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

by L. j. Charles

  Siofra jumped up. “No, that is not allowed. We provide refuge for everyone who requests it, and who is actively studying and living according to our beliefs.”

  Pierce shot to his feet, faced his mother. “Grady is genetically incapable of love.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ll move our bags out to the guest house.”

  Stunned, I stared after him. The unflappable Tynan Pierce had just flapped.

  Siofra nodded. “Of course I’d prefer you stay here with us, but you’ll need your privacy.”

  “I’ll respect your values as much as possible, Ma,” Pierce said, then disappeared out the back door.

  Siofra dropped back into her chair. “I apologize for our outburst, Everly. As you might have guessed, Lorcán and I have been discussing this with Tynan for a while now. He doesn’t come home often, as there’s a part of him that feels unworthy to be here because of the path he’s chosen in life.” She cradled my hand between hers. “I hope you can help him understand that his work stems from a deep desire for peace and…justice in the world. We embrace that completely, but cannot condone the methods our son employs to achieve his goals.”

  Her touch was warm, comforting. Fortunately her skin didn’t come into contact with my fingertips. Unfortunately, her explanation put me smack between my need for revenge and the much, much more difficult path of acceptance. “Eamon Grady was directly responsible for my parents’ deaths, and possibly my husband’s. I feel no tolerance for him. None. All these years he’s been free to live however he chooses, while my parents…” I choked.

  “Would they want you to seek revenge?” Her expression radiated innocence.

  I shook my head. “No. But there’s more at stake here. My mother was a forensic anthropologist, and she had a gift, an affinity with plants. She worked for our government, creating a substance that could be used for biological warfare, but I know she would have refused to release the formula until she’d found an antidote. She was murdered before…”

  Siofra squeezed my hand. “You and my son have the same inborn desire for peace and justice. It’s a part of both your souls that is undeniable, even though neither of you is completely able to see it yet.”

  I couldn’t let her go on thinking I was good inside, not when I had every intention of ending Eamon Grady’s life. Not until after I had all the facts, of course. “But—”

  “We’ll always differ in how to implement our beliefs, but the core, where they originate, is the same. You and Tynan, you’re quite perfect together, and I’m pleased you’ll be part of our family, Everly Gray.”

  Say what? A panicked rush of guilt popped me right out of my chair. “Oh, no. You’re… That’s not how it is. Pierce is my backup, my friend, but we’re not—”

  “Mothers see things.” Siofra smiled. It was one of those Cheshire cat moments when you knew you’d been left out of the loop. My panic shot up another level.

  With perfect timing, Pierce threw open the kitchen door. “Ready to work, Belisama?”

  I practically flew to his side. “Absolutely. Ready.” And then my manners surfaced. “Thank you so much for the wonderful meal, Siofra, and the…conversation.”

  Her lips twitched. She glided across the room, gave Pierce a hug, and then it was my turn. Somehow Siofra’s touch saturated me with another burst of peace and love. It was overwhelming, and left me in a fog until Pierce nudged me out the kitchen door and into the sharp coolness of the evening mist.

  “Cottage is in a clearing just beyond those trees.” He had a firm grip on my elbow.

  I jerked free. “You knew Eamon Grady was living here.”

  “Yes.”

  Confusion rattled my thoughts. “You should have told me, and make no mistake I’m pissed as hell at you. And surely there had to be a better way to deal with this than bringing my issues into your parents’ home. Why didn’t we just kidnap him? Or get super sniper Annie over here to shoot him? From a distance? No, never mind. That wouldn’t work at all. This is my revenge. My fight. And Annie’s a mom now.”

  “Grady won’t voluntarily leave the site. He has immunity of sorts here because it’s a religious community.”

  What the hell? “That’s never stopped you before. You’re the guy who can get in and out of places without leaving a trace. Even if you did have to pack Grady out, you’d… Oh. It’s a moral thing. You wouldn’t contaminate your parents’ home with our kind of work. I get that. So now what?”

