Grim Tempest

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Grim Tempest Page 8

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Great.” Dad was back to rubbing his forehead. “Are you going to conduct your research here or at the library?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” I shifted on the chair. “I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but I’m not. There’s something going on. It started out of nowhere. I don’t think we can wait for it to end on its own. We don’t have that luxury.”

  “And what do you suggest we do?” Dad challenged. “Are you going to have an anti-rain dance on the back lawn?”

  “You jest, but I just might do that. I haven’t ruled out anything yet.”

  “I can tell it’s going to be a lovely couple of days,” Dad muttered, shifting his eyes to the open doorway at the sound of voices in the hallway. “Your brothers are coming. I suggest you keep your theory to yourself for the time being. We don’t want to add to this madness by getting them involved.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but for the time being I could get behind the sentiment. “Fine. If you make fun of me, though, all bets are off.”

  “I would expect nothing less.” Dad plastered a smile on his face as Cillian and Braden walked through the door. The smile slipped when he realized Mom trailed behind them, her arm linked through Redmond’s as they shared an animated conversation.

  “Lily,” Dad said quietly, forcing a welcoming smile. “I didn’t realize you were coming for dinner tonight.”

  “Oh, I thought Aisling would’ve told you.” Mom’s face remained placid. “I’m here to talk about flower selections for the wedding. Jerry invited me, although Aisling was there and didn’t object.”

  Dad shifted a pointed look in my direction. “Really?”

  “Hey, don’t give me grief,” I warned. “I’ve had a busy couple of days. Between fighting with Angelina and picking a wedding dress I can only keep so many details in my brain at any one time.”

  “You found a wedding dress?” Mom was clearly surprised. “I thought that would take you months.”

  “We plan to get married in June, so there’s no way it could’ve taken me months.”

  “You’re getting married in June?” Mom didn’t look happy with the development. She turned her cold eyes to Dad. “Did you know about this, Cormack?”

  “Yes.” Dad pursed his lips as he regarded Mom. “I don’t see what the big deal is. June is a fine month for a wedding.”

  “Yes, but it’s so soon.”

  I knew what she was really saying. If Griffin and I married in June that meant she was running out of time to change my mind about marrying him. She hadn’t given up, no matter how she pretended otherwise, and I could practically see the gears in her mind turning.

  “It’s not soon enough for me,” Braden announced. “I’m sick of talking about it. I want it to be over.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mom’s expression was distant. Then, as if she sensed me watching her, she shook her head and offered up a bright smile. I knew it was fake, but couldn’t help but marvel at the faux emotion she managed to muster. “Well, the wedding is right around the corner. That means we have a lot of decisions to make. I suggest we start with the flowers.”

  “I’m fine with that.” I remained calm despite my irritation. “We need Jerry first. I promised I wouldn’t make any decisions without him.”

  “Of course we need Jerry.” Mom was matter-of-fact. “I saw him in the front with Aidan when I came in. They looked to be deep in conversation, but I’m sure whatever it is won’t take long.”

  I cocked my head, intrigued. “They’re out front?”

  Mom nodded.

  I hopped to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Aisling, where are you going?” Dad called after me.

  “I just want to check on them,” I lied.

  “You want to eavesdrop,” Dad countered.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Oh, geez,” Dad muttered. “I would’ve been better off hoarding cats rather than kids.”

  “It’s too late now.”

  “I’m well aware. Hey! Leave your brother and Jerry alone. It’s none of your business what they’re talking about.”

  That’s not exactly how I saw it.

  8

  Eight

  “Come back here, you busybody!”

  Dad made a grab for my shoulder as he followed me through the house, but I easily evaded him, increasing my pace until I reached the front foyer. I stopped next to the window on the right side of the door and peered out, my eyes landing on Aidan and Jerry almost immediately.

  Mom was right. They looked to be deep in conversation.

  “What’s going on?” Redmond asked, curiosity getting the better of him as he watched Dad attempt to force me away from the window. “What are we missing out on?”

  “Nothing,” Dad answered automatically.

  “Aidan and Jerry had a fight last night,” I answered, slapping at Dad’s hands. “I want to make sure they’re playing nice.”

  “What did they fight about?” Braden asked. “They hardly ever fight. They’re almost annoyingly in love.”

  “They just had a misunderstanding,” I lied, glaring at Dad as he tried to tug on the back of my shirt. “Don’t make me wrestle you to the floor,” I warned.

  Braden, Cillian and Redmond laughed at the threat.

  “Yes, I’m terrified you’ll embarrass me and do just that,” Dad drawled. “I live in fear of it every day of my life. Get away from that window.” Dad was firm as he grabbed my arm and gave a good tug. “That’s Aidan’s business. If he wants us to talk about it, he’ll share the story with us when he’s ready.”

  Cillian narrowed his eyes as he glanced between Dad and me. He was the shrewdest of my brothers – at least when it came to books and reading people – and he clearly understood something else was going on. “Did something happen?”

