No wonder Birch had her panties in a twist over his refusal to arrest Logan Kent. “Did Leonard bother either of you again?”
“Once more,” she whispered, her eyes turning pained as she fingered the jacket on her lap. “He must have been watching our building, because two days later he ran Birch off the road and . . . and he . . .”
“And he what?” Niall gently prodded, covering her knee with his hand.
“After forcing her car into the ditch, Leo got out and started beating on the driver’s window when Birch locked the doors, shouting that she had no right to interfere in our marriage. But she managed to back out of the ditch and drive off even though the passenger window was blown out and the right front fender had crumpled in on the tire.” Hazel crumpled like Niall assumed the fender had and hid her face in her trembling hands. “My bébé could have been badly hurt or even killed because of me.”
“Hey there,” Niall murmured, sliding to one knee in front of Hazel and pulling her hands into his. “We both know it’s going to take a lot more than some cowardly man to bring down your daughter.”
Hazel drew in a shuddering breath. “Well, I certainly don’t need any stupid law to tell me I can’t ever remarry, because when I saw the bruise on Birch’s cheek and her swollen knee, I swore on my mémère Hynes’s soul that I’m never even smiling at another man again.”
She must have forgotten her vow today with Sam, Niall decided as he fought his own grin. “Ye best start practicing in the mirror then, because I believe your mouth is permanently lifted at its corners. Or better yet,” he continued at her surprise, “maybe Birch could give ye lessons. She seems to have perfected a good scowl.”
The corners of Hazel’s mouth twitched higher. “Oh, Niall,” she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Aye,” he said on an exaggerated sigh as he stood up. “I’ve a fear my dear sainted mother would agree with ye.”
“Oh, go on now,” she said, waving him away. “Go see what Sam meant about finding you a jail so you can finally arrest someone.”
Niall hesitated, until he saw Hazel wipe her eyes again and realized she wanted time alone to compose herself. “As soon as I’m done with Sam, I’ll give you a ride home,” he said, turning toward the back of the store.
“But you can’t arrest Logan Kent,” she added, making Niall stop. “I think that poor man should be given a medal for staying married to Noreen for forty-six years.”
“If that’s how ye feel, then I’m afraid you’re in the minority of women in town.”
“Only because none of them have lived with Noreen for the last two weeks.”
“You’ll stay put?” he thought to clarify, “and let me drive you home?”
“I’ll stay put. Oh, there’s Peg and Charlie. Peg,” Hazel called out, not a tear in sight as she motioned for Duncan’s wife and three-year-old son to come over.
“Mizry Hazel!” the boy shouted, hurling himself at her. “Eww, you is all wet.”
“And look at you, Mr. Charlie, as dry as a duck in a desert.”
“Ducks don’t live in deserts; them live in seas. And I’m Mur the Magwificant.”
“Not today you’re not,” Peg said, plopping down in the chair beside Hazel and resting her hands on her very pregnant belly. “Today you’re Mr. Incorrigible.”
Apparently forgetting she was through smiling at men, Hazel beamed Niall a brilliant smile as she pulled Murdoc—the kid’s name was Murdoc Charles MacKeage, with Duncan calling him Mur and Peg calling him Charlie—up onto her lap and ruffled his curly blond hair. “That’s okay, Mur the Magnificent, because it so happens I adore incorrigible rogues.”
Which is why your daughter doesn’t want you talking to them, Niall refrained from saying. He nodded at Peg, then headed down the aisle, thinking it was more like Hazel adored incorrigible bastards—remembering that one of her husbands had cheated on her, one had claimed to be a king, and the last one had already spent this year’s trust fund installment.
Upon realizing he’d likely be living in twenty-first-century America for the rest of his natural life, Niall had made a point of educating himself on modern finance, U. S. and world history, and as much as he could fathom of the sciences. So he was fairly certain that trust funds involved monies bequeathed from a deceased family member, implying that whoever had set up Hazel’s trust had obviously known her quite well.
