by JL Terra
He knew of only one way to combat the issue. To eradicate the problem of his enemy. These relentless attacks and the steady poisoning of the world and everything in it.
Roy screeched.
Daire took a step back, reached between his shoulder blades under the collar of his jacket and pulled the sword free. “Don’t do this.”
Roy never even blinked. He never acknowledged Daire’s words. Daire swiped the knife up off the ground with his offhand. He held both out. Sword in one hand, knife in the other.
“Roy.” His name was a warning. A threat.
The young man ran at him. Determination—and something else—clouded his gaze. Until Daire wondered if he could see at all. He certainly never saw the short sword swipe down in an arc. Faster than Roy could react, even in this state.
Headed right for his neck.
Daire dragged the body into the woods and left Roy Halson under a pile of loose branches for animals to find. Any autopsy would likely reveal severe blood poisoning had altered his brain chemistry in a way that would have been irreversible. And untreatable. Dangerous for anyone he came into contact with. Even the medical examiner.
Daire looked down at the pile and sighed. He closed his eyes and prayed for forgiveness that another life had been taken by his hand. Because of the choices he had made. Because he had thought his enemy was dead once and for all.
Then he went to find Amelia.
Chapter 9
Daire tromped uphill through the woods. Following a deer trail, holding the phone to his ear. “You can hold off on digging into Roy Halson’s life.”
Remy said, “Oh, yeah?” Her voice distant, distracted.
“Yeah, but you can get me his next of kin.”
Silence. Then, “Uh…copy that.”
Daire waited for more of a reaction to hearing about a death but got nothing. Maybe she didn’t realize the implication of what he’d said. Or she wouldn’t until later when she checked her note and grasped what he’d asked for. Either way, he needed the information so he could pay a visit to Roy’s nearest and dearest. Make sure this was an isolated incident.
Daire climbed over a downed tree trunk and continued on up the deer path. “I also need sitreps on the other places you were watching for me.”
If the book had been taken from his New York apartment, or if its location had been exposed, that meant the other two were at risk of discovery also. Maybe they’d already been stolen.
“I’ll hit at least one before Monday morning’s meeting,” he said. The second book he could retrieve easily enough. The third might prove more difficult.
If he moved one book to a new location and hid it again, that meant the Druid would only be able to get two at most. If all three were obtained, it would be nothing short of disastrous. Was that the answer, then?
In the corner of his mind, a single thought bothered him. The possibility that all of this had happened just to get him to lead his enemy to the book. An attempt to get Daire to reveal its location.
It was a gamble he had to deal with—leave the books where they were and risk them being found, or move them and risk revealing their location to whoever was watching closely enough.
Remy said, “I’ll email you what I find out.”
Daire hung up. Fatigue weighed on him. His legs trembled as he walked. Only his will to find Amelia and know she was safe pushed him to search for where he thought she might be hiding.
A hundred feet from the entrance they had discovered together on a hike, Daire heard the howl of a wolf behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Had the animals already discovered Roy’s body?
“Amelia, it’s me.” He waited a second, ready to dash inside.
She emerged from the cave, blinking at the bright light outside. “Uncle Daire?” The sweetness of the hug was short lived.
“I have to take care of something. I know you have a guest with you, but I have to get back down the hill. I just wanted to make sure you were okay first.”
“Of course I am.” She grinned like she thought he was a little silly for worrying.
“Where is she?”
Amelia rolled her eyes and glanced back at the cave. “Bryn. You can come out.”
Daire barely spared the woman a glance. Dark hair. Baggy clothes. A haunted expression. “Can you walk her back to the house? I’ll meet you there.”
“You just came here to check on me?” Amelia chuckled, a gentle sound. “I’m honored.”
Daire shot her a look. “I saw the weather report.”
“So you’re the uncle,” the guest said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Polite. Professional. But underneath it, there was something in her voice. “I have to admit, you’re a lot younger than I imagined.”
Amelia said, “That’s because he only acts like an old fuddy-duddy.”
“I need to get going.”
Neither of them paid him any mind.
Daire sighed. “Meet me at the house, Amelia. Please.”
She gave an exaggerated bow. “Yes, my liege.”
The guest laughed, though the sound was strained. Daire ignored them both and headed back toward Roy’s body. Maybe he should’ve moved it farther from the house. Maybe he should’ve done a lot of things differently. But now wasn’t the time for regrets. This was the life Providence had asked him to live. He needed only to do the best he could with it.
Daire stopped at the threshold of the path and listened. A low shuffle to his left drew his attention.
“What do you hear?”
It wasn’t Amelia who had asked the question, but the guest. Daire looked at her, then at his niece. “You guys followed me?”
Amelia shrugged. “Safety in numbers.”
Daire glanced at Bryn and tried to assess if she’d be any good in a fight. She had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her wrinkled jeans and oversized shirt both looked to have been dragged through the brush, soaked by the rain and, in the last few hours, dried out. Whatever makeup she usually wore was long gone now. And if he didn’t know better, he’d say those were scars peeking out of the collar of her shirt.