  I didn’t give him time to answer. “And what about Cait? How could you possibly have kept her destination from me when you knew exactly where in Ireland she was going? You’ve always kept me on a tight need-to-know leash, but this could have been dangerous for both of us. Suppose Grady saw me, recognized me. We don’t know if he’s communicating with Fion Connor or not. She’s got all those damn pictures of me, an entire life that I have no memory of. It’s so wrong. Evil.”

  We’d reached the cottage, and Pierce shoved the door open. “Let’s take this inside.”

  There was a fire burning in the hearth, and lighted candles on the mantle. The room glowed soft and romantic, and was fragrant with pine and lavender. Sofia had been here, prepared this for us. “Your mother is a saint. It’s unnerving. Nice, but totally unnerving.”

  Pierce grinned. “She wants grandchildren.”

  I stopped breathing, and the air lodged in my throat, painful. “Right. Well, good luck with that.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it, Belisama.”

  The trembling started at my nape, made its way to my toes. “Cait.” Her name came out in a panicked, impatient blast of air.

  Pierce rubbed his thumb over my cheek. “I had no idea this was her destination. It was an unfortunate surprise.”

  “But Siofra said she visits often. How could you have missed that?”

  He poured two glasses of the merlot from the bottle his mother had left breathing on the coffee table, handed me one. “You’re going to need this.”

  My insides knotted. I sipped. “Whatever it is you’re going to tell me, is it why you’ve been acting strange, why you’re skin has been that sickly shade of gray?”

  “Yeah.” Pierce dropped into one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. “As Máthair explained, out of respect for my parents’ beliefs and traditions, I rarely visit. A few hours once a year or so. We talk. I phone them often, but what I do, my entire life, is a slap at their lifestyle, at the way I was raised.” He gulped some wine. “This evening was the first time I’ve seen Cait, and my parents have never mentioned her.”

  So the image I’d seen truly was from the future. It didn’t happen that often, and always surprised me. I cozied into the chair opposite Pierce. “Okay. We should probably talk to her while we’re here. See if she knows of any connection between her mother and Eamon Grady. Maybe their vendetta against my family has always been a joint effort.”

  He stared at me, his eyes shuttered. “The man in the wheelchair was Eamon Grady.”

  TWENTY

  THE GLASS OF WINE SLIPPED from my hand, and a wedge of something dangerous crawled under my skin. “Cait’s father is Eamon Grady? That’s… I’m not sure what that is.”

  But my gut knew. The minute Cait leaned over the man in the wheelchair, my stomach had done a drop-kick. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Pierce had turned fifty shades of white back in Torquay when Cait mentioned the Irish commune for a different reason altogether. “You knew, didn’t you? Back when Cait told us she was going to stay with her father?”

  “I wasn’t sure.” Pierce bent to pick up the empty wine glass. “Don’t move. I’ll get a towel to mop this up.”

  Damn it. I’d spilled red wine all over the rug, I desperately needed a shower, and some time alone to screw my head on straight, and I couldn’t get my legs to work well enough to move out of the damn chair. I checked out the doors leading from the living room. Three. Two bedrooms and a bath?

  Pierce had gone through an archway into what I assumed was the kitchen. I could hear him rooting through cu
pboards and drawers, so obviously he hadn’t found cleaning supplies, and we needed to get the wine cleaned up before it stained. There should be tissues, or something in the bathroom. I braced my hands on the chair and lurched to my feet. Move, Everly. You can schedule a meltdown right after you scrub the rug.

  I made my way to the first door, opened it. Bedroom. The covers had been turned down and there were chocolates resting on pristine white pillowcases. Two pillows, two chocolates, one bed. An open door led to an en suite bathroom with a double shower, Jacuzzi tub, and fresh flowers on the countertop. It wasn’t a honeymoon cottage, but darn close. I sat on the edge of the tub and sucked in a few breaths before I ventured back to the living room, totally forgetting about cleaning supplies. Focus, Everly.

  Two more doors to try.

