OUT OF THE BLUE

by Caroline Clemmons

  He felt the hard pounding of her racing heart through her thin nightshirt. “The two men?” he asked.

  Keeping her death grip on his hand, she shook her head. “No, Eogan from Ballymish and the mob. It wasn’t a vision, but it scared me so much.”

  He scooted around so he leaned against the headboard and stretched his legs beside her. “Want to talk about it?”

  “We were running, like I did before I jumped off the cliff. Eogan and the others were chasing us.” She looked up at him then scooted up to sit beside him. “You too. He was going to kill you, even though he died long before you were born. They caught us before we got to the cliff and they put us in a big building. Instead of burning me, they wanted to shoot us.” She shuddered. “Why would I have such a horrible dream?”

  “Because of the two men we saw at the bar. They were probably the two who caused my wreck. Knowing that and that they killed Porter, and then tried to get Michelle, and then trashed her apartment was enough to cause nightmares.”

  “The worst I’ve ever had. I was so frightened he’d kill you. I know you think I’m crazy or weak. Mayhap both.”

  He slid his arm around her. “Not me. I had trouble falling asleep myself. That’s why I heard you. Figured I’d walk around a little, maybe dull the bad thoughts.”

  “You had trouble? But you’re a policeman. Surely you experience things like this all the time?”

  “Yeah, but you never forget some things. Like when a child is injured or killed. A particularly vicious or gory crime gets to me. That’s why a lot of cops drink too much off duty. Others make bad jokes about crimes, not because they’re unfeeling. A joke helps take the sting out of the bad stuff.”

  “I didn’t know it affected you too.” She shuddered a huge sigh. “That makes me feel better if today left you unable to sleep.”

  With his arm still around her, he patted her shoulder. “This has turned personal, and there’s no way I can separate myself from it.”

  She looked at him. “Thank you for checking on me.”

  “Slide back down and get comfy. I’ll stay here until you’re asleep.”

  She scooted down and rested her head on her pillow.

  He stood and straightened the covers she’d twisted while fighting in her dreams. Then, lying on top of the cover, he spooned himself to her with his arm across her waist. He wondered if she’d resist, but he heard her sigh as if his action relieved her.

  His head next to hers, he inhaled her rose and lemon scent and nestled his face on her glorious hair. His hand rested on her ribs, just beneath her soft breasts. This felt good. Way too good. He should leave at once.

  But then she snuggled against him, her hand over his, and fell asleep. BadCat leaped onto the corner of the bed on the other side of Deirdre and made himself comfortable. Brendan lay awake.

  Moonlight through the window waxed and waned. He figured there must be clouds floating across the moon. No storm, though, because he heard crickets and cicadas. Beside him, Deirdre slept peacefully. Finally, Brendan slipped away and returned to his own bed.

  This room was now his only living space. Fortunately, he loved the spacious room set aside for his use. He had carefully chosen everything in it. So why did it suddenly seem lonely? He missed Deirdre’s softness and the smell of roses and lemons. Missed her nestled next to him. Missed her way too much.

  Deirdre awoke with a smile, disappointed she was alone, but happy Brendan had shared her bed for a time. Never had she known the security she’d experienced with him next to her. He’d slid himself near and held her, comforted her so she could sleep without nightmares. How could she not love so kind a man?

  She looked at the clock and leaped from bed. Nine o’clock? How could she have slept so late?

  After hurrying to shower and dress, she rushed into the kitchen. “It’s embarrassed I am to be such a layabed.”

  Blossom laughed. “I’ve only been up ten minutes. Brendan overslept too and just now took Prince for a walk. The poor dog practically had his legs crossed waiting for us to wake up. I’m surprised he didn’t bark.”

  Deirdre rubbed her palms nervously down her jeans. “I’ll try my hand at breakfast if you like.”

  “That would be nice if you’re sure. You may as well learn now as later.” Blossom sat at the table and picked up a section of the newspaper. “I’ll be here if you need to ask a question.” She started reading.

