespass.

  While my thoughts were engaged elsewhere, Cait had drawn a detailed diagram of both the grounds and the interior of the mansion. She handed it to Pierce with a frown. “I’ve marked the best door to break in and included the alarm code—oh, and I listed times when my mother is pretty much always away from the estate. Very rarely does she change her behavior patterns, but if I were you, I’d use the ten to midnight window tonight. You’d have the added advantage of her being distracted by my, um, escape.”

  I checked out the drawing, then tugged the copy of the address my mother had written, and handed it to Cait. “Is this the address?”

  “Yes. Estates don’t have normal addresses, though. You never would have found it if you hadn’t followed Nolla.” She handed the paper back to me.

  That cleared up my question about why Mrs. Brumley hadn’t recognized it.

  Cait glanced outside. “I have to get going. There’s a small window where I’ll be free to move around before Mother sends people out to look for me.”

  “Put my hoodie on. I’ll walk you to your friend’s place.” Pierce’s tone allowed no discussion. He folded Cait’s diagram and tucked it in the front pocket of his cargoes, then leveled his gaze on me. “Stay here, Everly.”

  A huge sigh built in my chest, and holding it in about broke my ribs, but I managed a nod, gave Cait a hug, and locked the door behind them. It took me two seconds to find the tablet Cait had used to draw the diagram and dig out a pencil from the bedside stand drawer. It was a silly, old-fashioned idea, but what if I could pull up the imprint of the diagram from the notepad? It would be stupid not to try, and much easier than getting that piece of pa
per from Pierce. He’d had that look, the one that says the little woman would be much safer at home than gadding about taking responsibility for her own personal revenge.

  It worked! Not great, but good enough that when I took a picture of my lead-covered diagram and enlarged it on my phone, I could read the details clearly. Well, almost clearly. And the times Cait had listed—the first one was exactly one hour away. Probably because Fion would be out looking for her daughter. And Pierce probably had no intention of coming back to pick me up after he saw Cait safely to her friend’s house.

  Like that was going to fly. I was already dressed in B and E clothes, so I only needed to tie my hair into a tight knot, slip into my hoodie, and figure out a way to hide in the Citroën. Good thing I was an undersized woman. Leaving a light on in our room (so Pierce would think I was still waiting for him like an obedient partner), I scuttled down the hallway, checked out the kitchen—empty, thank the goddesses—and made it out the side door without getting caught in a discussion with Mrs. Brumley.

  One look at the car told me the boot was only one possible hiding place. It would hold me, and I wouldn’t be immediately visible.

  I stood there for a minute, contemplating the situation. Hiding wasn’t sitting well with me. It was something the old Everly would do, and I wasn’t that woman any longer. Pierce and I were partners, and I gratefully accepted his help and extensive knowledge of the world of covert operations, but it was my revenge, and leaving me behind wasn’t an option. Protective male instincts be damned.

  I boosted myself onto the Citroën hood, sat, and waited.

  Naturally Pierce spotted me right off. And was he fighting laughter? Yep, there was a definite quirk going on with his upper lip. “Ready to roll?”

  I nodded, jumped off the car, and settled into the passenger seat. “What’s the plan? Whatever it is, it needs to include me getting a good look at that secret room.”

  “I’ll handle the driving, the rest is your baby.”

  I stifled the overwhelming fear knotting my chest. What if Connor was home? It wasn’t a slam-dunk situation now that I’d met Cait. Shooting, possibly killing, her mother wasn’t something I could brush off as justifiable revenge. But there was no doubt Fion Connor wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me, and be damn happy about it. My mother, my father, me. Yes, I could defend myself, but darn if I didn’t want her to answer some questions first. “You have an extra Sig to loan me?”

  Pierce tagged the weapon from his ankle holster, handed it to me. “Smith&Wesson. Know how to use it?”

  “Yeah. Whitney has one.” I turned my fingers down to low, checked the weapon, and managed to keep the images at bay, then I grinned. “Fair warning. I fell in love with her Smith&Wesson boot knife and now it’s mine. I hope you’re not too attached to this gun.”

  “I’m willing to share.” Pierce parked in a turnout about a quarter mile from the road leading to the Connor estate, then turned toward me. “How do you want to do this?”

  I flattened my pencil diagram on the dashboard, flicked on my phone flashlight, and aimed it at the paper.

  “Resourceful,” he said, “but use this.” Pierce handed me Cait’s original diagram, laughter dancing behind his eyes.

  A warning lodged in the back of my mind. He was way too calm about this, and letting me take the lead was unnerving. I didn’t ask. It was one of those times when a girl just had to go with the flow.

  I pointed to a door she’d drawn in at the rear of the mansion. “I’ll go in here, where Cait suggested. It’s only two rooms away from Fion Connor’s study, so it’ll be a quick in and out deal. I’d love to linger and go through the whole friggin’ estate, but tonight isn’t the time. Maybe after Cait is safely in Ireland.”

  “What makes you think Ireland is safe?” There was pain in his voice. “Eamon Grady is there.”

  I wanted, needed to question him, but had to stay focused on the mission at hand. “The chances of Cait running into Grady have to be slight.”

  I tapped the diagram. “After I get into the secret room, I’m going to take pictures, hopefully without disturbing anything. I don’t want to sully her territory with the slightest trace of my presence there. That sort of thing can send an insecure woman into a hormonal hissy fit.”

