The Defender (The Carrier Series Book 2)

by Diana Ryan

  Stop! What are you thinking? Ava doesn’t even know you’re alive at this point. You could possibly never see her again, let alone be able to propose marriage to her.

  I put the ring back in the box and threw it in my open suitcase on the floor.

  I sat down on the chair again, opened my laptop, and took out a new document. I labeled it “Ethan Myers.” The cursor sat at the end of the line blinking at me, waiting for me to write something. But we didn’t have any more information, and at this point I wasn’t sure we’d ever find any more. I wanted more than anything to search out whatever I needed to take down Myers, but how could I advance the next piece in the game when I didn’t even know what game we were playing?

  I snapped the laptop shut again and threw it on the bed. Then I let out a loud grunt filled with disappointment and defeat, and I kicked the bed, knocking down the contents of the bedside table. A glass lamp fell to the floor and broke. I let out another groan, more subdued, and sank to my knees, head in my hands.

  Suddenly a knock on the door broke me from my desperate sense of failure. I jumped to my feet and went over to the door. Drew and Darcy were visible from the peephole. Why was she here so early in the morning? Drew moved in close, placing his hand on her hip and whispering something into her ear, his cheek intentionally brushing hers. She giggled and hit him playfully on the shoulder, whispering something in return that I couldn’t make out.

  Drew’s attention went back to the door before him. “Nolan? You okay?” He called from outside my door, knocking again.

  I slowly unlocked the door and opened it. “I’m fine, why?”

  “We heard a crash.” He plowed past me and surveyed the scene. “Have you got a girl in here playing naked pillow fight with ya?” His joking face quickly turned sour when he found the broken lamp. He turned toward me for an explanation.

  “I knocked it off accidentally.”

  Darcy cut in before Drew could shame me. “No problem Nolan. Don’t worry.” She crossed the room and began to throw pieces into the garbage can near the desk. Why she was coming to my defense, I had no idea.

  “It looks like you really need to get out of here. Darcy suggested we go take the Guinness factory tour. Why don’t you call up Laura and have her meet us there?”

  A factory tour? “I don’t know, isn’t there a better way to spend our time? I don’t want to waste the day knowing I could be researching somehow.”

  “As much as you don’t like it, Nolan, it seems you are somewhat at a standstill.” Darcy had finished cleaning up the glass from the carpet. “Come take the tour. If you’re in a better mood, you’ll be able to think more clearly when we get some relevant information.”

  I took a deep breath. “Fine.” Maybe being with Laura would help my mindset. If not her, then a few pints might do the trick.

  Drew and Darcy headed toward the door. “Get yourself together and meet us in the lobby in twenty minutes.” Then Drew stopped, just before he left the room, and turned toward me, looking me right in the eye. “We’re gonna get him, Nolan. No doubt about that.”

  “Thanks, Drew.” It was a good thing he had confidence because mine was as broken as the lamp that had smashed to the floor.

  I let the door swing shut, and then entered the bathroom. My cell vibrated on the bedside table, buzzing the wood. I picked it up—Adam was calling.

  “Adam. How’s my girl?”

  “She’s doing well. I’ve been watching her from afar, and she seems to be able to go about her normal life.”

  “Are you confident in that? She just underwent major brain surgery. Perhaps you’re not watching her closely enough.”

  “I’m working on it, Nolan. I can’t just force myself into her life. I have to ease my way into it. You know, form a friendship with her so she feels comfortable letting me into her life a little.”

  “And how do you plan on forming this friendship with her?” I picked up some dirty clothes lying around the room and threw them into my open suitcase.

  “Bowman’s nephew is a Theta Sig and he was able to get me into the fraternity undercover as an exchange student. No one in the frat knows I’m not really a student except for Bowman’s nephew.”

  “Nice cover.” I took a pee and then flushed as I walked out of the bathroom.

  “He made me cut my hair, though. He said I looked too old the other way.”

  “Darn! Those big blond curls looked good on you!” It was a bold-faced lie. Those curls were nasty.