  Nervous, but excited, Deirdre set the table. She dug out bacon, sausage, eggs, and butter—all things she’d seen Blossom use for breakfast. There was none of the melon she loved, but she found fresh strawberries. “I suppose it will take me longer than you to prepare everything.”

  Blossom waved a hand. “Take your time, dear. It’s our day off, remember? Mmm, there’s a nice sale at the mall.”

  “Sure and I’ll never need another thing.” Deirdre couldn’t believe she’d ever wear all Blossom had bought her. No, Blossom selected it, but Brendan paid the bill.

  “It couldn’t hurt to look, dear, but maybe another time. I’m feeling lazy today.”

  By the time Brendan and Prince returned Deirdre had a meal ready. Sort of.

  She set the platter on the table and dropped into her chair. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. “The eggs are too hard, not fluffy like Blossom’s. And the bacon’s chewy, not crisp the way we eat it.”

  “It’s very good for your first effort, dear.” Blossom helped herself to eggs. “You can’t expect to learn to cook on this range without practice. This must be a big change from an open fireplace.”

  Brendan took portions of all she’d cooked. She watched his face as he ate.

  He chewed carefully and swallowed. “Not bad.”

  Deirdre knew differently, but she appreciated Brendan and Blossom being kind.

  Then she had another vision. The clear picture and name of the man who wanted Brendan dead came to her in a rush. At the same time she knew who he was, she sensed his evil was stronger than when she’d seen only his wrist with the spider. Brendan’s danger grew. The evil man wouldn’t stop until Brendan died.

  No, she prayed this was wrong, asked it to be changed. Taken away. Prayed Brendan’s life would be spared.

  She gripped the edge of the table until her palm hurt and she hid her fear. She didn’t want to ruin their lovely day off. Keeping her head down, she pushed at her food. When the others had finished, she jumped up to clear the table.

  Blossom touched her arm. “Is something wrong, dear? Really, brunch was lovely.”

  She shook her head, vowing not to tell Brendan unless he decided to go somewhere. She couldn’t let him leave without warning him.

  Blossom took the plates from her. “You cooked, so I’ll do the clean up. Go on and enjoy yourself.”

  How could she relax with Brendan in such danger? But she thanked Blossom and walked to the window overlooking the lake. Could she tell him?

  He came up beside her. “Okay, what is it this time? Another of your visions?”

  She nodded but focused on the water’s calming ripples. “How did you guess?”

  “You go pale as death and you look...I don’t know, as if you’re looking at things others can’t see.”

  “I guess I am. This time it’s something others will see, but not for a while.” She glanced at him then back out the window.

  “And I’ve noticed the visions make you tired and more thoughtful.” He slid his arm around her shoulders. “And frightened. This time I’d say terrified.”

  “You’re very observant.”

  She stared out the window, wondering what to say? Terrified wasn’t strong enough. And Brendan would be so angry with her if she confessed this vision. What should she do?

  He turned her toward him. “You may as well tell me and get it over with.”

  She took a deep breath. Mayhap he was right. “I know the name of the man who wants you dead.”

  He laughed and kept his hands on her arms. “Now that’s a vision I’ll be g
lad to hear. Who is it?”

  From the kitchen, Blossom hurried in. “Tell us, dear.”

  Deirdre looked from Blossom up to Brendan. “Your boss, Owen Baylor.”

  His laugh turned to astonishment and he released her. “You’re crazy! Owen has been my mentor. He’s one of my staunchest supporters. The man has a ton of medals and commendations and everyone knows he’s a by-the-book cop.”

  Deirdre looked into his eyes. The gray had darkened with anger, cold as the ocean in winter. She said, “Not any more. He’s grown evil.”

  “Look, you’ve confused him with the guy in Ireland. Hell, even if they’re related—which I doubt—they’re not the same person!” He gestured, throwing his arms wide. “Get over this fixation you have for the guy who burned your house and chased you. He’s gone forever. Dead and buried. I tell you, Owen is a different man.”

  She stood her ground, facing him with her own anger at his stubborn refusal to believe her. “I know your Owen is not the one who harmed me. But he means to do more than hurt you, Brendan Hunter. He’ll not rest until you’re been discredited and then dead.”

