“Millie, don’t rush in there! We have hostage negotiators for this!” Vince yelled.
Millie ignored him and took a turn down Campbell, toward the trash can where this all started last night. She turned again and ran to the entrance of the courthouse.
The feeling of dread started to overtake her yet. She brandished her wand, confident she could stop Frank.
“Millie!”
She ignored Vince’s warnings.
Millie burst into the courthouse and looked for the stairwell that led to the top floor. There was one on the right side and another on the left. Which way should she go?
She chose the right side.
She climbed the first flight.
Then the second.
Vince must have fallen behind, too tired to keep up.
The next flight of stairs: done.
One more till she would have to find the way up to the tower.
The building was old. Wafts of mildew assaulted her sense of smell, and this high up on the fourth floor, it was ridiculously hot. No air conditioning. Nothing but a single hallway with office doors and courtrooms on either side of her.
The fourth floor.
She slowed her rate of speed. The good witch took deep breaths of the hot, dusty air. She almost coughed, but choked it back. She walked to the center of the fourth floor hall. She listened for any movement above. There had to be a way up into the tower, probably somewhere close.
“Hang in there, Dad. I’m coming.” She whispered. There was a door with a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign in the middle. This was it—it had to be it.
She grabbed the doorknob and slowly started to open the door. A barely audible creak squealed from the old hinges.
Millie winced. She took a deep breath and gingerly pushed the door further open. She entered a dusty open closet. Directly above was the center tower and unfinished atrium, beams of sunlight shot around the room from several small, rectangular windows. A singular ladder stood about ten feet in front of her.
“Millie! Is that you? He’s gone! He forced Jeff to say the spell for instant travel magic!” Hank yelled from rickety scaffolding above her head.
Mac attempted a run for about a half a block before calling it quits. He headed back to his car to follow Millie and Vince the easy way, when Edith called him over from the loading dock. He walked over to her.
“It’s here and safe. Still, if you could hang here for a while until GPD comes back, I’d appreciate it. Vince said he would have someone one here, but they all seem to have left,” Edith held a box with both hands.
In all the excitement, Mac didn’t even realize the courier must have delivered the jade emperor. Mac needed to get his bearings.
“I really should go, Edi—” Mac’s words were cut short. Frank Halloran appeared behind her. The spiky blonde hair. The overall slimy look. It was him, alright.
Instant travel magic.
The leader of the Bucs lifted his handgun behind her head.
Mac swung his cane.
Edith dropped the box then ducked, just in time for Mac’s cane to slam into Frank’s outreached hand.
He dropped the gun.
“O’Malley. Thought we took you out of the equation. You stubborn Irish son of a bitch.” Frank’s fist slammed into Mac’s jaw, pitching his head backwards. It stunned him: his legs couldn’t support the follow through upper cut.
Mac fell to the gravel lot of the loading dock.
“Outta shape O’Malley. This is mine.” Frank Halloran looked in the box, then picked it up and started to run south toward the railroad tracks
Mac took a deep breath and lifted himself up to his knees. He drew his .44. The same gun that shot Frank’s brother.
He aimed at his butt.
“Edith plug your ears.”
Boom!
Frank dropped to the ground.
“What an asshole.” Edith said.
Mac smiled. “Which one?”
Chapter Forty
Mac and Millie sat with Vince in the Geneva police station.
“How the hell did Halloran slip out of the courthouse tower in that short span of time and make it all the way down to the Wanderer?" Vince sat in his chair and twirled a pencil, resting his feet on his desk.
“Dad said he jumped onto the refreshments tent in the back parking lot where the carnival was.” Millie shrugged her shoulders.
“Halloran is not a small guy. How did the tent not just collapse?” Vince twirled the pencil some more.
“Only the best tents for Swedish Days?” Millie smiled, hoping she looked confident.
“Mac, how the hell did you know where the Bucs were in the first place?”
“I’m not a rookie. I just did some sleuthing on my own. Vince, don’t worry about it. This is a national news type of bust you just pulled off.” Mac knew that one day he may have to break down and tell Vince about the magical world. Now wasn’t the time.
“Did Frank or any of the Bucs confess to killing Terry Murtaugh?”