  One was a closet, the other opened to another bathroom, and there wasn’t a single romantic thing about it. I zeroed in on the cabinet beneath the sink and wrestled my attention back to spilled wine and cleaning supplies. I found several sponges and liquid soap under the sink, gathered them up, and then hustled back to the living room. Pierce was on his hands and knees rubbing at the spot on the carpet. “Here, let me help. I found some soap—”

  He sat back on his heels. “I got it.”

  There was a damp spot on the carpet, but no stain. “Thanks.” I stared at the stuff in my hands. “I’ll just put this back.” So awkward. What was wrong with me? “And then maybe I’ll take a shower before I try for another glass of wine. The hot water will clear my mind, then afterward we can talk about how to deal with Grady and Cait.”

  His response was a low-pitched grunt I hadn’t heard before. This wasn’t going well.

  I dumped the cleaning supplies in the bathroom, then returned to the living room for my suitcase. Clean clothes were beyond necessary. “Do you mind if I…” The living room was empty. So was the kitchen. The window over the sink looked onto a wooded area. It wouldn’t have been impossible to find him in the twilight, but I had no idea how quickly darkness fell here. The faint outline of a quarter moon peeped out from behind the clouds spotlighting him, hiking down a trail at a brisk pace. I threw the door open and rushed after him. “Tynan Pierce!” My heart pounded, frantic.

  He stopped, turned, quirked an eyebrow.

  I skidded to a stop in front of him on the damp leaves. “You’re not thinking of confronting Grady and Cait without me, are you?”

  “No.” He rocked on his heels. “Clearing my head, Hot Shot. I believe that was the next item on your to-do list.”

  I was such an idiot. Of course he wouldn’t… Yes, damn it, he would. But he wouldn’t lie about it. “Right. Head clearing. I’m frazzled and haven’t got a clue how to deal with this. Both of Cait’s parents are on my hit list. The probability of that happening is infinitesimal, and it’s screwed my plans to hell and back.”

  Pierce touched my cheek, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Take your shower, Everly. We’ll work it out.”

  He continued down the path, and I stood there watching him for a minute, shivering in the evening air. Whatever he was doing didn’t have a damn thing to do with clearing his mind, but following him was out of the question. The cold had seeped into my bones, I desperately needed to bathe, and my surveillance technique wasn’t skilled enough to escape Pierce-detection. If he spotted me, he’d just change his plans, making it a waste of my time.

  Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I made my way inside and shut the door behind me.

  “Hello, El.”

  Adrenaline slammed into my system, stealing my breath. And then I screamed.

  Cait stepped out of the shadows.

  Heart pumping, I sucked in air like I’d run a marathon. “Shit! You scared me.”

  “Didn’t you see me?” She sounded surprised, and slightly apologetic.

  “No, my mind was somewhere else. You’re here.” Brilliant, Everly.

  Cait stood in the archway between the kitchen and living room, fidgeting from foot-to-foot. “Did you follow me?”

  “Follow you? You mean from Torquay?”

  She nodded.

  “No. We…” I had no idea what to say. “Pierce’s parents live here.” It was the truth, even though it had nothing to do with why we were here.

  “Oh. I didn’t know that. My father doesn’t socialize much when I’m visiting, and he never talks about the other residents. Wait a sec. Are Siofra and Lorcán Pierce’s parents? Your Pierce?”

  A fresh shock wave bounced through me. It was way too much coincidence, and my nerves revved up a notch. “Uh-huh.”

  “Wow. Small world. I, um.” She gestured behind her. “The door was unlocked, and no one answered my knock.”

  “It’s okay. I doubt anyone locks their doors here. It seems to be an open sort of community.” I was babbling to fill space, and hadn’t a single coherent thought about how to approach the issue of Eamon Grady.

  “You didn’t say anything, El, when you saw me earlier. I thought you might be mad at me or something.” She’d started fiddling with her fingers, obviously uncomfortable.

  We weren’t going to have a productive conversation until both of us calmed down, so I shoved my craving for a shower aside, and busied myself with hostess responsibilities. “How about a hot cup of tea?”

