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Ashes on the Waves

Page 19

by Mary Lindsey


  Bang, bang, bang.

  “Open up! She’s gone missing and Miss Ronan sent me to fetch ’er back before nightfall.”

  “Crap.” Anna covered her head with a pillow and then mumbled something indecipherable.

  I attempted to disentangle my legs from hers, but she tightened her grip and grabbed my shirt. “No. Ignore him.”

  “I can’t. There’s no lock on the door of this house and he’ll come in if I don’t answer.” I swung my legs over the side of the lety dth="1em">bed. “Just a minute,” I called.

  “So what? We’ve got our clothes on. Believe me, I’ve been in crazier situations than this.”

  I ran my fingers through my sleep-tousled hair. “Not with me. I won’t do anything to compromise you.”

  She rolled over to face me. “Oh, my God. You are something else. My own hot time capsule.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but thank you.” I looked out the curtain to see the sun setting. We had slept all day.

  Bang, bang, bang!

  “I said I’m coming,” I shouted, lacing up my hiking boots.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me and opened the front door. Connor MacFarley, red-faced and sweating, stood on the porch. “Where is she?” He craned his neck to look around me into the house.

  “She’s inside. I’ll bring her to Taibhreamh directly.”

  “Listen here. I’ve been instructed to bring her back myself without you. And you’d better watch your step. Next time, it won’t just be yer home that’s burned to ashes.”

  “Are you threatening Liam?” Anna asked from behind me. “Aren’t you a Taibhreamh employee?”

  Connor’s mouth clamped shut and his face grew even redder, all the way up over his bald head. He adjusted his eye patch and shuffled foot to foot. The fear of starvation or freezing to death in the winter could shut down even the most aggressive of men.

  “We’ll both walk her back,” I said.

  “Yer to stay put here.”

  “I don’t trust you to deliver her home safely,” I said. “People tend to fall off cliffs when you’re around.”

  “It’d be best you keep that in mind, MacGregor.”

  “Stop it,” Anna said. “I’ll go back, but I want Liam to come with us. He goes or I don’t.” She slammed the door in his face before he could react.

  “I hate this place,” she fumed, stomping to the bedroom. “People push each other off cliffs!” She picked up her handbag and slung it over her shoulder. “And they get away with it.”

  She paused, staring at the drawing on the floor I had made. She picked it up and sat on the bed. “You make me look like an angel.”

  “You are one.” An angel sent to save me from the misery of this world where people do horrible things and get away with it. My angel.

  She said nothing for a long time as she stared at the drawing. “I love how I look through your eyes.”

  My rib cage felt too small for my heart.

  Bang, bang, bang.

  Anna growled and set the drawing on the bed. “When I finally get to talk to my parents, old One Eye out there is top on my list of complaints.”

  As expected, Miss Ronan was waiting for us when we reached Taibhreamh. On the porch along with her was Deirdre Byrne, her dirty smock replaced with a black dress and a starched white apron. Anna smiled at her, but the girl couldn’t take her eyes off Connor MacFarley, whose salacious stare held her paralyzed.

  “I have told you that it is dangerous to be out after dark, Anna,” Miss Ronan said. “I assured your parents you would always be home before sunset.”

  old you t1em">Anna smirked. “Oh, yeah. Well, it was okay. I was with Liam. . . . No, wait. He’s one of the dangers, isn’t he?” She pulled my face to hers for a kiss that left me breathless and stunned. “I love danger,” she said, leading me up the porch steps by the hand. “Danger turns me on.”

  She yanked the door opened and slammed it behind us once we were inside. “I wish I could see Ronan’s face right now,” she said, running up the stairs. I followed, still a bit stunned.

  “It is best not to incite her,” I said. “We don’t know enough about her yet to agitate her.”

  Anna flopped onto her bed. “She’s always agitated.”

  I stopped just inside the room. “Yes, but until we know exactly who or what she is, it would be best to play by her rules.”