There was definitely something about her that made him think more was hidden beneath the surface.
Daire lifted a hand and pointed in the direction of the house. “The two of you need to go.”
Amelia sighed. “You know I can help you.”
“I’ve not forgotten that fact. But you have a guest to see to.”
She glanced at Bryn. “See what I mean?” The sass was reminiscent of those teenage years, back when she’d laughed. Before the nanny had gone crazy. They’d come here to start over in a new place, determined to make new memories. Happy ones that didn’t involve bloodshed on his part.
Which was why she didn’t need to know about Roy.
Amelia wound her arm in the guest’s and they strode off together. Daire spent the next twenty minutes destroying the scent trail around the vicinity of the body. He made several new trails in order to completely confuse any animals who might approach Roy’s final resting place.
That was when he saw that the branches and foliage he’d covered the body with were disturbed.
Roy was gone.
Daire looked around. Had the wolves dragged the young man off already? He tried to assess what’d happened from what was left but didn’t get much of an idea. Dragged off. Or he’d stood up and walked away. Who knew? Except one theory was probable, and the other was impossible. Keep telling yourself that. It’s clearly working.
Back at the house, he found the two women clearing the floor and righting the furniture. He looked around. The place was a mess. “Can I call someone to help with the cleaning?”
The guest—Bryn—didn’t pause in her attempt to gather all the napkins from the floor.
Amelia shot him a look. “Everyone in town has their own cleanup to do. We don’t need to throw money at this. Just a little elbow grease and some time, and we’ll have it all organized.”
Daire shrugged. “M
aybe while we’re cleaning you can tell me what happened last night that drove you from the house.”
Amelia glanced at Bryn, who straightened. Eyes wide.
His niece said, “Just some problems with slamming doors ending up locked is all.”
Bryn went back to cleaning up the floor.
Would she give him the real story later? He moved closer to the stranger. “How long are you planning to stay here?”
“Oh.” She blinked up at him. Maybe five foot six, which put her at least another six inches shorter than he was. “Uh, maybe a few days?”
He realized she was older than he’d initially thought. Probably in her late twenties, though it was difficult for him to tell. Older than Amelia at least. Where had she come from?
“Ouch.” Amelia hissed out a breath and sucked on her right index finger. Mumbling around the digit in her mouth, she said, “Cut my finger.”
Daire strode over before Bryn could get there. “Let’s get you to the kitchen and get you a rag.”
She nodded and let him lead her from the room. Bryn started to follow them, but Daire shook his head. “I’ve got it. Just a little cut. She’ll be fine.”
Bryn nodded. A frown drew her dark blond brows together.
He said, “I can help Amelia with the cleanup if you’d like to go lie down in your room.”
Amelia leaned around his shoulder. “Yes, you should do that, Bryn. You had a rough night.”
The woman glanced between them. Finally, she said, “If that’s okay with the two of you.”
“Not a problem.” Daire closed the kitchen door in her face and turned to Amelia.
She set her hands on her hips. “That was rude. She’s my guest.”
“Let’s get you fixed up.”
“It’s just a little cut on my finger.”
Daire grabbed the first aid kit from above the fridge and flipped the lid onto the counter. Amelia rinsed her finger under cold water at the kitchen sink. He handed her a Band-Aid and the antiseptic cream.
“You’re not going to put them on for me?”
There had been a time in her life when he’d have done precisely that. When she’d been little, and he’d felt that pull to protect her. To take care of her. Now he knew better and stayed a few feet away from her while she covered the injury.
“That’ll teach me to try and pick up broken glass with my hands instead of the dustpan and broom.”
“You should be more careful.”
“You’re really going to pretend that you haven’t said squat about what you had to look at on the hill just now?”
He stared at her.
Amelia sighed.
He said, “I’d like to know how you ended up at the caves last night.”
“Maybe I want to keep it a secret. I learned that from you.”
“Amelia.”
“I told you, the wind shut the door and it was locked.”
“All the doors?”
“Okay,” Amelia said. “When you put it like that it sounds weird. But it’s what happened. The wind was crazy, and the rain was just as bad. Lightning hit the top of the house and we couldn’t get in, so we went to the caves for safety.”
“And Bryn?”
Amelia shrugged. “She got here the day before yesterday. Seemed pretty freaked out by the storm. Especially when the wind blew the front door open. She was walking around closing all the curtains so she couldn’t see out, and no one else could see in.”
“Like she thought someone was outside watching?” His enemy could have sent her here.
“I guess. Maybe something happened to her and she has PTSD or something. She saw a man when we were in the caves.” Amelia shrugged. “I didn’t see anything, but she was convinced.”
Daire frowned. Anything that could cause scars like the ones Bryn had on her neck would certainly be capable of giving a person lasting emotional issues. “I guess we won’t know unless she tells.”
And he would make sure she told them everything.
