by Zara Keane
Chapter Thirty-Nine
THERE WAS A COLLECTIVE GASP. Olivia’s world revolved at lightning speed. Her parents and the others faded into the background of her consciousness, leaving Patricia in the spotlight. “You killed Aidan? Why would you kill your own son?”
Tears ran down the grooves of Patricia’s wrinkled face. “He was going to leave me. Don’t you understand? He was going to leave me all alone.”
“What happened?” Olivia demanded. “Tell us everything.”
The old woman took a deep breath and began her tale. “I was aware Aidan was in some sort of trouble, but he never confided in me. He’d always been on the reckless side. I’d hoped marriage to you would calm him. For a while, it worked. Then everything started to fall apart. Over the past year, he’s been acting shifty, his behavior moody and erratic. The gnomes turned from a hobby into an obsession.” She toed a piece of broken pottery and gave a bitter laugh. “It was bad before you separated and grew much worse after. I don’t know how he managed to keep up appearances at work and on the town council.”
“What happened on the night he died?”
Underneath the thick layer of makeup, Patricia’s skin was gray-tinged and waxy. Without bothering to wipe the tears from her face, she shook a cigarette free from her pack and lit up. “I found a packed suitcase in his room,” she said between shaky puffs. “I wasn’t in the habit of rooting through my son’s things, but he’d behaved strangely over dinner, and he hadn’t said a word about going away. So I peeked inside. I found a plane ticket to Singapore for a person named William Brent plus a significant quantity of cash.”
“You confronted him?”
“Yes.” Patricia took a deep drag. “He was playing with one of those damn gnomes in his office and had a stack of banknotes on the desk. I showed him the plane ticket and demanded to know what was going on. He said he was leaving and wouldn’t be back. He’d gotten into a spot of bother with an investor in the shopping center project. He’d hoped he could fix the problem, but had failed. Since Bernard Byrne did a runner with money from the project, a journalist had been sniffing around, digging for dirt. Plus a bunch of Dublin gangsters were breathing down his neck.” She broke into an hysterical laugh. “It all sounded absurd, just like one of the tall tales he told as a little boy.”
“How did this conversation lead to murder?”
Another cigarette puff, followed by a rattling cough so violent Olivia thought her former mother-in-law would collapse. When Patricia recovered, she drew her shoulders back and regarded the assembled company with an air of defiance. “It was a moment of madness. I couldn’t believe my son would abandon me, especially when he knew I was ill.”
“You’re sick? What’s wrong with you?”
“Lung cancer.” Patricia gave a wan smile. “You were right to nag me about these cigarettes, but there’s no point in stopping now.” She took a last drag before discarding the butt on the ground. “I suppose I lost my mind. I picked up the gnome and hit him. I hit him again, and again, and again. I felt detached from my body, as if someone else was doing the hitting and I was merely looking down on the action from above. Afterward, I went to bed, had an excellent night’s sleep, and phoned the police in the morning.”
“Why were you willing to let Jonas take the blame?”
Patricia shrugged. “He took you away from Aidan. If you’d stayed, none of this would have happened.”
Olivia recoiled from the older woman’s hateful words, but soon pulled herself together. She needed to focus and get as much information out of Patricia before she lawyered up. “Do you have the missing laptop?”
A tired half-smile. “Of course. It’s among the luggage that I left at my friend Colette’s house. I don’t use computers, but I know Aidan used it to type up a draft of the settlement proposal.”
“There’s one point I don’t understand. Why did Aidan offer me a settlement if he knew he was running away? Why bother gagging me if he wasn’t going to be around for the mayoral election?”
Patricia finally swiped the back of her hand across her damp face. “I believe he’d had an escape plan in place for some time, but the decision to leave that night came after the visit from the fellow on the motorcycle. When Aidan approached me about contributing money to your settlement, he said it was his way of making amends for how he’d treated you.”