“That lady needs a keeper,” Sam said as he stepped out of a nearby aisle.
“You heard?”
Sam gave a shrug and continued toward the back of the store. “Eavesdropping is a hard habit to break.”
“Especially when the subject is interesting,” Niall said.
“Hey, I’d be a hundred times dead if I hadn’t perfected that particular habit. So who in hell told Hazel four husbands is her limit? Never mind; from what I heard, your Miss Callahan did.”
Niall lost his grin even as Sam’s widened. “My Miss Callahan?”
“Hearing things I shouldn’t isn’t my only talent,” the store owner said, grabbing a thick brown envelope off the counter on his way to the storage room. “Speaking of eavesdropping, the two guys I found you have it down to an art, which is something you won’t see on any résumé from law academy graduates.” Sam exited the side door and turned down the narrow dirt lane toward Bottomless, his limp barely noticeable—but then, it was still early in the day. “I doubt you’ll find explosives expert, either, or scuba diver, parachutist, or sniper.”
“I need police officers,” Niall said dryly, “not men who can sneak into a foreign country and take down the government.”
Sam stopped in front of the first of five cabins he and Ezra rented to tourists. “Hey, you never know when a new mythical god might show up and start rearranging these mountains again. Wait; you got any magic in you like Duncan?”
“Nay,” Niall said, unable to stifle a shudder. “That would be my cousin’s blessing to shoulder.”
“Probably just as well,” Sam went on as he mounted the porch stairs. “I don’t know how Olivia puts up with all of Mac’s hocus-pocus, because personally, that shit gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
Sam was Olivia’s father, which she’d discovered four years ago when he’d hired on at Inglenook posing as a camp horse wrangler in hopes of saving his daughter from her ex-in-laws, only to then end up trying to stop her from marrying a . . . man who had the audacity to move mountains.
Sam threw open the cabin door. “Well, here’s your new police station and jail,” he said, gesturing inside. “Or rather, your station and interrogation room, since the council said they didn’t want the liability of a jail.” He slapped the envelope he was holding against Niall’s chest. “And if you’re even half as smart as I think you are, these two men will be your first and second officers.”
Niall grasped the envelope and stepped inside. “My first officer is right now out patrolling the town,” he said as he looked around the small rental cabin, noticing that instead of a table and couch there were only two desks, a bookcase, and an ancient woodstove in the corner. There was still a kitchen area against the back wall of the front room, but the rugged-looking wooden door with bars set into a windowless opening leading into the bedroom was definitely new. To the right was a regular pine door that he could see opened into a bathroom.
“But unlike Shep,” Sam said with a chuckle, “my guys have opposable thumbs and can use a cell phone, shoot a gun, and blow up stuff.”
“But can they run a man to ground on a moonless night, swim the length of Bottomless without getting winded, and track scent through any weather?”
“With their eyes closed.”
Niall tossed the envelope onto the larger of the desks and folded his arms over his chest as he faced Sam. “Why are two highly trained warriors wanting to come play policeman in the Maine woods?”
“One of the men’s names is Shep?”
Sam nodded. “Short for Jayme Sheppard. So you’re probably going to want to change your dog’s name.”
“Or I can call the man Jayme.”
“You could if you’re real fast at ducking,” Sam said, walking into the back room. “He’s been known to answer to Jake, but as a heads-up, I heard the bastard once shoved a man off a bridge for calling him an asshole.” Sam swept an arm around the small room when Niall stepped into the doorway and saw it held only a narrow cot. “So, what do you think?” Sam asked. “This would hold Logan Kent, wouldn’t it?”
Niall also noticed that instead of pine paneling, the walls had been refinished with solid oak boards and that iron bars had been put on the two windows. “Jack Stone has a private office, two holding cells, a full-time secretary, and a town-issued snowmobile, ATV, and boat.”