  Cait shook her head, vehement. “No, thanks. I’m not a tea person. I know it’s practically blasphemous around here and at home, but I just can’t stand the stuff.”

  I scanned the kitchen for some kind of coffee maker. Zip. “We just got here, so I don’t have a clue where anything is, or if there’s a coffee maker.”

  Cait huffed out a breath, finally relaxing enough to stop picking at her cuticles. “Let’s check the cupboards. Maybe there’s some of the hot chocolate mix Siofra makes. She sells it at the store, and it’s absolutely the best thing ev-ver. And even better, it’s instant so you can microwave it.”

  In my current state of mind, I needed wine a hell of a lot more than hot chocolate, but it was one of those times when going with the flow seemed the best option. “Sounds good.” I started opening cabinet doors.

  “There it is.” Cait reached over my shoulder and pulled out a glass container. “Siofra packages it in these cool containers, and I think she paints each one individually.”

  I forced a smile. “If she made the chocolate, it has to be yummy.”

  Cait opened the container, and inhaled the rich cocoa fragrance. “It is sooooo good. Where’s the microwave?”

  At a loss, I looked around the kitchen, didn’t spot anything resembling a microwave, but I did find a small pot that would work perfectly. I held it up. “How about we heat some milk on the stove?”

  Cait, completely at home, opened the refrigerator, located a bottle of milk, and held it up. “Everything is self-contained here at the commune, you know. They have a dairy, so the milk is raw, doesn’t have any fake stuff in it. All the food tastes so good, and it’s healthy. When I inherit the Connor estate, it’s one of the first changes I’m going to make. I’ve talked to some of the sharecroppers, and most are willing to change, some are even excited about switching to healthier growing options. ’Course if my mother found out I’d been sneaking visits with our tenants she’d lock me in my room and flush the key. Learning about this stuff is one of the reasons I tolerate visiting my father.”

  No way was I going to let that opening pass. “You just tolerate him?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “He’s as crazy as my mother. In a different way, but I’m positive there was something weird in the Amazon jungle that ate most of their brain cells.”

  A ripple of excitement spread through me. Maybe I could get all the information I needed just by letting Cait talk. “Amazon? They lived in South America?”

  “Yup. They met when they were working on some kind of secret project down there. Neither of them will say much about it, and they never got married.” She shrugged. “I’m illegitimate, but since the estate passes down through my m
other, it’s not a big deal.”

  While Cait heated the milk, I scouted for some mugs, found some that matched the dishes Siofra had used for our early supper, and set them on the table. “Did your parents live together when you were growing up?”

  “Nope. Not ever. Mother never even mentioned my father until I was in my teens. I’m not sure what changed, but one day she told me he was coming to visit and sent me to my room. There was a lot of yelling that went on forev-ver. It was boring. Eventually, she called me downstairs to meet him.” Cait turned off the stove and poured the milk.

  I took a couple spoons from a caddy on the kitchen table, then passed one to her along with the container of chocolate. “What’d they fight about?” I asked, holding my breath, hoping Cait wouldn’t be offended by my nosy questions.

  “I don’t know. That’s why it was so boring.”

  Damn. I wanted an instant replay of that fight. “It’s not like you to stay in your room just because someone told you to.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I’d missed something. Maybe something critical. “Hey, how did you know where to find me?”

  A red hue flamed on Cait’s cheeks. “I followed you.”

  She was lying. Maybe I would have missed a tail, but Pierce definitely wouldn’t have. “No, you didn’t.”

  She sipped some hot chocolate, and avoided looking at me. “I knew Siofra and Lorcán owned this guest house, so I, um, peeked in the window, saw Pierce slip out the back door, and you were alone, so…”

  I waited.

  She stared at me, a thread of steel in her gaze. “You’ve been hiding something from me. I want to know what it is.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  PIERCE, BLESS HIM, CHOSE THAT moment to muscle through the back door, arms full of firewood. He caught sight of Cait, and came to an abrupt stop. Nodded to her. “Smells like Máthair’s chocolate.”