“No, Frank is in the hospital getting a bullet removed from his ass. The others are lost without Frank, but Vic has agreed to testify. We have enough on them. We also have Jeff Archer who said he was just enjoying Swedish Days with his fam and then taken hostage with your Dad. We should be good.” Vince tapped the pencil to the desk top. “All right you two, get outta here. Leave the paperwork to the actual detectives.”
“See you later.” Mac waved.
Mac and Millie held hands and walked out of the police station. Sunset had cast a pink and purple sky over downtown Geneva. They headed back to the bank.
“You summoned a leprechaun to save me? How cool is that?” Mac laughed.
“This has been the most exhausting twenty-four hours of my life. Yes, I just hope Dermot won’t be too much of a problem and will just return to leprechaunland— and leave Gerald’s bank vault alone.” Millie put her head on Mac’s shoulder.
“Can’t wait to meet him.”
The bank was a short walk from the station. The conundrum-cracking couple drew closer.
Marie’s truck passed them and then parked in front of the bank.
“There’s Marie. Hopefully she has the money. Marie!” Millie yelled, waving at her
Marie waved back out the window.
Mac and Millie reached the truck.
“Jeff and Mary returned all my essence of hummingbird. They told me to thank you for your help and that all is forgiven with the Coven. Here’s the cash.” Marie held out the cash bag with the ten grand inside.
“Where’s Dermot?” Millie grabbed the cash and quickly stuffed it in her purse. She’d return to the bank tomorrow along with all the other cash bags.
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him.” Marie winked. She put the truck in drive and pulled away.
“Wait? What? Why?” Millie yelled for some answers.
“Oh deary! What a woman!” A tiny Irish accent sounded from behind them.
Mac and Millie turned around to see Dermot lying on the grass resting on his elbow.
“Dermot…are you ready to go home yet?”
“No, no. I think I will stay here a bit now.”
“Um, okay? Why? What about all of your pots of gold? You know. the end of rainbows thing?” Millie asked.
Mac smiled, his eyes growing wide. An actual leprechaun!
“Not all treasure is gold, deary.” And with that pearl of wisdom, he disappeared. He didn’t care about the money at all.
“What did she do to him?”
“A love potion most likely. Brilliant move, Marie.”
Speaking of treasure, Mac reached down into his pocket and could feel the diamond ring.
“Let’s go drink all the wine in the Geneva Wine Cellar.” Millie walked ahead.
The sound of steel drums sounded from the concert tent in front of the courthouse.
“Let’s do it. I mean all the wine is totally doable. Why was that leprechaun dressed like such a sloptart?”
“I do not. Okay, I totally do. I do. Still, I thought they were supposed to be dressed in suits!” Mac laughed.
Mac patted his pocket and would wait for another night. Not after the last twenty-four hours. He certainly didn’t want to memorialize the craziness they just endured.
He just wanted to enjoy the evening with the love of his life.
THE END
Festival of the Vine: A Mac and Millie Mystery Book 4
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The Festival of the Vine would be divine if it weren't for the murderous villain threatening to cross the line!
The Christmas Walk Caper: A Mac and Millie Mystery Book 1
The book that started it all!
Add 'Catch a killer’ to your Christmas to-do list!
In this delightful cozy mystery set in downtown Geneva, Illinois, our sarcastic and savvy sleuths will seek justice for the untimely death of the owner of the beloved and charming retail mansion: The Tiny Wanderer.
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Contents
“From the opening pages to the final sentence, you are treated to a rollercoaster of fun and frights.”- DT Chantel
The Swedish Days Swindle
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Festival of the Vine: A Mac and Millie Mystery Book 4
The Christmas Walk Caper: A Mac and Millie Mystery Book 1
Join a Roman Centurion and Celtic Queen in a high octane, paranormal thriller that reveals the origin of the Order of St. Michael! Three Chapter Excerpt
PROLOGUE
41. Chapter One
42. Chapter Two
43. Chapter Three
Also by JB Michaels
Also by JB Michaels
Copyright © 2020 by JB Michaels
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Join a Roman Centurion and Celtic Queen in a high octane, paranormal thriller that reveals the origin of the Order of St. Michael! Three Chapter Excerpt
PROLOGUE
“Stand together, men!” The battle-hardened legionary barked a desperate order.
