by Calinda B
Cillian tasted like sea and shore, wind and savage weather—If such a thing had a taste. She pictured the relentless wind whipping her hair about her face, like she sucked him off on top of tempestuous waves, battered about by the sea. As her mouth worked up, down, and around, she kept uttering strange melodic mewling noises. She seemed to be making some odd new song in her throat. It came unbidden, like it was timeless and she’d sung it before.
Cillian’s hands gripped her head. He uttered short bursts of Gaelic which made her crazy with desire, especially when he groaned a “Lassi” here and there.
Her whimpers grew more frantic as his cock pulsed inside her mouth. Her fear of being caught added to her arousal, making her movements frenetic. I could come by sucking him.
With a roar, he climaxed in hot bursts.
She took him, all of him, swallowing his release like it was the most nourishing food on the planet.
His cock pulsed in her mouth, letting go a lifetime of desire. At least I hope it’s a lifetime and he doesn’t defile the Lord on a regular basis. I hope this is merely a one-off. She gave one last tug with her mouth and let him pop free. She started to wipe her face off on his black pants and caught herself, using her sleeve instead.
“Oh, Lassi,” Cillian uttered, in a deeply satisfied growl.
She refused to meet his gaze. Instead, she busied herself with tucking his waning cock in his pants, and zipping and buttoning his trousers. When she was done, she patted the placket of his pants, like a good nurse, and pushed herself to standing. “Well....”
“Well?”
She finally met his gaze, chewing her lip. “I don’t suppose the confessional is open.”
He smiled, licked his lips, and shook his head.
His expression brought joy to her heart, even though she’d sinned in a place of worship. “You look happy.”
His smile transformed into a grin. “You’re the one who brought the cheer to my soul. It’s been a long, long, long time since I ever felt this good.”
A flood of relief rolled through her at his words. At least it’s not a weekly thing...or even bi-annual.
“I can’t say I’ve ever felt this good,” she said. Or, this guilty. “What do we do next?”
She scanned the nave. Still quiet as stone, it was as if the church simply held witness to their actions, without reproach or judgment. She pivoted to eye Jesus. He still looked sad with his head hanging along his chest. Well, who wouldn’t be sad if he was nailed to a cross, betrayed by his people?
Cillian got to his feet and stepped next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, sighing. “We need to get back to the rectory and see how the investigation is going.”
His words shot an arrow through her buzzing pleasure, flattening it like a balloon.
“Do we?” She looked up at him.
“We do. But first...” He inclined his head and gave her a gentle kiss. He released her. “Thank you,” he uttered. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Okay,” she said, tongue-tied.
He turned and began to stride down the aisle.
Wordlessly, she followed him, keeping a fair distance behind.
He waited at the entrance, holding the massive door open for her.
She slipped out and strode ahead of him, following the path to the rectory.
As they approached the rectory yard, a forensics team could be seen working in Ailis’s yard near the stone wall.
A body hung over the wall.
Without waiting to see which direction Cillian would go, she beelined it toward the new crime scene.
Ailis hung halfway over the stone wall which separated her house from the rectory. Blood splattered the granite-paved path beneath her. A bloody handprint was clearly visible on the stones, as if Ailis had tried to scramble across the wall to get away from her killer.
Lassi skittered around the stone barrier.
“Hey! This is a crime scene,” a portly, older man yelled.
Ignoring him, she pushed past the men and women, cloaked from head to toe in blue forensics attire. Two of them leaned a ladder against the wall. Others placed little yellow flags in places throughout the yard.
“How do you suggest we lower the body? We’ll need to perform an autopsy and we don’t want to do further damage,” a portly man said.
“As gently as we can,” a stern looking woman said. She looked up as Lassi pushed through them.
“Miss!” the portly man called. “Miss! You can’t be here. This is a crime scene.”
She ignored him and kept on with her trajectory.