Too little, too late. No amount of money could compensate for Aidan’s behavior. Olivia knew that now. The price she’d paid for “marrying money” had been extortionate.
Seán Mackey cleared his throat. “I’ll have to take you into custody, Mrs. Gant. And I’ll need statements from Mr. and Mrs. Dunne.”
Victoria clutched her throat. “Will we go to prison?”
“I don’t know. You might be able to strike a deal. We’re more interested in Ray Greer and his cohorts.” The police sergeant took Patricia’s arm. “Do you want to call someone before I caution you and take you to the station?”
The old woman shook her head. “Who can I call apart from my solicitor? My friends will be appalled at what I’ve done.”
No one could think of anything to say to that.
***
If Connelly didn’t stop smirking, Jonas was going to lose his temper. And losing his temper was the last thing he should do during a police interview.
“Olivia Gant is an attractive woman. Easy to see why a man would fall for her.” The detective leaned closer, treating Jonas and his solicitor to the unfiltered effect of halitosis. “Tell me, O’Mahony. Did she have sex with you as a reward for killing her husband?”
Karen McCormack, the solicitor, gave a little cough. He’d noticed she did this whenever Connelly posed an obnoxious question. It served as a warning to him and an irritation to the detective.
He started to respond but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Connelly whirled around just as Brian Glenn stuck his red head into the interrogation room.
“Message for you, sir. Looks important.”
Swearing, Connelly snatched the note from the young policeman. “It better be bloody important to justify interrupting an interview with a murder suspect.”
Brian winked at Jonas. “I think you’ll find it worth your time.”
While the detective read the note, his face underwent a series of transformations. “Is this your idea of a joke, Garda Glenn?”
“No joke, sir. Sergeant Mackey has a signed confession. Patricia Gant killed her son.”
Jonas’s jaw dropped. What the hell? Patricia Gant? It didn’t make sense.
Karen McCormack pushed back her chair. “If that’s the case, you no longer need to detain my client.”
Connelly’s mouth opened and closed, fishlike.
Jonas followed his solicitor to the door, still reeling from shock over the identity of the killer and the abrupt end to his incarceration. “Thanks for the real life experience of a murder interrogation, Detective Inspector. I’ll be sure to include your technique in my next book.”
The detective emitted a sound that might have been a moan.
Out in the police station lobby, Jonas scanned the crowd for Olivia. Instead, his gaze settled on a face he hadn’t expected to see.
Susanne looked radiant. Damn her. Couldn’t she have the good grace to look miserable? Or at least exude some sort of regret that she’d abandoned her son?
She stood when he approached. “It’s good to see you, Jonas. It’s been too long.”
“Your choice, not mine.” He wasn’t prepared to give her an inch.
“Yes, but Luca is better off with you. We both know that.”
For an instant, he saw a shadow of regret flicker across her delicate features. It was gone so fast he might have imagined it.
“I owe Barry for all he’s done for my case.”
“It’s the least we can do. You’re Luca’s father after all.”
And his sole acting parent. It wouldn’t do for him to go to prison, leaving Susanne in the uncomfortable position of possi
bly having to care for her own child, now would it?
He regarded his ex-girlfriend from the corner of his eye. She exuded an aura of contentment. Obviously, life as Mrs. Barry Brennan suited her. Perhaps in a few years, he’d be glad for her, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel entirely at peace with her just yet.
A short man of sixty with improbably dark hair emerged from a room with Sergeant Mackey. When the stranger spotted Jonas, he extended a hand. “Barry Brennan, Susanne’s husband. Pleased to meet you at last.”
Flummoxed, Jonas returned the handshake. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“In truth, I did very little. Olivia and Sergeant Mackey found the evidence, and the confession that came in consequence took us all by surprise.”
“Regardless, I owe you one.”
Brennan gave a small smile. “No, I owed you one. I think we’re even.” He looked over at his wife, who was darting impatient glances at the exit. “Enjoy your freedom, O’Mahony. Don’t waste your chance with that fine young woman.”
