He hasn’t raced in a year. Siobhán assumed Séamus stopped racing in order to help out at the bistro or because Bridie wanted children. But what if it was another reason altogether? Soon Billy’s voice, and Niall’s, and even Macdara’s joined the other ones in her head.
He came out of nowhere. Speeding, heading straight for me. I swerved.
There wasn’t any evidence of any other car at the scene.
Billy didn’t cause the accident.
There isn’t any video.
The killer doesn’t know that.
It’s usually the spouse.
Séamus hadn’t ridden his bike competitively since her parents’ accident. There were eleven trophies because he hadn’t entered the race this year. He was the one who was supposed to have changed the locks on their back door. He would have kept a key, and that’s how he left the threatening note. And, of course, he was in the pub with Niall and James that night.
One by one, clues fell into place with a sickening click.
Niall wasn’t really working at the cycle shop. He wasn’t just blackmailing Bridie; he was blackmailing Séamus. And not for an affair. Something much, much worse. Siobhán didn’t want it to be true, but once the dreadful thought hit, it lodged inside her, and she knew she was right. There was a weight to the truth, a sinking heft that could not be denied. Séamus probably darted out in front of Billy, causing him to swerve into her parents. And Niall knew it. Séamus Sheedy caused the accident, not Billy Murphy.
Memories continued to unravel as Siobhán’s heart hammered in her chest. She remembered how tortured Séamus seemed during the days after the accident. How he was at the bistro every day helping out. And now she knew why. The guilt. The guilt had been eating him alive. It was an accident. But he’d caused it, and he let Billy Murphy take the blame for it.
Niall probably realized that if he had gone to the guards with Billy’s story it would have been his brother’s word against one of the most respected men in town. He’d need proof. So he made up a video, and used it to try and coerce Séamus, get some money out of the deal. And turned Séamus into a real killer.
Bridie hadn’t been lying about her alibi. Séamus had lied about his. He’d either forgotten that Bridie had gone to her sister’s that night or he never thought Siobhán would check into it. And it was no accident that he had Ciarán with him right now. Ciarán was the bait to lure her in. And now Ciarán was in danger.
She had to play it safe. If she could get into the shed, maybe she could find a weapon. Something. Anything.
She crept around to the back of the shed. There were no gaps in the wood. No window. Nothing. He’d made sure the shed was a fortress. No doubt Niall’s overnight bag was inside.
She crouched again and this time hurried back to the shop. She was soaking wet. She had to get inside and get Ciarán. She would play dumb, act as if she was happy to see them both. Laugh about how she’d got caught in the rain with no umbrella. Tell Séamus that Macdara was convinced Mike Granger was the murderer. She’d say anything she had to to get Ciarán out safe.
She was about to hurry around to the front when she spied the back door. A brick was propping it open. Should she come in the back? Sneak up on Séamus? Why had he propped the back door open? Should she take the brick out? She hesitated, not wanting to make the wrong move.
Easy, Siobhán. Go around front. You don’t want to alert him. She crept around the side, reached the front, and opened the door. A smile was plastered on her face even before the bell jingled.
“Hello,” she called, praying she sounded normal. “How ya?” Ciarán and Séamus were still on the floor and appeared to be working on a bicycle frame.
“There she is,” Séamus said as if he’d been expecting her. He stood and hauled Ciarán up with him. He stood in front of Ciarán as if keeping them apart.
“I need Ciarán at home,” Siobhán said. Her voice was shaking. Pretending that Séamus wasn’t a killer, wasn’t the man who caused her parents’ death, was harder than she thought it would be. He stared at her, and in that moment she knew that he knew. Would ye look at that? Billy Murphy had been right. She was only safe if the killer thought she didn’t suspect him, and she hadn’t been able to pull it off.
Feck. Feck, feck, feck.
“Why don’t you go on home now,” Siobhán told Ciarán. Ciarán peeked around Séamus to look up at Siobhán. He frowned when he saw her face. It had been too long since she’d played poker. “It’s okay,” Siobhán said. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Why can’t I wait?” Ciarán said.