  “I know exactly what she is,” she said. “She’s a—”

  “Stop. Francine believes words and actions come back. We need all the help we can get.” A horrible sense of foreboding had haunted me all the way here. “We need to find out more about her and what happened to your uncle.”

  “And your mother.”

  “Yes. I think they’re all linked.” With that, the Bean Sidhes started up at a deafening volume.

  “So, they are linked?” Anna asked the air. The wailing increased in volume, which I didn’t think possible. “Linked to this house?” The pitch got higher and Anna stuck her fingers in her ears. “Okay, then be quiet so we can think.”

  The Bean Sidhes fell silent and I sighed with relief.

  “Time to explore,” Anna said, pushing to her feet.

  Deirdre knocked gently on the door frame, eyes cast to the floor. “I’m sorry, miss. I’ve been sent to tell you that dinner is served and to ask if the . . . if Mr. MacGregor will be staying for dinner.”

  “He will, and so will you. Tell Miss Ronan to set three places.”

  Deirdre’s eyes grew huge. “Oh, no, miss. I couldn’t possibly. I’ll be beaten for sure.”

  Anna strode through the door. “I’ll tell her, then. If anyone raises a hand to you, they are fired.”

  Deirdre stood trembling in the doorway.

  “Did Miss Ronan threaten you?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. My da.”

  I nodded. “Mine too.”

  She met my eyes for only a moment, bobbed a curtsy, and fled. At least it was something. She’d actually made eye contact. Though earning her trust might be next to impossible after thirteen years of brainwashing.

  We dined in the huge room where Anna had entertained her friends. This time there was no roaring fire at the end of the room. The enormous fireplace stood cold and black like the entrance to a dungeon rather than the fiery gateway to hell.

  The food was amazing, of course, though part of me pondered the grim possibility that Brigid Ronan might have poisoned it. This didn’t give me pause for long because it smelled irresistible. Deirdre didn’t eat at first but eventually agreed after Anna threatened to turn her out if she didn’t clean her plate.

  “Would you like some of the chicken, miss?” Deirdre asked, pushing the plate closer to her.

  Anna met my eyes before answering. “No thank you. Not today.”

  “Fish, then?”

  “No. I’ll pass for now.”

  “My ma says that I have to eat meat so I’ll be strong for my hus . . .” Her eyes filled with tears. “Excuse me.” She shoved her chair back and ran from the room.

  Anna dropped her fork. “A little girl shouldn’t have to go through this.” She scooted her chair away from the table. “Have I told you I hate this place?”

  I set my fork down. “You have indeed.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression.” She stood.

  “You could never be accused of that.” I smiled in spite of myself. She was gorgeous with heightened color in her cheeks.

  She placed two more rolls on the girl’s plate and covered it with a napkin. “Where do you suppose she went?”

  “I have no idea. To her room, perhaps?”

  Anna picked up the plate. “I’m going to go find her. You can stay and finish your dinner if you want to.”

  I stood. “And let you play hide-and-seek without me? We can start exploring right now. Maybe we can find some clues as well as your assistant.”

  Anna nearly slammed head-on into Miss Ronan as she burst from the dining room.
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  “Is something wrong?” she asked in her deep voice.

  “Yeah. Where’s Deirdre’s room?”

  “Through there.” She pointed at the door under the center of the double staircase.

  I shuddered. The staircases on either side of the door still looked like the jaws of a huge spider to me and we were about to willingly walk into its mouth.

  Miss Ronan didn’t appear the least bit ruffled at Anna’s urgency. “The first door on the left.”

  When we reached the room, the lights were out. The white, gauzy curtains on either side of the open window fluttered in the evening air. “Deirdre?” Anna whispered. She flipped on the light switch. The door in the far corner was closed, as was the one to the left of the entrance door. She opened the one to the left first. It was a closet containing only a black dress, an apron, and Deirdre’s clothes from earlier today. A muffled cry came from behind the other door.