“I’ve seen Pine Creek’s police station,” Sam said, “although I haven’t seen the cells up close and personal like I heard you have. This is the best we could come up with until the townspeople can vote on where to put the new safety building. Duncan’s working on getting you a snowmobile and ATV, and Dad suggested you use one of our rental boats for now.”
Niall moved aside when Sam headed back out to the front room.
“Titus offered to buy any equipment you needed,” the storekeeper continued, “but Duncan and Mac agree that if the two towns want law enforcement, they need to have a vested interest.” He picked up the envelope and handed it to Niall again. “Back in the twelfth century, did lairds have to wrestle town elders for a decent operating budget?”
Hell, he hated the idea of having to ask for money every time he wanted to purchase something for the department. “Nay. As long as my decisions benefited the clan, no one questioned them.” Niall looked down at the envelope he was holding. “Does either Cole or Jake have any experience dealing with budgets and councilmen?”
Sam snorted and headed outside. “They’re more inclined to hold a knife to someone’s throat to get what they want.” He stopped on the porch, his eyes turning as direct as his tone. “You need information on anything or anyone from anywhere in the world, I’m your man, but you’re on your own when it comes to the town council. It took a year for them to let us put in gas pumps to service boaters, and then it only happened when one of the councilmen got tired of lugging cans of fuel to his new cabin cruiser.”
Sam suddenly looked toward the Trading Post when someone called his name, and Niall stepped onto the porch to see Peg running down the lane. “What’s wrong?” Niall asked when he saw her expression.
“Maybe nothing,” Peg said in a winded rush, grabbing the handrail when she reached the steps. “But Hazel’s worried because her daughter isn’t answering her cell phone. Birch apparently went out to check on a young girl who might be in trouble, and now I’m worried, too, because Hazel said the girl’s name was Misty.” She looked at Sam. “The only Misty I know who’s in her teens is Ike Vaughn’s daughter.”
Sam nodded, the look in his eyes further alarming Niall. “Last time I saw Misty was about a month ago when she came in the store with her mother.”
Niall stiffened. “What am I hearing in your tone, Waters?”
“What you’re hearing is that Ike Vaughn is a self-righteous, fire-and-brimstone-spewing bastard.”
“He’s more fanatic than those people protesting the colony,” Peg added. “In fact, I heard they asked Ike to leave when he suggested that instead of standing around holding signs, maybe it was time they took action against the devil-worshippers.”
Niall felt the hairs stir on his neck. “And ye say Hazel believes Birch drove out to the Vaughns’ house?”
Peg nodded. “She said a girl came to the shelter this morning and told Birch she was worried because Misty hadn’t been at school in over a week and missed all her final exams.” Peg hugged her belly protectively. “Apparently Misty confided to her friend that she’s pregnant and was afraid of what her father would do when he found out.”
Niall slapped the envelope against Sam’s chest and headed down the steps, but stopped at the bottom. “Call your men and tell them to be here by the end of the week.”
Sam shot him a grin. “Actually, they’re arriving tonight.”
Niall looked at him for several heartbeats before giving a nod, then took Peg’s arm and started up the road, shortening his stride to match hers. “How far to the Vaughns’ and how do I get there?”
“They live on the back side of Bent Mountain,” she said, gesturing toward the mountain crowding the town up against the Bottomless Sea. “The Vaughn homestead is only about six miles away as the crow flies, but twenty by road. You head toward Turtleback and take a right just this side of the first bridge, then keep bearing right at every fork in the road after that. It’s been forever since I’ve been out there, so Ike may have finally built a bridge over the brook about a mile from his house. If not, a four-wheel-drive can make it across.”
Niall stopped when they reached the side door of the Trading Post. “Can ye give Hazel a ride home? And tell her not to worry,” he added when Peg nodded. “I’ll bring her daughter back safe and sound.”
Peg grabbed his sleeve when he turned to leave. “Um, you do know that if you shoot anyone, you’re going to be filling out paperwork for weeks, don’t you?”