Then it was Seán Mackey’s turn to shake his hand. “We’re completing the paperwork for your release. Should be done in a few minutes. Once that’s done, you’re free to go.”
“Thanks, Mackey. I appreciate you following your instinct.”
“All part of the job.” The police sergeant nodded over his shoulder. “There are two people very keen to see you. Best not leave them waiting.”
In the doorframe of the Ballybeg Garda Station stood Olivia and Luca, hand in hand. They both broke into huge grins when they saw him.
He grabbed Luca up into his arms and swung him around. “I have missed you so much, little guy.”
“Put me down, Dad. You’re making me dizzy.”
Laughing, Jonas set his son back on his feet and turned to Olivia. She hurled herself into his arms. “I’m delighted to see you outside that horrible room.”
“Sounds like you’ve had quite an adventure this evening. How bad was it?”
She shuddered. “Horrendous. I’ve spent weeks hoping the police would find the murderer and let us get on with our lives. Never in my wildest imaginings did I picture Patricia as the killer.”
“Why did she do it?”
“The ‘Reader’s Digest’ condensed version: Aidan planned to do a runner and Patricia freaked. Given her state of health, Barry doubts she’ll stand trial.” She cuddled closer. “Trust me. The story is more convoluted than the cleverest of your plots.”
“You can fill me in on all the lurid details over wine. I think we deserve dinner at a fancy restaurant tonight. What do you think, Luca?”
“As long as they serve white food, I’m good.”
Jonas looked questioningly at Olivia.
“He’s on a white-food kick,” she explained. “It started this morning.”
He ruffled his son’s hair. “In that case let’s go find some white food.”
Putting an arm around each of his two favorite people, Jonas steered them out of the police station and down the steps to the car park.
“By the way, Dad,” Luca said with deceptive casualness, “I’ve asked Olivia to move in with us.”
“Have you, now?” He roared with laughter. “Cheeky sod. And what did she say?”
Olivia smiled up at him, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “She said yes.”
Epilogue
Five Months Later
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Hi Jill,
Hope life in the Big Smoke is treating you well. Are you managing to avoid Ratfink? Any hot men on the scene?
Life in Ballybeg is as crazy as ever. The Cottage Café is doing a roaring trade. I’ve hired a second girl to help out a couple of days a week. Ever since the murder investigation, Jonas’s book sales have soared. The television production team brought the filming of his new miniseries forward to cash in on his notoriety. People are ghoulish, aren’t they?
I’m guessing you’ve seen the newspapers. With Patricia dead, there won’t be a trial. Mum and Dad took this as their cue to clam up and deny all knowledge of Ray Greer and the money laundering shenanigans. If the police don’t manage to link the money back to Greer, my parents might very well be in the clear. Not sure how I feel about that. My emotions are all over the place.
In more positive news, Luca is doing great! He adores his teacher. We moved him permanently to the school in Cork City. In theory, keeping him at the local primary school for part of the week was a nice idea, but it wasn’t helping him integrate in either place. Despite the expense, the private school is the better choice.
Ooh, I have gossip! Remember Brian Glenn, the cute young policeman? Word is that he’s hooked up with Sharon MacCarthy, Ruairí’s little sister. A cop and a shoplifter? I’m curious to see how that relationship develops.
Speaking of gossip, I have some of my own! Yeah, I’m saving the best for last. Have you any plans for New Year’s Eve? If not, will you be my bridesmaid? Sorry for the short notice, but we decided spontaneously on Luca’s birthday. It won’t be a fancy affair. I’ve done the big white dress wedding once in my life, and I don’t need that again. Bridie Byrne is finally making an honest man of my grandfather, and we thought it would be a laugh to make it a double wedding. We’ve hired a reception room at Clonmore Castle Hotel. The café will provide the desserts, and the hotel kitchen will take care of the rest of the catering.
