Mark of the Loon (Gen Delacourt Mystery Book 1)

by Molly Greene

  She signed a clear happy new year with a mischievous smile, then handed him a cup of hot tea. Taegan had taught them the phrase as a surprise for Cole.

  The boy grinned and repeated the greeting, then set the mug down. He pulled a box from his pocket, wrapped in brown paper and tied with a twine bow.

  He held it out.

  She accepted it. “For me?”

  He bobbed his head yes. She sat and opened the gift. When the top was off and the tissue pulled back, she discovered the figure of a bird. Formed in the distinctive shape of a loon, the fragile jewel was made of filigreed gold and intertwined with the initials MB.

  Madison looked up. “It’s amazing, Tae. But it’s much too precious,” she said. “It must have cost a fortune.”

  He handed her a card. In neat block printing he had written, Mallory gave this to me before she left. My instructions were to hold it for the next owner. She told me I would know who should have it, and she was right. Who better than you, with the same initials, who has been as wonderful to me as the one who used to love this bird? Now it is yours. She would approve. She wants you to have it. Happy new year.

  “But she gave it to you,” Madison said. “And you’ve kept it all this time. Won’t you miss having it to remind you?”

  He signed rapidly, but she was unable to follow, so he grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the counter.

  I won’t miss her. I see Mallory all the time.

  Madison looked at him squarely. “You see her in your mind?”

  Taegan laughed and shook his head no, then hooked his thumb toward the kitchen window. He spoke aloud, forming the words carefully. “In my dreams. She’s in the garden. She came back with Finn.”

  Madison blinked. “You mean you can feel her with you when you’re in her garden.”

  He shook his head again, then took up the pen and wrote.

  She has the gift. I have always felt her with me. Now when I dream, she talks to me. I can see her.

  “She–” Madison stopped. “I believe she spoke to me in a dream once, too.” They stared at each other for five beats before Madison broke the spell. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  Again he shook his head.

  Nothing to be frightened of. Not from her.

  Her heart pounded. “Are you saying there’s something I should be afraid of?”

  Taegan shrugged his shoulders and stared at the floor.

  “What?” She jiggled his arm.

  He shook his head, then wrote on the pad.

  I feel worry approaching. I think that’s why she came.

  “Explain what you mean when you say she has the gift. And if she has it, you must have it, too.”

  He took up the pen.

  I thought God left me when he took my ears, then my parents away. But he traded these for something else. Sometimes I see things that are going to happen. Mallory did, too. I asked her to return, and I think she found the way.

  “But why now–”

  Genevieve pushed through the door. They looked at her, and she studied the solemn pair, their heads bent together.

  She signed hello, then spoke aloud. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No.” Madison held out the box. “Taegan brought me a gift. It was Mallory’s.”

  Gen rolled over and lifted the filigreed bird from its nest. “It’s lovely,” she whispered. “It’s like it was pre-ordained, you and she with the same initials and all.”

  “Weird, isn’t it?” Madison murmured. “Spooky and wonderful all at once.”

  * * *

  Cole arrived in a flurry of excitement despite the weather, armed with flowers and chocolates and fresh crab he’d flown back on dry ice from the East Coast. Gen opened wine. The kitchen ramped up into a whirlwind of food and conversation as they caught up with one another’s activities over the past weeks.

  He was delighted with the girls’ progress. Impressed with Taegan’s tutoring, he urged them to both speak aloud and sign as much as they could. But, after an hour of coaching and practice, Cole and Taegan collapsed into laughter over one of Genevieve’s awkward gestures.

  Annoyed, Gen motioned to them both with a single middle finger. Cole reacted with an expression of mock shock and disbelief. Taegan begged for an explanation, knowing he had missed something, and Cole clarified her meaning and made him promise not to use it in public.

  At midnight, Madison and Cole were alone on the patio, bundled against the brisk air left by the storm. Cole’s arms felt natural around her.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against him.

  Gen yelled, “It’s midnight!” and followed with a symphony of clanging pots and pans.

  “Happy new year.”

  “Same to you, Cole.”

  Madison tipped her face up in the dark. His lips brushed hers, then returned. She felt the deep, long kiss all the way to her toes. When he pulled away and nuzzled her neck, she whispered.

  “I can’t think of a better way to begin.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When the doorbell rang, Gen had her head in the fridge, browsing leftovers for a midmorning snack. Madison had left fifteen minutes earlier, so she closed the door and followed Jack to the foyer.

  “Who is it?”

  No answer.

  Taegan wouldn’t hear her. She snickered at the gaffe and opened the door. But instead of Taegan O’Reilly’s warm friendliness, she was confronted by the smarmy face of Levi Velasco.

  Velasco looked shocked, but he recovered and pressed his lips into a tight line. “Well, well. Genevieve Delacourt. I should have paid attention to my suspicions.” His voice was sharp. “This explains a lot.”

  His Burberry trench covered slacks with a crease like a knife blade. He held driving gloves in his right hand and an umbrella in his left. He hooked the umbrella on his arm and began to slap the gloves against his palm.

  Gen’s throat tightened.