  “Yeah, sure, Hill,” he laughed. “Oh, blimey, I almost forgot, you’re a computer tech, right?”

  “Not really, Drew’s more—”

  “I think we’ll have to run a trace on Ava’s cell. I’m concerned her mother might mention you in casual conversation and trigger a dangerous flashback within her brain.”

  I sat down on the bed. He was right. “When you hang up, call Bowman right away. We’ll want the agency listening into all of her calls. If someone she talks to mentions me or anything about last summer, they’ll have to terminate the call right away.” A tiny stress headache was beginning to form behind my left eye and I rubbed my skull trying to invite relief. “They’ll have to scan her emails, too.”

  “Right, right. I’ll make sure the agency takes care of that. Thanks, Nolan.”

  Silence followed for a few seconds as I considered what Laura had said. Maybe the agency was already screening Ava’s emails.

  “So, how are things going with you two over in Ireland? Making any progress?”

  “So far it’s been pretty dry.”

  “Hang in there. You’ll uncover something soon, I’m quite sure of it. Well, I better call Agent Bowman. Bye, Nolan.”

  I hung up and stared at my reflection in the mirror for a while. My mind placed a very beautiful brown-haired woman kneeling on the bed behind me. She ran her arms down the front of my chest and sensually kissed my neck. It was so real I could smell her scent lingering under my nose. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, and then raised my hands to grab the ones resting on my chest, but nothing was there. My daydream quickly ended as reality set in around me.

  I opened my eyes and picked up my phone, letting out a loud sigh. I found Laura’s number in my contacts and stared at the phone for a while, grabbing some courage deep within me.

  One hour later, Drew, Darcy, Laura, and I stood at the bottom of an escalator in the atrium of the Guinness storehouse. The world’s largest pint glass rose up through the floors to the top of the building. Our tour guide, a local gal named Bridget, met us at the bottom and spouted out facts about one of the world’s most favorite stout beers.

  “Let’s take the escalator to the second floor to begin your journey through the history of Guinness. Follow me, please.”

  “Thanks for texting, Nolan,” Laura said as we rode up the escalator. “I’m glad I had my afternoon free. This is awesome!” She craned her neck to see through the space in the middle of the building. Laura looked pretty with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and a dark green scarf nesting around her neck. She was wearing a tan jacket and jeans with tastefully furry brown boots.

  “I don’t think I’ve asked you, what are you studying while you are here in Ireland?”

  “Russian Literature.”

  “Russian Lit? Why would—?” She cut me off, laughing.

  “No, of course not!” Her laugh was identical to Ava’s. “I’m studying stage management and technical theater.”

  “Really?” I liked how she teased me, just like Ava used to.

  “Yes, really!” She furrowed her brow at me. “Does it not sound like something I would do?”

  “No, no. It’s just a career I don’t hear too much about. I’m guessing you’re interested in working backstage on a Broadway production?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” We were almost to the top of the escalator. “I love theater, but I don’t have the talent or the guts to get up in front of a crowd. I find the inner workings of the backstage just as s
atisfying.”

  Ava would have no problem singing in front of a crowd. Her confidence in that category was unwavering.

  “There is a tremendous amount of work that goes into a musical production—the audience usually has no idea.”

  We stepped off the escalator and assembled into a small group by a sign titled Arthur Guinness, 1759, St. James Gate, Dublin. A handsome old-time photograph of Mr. Guinness himself hung underneath.

  After a quick explanation of who Mr. Guinness was and how he bought his brewery, the tour guide sent us through the four floors of exhibits, and we learned many facts about the history of this two-hundred-year-old stout beer.

  The tour ended on the top floor of the factory at The Gravity Bar, a three-hundred-sixty-degree room high above Dublin with floor to ceiling windows facing a gorgeous view of the city. A handsome, circular bar occupied the center of the room complete with a Guinness tap every few feet. We learned how to pour a perfect Guinness from a master barman, and then sat down at a table on the south side of the building.

  “To life!” Laura raised her glass in the air.