  “Deirdre?” Anna called again, setting the plate on a chest of drawers. There was a thumping sound and then a scream. “No! Please don’t!”

  Anna sprinted to the door with me on her heels. She threw the door open and gasped.

  Connor MacFarley had Deirdre backed up against the wall with her skirt hiked up to her waist.

  “Stop!” Anna shouted. “Let her go right now.”

  He released the girl and she slumped down to a heap on the floor, racked with sobs.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Anna asked, fists clenched.

  “I might ask you the same thing,” MacFarley replied coolly.

  Anna helped Deirdre to her feet. “It appears I’m stopping you from raping a child.”

  “What’s yours can’t be raped,” he said, arms across his chest.

  Anna’s mouth fell open. th

  He yanked Deirdre back to him by the upper arm. Her only sign of resistance was a pitiful squeak. “She’s mine. Her parents gave her to me. I’m to provide for her and take care of her any way I see fit.”

  “Oh, my God,” Anna gasped. “You’re her . . . They’re marrying her off to you?”

  Deirdre gave a pitiful sob that made my chest ache. My pa had beaten me, but I had never feared a lifetime of torture like this poor girl.

  The grin on MacFarley’s face exposed several missing teeth. “They are. We are to be wed on the next full moon, so you can leave now.”

  “Please go get Miss Ronan,” Anna said to me.

  I didn’t have to go far. She was lurking right outside the door. Her completely unconcerned demeanor made the demon in me growl.

  “Yes, Miss Leighton?” she said in an almost-bored tone.

  “Here’s the deal,” Anna said. “From now on, this . . .” She pointed at MacFarley. “This man does not set foot inside the house. He is not to have access to Deirdre ever on this property. She is not to leave this house without me. Not even with her . . . no, especially not with her parents.”

  Miss Ronan simply lifted an eyebrow.

  “If I find out he has laid a finger on her, neither Connor MacFarley nor you will have a job. My family will close this house and throw you out, Miss Ronan. Do you understand?”

  She no longer looked bored. With precise articulation indicating focused control, she answered. “You have made yourself perfectly clear. Yes, I understand.”

  “Let her go,” Anna ordered.

  MacFarley raised his hands in the air in surrender and the girl flew to Anna, clinging to her like a drowning person to a life ring. Anna’s voice was low and measured. “Where I come from, there are laws against attacking children. You are despicable. Get out of my house.”

  MacFarley shot a glance at Miss Ronan, who looked away. Without a word, he stomped out of the room. No one moved or spoke until after the front door slammed.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” Deirdre sniffled, still clinging to Anna. Anna ran her hands through the girl’s mess of hair that had been in a tidy knot at dinner.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  When I stole a look at Miss Ronan, she appeared to be moved. Her features had softened and her lip quivered. She caught me looking and immediately stiffened into her stoic self. “Will there be anything else, Miss Leighton?”

  “Yes. I want her things moved up to my room. She’s going to stay with me tonight.”

  The girl clung even tighter. Anna met my gaze over her head and I smiled. Her heart was so giving and strong. Never had I known anyone like her.

  Once Anna had tucked Deirdre into her bed with the plate of food and the iPad playing a movie made of drawings about a mouse, she joined me on the upstairs balcony overlooking the entry hall. “I’m going to find a way to get her off this island before that monster hurts her.” She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. “Poor thing. She’ll be asleep before the movie is over.”

  “You need some sleep too,” I said.< saulder at t/p>

  “I slept all day.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  It had been almost impossible. “You were so peaceful.”

  She leaned her elbows on the railing. “So, did I do or say anything embarrassing?”

  “I slept too.”

  “Not while you were drawing me.”

  I smiled.

  “What did I say?”

  I leaned my elbow on the railing next to her. “You told me that you wanted me forever.”

  She blushed and straightened. “That’s so embarrassing.”

  “Why?”

  “It just is.”

  I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her against me. “You only articulated my exact thoughts. I want you forever, Anna. In this world and whatever comes after.”