  She grappled with her fear and won, giving him innocent. “Why Levi, what a wonderful surprise.” She blew him a kiss. “But I don’t know what you mean.”

  The rhythmic smack of the gloves accelerated.

  “All right. I went behind you and contacted the buyer after the sale. I figured the developer could use help splitting the parcel. We became good friends. Who knew?”

  She batted her eyelashes.

  He snorted. “If I had known–” His face purpled. He ceased the glove-smacking and jammed them into a pocket. “Did you break your leg while you were falling all over yourself to stab me in the back?”

  “Levi–”

  “Do not speak my name, bitch.”

  Gen’s expression hardened. She switched tactics.

  “Okay, bullshit aside. You’re a manipulative thief. You planned to cheat the Blackburne estate for your own gain. You’ll be disbarred if that is ever made public.” She turned the chair. He thrust the umbrella between the wheel spokes, impeding her retreat.

  “You can’t prove anything,” he snarled. “But I can. You cheated me. You and your friend will pay.”

  “You have no recourse. We don’t owe you.”

  “You owe me, all right, you lying bitch. Two hundred grand, but that’s just for starters. This gig could have meant retirement for me, with what was to come.”

  “What do you mean?” She yanked at the umbrella, but her strength was no match for his. “You can’t pursue it. We did nothing illegal.”

  “You screwed me. That was wrong, and I will not allow it.” Velasco wrenched the umbrella from Gen’s grasp and raised it threateningly over his head. “From the looks of it, somebody else had it in for you, and I have a mind to finish the job. I’m gonna beat the living shit out of you right here.”

  Jack dove out from behind the wheelchair and snapped at Velasco’s fingers. He snarled as Velasco windmilled off the porch, then bit his leg and held on.

  Velasco feinted to the right and struck at Jack’s head, knocking the dog off his feet. Jack yelped, then scooted out of reach and ran circles a
round his attacker.

  Gen searched for something to use as a weapon. She grabbed an old iron sprinkler key hidden among the potted flowers on the porch, then rose in the chair and brandished the rod at Velasco.

  “Bring it,” she screamed.

  “Top o’ the mornin’ to you both.”

  Ryan Kavanaugh burst from the path leading to the back of the house, dressed in his minister’s garb. He stopped behind Gen with one hand on her shoulder. “I was on my way to visit Miss Genevieve. But there seems to be a misunderstanding. Can I help in any way?”

  Velasco froze mid-strike, his hand still raised. Ryan took the rod from Gen and leaned it against the house, then pushed her back into the seat. Jack crept to the wheelchair and vaulted into Gen’s lap.

  Velasco shook with fury.

  Genny tried to get a look at Ryan, but the angle was wrong. She turned back to stare down her attacker.

  Velasco dropped his hand and gaped at Kavanaugh, then whirled around and raced to his silver Audi A8. He wedged himself into the driver’s seat and ground the starter.

  Had a signal passed between the two men?

  “Shameful,” Ryan murmured.

  “I was defending myself.”

  “Not you,” the minister replied. “The gentleman. Treating a stunning woman and an exquisite car like a barbarian.”

  “That was no gentleman,” Genny whispered. “How lucky for me you came along right when you did,” she said. “Won’t you come in?”

  Jack slid from her lap and trotted, panting, into the house.

  Ryan trailed her into the living room. She eased herself out of the chair and onto the sofa. He placed a hand beneath her elbow as she lowered herself to the cushions.

  “Thank you,” she said. “For showing up in the nick of time.”

  “Who was that?” Ryan took a seat. “What did he want?”

  “From the looks of it, he wanted to beat me senseless.”

  “I caught that, too. Care to share why?”

  “I told you I was a lawyer.” She shifted her leg into a more comfortable position.

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Let’s just call him an irate client.”

  “Wouldn’t it be an American’s worst nightmare to be sued by a barrister?”

  “Greed makes some people fearless.”

  He watched her. “You appear startlingly unruffled.”

  “Oh, I’m like a duck,” Gen replied. “Calm on the surface and paddling like hell underneath. Am I allowed to say hell?”

  “Someone else would be saying worse. Can I get you something?”

  Gen sighed and picked at a cuticle. “I know it’s early, but whiskey would be great right now.” She looked up. “I’m not a good Christian.”

  “All paths lead to God.”

  “This path might be about to take a detour.”

  He went into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a glass. “If you tell me about it, I might be able to help.” He splashed some bourbon in the glass and handed it to her.

  She took a swallow. “Thanks. But I can’t explain. It’s not my story and it’s complicated. Client-attorney privilege. Confidentiality. You know.” She eyed him. “Reverend.”

  He returned to his seat and steepled his fingers in front of him. “I doubt that was a client accosting you on your friend’s front porch.”

  “And I highly doubt your presence was a coincidence. Why do I get the feeling you know more than you’re letting on? Like where we keep the alcohol.”

  They stared at each other.

  Finally, Ryan smiled and drawled in a heavy brogue, “Miss Delacourt. Are you accusing a man of the cloth of subterfuge?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t think you’re telling the whole story.”

  “I should never have said that. It’s come back to haunt me.”

  “There’s always truth in sarcasm. So they say.”