  “To life!” the rest of us echoed as we clinked our glasses.

  Laura took a good chug of her beer and almost spit it out in Drew’s face. “Oh my God! That is disgusting!”

  The rest of us laughed as she took a napkin and tried to vigorously rub the beer residue from her tongue.

  “Oh, come on, it’s delicious!” Drew replied and I agreed.

  Darcy took another sip, “I guess it’s an acquired taste.” She closed her eyes and made a quiet mmm sound. “Reminds me of Mama and Papa.”

  “Maybe you need another taste. Send it down the hatch one more time!” Drew pushed the glass closer to Laura’s fingers, and we all laughed.

  “Oh, jeez.” Laura picked up the pint and drank the whole glass, pounding her fist down on the table, eyes shut tight. Then she slammed the glass onto the tabletop, let out a loud belch, and groaned.

  I patted her on the back. “You’re a good sport, Laura.” She looked like she might vomit on the table. “Perhaps you need a more mature tongue. Mine adores Guinness completely.”

  “Then bring me another!” she called. “Maybe I need a few to really form my opinion.”

  Drew smiled and went to the bar to buy Laura another. Darcy and Laura chatted a little about Dublin, Laura asking the local for some advice on the best places to eat, shop, and visit. When Drew returned, Laura chugged half the beer, scrunched up her faced a moaned.

  She pushed her glass toward me, “Here, you drink the rest. I can’t do it.” I pulled her glass over to stand next to mine. “I’m going to hit the ladies room. Do you have to go, Darcy?”

  “Sure,” Darcy replied.

  As the women got up I excused myself too, and headed past the bar over to a secluded section on the other side of the room. I wanted to look out the windows and be with alone with my thoughts.

  The view of the city’s skyline went clear out to the Dublin Mountains bordering the town. I could see Phoenix Park to the west, one of Dublin’s largest public park areas, and the rolling Irish Sea to the east. Printed on the glass window every few feet was a list of points of interest visible from that vantage point. Poking up throughout the red and grey brick rooftops were spires of cathedrals and castle bell towers.

  This is magnificent, my heart expressed. Ava would love the view.

  I missed her with every inch of my heart.

  “I’m sure she misses you, too.” A familiar and soothing voice rang in my ear. Laura was standing only a few inches behind me.

  “I’m sure she does,” I said quietly.

  My brain retorted the painful truth: Ava doesn’t miss you at all.

  “Ava has never said a bad word about you. Even after what happened last summer.” Laura moved over to my right side and stared out the window with me, shoulder touching mine. “She knows what a perfect catch you are.”

  “She’s pretty wonderful, herself.” My heart ached so intensely for Ava to be right in the moment with me. I longed to wrap my arms around her and stare out the windows over the beautiful foreign city together. I released a ragged breath as a lump collected in my throat.

  No. No crying. My brain warned. Especially not here.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Nolan,” she said sweetly.

  A gentle hand turned my shoulder until I was facing Laura, only inches from her face. I looked into her eyes. I wanted so desperately to find a piece of Ava inside those eyes.

  Then she lightly touched my cheek. My knees went weak and I closed my eyes, leaning into the palm of her hand. She let my face rest, cradled there while I pictured Ava’s sweet skin next to mine. And then beyond all of our control, we both leaned in slowly at the same time, heads tilted. My heart beat madly as I felt her breath so close to my lips. We held our position for a few quiet seconds while I instinctively moved my hand onto her waist, pulling her hips a little closer. I involuntarily let out a breathy sound followed by the word, Ava, the second our lips touched.

  “Oh! Oh, oh…Nolan! I’m so sorry.” She backed away from me quickly. “I just…I’m so lonely here, and the beer…. Oh God! Please don’t tell Ava!”

  What the hell are you doing? My brain asked.

  “No no no. I’m so sorry, Laura. It’s just as much my fault.” I took a few steps back. How could I have let this happen?

  “Let’s swear right here and now that no one will ever know about this.” Laura’s face was flush with embarrassment.