Ailis’s once pretty face was now grotesque. Her entire mouth had been ripped off.
Lassi’s hand flew to her own lips. “Oh, dear God.” She pulled up short, nearly falling to her knees to retch.
She began patting her face, over and over. A strange, keening voice slithered from her throat.
Ailis might have been bitchy, but she wasn’t evil. She might have just been sad, desperate, and bored out of her mind in this backward village life.
Lassi had seen awful, horrible scenes in the emergency room. Nothing was more heartbreaking than when a baby died before it had a chance to live. But, nobody deserved to die like this, terrified and mutilated.
“Miss!” the same man called. “You can’t be here.”
She lifted her hand. “I’m going, I’m going.”
Her feet wouldn’t budge.
“Lassi, come here,” Cillian said, stepping around the wall. “You shouldn’t be looking at this horrible sight.” He strode toward her and put his arm around her.
Inspector Brown stalked from Ailis’s house, followed by Conway. Her beady-eyed gaze skewered Lassi. Then she turned to Conway, and they began to whisper.
Lassi tried to pull away from Cillian but he tightened his grip—hard. She tried again to tug free, but his fingers dug deeper into her shoulders, until it hurt.
Her heart lurched in fear. She side-eyed him. Is he the killer? Is that part of his mysteries?
Held tight against him, her body pounded with arousal. She closed her eyes for a second. What’s wrong with me? What’s happening to me? I’ve never liked to be bossed around and manhandled before.
Perhaps sensing her doubt of him, he released her.
She stepped away, brushing herself off, while keeping her gaze on Conway and Brown.
They kept their attention on her while their whispers continued.
Panic drove her heartbeat into a mad flutter. She stepped further away from Cillian.
“Father Ward. A word please,” Brown called.
“Of course,” he said, smoothly. “I’m at your service.”
He strode past her.
To her right, the forensics team worked to lower Ailis from the wall.
Lassi scurried toward the rectory, away from the madness. Her insides were knotted with anxiety and confusion. She glanced around wildly, unsure what to do next.
Her attention landed on imprints of footsteps embedded in the ground. They didn’t yet have the little yellow crime tags the forensic team had placed around the yard. Her heart skittered to a complete stop as she stared at them. She tried to look all casual-like as she followed their path. They were man-sized. They came from a door leading from the rectory, hidden from plain view by vines and foliage. And, they led straight for where Ailis hung.
Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.
Brown and Conway were grilling Cillian on the other side of the stone barrier.
She took the opportunity to appear easy-going and unconcerned as she trampled the footsteps, grinding them into indiscernible shapes in the mud.
Nothing about this situation was good. Not the murder or the mutilation. Absolutely not the fact she was under suspicion for crimes she had nothing remotely to do with. But certainly not the fact she was falling hot, hard and heavy for a possible murderer.
Chapter 15
Taking her leave from the gruesome crime scene, Lassi hurried up
the path toward town. She sorely needed three things. One, to get some space from the man who kept drawing her into moral conflict, no matter how pleasurable. Two, to get some fecking food to feed her growling stomach. And, three, to seek out Liam and get a sense of what kind of head space he occupied. He and Ailis had flirted at the wake, although it had come across as snippy repartee. Maybe there was a connection to the murders to be unearthed.
To the Laughing Rat I go.
As usual, the clouds afforded no mercy from their heavy, gloomy presence. They seemed to press on her head, her body, her soul, grinding her into the earth. She tugged her coat around her, but a chill went through her bones. Will I even recognize sunshine if I see it again?
Hustling along the sidewalk, she passed the tidy homes, held captive by the dark clouds. She pictured their painted doors being ten times more vivid if only sunlight shone on them.
She kept her head down as she passed the Riordan’s, hoping Siobhan was doing all right but not wanting to see for herself. When she arrived at the pub, she tugged open the blue doors, wiped her feet, and entered the dim, depressing environment. Pubs are supposed to be lively places of sociability, not misery clubs.
