Driftwood Cove--Two stories for the price of one

by Debbie Mason

  “I have the key, Master Logan,” Jasper said, striding down the hall toward them. As they gave the older man room, Simon, the black cat, sat down at Jasper’s feet and meowed loudly.

  Connor rubbed his arms. “Anyone else feel a draft?”

  Logan nodded. “I do. Someone must’ve left the window in the library open. It’s probably why the books fell.”

  They found out moments later that wasn’t the case at all. “It’s not what it looks like,” Shay said from where she helped Cherry out the window.

  If his mother hadn’t chosen to step into the library at that exact second, things might have gone differently. He knew for a fact they would’ve gone much better if Shay had let Cherry fall out the window instead of helping her.

  “Those are first editions! Stop her, she’s trying to steal them! Jasper, don’t just stand there! Call the police.”

  “I wasn’t stealing anything. Cherry, not a word. Just go. I’ll handle this,” Shay said, trying to pry her friend’s fingers from the ledge. But Cherry wasn’t having it. She hauled herself back through the window, her butt in the air.

  “Mom, just calm down. Shay wasn’t stealing anything. I invited her here,” Michael said, casting Shay an apologetic glance. She wouldn’t look at him. Though it was possible she didn’t hear him over Cherry creatively cursing out his mother.

  “Really? And this is how she dresses to come to dinner at the manor? Like a thief? Do not try to protect her, Michael. She’ll just make a fool of you like she did all those years before.”

  “That’s enough, Mother. Logan.” Michael nudged his head at his mother in hopes that his big brother would get her out of there.

  “I would suggest you refrain from attacking Ms. Angel, Mother. In my opinion, she could make a very strong case against you and the Gallaghers.”

  “What are you talking about, Connor?” his mother snapped.

  “I guess you weren’t listening when Michael told us that GG was the reason social services removed Ms. Angel and her sisters from her uncle’s care, indirectly depriving her of a relationship with her sisters even to this day. And I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you what you did, Mother.” Connor walked over to Shay and helped Cherry off the floor. “If you’d like to take my family to court, I’d be more than happy to represent you, Ms. Angel. Pro bono.” He held Michael’s gaze as he smiled and offered Shay his arm. “Why don’t we talk about it over drinks?”

  * * *

  Approximately twenty-four hours after she’d turned down Connor’s offer of representation, Shay had a feeling she might be needing his help after all. Standing outside Two-Face Terry’s run-down apartment, she glanced around the dimly lit hall. Terry was the last man on her list who fit Tony’s and Eddie’s profile. The other four hadn’t panned out. She knocked on the door for a second time, silently urging Terry to answer. She didn’t have time to waste. She’d been playing cat and mouse with Michael and his partner for the better part of the day.

  Twenty minutes ago, she’d had a close call. They’d entered the pool hall just as she’d been about to leave. She’d escaped out the back door without them seeing her. She had a feeling they’d hear about her visit, though. The owner hadn’t exactly been happy with her nosing around.

  “Come on, Terry,” she murmured, pressing her ear to the door. She heard what sounded like the TV in the background and nothing more. Taking another look around the hall, she stuck her gloved hand in her pocket and withdrew her lock kit. It took her less than a minute to pick the piece-of-crap lock.

  She brushed a hand over her damp brow. She shouldn’t be sweating. But she was, and she knew why. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. She’d been fighting it from the moment she approached the old building on Boston’s south side.

  As she eased the door open, a familiar smell slapped her in the face. Blood. Death. She was too late. But how late was she really? It hadn’t happened that long ago if the lingering smell of gunpowder was anything to go by. No one had come out of the building when she approached. No one had passed her on the stairs. It stood to reason the killer could still be inside.

  Would he have heard her open the door? The TV was loud enough that it probably muffled the sound. It didn’t matter. Despite the danger, she was tired of the game. She wanted her uncle out of hiding, and she wanted to stop Costello before he implicated Shay or Charlie any deeper in his crimes.