  “Absolutely. I promise.” My stomach felt tied up in knots.

  “You know, I should probably find my way back to campus now.” Laura reached into her purse and grabbed her cell, checking the screen. Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion for several seconds and then she shook her head as she replaced her phone back into her purse. “Well, thanks for…well, I mean…I’ll see you around, Nolan.” Then she turned and left before I could apologize again.

  I let out a huge sigh.

  You idiot! my brain scolded.

  You miss Ava, my heart explained. You just want her here with you.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday, October 19th

  Right after a quick pub lunch, Drew and I walked the few blocks to Trinity College. We entered through an old wrought iron gate off of College Green. A tall building of smooth grey stone stood before us. The sidewalk led to two oversized, wooden doors offering entrance to the university. There was very little activity on campus this early; the college kids were inevitably still sleeping.

  We walked through an ancient stone tunnel and emerged in a colorful courtyard. Signs led us across grey cobblestone walkways, through beautiful gardens, and over Fellows’ Square until we came to The Old Library. The Old Library was home to the lavishly decorated Book of Kells, a ninth-century gospel manuscript on display for tourists and locals alike. Housed in the building were also the offices of Eneclann.

  We were greeted by a woman sitting at an oversized mahogany desk. The burnt orange wall behind her was softly up-lit from the floor and displayed a large, antique-looking map.

  “May I help you lads?” Glasses hung from a green string and rested on her low hanging bosoms. Her stark white hair was pulled up into a bun, stray pieces escaping around her wrinkled face.

  “Yes. I’m Drew Smith. I believe you are expecting us?” There was no one else in the lobby; in fact it was oddly quiet.

  “Yes. Brynn is waiting for you in meeting room 10B. Just follow the hall.”

  The building had obviously been remodeled—the inside was very modern looking with sleek lighting and smooth, long lines. We walked down the quiet hallway past several doors and windows looking into a series of meeting rooms, all with no lights on. I had an eerie feeling; it seemed like there should be more people around. One room had its light on farther down—room 10B.

  Upon entering we were greeted by a middle-aged, mousy woman. She had pale skin and wildly wavy hair. Brynn got right to business. “Hello, gentle
men. Welcome to Eneclann, please have a seat. Agent McCombe has alerted me to your inquiry. In preparation for our meeting I have made a few guesses at the origin of the name you are researching.”

  We took a seat at the oval table in the middle of the room. Brynn put on gloves and carefully opened a timeworn book. A silver laptop lay beside the book and a small cup of tea on a flower-patterned saucer was off to the side.

  “We are looking for the place of origin of the surname Myers.” I spelled it out for her. “We also have interest in identifying where two specific Myers could have lived in the time period of the late 1800s to about 1950.”

  “Yes. I was able to find record in our archives of several Mayers families in County Kerry in the mid 19th century, but haven’t found the spelling M-y-e-r-s anywhere in my research. Is it possible Mayers is the name you are looking for?”

  She slid the book over for us to see the page with dates and addresses of several Mayers families. “This man goes by the name Myers now.”

  I noticed a strange handwritten insignia in the margin near the names.

  “Is it possible the family changed their name upon coming to America in the early 1900s?” Drew questioned her.

  “Entirely possible.” Brynn checked her computer. “I also found some other possible spellings of Myers—Meyers and Myars.” I put the spellings into my phone for the time being.

  Brynn pulled over another old book that was sitting on the table and opened to a marked page near the middle. “I decided to dig a little deeper and found an old Celtic spelling of Myers in this manuscript. It is spelled Ó Meidhir, which seems to come from a Scottish or English origin, probably deriving from a word meaning ‘physician.’”

  “That’s it!” I knew deep in my heart—Ethan Myers’s ancestors had to have been Ó Meidhirs.

  Brynn shot me a strange look, but continued on. “Unfortunately I wasn’t able to find much more about the family Ó Meidhir through my research. You’d have to go to a local primary source to dig up any more information.”

  “County Kerry you say?” Drew was taking notes on his tablet.