  Blossom laid her hand on her son’s arm. “Son, you know her other predictions came true. Please listen.”

  “Mom? You’ve known Owen almost as long as I have. Hell, you even dated him. Surely you don’t believe her.”

  Blossom looked confused. “I don’t know what to think.”

  Brendan loomed over Deirdre and raised his voice. “Owen is the one who hired me, promoted me, partnered me with Larry. He’s grooming me to take over as captain when he retires. Does that sound like a man trying to kill me?”

  Deirdre refused to cower. “He’s changed, Brendan. He’s evil now. You have to believe me—he is the one behind this.”

  Blossom nodded. “There was something about him, son. That’s why I told him I wouldn’t see him again.”

  Looking surprised, Brendan turned to his mother and asked, “You broke it off with him?”

  “Yes, he made me uncomfortable.” When Brendan stepped toward his mother, she held up her hand. “Oh, he was polite enough, but there was a hard edge to him. And he appeared obsessed about money. At first I thought he was upset over the divorce settlement, but I changed my mind.” She shuddered. “I can’t explain it, but being near him made me uncomfortable. That’s why I stopped seeing him.”

  “Oh, hell. You’re both crazy.” He turned. “I’ll be in my room reading.”

  Deirdre dropped onto the sofa, exhausted by the exchange. Cathbad hopped beside her.

  “Brendan is so fond of Owen that he doesn’t see any of the man’s faults.” Blossom sat in an armchair. “I’m sorry, dear. You look tired and upset.”

  “Visions take away my energy. Defending myself to Brendan drained what little vigor I had left.” She stood. “I’ll take Prince to sit on the dock. He likes that and the sun may cheer me.”

  “Don’t get burned. Better take the sunscreen.”

  Deirdre walked to her room to get the cream Blossom said would protect her skin from the sun. She paused and listened for sound from Brendan’s room, but heard none.

  When she reached the dock, she removed her shoes and stuck her feet in the water. Prince flopped beside her and promptly dozed off. Watching the gentle waves sent rippling by the breeze usually calmed her. Not today. How could she relax when Owen Baylor intended to kill the man she loved?

  Yes, she loved him. The admission of her attraction to Brendan only intensified her worry. How could she convince him of the danger? If he trusted the man who wanted him dead, Owen might succeed. She willed another vision to tell her the outcome for Brendan, but none appeared.

  She went back to the house, hoping Brendan’s solitude led him to believe her. When she came in, he glared at her then turned back to the noon news on the television.

  The newscaster said, “Breaking news just in. Drugs seized in that large drug bust three months ago are missing from the police station evidence room. Police chief Bryan Gordon has launched an intense investigation. More at six.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” Brendan switched channels. “The others are Dallas or Abilene stations. Nothing there.”

  Blossom looked at him. “Could it have been Owen, son?”

  He sent Deirdre another glare. “Not a chance. Conor Wilson is the man who’s in charge of evidence. My money’s on him. Never liked him. Suspect that at least once he’s intentionally lost evidence for those rich enough to pay.”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Things were tense, but damned if he’d apologize this time. Brendan bit into his sandwich and sent another glare Deirdre’s way. Let her look injured. Where did she get off insulting a good cop like Owen?

  He took a sip of his soft drink and admitted his surprise at his mother dropping Owen. He’d definitely figured that one wrong. But he wasn’t wrong about Owen!

  Conor was the murdering bastard responsible for Larry’s death. Now the son of a bitch would get what was coming to him and Brendan would enjoy watching him go down.

  The doorbell rang.

  Brendan stood. “I’ve finished eating. I’ll see who’s at the door.”

  Jim Graham stood there with another deputy. Why did Jim look so embarrassed? Surely not more about that rock? Damn, he hoped they weren’t here to talk to Deirdre. He was definitely not in the mood today.

  “Hey, come in.” He stuck out his hand to the other deputy. “Brendan Hunter, don’t believe I’ve met you.”