“We have grown-up talking to do,” Siobhán said.
“About what?” Ciarán asked.
“Go on, now,” Siobhán said.
“Let him wait,” Séamus said. He put his hand on Ciarán’s shoulder. Such a big hand. Such a small shoulder.
“Gráinne made apple pie,” Siobhán said. “Ciarán should get there before it’s gone.”
“I said he stays,” Séamus said.
“You don’t need him,” Siobhán said. “You have me.”
“I don’t trust you,” Séamus said. “Not anymore.”
“You could leave now. Hop on one of your bikes and go.”
“Go where?”
“Anywhere.”
“At my age? After all I’ve worked for? After all I’ve built?”
“Everyone knows we’re here. My siblings, Garda Flannery, everyone.”
“Garda Flannery is off to Cork to pick up your brother,” Séamus said. “As far as everyone else goes—‘Oh yes, they were here. Siobhán came and picked up Ciarán. Said she was taking him home for some apple pie. They never arrived? That’s horrible. I’ll join the search team.’”
Fright crept into Ciarán’s eyes, making them appear wider. His head snapped toward Séamus. “You’re the killer? Why?” Siobhán’s heart broke at the sound of Ciarán’s voice. Séamus had been like a second father to him. To them all.
“Why don’t you tell him, Siobhán?” Séamus said, taking a step toward her. “Let’s see what you’ve figured out.” Siobhán went to grab Ciarán’s hand, and Séamus blocked her. Had it been close to thirty minutes? She had to keep him talking.
“You were always darting around town on your racing bike. You caused the accident,” Siobhán said. “You probably pulled up alongside my parents’ car to tease them about how you were faster than them. But by the time you pulled in front, Billy Murphy was barreling through the curve. He swerved to miss you. And slammed into my parents instead.”
“What?” Ciarán cried out. “What?”
Séamus shook his head. “It was an accident. A terrible accident.”
Siobhán let her emotions get the best of her, and all thoughts of remaining neutral just to get him talking evaporated. More than anything, she wanted to know why. “You just left them there. How could you just leave them there?” Tears stung her eyes.
Séamus looked at her, and for a second she forgot he was a killer. She saw true pain reflected back at her. “They were gone. I checked. I would have stayed with them if they were alive. I would have called the medics. I swear to ye. It was too late. They were gone.”
“Billy wasn’t gone,” Siobhán said. “But you had no problem leaving him there, did ye?”
“He didn’t deserve my help. It was his fault. Just because he happened to swerve around me first doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have hit them anyway! He was drunk; I smelled it on him. He’s still the one to blame. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And Courtney?” Siobhán said. “You can’t say the same thing about her, can you?”
Séamus’s eyes seemed to turn into little black holes. He took another step toward Siobhán. “Where’s the video?” He held out his hand. “Who was the witness? Who got me on video? What exactly did they see? Or is it just audio? Did they get me teasing Billy?” Words fell from Séamus’s mouth like he was a madman. “Give it to me, and I won’t hurt either of ye. You have my word.”
Oh, God. Séamus doesn’t think she figured it out. He thinks she has the proof. “It’s not on me,” Siobhán said. “It’s in a safe place. If no harm comes to me or Ciarán or any of us, I’ll let you have it.”
“You should have brought it,” Séamus said. “I can’t trust you now.” Séamus turned, grabbed a bike, and threw it across the room. It clattered into a row of them, and they fell in a heap. Ciarán turned to run, but Séamus was too fast. He whirled around and snatched Ciarán up by the waist. Ciarán kicked and screamed to no avail.
“It’s okay,” Siobhán said, doing her best to calm Ciarán and the cold-blooded killer who was holding him. “Séamus, we’ll make this right. I’ll make this right. I’ll do anything. You know I would do anything to protect my family. Just like you were trying to protect yours, right? That’s why you had to kill Niall. I understand. I do.”
