“Important?” Only three pairs? “It’s everything. Who had access to those scissors?”
“That’s just the thing.”
“What?”
“I think I know who took those scissors.”
And she’d waited this long? Siobhán curled her fist and warned herself to keep her temper in check. “Who?”
“Niall Murphy.”
Siobhán exhaled and thought of the colorful saying her da used to use. Well, feck me pink with a wide-wash brush. “Are you sure?”
“You know how he liked to lift things. He was the last client I had that day. When I heard he was killed with pink scissors, I knew those promies weren’t sharp enough to do the deed. So I checked on me other scissors. Sure enough, one was missing.”
“But you didn’t see Niall take them?”
“I just told you I didn’t even know they were gone until this morning.”
“So why do you think Niall took them?”
“Who else? He loved thieving. Courtney said she’d already thrown him out of her shop for knickin’ a few bobs.”
Siobhán thought of the necklace he’d been caught stealing from Courtney. Had Siobhán been thinking along the wrong lines all this time? Could Niall’s killing simply be revenge for being robbed? How many shopkeepers had he pissed off? Wasn’t it likely he was also stealing from the cycle shop? There was that bicycle propped near the porch at Mary Murphy’s house. Siobhán didn’t know much about racing bikes, but she bet the ones at the top of the line might be worth quite a bit. Did Séamus or Bridie catch him stealing? Is that what she walked in on that morning? And if that was the case, why had Bridie defended him? Why did she give his last check to Butler?
What if he’d stolen much, much more than a pair of scissors from someone? Someone like Mike Granger?
This wasn’t helping at all. She was guessing. Grasping at straws. And scissors.
So what if Niall had taken the murder weapon? What did that mean? Did he pull them on his murderer, and somehow they got the best of him? Used them against him? Was there a struggle to reach them first? If Niall hadn’t knicked the scissors, would he still be alive?
“Siobhán?” Macdara called out. He stood in the doorway. He and Siobhán locked eyes. He took in her dress, leaned against the door frame, and gave her a lazy smile. It was the sexiest he’d ever looked.
“Speak of the devil,” Sheila said. Macdara raised his eyebrow.
“We have news about the murder weapon,” Siobhán said. Macdara closed his eyes as if she’d just wounded him. When he opened them, the sexy look was long gone.
Chapter 34
Macdara turned to Sheila. “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
“Not at all,” Sheila said. She evaporated. So did everyone else on the patio. They were alone. Macdara stepped closer. He was dressed in lovely dark denims with a dark blue shirt that brought out his eyes. His hair had actually met a brush and looked soft to the touch. His face was so smooth she wanted to run her fingers along his jaw. And he looked absolutely furious with her. She’d never wanted him more in her life.
“I cannot believe you,” he said. “Or maybe it’s me I can’t believe.”
“I didn’t come here to investigate—”
“You’re full of it, O’Sullivan. Although I must say, the dress certainly tells a different story.” Siobhán never knew a single gaze could tell so many tales until that moment when Macdara raked his eyes over her with both appreciation and irritation.
“Pio dragged me out here. I was at the bar with Maria. Ask her yourself.”
“Maria?” Macdara’s head swiveled toward the entrance.
“And before you accuse me of making plans with both of ye, I didn’t know she was home. She wanted to surprise me.”
Macdara put his hands up. “It’s not a bother. I want you to have a good evening.” He stepped even closer. “Do you even know how?”
“Sheila said the scissors that killed Niall weren’t part of the promotional ones she gave away.”
Macdara threw up his hands. “What?”
“She ordered three other pairs for cutting hair. Much sharper pairs. And one of them went missing the night Niall was killed.”
“And she’s just saying something now?”
“She’s been on a bit of a bender, said she didn’t notice it until this morning.”
Macdara shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if there was no longer a point to looking good. “I’ll talk to Sheila,” he said. “When I’m back on duty. Because believe it or not, there is more to me than being a guard. I actually thought you knew that.”
“I do. But even friends talk about things, don’t they?”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” He met her gaze straight on.
“Sheila thinks Niall took the scissors himself.”
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“He was her last client. And you know as well as I do that Niall liked to nick things from shops. It got me thinking. What if that’s why he was killed? What if he stole something big from someone?”
“Am I supposed to be worked up about the scissors or the motive here?”
“Can’t you be worked up about both at the same time?”
“A few minutes ago when I saw you in that little black dress I was worked up about something else entirely,” Macdara said.
An unexpected confidence seized Siobhán, like a sudden gust of wind. She stepped up to Macdara, put her hands on his chest, and looked up at him. “I was looking forward to this too. A Friday night. A proper date.”
“Yet here we are—talking shop,” he said in a near whisper.
“Because the killer has just been narrowed down to whoever had access to the murder weapon the day before. And if Niall had the weapon on him, it might mean the murder wasn’t premeditated. Maybe he meant to kill someone, but whoever it was got to the scissors first.”
“Maybe someone he was fighting with that evening?”
Siobhán dropped her hands and stepped back. “It’s not James.”