  She withdrew her gun from under her jacket. The worn linoleum floor creaked under her boot as she stepped inside and carefully closed the door. There were splotches of water on the floor. Whoever had killed Terry had kept their boots on. It was snowing…Down the hall a drawer closed, stopping her mid-thought. She wasn’t alone.

  Ducking into the bathroom off the narrow hall, she bent to undo her boots. Another drawer closed, louder this time. He was getting frustrated. She wondered what he was looking for. Sliding off her boots, she used the bathroom mirror to check the hall. It was empty. She tiptoed from the bathroom, listening intently as she did. Her back to the wall, she inched her way slowly and carefully to the living room. The man she knew from his picture to be Terry Boyle lay facedown on the blue carpet.

  There wasn’t much chance he was alive, still, she had to check. At the rattle of hangers from the room to her right, she hurried to his side. Crouching while keeping an eye on the doorway, she lightly pressed two fingers to Terry’s neck. No pulse, but there was a phone clutched in his hand. She freed it from his death grip at the same time a man cursed and what sounded like a fist hit the wall.

  Shay searched the room for the best vantage point for a surprise attack. A phone rang. Her heart bumped against her ribs, and she powered off Terry’s cell.

  “No, the guy offed himself before I could get anything out of him. There’s no sign Angel has been here.” Shay’s head jerked up. She dug her phone from her pocket and pressed Record. “Who knows, maybe your uncle got to him.”

  There was a long pause. She tiptoed across the room. Holding her breath, she peeked through the crack in the door. The man looked out a window, his back to her. Even from behind, there was no mistaking who he was—the man who saved Michael from choking at Pussy Cat East. She darted past the door and pressed her back against the wall.

  “Yeah, I already did that. It’ll look like Angel organized to meet with Two Face a few minutes ago. Timing works. Yeah, yeah, I’ll text a threat from him to Terry’s phone, mention the niece coming after him. The guys are tracking her down. Word is she’s not in Vegas. They’ll check the house and bar again.”

  Shay’s heart dropped to her feet. No matter how much she wanted this guy, she couldn’t waste time. She had to get back to Harmony Harbor to protect Cherry, Libby, and the kids. She didn’t want them anywhere around when Costello’s goon searched Charlie’s house and the Salty Dog. Shay inched toward the edge of the wall. She was positive he still stood at the window with his back to her. She would’ve heard the rustle of clothing, the sound of his boots. Pocketing the phone, she wrapped both hands around her gun and then once again darted past the doorway. Only this time she kept going, tiptoeing backward to the bathroom with her gun aimed at the bedroom.

  He was on the move. She made it to the bathroom doorway at the same time the toe of his black boot crossed the bedroom’s threshold. He was still on the phone.

  Heart pounding in her ears, she scooped up her boots and made a dash for the front door only to freeze when he said, “Say again. Freddie’s sure he’s a fed? Michael Gallagher? You’re positive?” He grunted a couple of times and then said, “I don’t want any part of that, boss. I’m not taking out a couple of feds. Nope, no way.”

  Shay stepped to where he could see her. “Down on your knees, and say goodbye to your boss.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I’ve got a bad feeling about this. You sure the guy told you to meet him here?” Michael asked his partner as he leaned over the steering wheel to clear the fogged windshield. The snow had been falling for t
he past few hours, blanketing the surrounding trees and the nearly empty parking lot. Snowflakes swirled under a pool of golden light from the lone working lamppost.

  “Yeah, I plugged it in the GPS when he was setting up the meet. Relax, he probably just got delayed by the weather. It’s a freakin’ blizzard out there, or haven’t you noticed?”

  Michael dug an antacid from his pocket instead of reminding his partner that they’d made it from Boston in under forty-five minutes. James had gotten the call from a long-time snitch just as they were leaving the pool hall. The guy had information on Danny Costello and Pussy Cat East. They’d been waiting for almost an hour. Admittedly, road conditions had steadily worsened since they’d turned off the highway.

  Still, despite sitting snug and warm inside his Range Rover, Michael couldn’t shake the cold dread lying heavy in his belly. Maybe it had something to do with the location of the meet…and the memories.