Séamus put Ciarán down but kept his hand on his shoulder. Ciarán was shaking from head to toe. It took every ounce of strength for Siobhán not to crumple to the ground. “Twenty thousand euro,” Séamus said. “And I would have paid it. I wasn’t going to hurt anyone else. I was going to pay the bastard. Then he had the nerve to go hinting to you that Billy didn’t cause the accident. I knew. As soon as I saw him cornering you in here. I knew I had to do something about him.”
“And you framed James for it. You knew he was passed out in the alley behind O’Rourke’s. You beat him up. You left drops of Niall’s blood on his clothing.”
“I’m sorry about that. I really am. But he was the perfect culprit. Blind drunk, fighting with Niall, right across the street from the salon—so it was easy enough for you to get the murder weapon.” He stopped, shook his head. “It was so perfect.”
Siobhán glanced at Séamus’s knuckles again. He grinned. “I wore gloves when I hit him,” he said. “I must admit, you made me nervous that day you wanted to have a look at my hand. Checking for bruises. Smart. But I wore gloves. But don’t worry; he was already passed out. He didn’t feel a thing.”
He did the next day, you evil man. She prayed the gardai were on their way. Lucky for her, he seemed to want to talk, unburden himself. “You followed Niall that night through town. Mike Granger saw you. Niall ran to our place. You struggled, and the scissors fell out. Would you have killed him otherwise?”
Séamus nodded. “I had me own knife. Hadn’t quite planned on doing it that night, but the stars aligned. Niall and James both langered, shouting in public. And when those scissors fell out, it was like it was meant to be. Don’t you see? I was meant to do it. What better weapon than one everyone in town has?”
“Except they weren’t the promotional scissors. They were the professional ones from the salon. And there were only three of them.”
“I heard. Which is why I had to do a bit of handiwork for Sheila so I could nick another pair. Switched them out with one of the freebies. She didn’t even notice.”
“Did you kill him in our yard or in the bistro?”
“Snuck up behind him in the yard. He was headed straight for your back door. For all I knew, he was going to break in and hurt one of yous.”
How kind of you to intervene. “Hurting us won’t help you now. Macdara will know it’s you. You’ve made mistakes.”
“Like what?” Séamus seemed genuinely curious. Siobhán just wanted to stall for time. If Gráinne had listened for once in her life, Macdara should be on his way here. She had to keep him talking.
“After you stabbed him in the back garden, you broke our buried jar to get the key and brought Niall inside. On your way out, you cleaned up the glass and returned with a replacement jar of Bridie’s. It wasn’t quite a match.”
“I didn’t count on you having such a good eye,” Séamus said. “But how does that prove I’m the killer?”
“Maybe Bridie will testify that one of her jars is missing.”
“You’re reaching.”
No, you eejit. I’m stalling. “Mary Murphy used Courtney’s computer to continue blackmailing you. Courtney read her message to ye and figured out you were the killer. She tried to warn me.”
“I should have known Courtney wouldn’t be so stupid as to send an e-mail like that from her own account. I feel bad about her, I really do.”
“What did the e-mail say?” Siobhán really was curious. Poor Ciarán was still shaking. She wished he could sneak away.
“She said she knew I caused the accident. That she’d seen the video. That soon everyone would know.”
God, what was Mary Murphy thinking? That Séamus would never know who sent it because she deleted it. Ah, it wasn’t fair to be so behind the times. Her own mam had never sent an e-mail in her life.
“Why did she have to go poking her nose in where it didn’t belong?” Séamus said, still going on about Courtney. “It wasn’t just the e-mail. I might have figured that Mary had used her computer. But she called for Bridie. And when I answered—oh, she tried to pretend everything was alright, but I could hear it. I could hear it in her voice. She knew I was the killer. I didn’t let on, though. As soon as I hung up, I was on me motorcycle, headed for her shop. Got there just in time. I was going out the back when you were coming in the front door. Had to walk my motorcycle halfway back to the shop so no one would hear it. God, that was close. You have to admit she was asking for it. Still, I feel bad. But not as bad as I’m going to feel bad about the two of you.” Séamus looked sadly at Ciarán.