“I’ll let you get back to Maria.”
“I don’t want to,” Siobhán said. “I’d rather get some air. With you.”
Macdara contemplated her for a long, lazy second. “You sure?”
“Just let me say good-bye.” She had to get out of here, and Macdara seemed to be in the same frame of mind. Maria, to Siobhán’s slight disappointment, didn’t put up a fuss when Siobhán said she was leaving. Before they were even out the door, Maria was on her mobile chattering and laughing—with someone from Dublin, no doubt.
Siobhán and Macdara walked without even discussing it and soon found they were headed to the abbey. Were they subconsciously going there to kiss like teenagers? The thought made her laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” It was true. Nothing was really funny. They stopped along the bridge over the creek. A few streetlamps shone, offering the night a bit of warmth. The priory framed the background, a solid reminder of the past. Macdara stopped here. Maybe he wasn’t going to make out with her after all.
“Why were you late?” Siobhán asked. “For our date,” she said without looking at him.
“James wanted to see me,” Macdara said.
“What?” This was the last thing she expected him to say. “Why?”
“I wasn’t going to talk shop tonight, Siobhán. And even if I was, that thought would have been zapped out of my mind the minute I saw you in your little black dress. But now you’ve started it. Don’t forget that.”
“Why did James want to see you?”
Macdara turned to her, and to her surprise he grabbed her hands and held on to them. “Did someone leave you a threatening note?”
Shite. James and his big mouth. Didn’t he see she was trying to help him? Siobhán pulled away, dug the note out of her handbag, and handed it to him. He read it, then moved closer to the street lamp and read it again. A shadow fell across his face. When he
looked up at her, concern was stamped across his face. “This is evidence. You, of all people, are hiding evidence.”
“I was going to tell you tonight.” Was she?
“You aren’t trained. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
Siobhán pointed to the note. “This means I’m getting close.”
“Too close.”
“Listen to me, will ye? Even if Niall had the scissors on him, I still think the killing was planned.”
Macdara sighed. “If he had the scissors on him, then it’s more likely it was a tussle. The scissors dropped. Niall reached them first. If he hadn’t, we might have a different victim.”
Siobhán shook her head. “I don’t agree. The body was staged. And a single jab to the heart? That takes precision, not necessarily passion.”
“I’ve forgotten everything you said except for ‘passion,’” Macdara said.
“I think the killer had been following Niall around town. If Niall had the scissors on him, that meant that either the killer didn’t bring a weapon, or the minute the killer realized Niall had a sharp pair of scissors on him, he used it instead of his weapon.”
“Can’t be both.”
“I think the killer was forced into carrying it out early because he saw the perfect opportunity to frame my brother for the murder.”
“Because he witnessed Niall and James fighting?”
“Yes. But not necessarily that evening. Practically the entire town was in the bistro when the argument with Niall broke out.”
“That wasn’t just your brother. Most of us were arguing with Niall,” Macdara said.
“On the evening of the murder, I think the killer was following Niall. He chased him along the road behind our bistro. Perhaps they were the ones running around the back of Mike’s store as well. If they hadn’t been spotted, maybe Niall would have been killed there.”
“So the killer was trying to frame James, or he wasn’t?”
“I think the location was opportune. Maybe even the timing of the killing. But the deed itself? It was in the works.”
Macdara shook his head. “I know he’s your brother. But what if he did it, Siobhán? I have to consider it a likely possibility.”
“James was too drunk. Whoever killed Niall had a lot more motor control. And they were coherent enough to wipe away fingerprints and move the body.”
“Maybe he had help.”
“Help?” She didn’t like the way Macdara was looking at her. “What are you saying?”
“I have to look at all angles.” His words rang out like a confession. His meaning clicked into place.
“You mean me,” she said. “You think I helped James kill Niall.”
“I don’t want to think it. But I’m supposed to. Because that’s my job. And there are six of ye. And don’t tell me you don’t look out for each other.”
“I can’t believe this. I’m truly alone. This is why I have to keep digging.”
Macdara threw his hands up in the air. “Enough. Enough flying about town on your little scooter, riling everyone up. That’s my job. Stick to yours.”
“Stay in the kitchen, is that what you mean? Like the note says?”
“Are you saying I wrote that note?” Macdara said. “Who’s to say you didn’t write the note?” He was yelling. She’d never even heard him raise his voice before.
“Why would I write the note?” Siobhán demanded.
“To deflect suspicion off of James.”
“Maybe I could say the same thing about you,” Siobhán said. “Because you’re a guard, no one suspects you. That’s the perfect way to hide in plain sight.”
Macdara’s jaw dropped open. “Why would I kill Niall?”
“Because he was hurting me,” Siobhán blurted out. The meaning behind the statement hung between them as they stared at each other. Macdara looked away first.
“I’m a guard. Our job is to protect our citizens, not murder them. And if I was doing it to keep Niall from hurting you, I certainly wouldn’t have left his body in the back of your bistro.”