  She entwined her fingers in my hair and pulled my lips to hers. “Forever isn’t long enough,” she said just as the Bean Sidhes started up.

  I pulled away laughing.

  “It’s not funny!” she said. “They’re doing it on purpose.”

  “They’re reminding us to stay true to our task. We need to solve the murders.”

  “This is making me crazy. You guys suck!” she shouted at the air. “Shut up. We’re working on it.”

  “Where should we start?” I asked, chuckling.

  She looked around and settled her gaze on the alcove to her uncle’s room. “Where he hung out the most, I guess.”

  The room was even more oppressive than I remembered it—from the enormous carved bedposts with depictions of game hanging to dry to the grim paintings in the gilt frames. Most were still-life oil paintings, but something about the subjects unnerved me. They featured fruit or flowers past their prime in various states of decay and rot. Several had flies or worms. And everything about the room was dark. I felt certain that even in the daytime with the red curtains drawn open, it would still be gloomy.

  I pulled one of the smaller paintings down and held it close to the lamp. “Whose initials are these: FMR?”

  She continued rummaging through a desk drawer. “Uncle Frank’s. Francis Michael Richards.”

  “Richards. Your mother’s side, then?” I hung the painting back on the hook.

  She closed the drawer. “No. He’s not really my uncle. He was a friend of my grandfather’s. We just called him Uncle Frank.”

  I examined another painting. The same initials were in the bottom-right corner. “How did he come to live here, then?”

  Anna picked up a framed picture from the top of the dresser. “Because of her.” She turned the picture toward me. It was a portrait in oil as well, but it depicted not elements of rot or decay, simply a lovely blond woman smiling out at me.

  “That was his wife. When she died twenty-something years ago, he flipped out and my granddad let him move in here. It was supposed to be temporary, but he never left.” She shrugged. “Or at least we think he didn’t.”

  She stared at the portrait in her hands. “Wouldn’t “in herit be funny if he just left and hadn’t died at all and
all of this is just a wild-goose chase? Maybe he’s hanging on a beach in the Bahamas laughing at all of us.”

  The Bean Sidhes screeched at such a deafening level, she dropped the portrait.

  “Okay. I get it! We’ll keep looking. Stop!” she said, ears covered.

  The creatures ceased keening.

  I took another picture down and held it to the light. This one depicted a large horsefly on a piece of half-eaten melon. The color he used for the melon flesh was a putrid shade of chartreuse that gave the entire piece a sickening feel. When I lifted the picture to replace it, I noticed something odd about the peg.

  “Come look at this,” I said, putting the picture on the floor.

  She studied the peg. “What?”

  “There are notches in the wood just above and under the peg. The other wasn’t like that.”

  On closer examination, I noticed the joint between the molding and the wooden panel was not as tight as that of the panels on either side. Warily, I reached up and touched the peg. Nothing. I pulled down on it with no result. I pressed in with no effect, but when I pushed up from the bottom, a loud click sounded behind the panel.

  “Oh, my God. It’s like an Alfred Hitchcock movie!” Anna gasped.

  “What’s an Alfred Hitchcock movie?”

  “It’s probably better that you don’t know.” She ran her fingers along the crack that had widened when the panel clicked. “There’s a latch or something.” She bit her lower lip as she ran her fingers in the gap. “Got it.” Another click and the panel swung open.

  A musty smell wafted from the opening and we both took an instinctual step back.

  “This is really creepy, Liam. We should get a flashlight or something.”

  “Agreed.”

  She started toward the door. “I’ll go ask Miss Ronan for one.”

  “No, wait! We should probably do this without notice.”

  “Ahhh. Gotcha.” Her brow furrowed in thought. “I know. We can go old school. There are candles in the top desk drawer and a lighter too.”

  I opened the drawer. “Probably kept for this very purpose.” I pulled two candles out along with a lighter and closed the drawer. I passed Anna the candles and ignited both. After putting the lighter in my front pocket, I took a candle from her. “I’ll go in first.”

 

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