  He cleared his throat and regarded her. “I haven’t told you everything. I should have warned you about something, and I did not.”

  Gen bolted upright. “What?”

  “Taegan O’Reilly. I know he visits.”

  “Oh, please.” She slumped back among the pillows. “That’s just annoying. So what’s the warning? News flash, there’s a deaf boy roaming the hills?”

  “There’s more. We think he might be stealing from the neighborhood. Trinkets. Small amounts of money. We found a ski mask in his things. Taegan doesn’t ski.”

  “That kid is not a thief.” Gen massaged her temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “And Taegan isn’t the one wearing the mask.” She stabbed a finger toward him. “What’s your game? Is this a lame attempt to take the heat off yourself?”

  “We have reason to believe it’s true.”

  “Who the hell is ‘we?’” she bellowed.

  He stared at her.

  “Look, forget it,” she said. “I refuse to play. I’ve had enough of your cryptic remarks. If you’re not hiding something, my very expensive education was a complete waste.”

  She crossed her arms and fell silent.

  “This might be a good time to excuse myself.”

  “Exit stage left sounds more appropriate. You’ll understand if I don’t see you out.”

  “Of course. Perhaps you could tell Madison that I will visit another day?”

  “Look. I’m leaving soon,” Gen said. “This monstrosity is finally coming off, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked sad. “I mean, I’m happy for you, but I was looking forward to another chat.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Reverend Kavanaugh? I have a request.”

  “Anything,” he replied.

  “Stay away from Madison.” Gen’s tone was harsh. “Leave her alone. I don’t trust you. Do we understand each other?”

  He stood. “You mistake my motivations.” His face was somehow sad. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Genevieve.”

  “Do we have a deal?” She held out her palm, intending to shake on it. He took it tenderly and held her fingers in his own, then brushed his lips across the back of her hand.

  Ryan nodded once, then turned on his heel and was gone.

  * * *

  Genny punched speed dial and heard the office exchange ring through. Her assistant answered. “I need you to call the research guys and tell them to give me everything they can find on a Ryan Kavanaugh. Spelled K-a-v-a-n-a-u-g-h, I think. But they need to try alternate spellings. His current address is Sonoma County, California.

  “He’s a minister. Or so he says. I need background, priors, work history, family and friend connections. Social media stuff, networks, yada yada yada. He has an Irishy accent, so they may not find a U.S. birth certificate. I want to know everything about him. And fast.”

  * * *

  Madison wasn’t surprised to find Sloan Anderson deserted. Buyers and sellers disappeared after Thanksgiving and stayed busy until January, distracted by the responsibility of creating a memorable holiday. Then they needed time to recover from the gaiety.

  The end of the year was stressful enough with the pressures of being a dutiful son or daughter or mother or father or friend. Not many wished to add to the tension by moving during the jolly holly season. The only people caught in a December sale were those with a dire need to sell, or an escrow that had stretched on too long.

  Real estate agents followed suit and were also noticeably absent. They used the down time to take a breather from a career that stretched 24/7 through the rest of the year.

  Christopher Sloan was minding the store from his glass-walled office. He raised a hand in greeting when he caught sight of Madison walking toward her desk. She returned his wave.

  She had never spent more time than was necessary in the office, preferring to work from home. She’d been even more absent the past two months. It almost felt good to be back.

  This was going to be a great year. She could feel the excitement building. A buyer had call
ed, ready to look at property again. Two owners with active listings had left messages, begging to lower their prices so they could sell and get on with their lives.

  It was the power of New Year resolutions.

  People wanted to kick down roadblocks and move forward, like a bursting chrysalis that allowed the winged butterfly inside to emerge.

  She was feeling the pull, as well.

  The phone jangled and was answered by a familiar voice. Tyler Pope rose above his cube and glanced around the room. Madison threw him the peace sign.

  The kid was all right.

  Her desk was neat as a pin and crowned with a new calendar, courtesy of Axis Title Company. A couple of fat envelopes lay atop it, closing papers from an escrow that ground to a halt last week.

  She retrieved the files she needed, then booted the computer. Her cell phone rang. She fished in her bag and checked the display. Home. Gen must have remembered something she wanted from the store.

  “Wass up?”

  “You sitting down?” Gen asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Velasco was just here.”

  “Oh, my God!”

  “I blew it.” Gen’s voice was shaking. “I answered the door and he saw me. I’m sorry, Mad.”

  She squeezed her lids shut. “How bad is it?”

  “He knows.”

  Madison’s mind revved, considering the consequences. “Why did he show up there?”

  “We never got around to discussing the reason for his visit.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yep. The Rev dropped by, just in the nick of time.”

  Madison’s brow furrowed. “Why was Ryan there?”

  “He didn’t say,” Gen said. “Curious, eh? Too much of a coincidence for me. I told him so. He tried to pass off some excuse about warning us that Taegan was a thief. I told him it was bull.”

  “What should we do?”

  “About Velasco? Wait and see. We didn’t do anything wrong. He can’t move against you. The truth would come out and he’d be in deep doo-doo. But about Ryan–”

  The bell on the front door tinkled. A short, dark man in an expensive coat came in, slapping an envelope against his palm.