  They were waiting outside a combination gas station and corner store in the middle of nowhere. A nowhere Michael was familiar with, as he’d been here before. The gas station was located fifteen minutes off the highway, up the road from Driftwood Cove and the inn where he’d spent the best night of his life and his worst morning.

  He’d been doing his damnedest not to think about Shay. It just made him angry, frustrated too. She was messing with their case. Not to mention making them look like keystone cops. Everywhere they went, the people they questioned had already been interrogated by a hot, dark-haired woman driving an equally hot set of wheels. She’d been one step ahead of them all day. Sticking her nose where it didn’t belong and putting herself squarely on Costello’s radar.

  His brother’s offer of representation last night wouldn’t help her in this case. Michael’s mouth twisted at the memory. He’d tried to talk to her, but his mother wouldn’t back off and neither would Cherry. Connor had just made it worse trying to stick it to Michael for his perceived guilt in the car bombing. Nothing had gone according to plan. Apparently today wasn’t going to be much better.

  In the rearview mirror, Michael watched as a black Lincoln Navigator crawled down the country road with a charcoal Mercedes following close behind. He had a feeling he’d been overly optimistic. Today was about to get much, much worse.

  “We’ve got company, and I’m pretty sure they’re not here for gas,” he said to his partner, who looked over his shoulder and muttered a blistering curse.

  As though to prove Michael right, and he really wished they hadn’t, the Navigator backed into the entrance to the parking lot and the Mercedes idled in the exit, effectively blocking them in. Michael pushed back his coat and pulled out his sidearm.

  “I’ve got no cell reception. Try yours,” James said while looking over his shoulder and withdrawing his gun.

  Michael tried his phone. “Nothing.” His gaze went back to the rearview mirror and then to the gas tanks and the corner store. There were at least three people that he knew of inside.

  “Son of…We’ve got a man from each vehicle coming our way.”

  And they had more firepower than Michael and his partner. Michael leaned across the console to unlock the glove compartment and remove a second piece. “If we’re lucky, someone inside the corner store is calling 911.”

  James bent at the waist and lifted his pant leg to reveal another gun. “Hate to break it to you, but they’re not going to get here fast enough. Please tell me this baby is outfitted in armor.”

  “Wish I could.” He’d been offered the upgrade but turned it down. He’d never been threatened or shot at as an ADA and couldn’t justify the cost. The first thing he planned to do once this was over was have the SUV retrofitted. If they made it out of this alive.

  At the thought, images of Shay and Atticus from the other night were followed by flashes of special moments with his brothers, parents, and extended family. He pushed them back. There was no time for sentimentality and emotion. What he needed to do was evaluate the situation calmly and rationally.

  They were outgunned and outmanned, and he had no doubt Costello’s cars were armored. And the men running in a crouch across the parking lot with AK-47s in their hands wouldn’t care about the people in the gas station. There was only one option available to them. “Hang on, partner. We’re going for a ride.”

  Michael revved the engine and threw the gear into reverse. “Get down,” he yelled when the rat a tat tat of gunfire filled the night air, bullets shattering the back windshield. Michael braked, jerked the wheel hard to the right, and hit the gas. The SUV spun out, sending up an arc of snow before he got the vehicle under control, aiming it directly at the Mercedes. He was counting on them moving, but if they didn’t, he’d ram the back end of the vehicle until he either put them out of commission or made it around them.

  At the rush of cold air and snow whipping around in the SUV, Michael took his eyes off the faint glow of red through the blizzard to glance at his partner, who was half hanging out the window. “Get back in here before I ram the car and you fly out.”

  “He’s gonna try to shoot out the tires,” James yelled over the roar of the engine and the howling wind, gesturing to the gunmen on the right before he took aim and got off a couple shots of his own.

  Michael couldn’t tell if James had hit the gunman or not. He had other things to worry about, like the Navigator’s headlights turning in their direction from the other end of the lot and the rat a tat tat of the second gunman’s bullets hitting uncomfortably close to the gas tank.