Let me know if you can make it. Fingers and toes crossed! Let’s make this the best wedding ever!
Love and Kisses from Ballybeg,
Olivia xx
—THE END—
•Thanks for reading Love and Leprechauns! I hope you enjoyed Jonas and Olivia's story.
•Want more Ballybeg? Love and Mistletoe is out now! It's a holiday novella featuring Brian and Sharon's romance. Turn the page to read an excerpt.
•The next full-length novel in the series is Love and Shamrocks. In this story, Sergeant Seán Mackey finally finds love. Turn the page to read the blurb.
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ROMANCING THE ALPHA: AN ACTION-ROMANCE BOXED SET
OUT 7 JULY 2015—$0.99 PRE-ORDER PRICE
A multi-author anthology of never-before-published action-adventure romance stories. Navy SEALs, treasure hunters, and space adventurers. Let the adrenaline flow!
***ZOE YORK, RUBY LIONSDRAKE, ZARA KEANE, ANNA HACKETT, EMBER CASEY, ANNA LOWE, SADIE HALLER, LYN BRITTAN, LYDIA ROWAN, A.J. VALE, LEIGH JAMES***
Zara's story is HER TREASURE HUNTER EX, the first book in the Ballybeg Bad Boy series.
ZaraKeane.com
Love and Mistletoe (Ballybeg, #4)
Out Now
Kissed by Christmas, Loved by New Year
Policeman Brian Glenn wants a promotion. Studying for a degree in criminology is the first step. When a member of Ballybeg’s most notorious family struts into his forensic psychology class, his hopes for a peaceful semester vanish. Sharon MacCarthy is the last woman he should get involved with, however hot and bothered she makes him get under his police uniform. Can he survive the semester without succumbing to her charms?
Sharon’s had a rough few months. She knows her future job prospects depend on finally finishing her degree. When she’s paired with her secret crush for the semester project, she sees a chance for happiness. Can she persuade Brian that there’s more to her than sequins, high heels, and a rap sheet?
Available Now on Kindle
Chapter One
Ballybeg, County Cork
, Ireland
Location: The MacCarthy Farm
Time: 21:06
THERE WERE MANY PLACES Garda Brian Glenn would rather spend his Saturday night. Dry places. Warm places. Places that didn’t stink of cow shite.
Wrinkling his nose, he hunched down behind a bush and squinted through his police-issue night vision binoculars. “They’ve finished unloading the car.”
Sergeant Seán Mackey shifted on the grass beside him, the sudden snap of a twig serving as a timely reminder to keep the volume down. “Are you sure about this?” His breath floated through the damp night air in smoke-like wisps. “Because if you’re not, we’re trespassing on private property. Not to mention freezing our balls off. Trust you to go and pick the first cold night in September to go on a flaming stakeout.”
Brian lowered his binoculars and grinned through the dark at his partner and superior officer. “Speak for yourself. I had the good sense to wear thermals. Seriously, man. My intel is solid. The MacCarthys are definitely up to their old tricks. I overheard Sharon discussing it with Naomi Bekele in the pub. Brazen as brass.”
The police sergeant grumbled and tugged his hat lower, presumably to shield his ears from the harsh wind. His perfectly flat ears…Seán was film-star handsome with a deep Dublin baritone that made the women of Ballybeg swoon—a far cry from Brian’s sing-song Donegal lilt and sticky-out ears. If his new partner weren’t a decent bloke and a fine cop, he’d have resented him.
“Come on, Seán. Sure what else would we be doing this evening? At least a stakeout is more exciting than breaking up at fight at MacCarthy’s pub.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”
“This is the first interesting lead I’ve got on, well, anything in ages. Not much happens in Ballybeg.” And when it did, the local police weren’t left in charge for long. At the rate Brian’s career was going, he’d be stagnating in uniform until retirement. He needed something—anything—to impress the higher ups.