  Pierce blinked. “Insecure?”

  “Well, yeah. A woman solid in her self-esteem wouldn’t need to bully anyone, especially not someone like Cait.”

  The sound he made was somewhere between a snort and a grunt, and I could practically see him tucking away that tidbit of information for later use. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come back to leave tooth marks on my backside. I pointed at the spot on the diagram labeled ‘Fion’s office.’ “If it feels right, I’ll search her office. Not as much chance of her noticing things out of place as in the secret room.”

  Pierce quirked an eyebrow.

  “Because other people have access to her office. It’s probably common for things to be askew. Besides, I plan to turn my fingers loose in there, so shouldn’t have to shift anything out of position. She’ll never know I was there.” We batted around a few different scenarios, exploring each one thoroughly, until I was completely confident my original plan was the best.

  I checked my cell. “Time to go.” Switching off the interior light so it wouldn’t flash when I opened the car door, I snagged a pair of gloves from my handbag and worked my hands into them. I liked them snug. Less chance of fumbling.

  “Ready?” His brogue was heavy.

  “Yep.”

  “Call me. Leave the line open.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. Pierce was back to his normal bossy-protective mode, and my confidence sighed with relief. “Will do.”

  I dialed, he tapped his phone and nodded. It was almost eleven o’clock. Past time for me to go. The hit of adrenaline that slammed into my bloodstream pushed an icy calm through my brain. I folded the diagram and stuffed it in my hip pocket, secured the Smith&Wesson in my waistband, and exited the Citroën silently—the door closing with the barest of snicks.

  I faded into the night.

  Darting from shadow to shadow, I made my way along one of two paths that didn’t have security sensors. Thank the gods and goddesses for Cait and her diagram, because I’d never have suspected Fion Connor of leaving any approach to her precious estate unguarded. Apparently she liked to sneak in and out without triggering the security cameras. And didn’t that leave my imagination wide open for speculation?

  The door was double locked, and it took me longer than I’d have liked to pick both of them. By the time I got inside and punched in the alarm code—using the blunt end of my lock pick since I didn’t want to be blasted with any images other than what I found in Fion’s private study—my palms were slick with sweat, and the inside of the gloves uncomfortably damp.

  The interior of the mansion reeked of desperation and fear. I tried not to breathe too deeply because the energy was powerful and rank with negative vibrations. There was no doubt Fion Connor had some extra-sensory gifts, and I would need to thoroughly protect myself before I touched a single thing in her study.

  “I’m in,” I whispered to Pierce.

  “Keep the line open.” His voice was strong and steady. Just what I needed to hear.

  I tucked the phone away and worked my way toward Fion’s office, breathing a sigh of relief that the mansion had been artistically designed with low-level lighting throughout the hallways and common rooms. Keeping tight to the darkest area of the hall, I braced my fingers against my thighs. If I accidently touched anything before I reached my target it could overload my ESP circuits with whatever whammy Fion might have conjured. What had appeared to be a short distance on Cait’s diagram turned out to be a long hike down the hallway.

  When I neared Connor’s office, a subtle blast of cold seeped into the hall from the office door, and it brought me to a dead stop. It was…odd. Creepy. Almost black-witchy. Was Connor a bad witch? Did real dark witches actually exist?

  Conside
ring my own gifts, I wasn’t in any position to judge one way or the other, but there was some kind of energy field protecting that door. Had she been messing with my mother’s formula? If so, there was no telling how powerful, or crazy, she was. Ingesting various combinations of the plants Mom had used in her concoction could have caused all kinds of cellular mutations.

  I palmed my cell. “Connor has placed an energetic shield on her office door. I’m turning the phone off because the backlash from dismantling it could fry an open circuit.”

  Silence. And then a grunt. “Call me when you’re in.”

  I clicked the phone off and stepped back against the far wall to get a better view of the energy field. I’d had a lot of experience picking the kind of metal locks Fion had installed on the door, but little to no experience untangling anything like the mess of energy floating in front of it.

  I closed my eyes, and touched my belly diamond. If I ever needed my talisman, now was the moment. Kahuna Aukele had been working with me, trying to teach me to shut down the left side of my brain and completely surrender to what the right side sensed. Most people hone in on an object with their eyes open, but like all kahunas, my grandfather had other ideas. I let go of logic, and watched the door through closed eyelids, letting my mind absorb the flow of energy. Typically the right brain takes a snapshot of a big picture, then shifts to details. At first, all I could “see” was total chaos, but, ever so slowly, the details began to emerge.

  Connor had somehow created a locked grid of energy, and considering I was doing a teeth-chattering shiver from eight feet away, it would probably freeze me if I got within touching distance. Instant icicle. And that was definitely a bad plan.

  Next up: destroy the damn thing. And it had to be fast, because the clock was ticking. I thumbed on my cell to check the time. I’d been on the property thirty minutes—thirty to go.

  No time to do anything but work from the illogical assumption that Fion was a black witch. According to the little I’d read about the Craft, witches worked with the elements, so my best bet for destroying the energy shield would be earth, air, fire, or water. Right. I had a solid acquaintance with handguns and knives, and I was good with healing energy, but this…unless I tried healing it rather than destroying it.