  “What could’ve possibly happened?” Mom challenged. “Aidan and Jerry are perfect for each other. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

  “Oh, it was more than a misunderstanding,” I said, doing my level best to stomp on Dad’s instep. He steadfastly avoided my attempts, which further infuriated me. “They had a fight while under the influence of the magic thunderstorms.”

  Dad stilled, his grip on my shirt tightening. “Why did you have to say that?”

  I shrugged. “It just slipped out.”

  “We had a talk about this not five minutes ago,” Dad snapped. “We agreed you were going to keep your hypothesis to yourself.”

  “Wait … what hypothesis?” Cillian challenged. “I think we’re out of the loop here.”

  “You’re not missing anything,” Dad argued. “In fact, I wish I weren’t in the loop, because the loop is full of a bunch of ridiculous nonsense.”

  “It’s not nonsense. It’s true.” I pushed against Dad’s chest as hard as I could, but couldn’t dislodge him. “The storms are making people angry. It’s like there are Hulk particles in the raindrops or something.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mom asked, her gaze pointed.

  “That’s your question?” Braden deadpanned. “The first thing that popped into my head was asking when Aisling stopped taking her meds.”

  “That’s not funny, Braden,” Dad snapped. “Your sister is not impaired. She’s simply … spirited.”

  “I’m usually the first one to stand up for Aisling, but I think, at least this time, she might be crazy, too,” Redmond noted. “I mean … I love her and everything, so if she really is going to turn into one of those chicks who sits in a corner and tries to eat her own nose I’ll take care of her and all. I simply need to know what I’m up against.”

  “Ha, ha.” I used my free hand to cuff Redmond while diligently working to shove Dad away with the other. “I’m not crazy. I know what I’m talking about. The storms are evil and they make evil things happen. I’m not making it up.”

  “I don’t think anyone believes you’re making it up, Ais,” Cillian offered, adopting a calm and even tone that set m
y teeth on edge. “That’s not the way you do things, and we know you’re not a liar.”

  “Wait a second.” Braden waved his hand to interrupt the conversation. “Since when isn’t she a liar? This is the girl who told Dad that she ticked off a gang of ghosts and they scratched his Mustang. Do you remember that, Dad?”

  “Of course I do,” Dad gritted out. “I had to drop five-thousand dollars on a security system for the garage because of it.”

  “I still maintain that ghosts were responsible,” I snapped. “I haven’t been proven wrong on that.”

  “You were on camera bringing the car back in the middle of the night,” Braden reminded me. “Dad found a new ding the very next day.”

  I stopped grappling with Dad long enough to glare at Braden. “You know an awful lot about what happened to a car that was retired from the fleet a decade ago, Braden. Perhaps you were the one controlling the ghosts to mess with me.”

  “Or maybe he was stealing the car, too, and simply wanted you to be the one blamed,” Redmond supplied.

  The look Braden scorched Redmond with was right out of a bad Lifetime movie about brothers turning on one another.

  “I can’t believe you’d narc on me like that,” Braden muttered.

  “Hey, you were going after Aisling,” Redmond pointed out. “She has enough strikes against her, what with believing in evil storms and all. She needs allies.”

  “I don’t need allies.” I tried a quick move to escape Dad’s grip, but he was prepared for it and all I managed to do was mess up my hair. “I know I’m right about the storms. We’ve had two days full of them, and the city is coming apart under the weight of the violence.”

  “What city?” Cillian asked. “If you’re talking about Detroit, the city has been crumbling under the weight of violence since long before we were born.”

  “Your brother has a point,” Dad said. “Aisling, if you bite my fingers I’ll lock you in the basement overnight! What was I saying again? Oh, right. Cillian makes sense. Detroit is always violent. You have no proof to back up your claims about these evil storms.”

  “I hate to gang up on you with everyone else, but … .” Mom held up her hands as if to say, “You’re a loon and you know it.”

  “I don’t care what any of you say.” I tried one final move to escape Dad … and almost fell on my face in the process. Dad caught me by the back of my shirt before I could topple over and hit the ceramic tile. “I know what’s going on, and you can’t convince me differently.”

  “And this has something to do with why you’re so desperate to spy on Aidan and Jerry?” Redmond queried.

  “You mind your own business, too,” Dad ordered. “Aidan and Jerry are allowed to have some privacy no matter what the other members of this family think. What they’re doing outside – or not doing, for that matter – is completely up to them.”

  “I can’t quite keep up with the conversation,” Braden admitted. “Are we fighting about privacy issues or Aisling’s mental health problems? I can get behind either one, but I need to know where to focus my energy.”

  “We’re not talking about either of them.” Dad lost his grip just as the front door opened to allow Aidan and Jerry entrance. I was fighting his efforts, so I pitched forward and landed on my knees in front of them.

  “What’s going on?” Aidan asked, grabbing me under the armpits to help me stand. “Why are you guys all out here?”

  “We were coming to get you,” Dad said, quickly smoothing his dark hair as he flashed a broad smile. “We’re about to head in for drinks. We didn’t want you to miss them.”