That shut her up. He had a point there. The date was officially ruined. Accusing each other of murder was a definite romance killer. She might as well destroy the rest of it. “Did James tell you anything else?”
Macdara’s eyebrow shot up. “Like what?”
“I didn’t visit just James that day. I saw Billy Murphy as well.”
Macdara cursed. “I knew there was something when I picked you up. I could tell.” He reached out and took Siobhán’s hand. “What did he say?”
“He stuck to Niall’s story. Said someone else caused the accident. But he doesn’t know if there really is a video, and he wouldn’t tell me who.”
“Because he’s lying!”
“I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’m not Billy’s biggest fan either. But he sounded sincere.”
Macdara shook his head. “I’m telling you he and Niall made this story up. He’s sticking to it because it’s scripted. If there was another car involved in that accident, there would have been evidence. And I don’t mean a video or a witness. I mean physical evidence on the ground. Tire marks, paint chips, something. Anything.”
“But he even admitted he was drunk.”
“You’re saying that helps his case? It proves what I’m saying.”
“I’m telling you I believed that he believed someone else caused the accident.”
“So who was it? If someone else caused the accident, why wouldn’t he just tell us who?”
“He said without proof we wouldn’t believe him.”
“Damn right.”
“See? You’re proving his theory.”
Macdara touched Siobhán’s arm. “When I arrived at the scene, Billy wasn’t knocked out. He was talking. Kept saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ ”
Siobhán shook her head. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“I don’t want to tell you. But I hate the fact that he’s pulling this shite. You cannot believe him.”
Siobhán chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to upset Macdara more than he already was. “Even if he’s lying, he knows something.”
“What?”
“The murderer has to be the other person Niall was trying to extort for twenty thousand pounds. Whatever the reason. I think Billy knows who that person is.”
“Maybe I can use that,” Macdara said.
“How?”
“Pay him a visit. Threaten to charge him with interfering with an investigation, then offer to drop it if he tells me.”
“It’s worth a try.”
Macdara smiled. “Imagine. It’s almost like I’m a trained guard.”
“When can you see him?”
“I would go right now if I could. Believe it or not, I want to solve this case just as much as you do.”
“I believe you. And I never thought you killed Niall. I’m sorry.” She wanted to reach out and touch him again, but her confidence was gone.
Macdara looked out toward the abbey. “I’ll go tomorrow.”
“You carefully checked Niall’s room at his mam’s, right?”
“Yes,” Macdara said. “Why?”
“Did you ever find a smartphone associated with Niall or Billy?”
“No. And before you ask—yes, we’re aware that Niall probably had one on him and the killer probably took it.”
“And why would the killer do that? Unless they thought Niall had some kind of video on his phone?”
“Maybe it was someone he had business dealings with and they wanted to erase the texts or phone calls.”
“So why is my brother still sitting in jail?”
“Because without the phone, we don’t have anything but wild theories.”
“We have to find it. We have to know once and for all whether or not there’s a video.”
“We’re on it,” Macdara said. “We’ve been on it.”
“You’ll be busy with Billy. I cou
ld check around—”
“No.” Macdara stepped closer. “You have to stop. Promise me.”
“But . . .”
“Promise.”
“Fine.” She could tell he was serious. She needed him on her side.
Macdara exhaled. “I’ll see what I can get out of him, and I’ll look for the phone. You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
“Are we done talking business? For tonight?” He was looking at her face, her lips. Was he thinking about what it would be like for them to kiss? She was. She’d been thinking about it for a long, long time. Ever since that day a year ago when he’d crushed her to his chest. She nodded. He stepped closer. She closed her eyes. A few seconds later, she felt his lips on hers, softly. They kissed without any other parts of their bodies touching—a wise move, considering that the feel of his lips alone was enough to set every part of her alive with electricity. He ended the kiss, and she opened her eyes. They stared at each other for a while.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that,” Macdara said.
A little bit of her confidence crept back. “So why did you stop?”
“Because I don’t just want you. I want you.” He meant the whole package. Marriage? A family? Did she want that too? She clasped her hands, almost in prayer, and brought them up to her mouth. “I know,” Macdara said. “This isn’t the right time. You’re going through too much. You’re young. You’re in pain. There are a million reasons I should stay away from you, Siobhán O’Sullivan, but I don’t want to. You have no idea how much I want you. You don’t even know how amazing you are. I’ve literally watched you grow into this unbelievable human being this past year. I know you’re a smart and independent woman, but at the same time, I want to take care of you, and the young ones, and everything that entails. I’m going to solve this case. And then I’m going to ask you out again. But don’t say yes if you aren’t going to be sticking around. Because I am. And I know what I want. I’ve known for a very long time.”
“I feel—,” Siobhán started to say.
Macdara put his finger over her mouth. “We solve the case first. We sort this out second. Alright?” She nodded. Anything else, even a single utterance, would likely break her open. And now she had one more desperate reason for wanting to solve this case. Macdara held out his hand. “I’ll walk ye home.” He laced his fingers through hers as they headed for town.
Murder in an Irish Village Page 26