Okay then; apparently Duncan had been voicing his doubts about giving his ancestor a badge and gun out loud to his wife. Niall reached inside his jacket and pulled his gun out of its holster, slipped out the magazine, grabbed Peg’s wrist, and set the empty pistol and ammunition into her hand. “There’s no bullet in the chamber. And do me a favor and tell my cousin that he’s starting to piss me off.”
Peg hugged the large-caliber weapon to her bosom. “The moment I see him,” she promised, only to quickly sober. “Sally Vaughn does whatever her husband tells her, and I’m afraid for her, too, if you end up bringing their daughter back with you.”
Niall nodded. “Are there any other children besides the girl? What does Vaughn do for a living?”
“No, they only had Misty. And like most everyone in these parts who’s not catering to tourists, Ike’s a woodsman. Think Logan Kent thirty years ago; compact, strong, nimble in the woods. But unlike Logan, Ike has a short fuse when he feels someone’s questioning his authority. Wait,” Peg said, catching his sleeve again when he turned away. “Let me call Duncan and have him meet you there.” She went back to clutching the pistol with both hands, glancing around to make sure no one was nearby as she moved closer. “The magic might come in handy.”
“Nay,” Niall said as he finally strode off. “Jack Stone warned me that incident reports don’t have a code for magical apprehension.”
“Dammit, Niall, at least take your gun.”
He waved without looking back. “I’ve managed to survive this long without it,” he said, grinning when he heard Peg mutter a curse in good old understandable English just as he rounded the building.
Having developed the mysterious habit of suddenly appearing whenever Niall’s mood turned dark, Shep came tearing down the road and jumped in the truck the moment Niall opened the door. “We’re off to save our pretty neighbor,” he said as he climbed in behind the wheel. “And if we can find a reason to arrest Ike Vaughn and throw him in the jail we now have,” he continued as he checked for traffic and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the main road, “then maybe the lass will quit spitting at us long enough for me to ask her out to dinner and for you to finally give Mimi that bone I saw ye bury down on the beach.”
Niall flipped on his sirens and lights when a group of tourists started into the crosswalk,
then wove through traffic as cars pulled to the edges of the road and stopped. “Well, that’s certainly handy when I’m in a hurry,” he murmured, pressing on the accelerator once he passed the spot where the old railroad bed crossed at the end of the town proper. “Or we may finally win over the ladies,” he told Shep, his mood darkening again, “if the only reason Birch isn’t answering her phone is that she’s out of range.”
Because if Vaughn had caught her leaving with Misty and there’d been any sort of altercation beyond a verbal spewing of fire and brimstone, the bastard would be seeing the inside of a hospital instead of Spellbound Falls’ new holding cell.
Aye, it would appear Birch was developing a bad habit of her own, in that she kept blindly rushing to women’s rescue—armed with nothing more than a tiny canister of bear spray, no less—which had Niall thinking that Hazel wasn’t the only Callahan who might be needing a keeper.
Chapter Five
Niall stopped his truck next to the familiar red compact car half-driven into the bushes, his hopes dashed that the absence of a bridge had been enough to deter Birch from her mission. But it was obvious the spitfire had simply waded across the fast-moving brook, which for her would be thigh-high in places. The only thing that kept him from roaring in frustration were the slip marks in the gravel on the opposite bank, indicating she hadn’t fallen and been swept downstream. That the tracks were dry, however, said he was behind her by at least an hour.
A lot could happen in an hour.
Hell, a confrontation could turn deadly in the blink of an eye.
Niall engaged the four-wheel-drive and edged his truck into the water, ignoring Shep’s whining as the dog stood on the passenger seat with his nose pressed against the windshield. They made it halfway across before the tires began fighting for purchase on the various-sized rocks, Shep giving a snarl when the truck lurched violently enough to send him tumbling over the console. “Will you relax,” Niall muttered, shoving the dog away and gunning the motor to make it up the opposite bank. “I’m not letting ye out to run ahead. We’ll go another half mile and make the rest of our way on foot,” he added, also ignoring the fact he’d developed the habit of talking to his dog.
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