The same unhappy denizens sat at their usual tables, hanging over their Guinness like vultures.
She strode toward the bar, noting no signs of Aengus.
Liam dragged his feet as he made his way from the kitchen. His face had a frown threatening to drip on the floor. He brightened ever so slightly at seeing her.
“Lassi,” he said. The brightness faded from his face as quickly as it had appeared.
“Liam,” Lassi said. She settled on a bar stool. “I’d like some fish and chips, please.”
He placed his hands on the bar top like his body weighed ten tons and it was all he could do to stay upright. “Okay. Penny’s out and about. I’ll have to do it.”
He started to turn away when Lassi quickly interjected, “No big rush. Talk to me for a moment.”
“What do you want to talk about?” His voice sounded tired, like he’d never slept in his life.
“Oh, gosh,” she said, feigning innocence. “Everything.” She swished her hand in the air. “I was wondering how you’re doing, what with the latest investigation and all. You and Ailis—weren’t you close?” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
His gaze darted about like dancing fireflies. “She lived in town. I live in town. It’s hard not to know people who live in the same town.”
“Uh huh,” she said. “True.” Now that’s a hedging answer. “Isn’t it weird to think that, while we were in our homes, Ailis was being murdered?”
“Yeah.” Liam picked up a white cloth and scrubbed—didn’t merely wipe—the bar top.
Lassi’s eyes narrowed. Signs of guilt? “Is there a stain?”
“What?” Liam looked at her. Looked at the cleaning cloth in his hands. “No.” He tossed the cloth behind the bar. “This whole thing has me all narky to be sure.”
“You seem more depressed than cranky.” Lassi twirled her butt back and forth on the swiveling stool.
He blew out a breath and pushed back the few hairs on his head. “This thing’s a misery. Ailis texted me last night. She asked if it was me at the door because she kept hearing someone banging and banging and banging the front door like there was a fire or something.”
His gaze grew unfocused.
“The way you did this morning.”
“What?” He reined in his attention and focused it on her.
“You whacked my door like the dead had risen.” She tried to soften her annoyed tone. “I mean, who wouldn’t be knocking down the door of someone they barely knew to tell them about a murder?”
He flinched.
Try again, girl. She plastered on a sweet smile. “It’s, uh...it’s understandable.”
She bit her tongue before any more snark sneaked out.
Liam’s eyebrows stitched together. “She said she kept going to the door but no one was there. I asked her if the wind made a noise such as that. She said, no.” He hung his head. “I could have prevented it from happening. The murder, I mean. If only I’d have given a crap about what she told me. Instead, I asked her why she thought I’d be pulling a prank such as that on her.”
“And what did she say to that? Did she have a reason to think you, a mere friend, was pissed at her?” She aimed for a more detective sounding voice.
He made that same flickering firefly movement with his eyes. “I don’t think so,” he said, his gaze trained behind the bar. “I don’t know what she meant by it.”
Lassi drummed the counter with her fingers. He sure seems to have fishy answers. Maybe he did it. Maybe he was at the rectory talking to Cillian and... Her train of thought turned a sharp right, heading toward images of sucking Cillian, and kissing him, and... Get back to the present. “I think you do know what she meant by it.”
Anger flashed across his face in sharp-edged lines. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not from these parts.” He shook his head. “I’d best be fixing your food.”
“All I’m saying is, I could come up with a better alibi than that. I think you’re hiding something.” Well, no. I didn’t come up with a good alibi. Cillian and I undoubtedly made ourselves look shady over the past two days, but whatever.
Liam picked up a gleaming knife from behind the bar.
Lassi shrank back.
Then, he fished for something Lassi couldn’t see behind the counter.
She glanced behind her, at the door. Should I make a run for it?
He plunked a lemon on a wooden cutting board and began making clean, deft slices.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice coming out shakier than she wished.
“I’m slicing lemons, what does it look like?”