“You’re not going to ask Remy to find out who she is?”
Daire felt his eyebrows lift.
Amelia said, “What? It’s not like I don’t know what you do. Remy told me.”
“She did?” He might need to have a word with Remy. What exactly had she told Amelia?
“You find people. It doesn’t matter where in the world they are, or what’s happened, you rescue them.” She smiled. “The way you rescued me.”
That was an extreme oversimplification. But he could admit appreciation for Remy’s hand in what Amelia knew about him and the job he did for Ben. “You make me sound like a hero.” And wasn’t that as far from the truth as you could get.
“Be as humble as you want, but I know.” Amelia lifted her chin. She was about to hit him with something he wouldn’t like. “Remy’s been helping me get set up to take a couple of classes online.” She folded her arms again. “I want to get my business degree, and I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
Daire had wondered when this was going to happen. “I actually think going to school is a great idea.” Especially online, where she would have limited physical contact with people. “I’m happy for you.”
“Wow. That went better than I thought it would.”
Done with the first aid kit, they headed back to the living room. Amelia ran the vacuum over the rug while Daire swept the rest of the floor. Bryn wandered downstairs wearing a fresh pair of blue jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt. Her hair was wet and hung past her shoulders.
Something about her made him watch as she moved through the entryway into the living room. Was she a plant, sent here by his enemy? He almost laughed again but thought better of it. Was it worth digging into this woman’s life? He didn’t particularly enjoy unearthing secrets people preferred to leave buried. Chances were she’d likely not be here much longer before she moved on and went back to her life.
Her mouth twitched at the corners, as though amused with his study of her. The vacuum was switched off and she turned to Amelia. “Anything I can do to help?”
Amelia pressed the button to retract the cord. “I need to check the bathrooms, but I think we’re pretty much done here. You didn’t want to take a nap?”
“No, sorry I took so much time in the bathroom.”
“You’re entitled to shower.” Amelia grinned. “It’s part of the service here.”
“I can help you with the bathrooms if you want.”
“Nonsense,” Amelia said. “You’re a guest. I wouldn’t dream of imposing on your vacation time.”
Daire studied the woman as he swept. Was it the scars? They indicated she’d had a bad experience. Maybe his enemy had tortured her into working for him. It had to be connected somehow. Nothing else made sense.
Daire’s phone rang. He excused himself and went into the kitchen to answer it.
It was Remy. “You’ve got a problem.”
He stared out the window. “One of the sites I asked you to check?”
“No. Amelia’s last booking email.”
“You looked up this Bryn woman?”
“The email just came through. Delayed because of the storm. Well, and also because she didn’t prebook. I ran the name.” Remy ran background checks on all of Amelia’s guests.
Daire said, “A fake name?” He’d already figured that much out.
“She also paid cash and listed a PO Box as her home address.”
“So she’s flying under the radar,” he said. “Who is she really?”
“That’s the problem. I have no idea.”
“You?”
Remy sighed. “Contrary to what you guys apparently believe, I’m actually not a miracle worker.”
“So keep looking. I would guess Bryn is her real first name.”
“It’s more common than you’d think. I’m running her photo from the surveillance camera, but it could take a while.”
“So you have nothing?”
“I didn’t say that.” Remy paused. “The on
ly ‘Bryn’ worth looking at further in any kind of Internet search is a former FBI agent. I didn’t find a picture, though. Yet.”
Daire turned toward the living room, but couldn’t see either of the two women. Was this Bryn a former fed? He’d pretended to be one often enough, he knew it wasn’t an easy job. He tried to decide if he could see her doing that kind of work. Maybe.
If she had, it’d broken her.
“The agent was on a case and suffered some kind of mental breakdown. Something about missing children, the article says. They never found them. And the agent wound up in a psychiatric facility because she couldn’t handle the stress of it.” Remy paused. “Which is understandable.”
“But is it the same Bryn?”
“That’s a good question—oh, I found a picture. The surveillance image matches the photo ID for Special Agent Bryn Johansen.”
Daire’s mind blanked. Johansen? That could not be a coincidence. It just plain couldn’t, because the Johansen family had been brought into this because of him. Because he’d allowed them to unknowingly obtain one of the books.
“Daire? You still there?
He scratched at his hairline. “You said a psychiatric hospital?”
“Private facility. Evidently, her husband has money. He paid up for a year, but Bryn checked herself out months ago and then just disappeared. There’s a link to a Facebook Live post where he’s asking her to come home, for her own safety. It’s all very touching.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I don’t trust anyone. But a woman who felt so much empathy she couldn’t wall herself off from missing children? That I understand.”
It would have broken anyone. But an escaped mental patient? His day had been weird enough. Like he needed this as well?
“What are you going to—”
Bang.
One of the women screamed. Daire strode to the hall, where Amelia met him. “What?” He touched her shoulder. The side door was open, but no one was there.
A swatch of sun cut a path along the hall rug. Warm air rolled in on a breeze.