The devastation surrounding the few soldiers struck fear into their brave hearts. Their brothers-in-arms once full of life and vigor, now lay dead in a most peculiar, inexplicable fashion.
“Shields at the ready! Let it come. We’ll push it back together. Togeth—”
A thumping bass sounded once again. Though the sky painted a gloomy gray over the land, the source of this thunder was no storm.
Sweat poured from their helmets. Heavy gasps gave way to controlled breaths. The soldiers packed themselves into a square. Calloused hands gripped hilts of the devastatingly effective short sword—the gladius. Their visibility low, only the small space between their shields showed the danger that charged them. The force that killed their friends. Their fellow men of the mightiest empire the world had ever known—the toughest men born from the blood of their ancestors with the mission to spread the glory of Rome fell in great numbers this day. The remaining thoughts of their homes, their families, their futures, fell to the wayside as the need to survive prevailed.
The rumble of a beast’s massive feet moved closer and closer.
“Stand ready, men! Get ready to push it back!”
The loud, guttural roar of the monster muted the centurion’s commands and words of encouragement.
“Hold! Iehova be with us!”
41
Chapter One
Magnus Vicillius looked out onto the shoreline from the small rowboat powered by men in his charge. The gray sky and the cool temperature did little to welcome the warrior to Britannia. The temperature of the air served as harsh reminder of the wear on his body serving twenty years for SPQR. The Senate and the People of Rome relied on his service to maintain and strengthen the empire.
The neck of the muscular centurion ached. He hurt it pushing a battering ram into the walls of a Germanic fort.
There were many other scars that riddled his back. The barbarians sent out their women in the night to assassinate him and the other officers. He woke upon the first slash of many. Her wild demeanor nearly killed him. Magnus gained the advantage quickly, but his sleepy state caused him much grief. He rarely slept from that night forward. The incident proved his closest brush with death. No battle or bloody skirmishes with men bigger and stronger than he were as dangerous.
Still, Magnus neared the end of his term. In just five short years, he would receive the land promised to him and be able to live peacefully. Away from the frontiers filled with uncertainty and danger.
His reputation preceded him. A greeting party waited for him.
His men jumped from the rowboat into the shallows and pushed the boat up to the beach.
“Greetings, Magnus. Governor Gricola requests your presence immediately.” A man dressed in gray robes surrounded by four soldiers looked deadly serious.
“Take me to him.” Magnus, in full centurion regalia—full metal breastplate, his large belt which held Marius’s mule, his centurion-class helmet with the crimson crest of hair— stepped onto the beach of dismal Britannia. His sandal-boots sank into the wet sand.
Governor Gricola rubbed his hands on the robe covering his knees. “I sent them past the wall to attempt a peaceful conversion. They have yet to return. I sent for you to investigate and retrieve these men. I assure you I gave them orders to escort the missionary and march on peace and not conquest.”
Magnus stood in front of the governor with his helmet under his arm. “The tribes in Caledonia historically don’t take kindly to Roman legions marching onto their land no matter the mission.”
“Of course, Vicillius. I wouldn’t have sent them had I not sent scouts to procure a meeting with a tribal leader who sought knowledge of Iehova or Yeshua or whichever nomenclature they use. Of course, it would be in my best interest to bring Constantine’s god to the frontier.”
“I shall march with my men upon first light.”
“No more time should be wasted. I’d hoped they would return in the time it took for the message to reach Rome. Alas, they have yet to return.”
“I assure you, my men will find out what happened to them, Governor.” Magnus stood tall in the lavish, intricate, wood-carved sitting room of the govern
or’s villa.
“That is why I requested you, Magnus. You shall have the full complement of my local auxiliaries manning Hadrian’s wall, if you please.”
“Though I appreciate the gesture, we’d better not stir up the tribes with another larger force beyond the walls. If we need the might of your forces, I shall send my best messenger for their assistance.”
“Remember, Magnus. There is a reason we built the wall. Please come back.” The governor stood from his chair and nodded to Magnus.
The centurion didn’t know if Gricola’s plea was genuine. He’d just admitted that he sent the troop to help convert the pagans of the North to gain favor with the emperor. Over the years, Magnus realized that rarely were the intentions of the patricians in power purely selfless.
“I appreciate your concern for the finest soldiers of the empire. We will be back, Governor.”
42
The Swedish Days Swindle Page 9