  Jim looked at the other deputy then back at Brendan. He licked his lips. “I asked to come along, since we’re friends and all.” He nodded toward the other deputy. “He has a warrant for your arrest. Sorry, but I-I have to read you your rights and take you in. W-Will you hold out your wrists?”

  Brendan figured his mouth dropped open. “Jim? You’re not serious?”

  “We’re supposed to take you to Radford Crossing and turn you over to the police for stealing evidence. Those drugs you seized. I know you’re innocent, but we have to take you in.”

  Damn, he hadn’t seen that one coming.

  How had Conor shifted the blame to him? The man must have noticed that George tampered with one of the replacement bundles. Probably Conor tapped George’s phone.

  Brendan held out his hands and Jim slapped on the restraints as his mother and Deirdre came to see who’d rung the bell.

  Both women cried out and rushed to him.

  “Son, this is terrible.” She tut-tutted. “I’m surprised at you, Jim Graham. You’re Brendan’s friend. You know this makes no sense.”

  Brendan met Jim’s worried gaze, then turned toward his mother. “It’s his job, Mom. He came in person so I wouldn’t hear the charge from a stranger.”

  Blossom blushed and patted Jim’s arm. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jim. That was kind of you.” She turned to Brendan. “What should I do, son?”

  Deirdre said nothing, only looked incredibly sad.

  “Call Kevin Latham, tell him to meet me at the station.” As he was being hustled down the walk to the patrol car, he called over his shoulder, “Don’t worry. You know I’m innocent. It’ll all be straightened out.”

  But would it?

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Deirdre paced the room. Blossom called the lawyer and had Dave paged. Then, both women stayed within listening distance of the television set tuned to the local station.

  Deirdre paced. Blossom sat wringing her hands and staring at the TV screen, but Deirdre doubted if her friend knew what she’d watched. Deirdre sat beside Blossom.

  Deirdre squeezed her friend’s hand. “Sure and Brendan’s a good man. He’s certain to be set free.” She hoped she spoke the truth. But good men didn’t always go free in Ireland, and she suspected that was true here.

  Blossom nodded and they waited with one another in silence. Cathbad crawled up beside Deirdre and Prince lay quietly at her feet, as if the pets sensed her pain and offered their comfort.

  The doorbell rang again and Deirdre jumpe
d.

  Blossom looked at her watch and leaped up. “That’ll be Dave. I’ll let him in.”

  While Blossom and Dave walked into the room, a local news program began. The anchorman launched into his version of Brendan’s arrest as the lead story. The report was both heartbreaking and maddening.

  “Local hero goes bad.” Blossom snapped off the television when the report was over. “The nerve. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

  Dave hugged her. “Even dragging his dead friend into this mess. I never would have thought Chief Gordon could be so dense.”

  Deirdre shook her head. “Don’t blame him. It’s Owen Baylor who’s responsible. He won’t rest until Brendan is disgraced and dead.”

  Blossom stopped leaning on Dave’s shoulder and sniffed. “You were so right to warn him, dear. Surely now he’ll see you were right.”

  Deirdre wondered. “His eyes are blinded by his loyalty and admiration for Owen. He can’t see the man his friend has become. Now it may be too late.”

  Dave said, “Don’t worry, either of you. Kevin Latham is the best and he’ll see Brendan’s back home soon. Remember he got that woman who killed her husband off with only a few years of probation. Think how good he’ll be for someone who’s innocent.”

  “I hope so.” Blossom laid her head back on Dave’s shoulder and wept.

  “Now, now, Blossom, my love. Have faith in your son and in the legal system.”

  Deirdre crossed her arms. “It’s hard to have faith in a system that allows Owen Baylor power.”

  Dave held Blossom and looked at Deirdre. “It’ll all be unraveled and Brendan exonerated.” In spite of his reassurance, he looked worried.

  Her anger turned to dread and she sagged in defeat, folding her hands in her lap. In Ballymish she’d been fearful, knowing what it meant to live with constant threat and never relax her guard. Nothing in her experiences compared to this. At least in Ballymish, she knew the way of the enemy and all the rules.