  “Hang on, we’re going off—” A round of bullets smashed into the driver’s side window, cutting him off. He ducked just in time, glass shattering all around him. Shards of the window stuck in his hands and head, a trickle of something warm running down his cheek.

  He slammed the SUV into reverse at the same time James fell back against the seat. “There’s a trail leading into the woods at the back of the gas station. I’ll get us in as deep as I can, and then we’ll—” Michael began as he powered up the passenger side window and braked hard. His partner’s gun hit the floor. Michael’s gaze jerked to James. His face was pale and tight with pain. He’d been hit. “How bad?”

  James shifted and winced. “It’s not a flesh wound, I can tell that much.”

  “Don’t move around. Put pressure on it and breathe slow and easy. I’ll have you out of here in…” He trailed off at the sight of a sleek black car flying through a wall of snow to land between Michael’s SUV and the Navigator.

  James gave a strained laugh. “Looks like we’ve been saved by an Angel, partner.”

  Michael stared, stunned as the Hellcat spun in a graceful arc and came to a stop. Both the driver’s side and passenger’s windows went down and automatic gunfire rent the air on all sides. Costello’s men cried out and dropped to the ground at almost the same time. The Navigator and Mercedes peeled away. In the distance came the welcome sound of sirens.

  The doors of the Hellcat opened, and Shay stepped out of the driver’s side, Luigi the passenger side.

  “Okay, now that I wasn’t expecting,” James said.

  Michael didn’t answer, his gaze locked on the woman dressed in black walking through the swirling snow toward him. She was beautiful, capable, strong, a hero, and he didn’t know when he’d ever been more angry or relieved.

  * * *

  Shay couldn’t read Michael’s expression as he walked to where she leaned against the coffee counter. No doubt some of the emotion she saw on his face was concern for his partner, who’d left by ambulance twenty minutes earlier, and probably some for her too. He wouldn’t be happy she’d put herself at risk. He had no idea just how far she would go to protect him or how angry she was at him for almost getting himself killed. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if she’d lost him.

  Even when she wasn’t with him for all those years and never thought in a million more that she would be again, she’d taken comfort in knowing that he was out there living and loving and doing good things.


  “Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to get their statements.” Michael nodded at Jim, the owner of the gas station, and his two customers. “I need yours, too, but it’s going to take some time. I thought we’d just head to the inn.”

  “Inn?” There was only one inn she knew of in the area, and it was one she’d promised herself never to set foot in again. She’d buried the memories of that night and the next morning, and the last thing she wanted to do was dig them up.

  “Everything’s shut down, Shay. Other than emergency vehicles, they’re not letting anyone out on the roads or highway.”

  “I’ll drive. You flash your badge, and we’re good.” She wanted to get back to Harmony Harbor to check on Cherry, Libby, and the kids. She’d called to warn them to stay away from the pub and the house. They promised they would, but still…

  “Look, I don’t know how you even made it here in one piece, but you’re not going out in that again.”

  “So what, you’re planning on walking to the inn?”

  “Jim has a snowmobile he said I can borrow. And I’m not going alone. You’re coming with me. Don’t argue, or I’ll arrest you right here.”

  She struggled to breathe. She couldn’t get air in or push it out. It was like everything inside her had frozen, and the room started to spin.

  Strong, warm fingers linked with hers and gently squeezed as her breath wheezed in and out, in and out. The dizziness passed. “I’m sorry, Shay. I shouldn’t have said that. I was…We need to talk. I need you to listen. If tonight showed me anything, it was that none of us know how long we’ve got.” He glanced around. The men were talking to one of the local cops. Michael ducked his head to whisper in her ear, “Don’t make me tell you here. I want you in my arms when I try to convince you we deserve a second chance. When I tell you I’ve never been more grateful and relieved or angry and terrified to see you.” He gently nipped her earlobe. “Please, come with me to the inn. Stay with me tonight.”

  He had no idea those same emotions were still thrumming through her. She wanted to kiss him and shake him and yell at him all at the same time. “Fine. As long as you let me drive.”