Siobhán wanted to scream. She wanted to lunge and grab for Ciarán. It would never work; Séamus could overpower her in a second. All she could do was plead for their lives. There had to be a little bit of good left in Séamus. “It’s over. You’re a good man. I’ve known you all my life.”
“He’s not good. He’s a killer,” Ciarán cried.
“Please, Séamus. There is good in ye. I know there is. Please. You don’t have to kill anyone else.”
Séamus took a step forward. “If I quit now, it will have all been for nothing.”
“What’s it for now? Your reputation? Your family?” Should she tell him Bridie had an affair with Mike Granger, or would it enrage him even more?
“I’ve done too many things to protect myself and my family. If I stop now, it was all for nothing.”
“You wouldn’t get away with it. Everyone will figure it out. You can’t kill the whole town.”
Séamus took a step forward but kept his hand on Ciarán’s shoulder. How she wished Ciarán could turn and run! “I promise I’ll make it quick,” he said. “But I have to take you out to the shed.” He picked Ciarán up again. Ciarán screamed and kicked.
“No!” Siobhán yelled. She held up her hands and stepped forward. “I’ve already mailed the video to the gardai station.”
“Liar.” Séamus dropped Ciarán with a thud and lunged for her. Siobhán stepped out of the way, and he fell into a bicycle. She grabbed Ciarán’s hand.
“Run,” she said. She pushed him toward the back door. “Hurry. Get the brick.” Ciarán scrambled down the hall with Siobhán on his heels. Ciarán easily slid between the gap in the door. Siobhán reached down to grab the brick. Suddenly she felt strong hands grab her hair and pull her back. Siobhán kicked at the brick, hoping Ciarán would pick it up. Séamus began to drag her down the hall, back into the shop. “Help!” she yelled as loud as she could. “Help!”
“There’s no one for miles,” Séamus said.
“There’s no video. Niall made it up. There’s no video.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not lying. There’s no video.”
Séamus maneuvered her to the bathroom door, just off the hallway. He shoved her into the little room. “Hand me your mobile or I’ll find it on ye myself,” Séamus said.
She dug in her pocket and handed him her phone. He whirled around and slammed the bathroom door shut, and she heard a key turn in the lock. Then she heard his footsteps down the hall as he called out for Ciarán.
She threw herself at the door and tried ope
ning it. It was locked. She kicked the door, threw her body against it, pounded on it. It didn’t budge. There weren’t any windows to crawl out of. She scanned the bathroom for something, anything. The lid to the toilet tank. It was the only thing she could think of. She removed it, held it in front of her, and backed up as far as she could. Here goes nothing.
She held out the lid and charged the door using it like a battering ram. The door didn’t break all the way open, but she heard a screech and the splintering of wood. She backed up and rammed it again. This time a small crack split through the door. A small crack, but a crack. She rammed a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth, and then the crack widened enough to reach her hand through. She dropped the lid, then reached around and unlocked the knob.
Splinters bit into her arm, but her adrenaline was pumping so hard she could barely feel them. She threw open the door and ran out the front entrance. There was no sign of Séamus or Ciarán. Which way would Ciarán have gone? She picked the left side of the shop because it hugged a row of trees and Ciarán would have been attracted to the smallest space. Sure enough, he was huddled against the wall, gripping the brick in his hands and shivering something fierce. She threw her finger up to her mouth when he saw her to stop him from crying out. She grabbed him and sank to the ground, holding him.
“Where is he?” she whispered. And then they heard him.
Chapter 40
“Ciarán?” Séamus called out. “I’ve got your sister. Come out if you don’t want her hurt.” From the sounds of it, Séamus was on the other side of the shop. It wouldn’t take long for him to cross to this side. What was she going to do?
“What’s he talking about?” Ciarán said. “You’re right here.”
“Shhh.” She had to think quickly. So much for anyone coming to their rescue. Either her sisters couldn’t tell time or something was keeping them from getting here. The row of scooters flashed in her mind, followed by an image of the shiny gold keys hanging behind the register. She had to get to them.
Murder in an Irish Village Page 30