“Aren’t you going to go make my food?” She gripped the edge of the bar.
“I thought while I was out here, I’d slice lemons for your fish. What with you all chatty-like and all.” He waved the blade between them. “I’m starting to think you like to meddle in the business of others. Like when you showed up all nursey-nursey to care for poor Siobhan’s wee child.” He made circles in the air with the knife.
“It’s what I do. I’m a nurse who cares for the young ones.” She eyed his arm. Can I grasp it and stop the circles without getting stabbed? “And poor Siobhan was in no shape to care for little Paulie.”
Liam stabbed the cutting board with the tip of the blade, leaving it to wobble and shake in the wood, like a trembling tree. “What do you know about Siobhan? Nothing.”
His eyes filled with tears. He swept the lemons into a small, plastic container.
He’s sure acting all twitchy and weird. It looks like guilt to me. Maybe he wants Siobhan, now, too. Or, it could be some underlying, undiagnosed mental illness shite. Villages are rife with this stuff because no one wants to be known as the crazy person in a place where your business concerns every-fecking-body. Gears began clicking and whirling in Lassi’s mind. A thought struck her right between the eyes. He killed Dylan and Ailis because they were in the way of him getting busy with Siobhan. Her revelation shook her through and through. She put her leg out to keep from falling off the bar stool.
“What’s the matter with you?” He pointed to her leg.
“Leg cramp. They happen from time to time.” Sweat dripped along her temples.
Liam glowered. “Leg cramps in someone such as yourself?”
“What does that mean?”
He seized the knife, tugged it free from the wood, and pointed it at her. “It means you look healthy and fit.”
“Uh, thank you.” Her skin iced with fear. If Ailis and Dylan were in the way, then Penny is certainly in the way. Fecking hell. Someone needs to warn Penny. She bolted to her feet. “I’ll be back later for my food.” She fished in her pocket and threw some bills on the counter. “I remembered something I forgot.” She turned and dashed toward the door.
�
��You’ve got change coming,” he called out to her.
She lifted her hand over her head. “Keep it. It’s a tip.” I’ve got to find Penny. Maybe she’s with Siobhan.
She threw open the door and nearly collided with Penny.
“Good heavens,” Penny said, clutching her bosom.
“Penny! You’re precisely who I was going out to find.” She made a side-eyed glance.
Liam stood at the bar, glaring in her direction.
She ushered Penny out the door, letting it close behind her.
“Can’t it wait to go inside? It’s cold out here.” Penny’s attention drifted overhead, toward the clouds. She wrapped her roomy yellow raincoat around herself.
“That’s just it. I figured you’d be tired and all from caring for little Paul.” Lassi’s words tumbled out like rushing water. “You’ve been doing so much for everyone, I thought you’d want to sit down with a cup of tea. I know I could sure use one.”
“Why, that’s a great idea.” Penny smiled.
Lassi’s mouth, which had been set to overdrive, slammed shut. Her lips stayed glued for a few seconds, before she said, “It is?”
“Why, yes. I accept. Shall we step into the pub?”
“No! Somewhere else. Somewhere private where we can have girl talk.” She’s going to think I’m an idiot. She took Penny’s elbow and began guiding her away from the pub.
“I’m sure we can find just the place,” Penny said. “There’s a nice tea shop around the corner.”
“Is there?”
“Yes. It’s got nice ambiance. Then again, I always enjoyed tea at Roberta’s.”
“You did? I thought no one liked her.”
“Oh, she had her prickles,” Penny said. “But who doesn’t? Let’s head to the cottage.”
“All right, then.” Lassi relaxed and turned the corner, still guiding Penny. She nearly bumped into Inspector Conway. “Oh!” Her hands flew in front of her to stop the collision.
“In a hurry?” he asked. Brown stood at his side.
“No, I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I see.” His ferret-like eyes glared at her.
Lassi’s stomach did a few twists.