  “Okay.” Aidan didn’t look convinced as he snagged my gaze. “What were you doing?”

  “Dad and I were having a difference of opinion of sorts.” I sniffed as I rubbed my sore knees. “I’m pretty sure I won.”

  “Aisling.” Dad’s voice was low and full of warning.

  “It’s nothing serious,” I lied, ignoring the head bob Dad gave to show he agreed with my tack. “I could definitely use a drink.”

  “We could all use drinks,” Redmond said. “I’ll lead the way … and pour. How does everyone feel about rum runners?”

  IT SEEMED AIDAN AND Jerry made up outside because they were happy and smiling throughout dinner, their eyes constantly trained on one another as they lent only half an ear to the conversations going on around them.

  That was probably for the best … although I was dying for details. I was resigned to waiting for private time with my best friend to hear them.

  Griffin appeared before we finished dessert, and one of the servers immediately slid a plate heaping with food in front of him. Griffin thanked her profusely before digging in. He ate with enough gusto to make me believe he’d skipped lunch and was running on fumes.

  “Take a breath, son,” Dad chided, watching him with equal fascination. “The food isn’t going anywhere.”

  Griffin sipped his wine before responding. “Sorry. I’m starving. Once Aisling mentioned it was prime rib night that’s all I could think about.”

  “You finished your case?” I asked.

  Griffin nodded. “As much as can be done. We need to talk to the family tomorrow – they were wrecked today – and make sure we didn’t miss anything. It seems open and shut.”

  “This is this thing I heard on the news, right?” Mom inquired. “The man who killed his girlfriend and then walked into traffic to kill himself?”

  “I heard about that,” Redmond said. “I didn’t realize that was your case.”

  “I wish it weren’t,” Griffin explained. “We’re overloaded with cases the past few days and down a man so it’s just a lot to deal with. I’m sure it will work itself out.” Griffin offered up a wan smile. “So what have you guys been doing while waiting for me?”

  “Well, Dad and Aisling had a wrestling match because she was trying to eavesdrop on Aidan and Jerry,” Braden answered. “Then she told us about some crazy theory she has about evil storms. We’re thinking about having her committed. I think that about covers it.”

  I glared holes in the side of his head. “You just couldn’t let it go, could you?”

  Braden ignored my irritation. “You wouldn’t mind if we locked her up, would you, Griffin?”

  “As a matter of fact, I would.” Griffin slid me an unreadable look. “You brought up the storms to your family?”

  “You knew what she was thinking about the storms?” Dad asked. “How could you let her leave the house when she believes stuff like that?”

  Griffin shrugged. “She was right about the zombies, but we all thought she was crazy then.”

  “Yes, but this is entirely different,” Dad sputtered. “Storms are not evil.”

  “And zombies weren’t real until they came after us,” Griffin pointed out. “I’m not going to dissuade her from thinking outside the box. She’s allowed to believe what she wants to believe.”

  “But this is ludicrous,” Dad persisted, refusing to back down. “Storms don’t cause people to go crazy.”

  Intrigued, Aidan leaned forward. He missed most of the conversation in the foyer and was unaware of my storm rant. “You think the storms are making people act out of sorts?” He risked a quick look at Jerry before focusing on me. “Tell me why.”

  I licked my lips as I debated how best to respond. “Well … .” Ultimately I launched into the whole tale a second time, conveniently leaving out Aidan and Jerry’s part in the story while carefully watching those sitting around the table for reactions. When I was done, Aidan appeared thoughtful but the rest of my brothers couldn’t stop laughing.

  “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Braden stuttered. “I mean … how can you possibly believe that?”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “I think it makes sense.”

  “Aisling, I know that you’ve always had a fertile imagination, but that’s kind of going overboard.” Cillian adopted a gentle but pragmatic tone. “Isn’t it possible that nerves were simply fraye
d because of the storm and people exploded?”

  “Not like that. Irritation doesn’t make non-violent people suddenly violent.”

  “You don’t know Griffin’s co-worker,” Dad pointed out. “He might be violent and simply good at hiding it.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true,” Griffin hedged. “Lani, his wife, is adamant that nothing of the sort has ever happened, and I believe her. The doctor did note an increase of epinephrine in his system. They’re looking for causes.”

  “Does that mean you believe the evil storm idea?” Dad asked pointedly.

  “I’m not sure what I believe. I know that I believe in Aisling, and I’m not going to make fun of her because she voiced an idea. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “But she thinks storms are evil,” Braden pressed. “Storms aren’t evil. They’re just wet … and sometimes cold.”

  “Well, with reasoning like that, I can’t believe I ever thought otherwise,” I drawled. “I’ve seen the light. Braden is right and I’m clearly a moron.”

  “Well, at least you admit it,” Braden supplied.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Mom interjected. “Now isn’t the time to bicker. I don’t believe there’s good reason to believe the storm theory either, but Aisling clearly isn’t crazy. Stop treating her as if she is.”

  I considered thanking my mother for standing up for me, but thought better of it. She hadn’t put much effort into the argument, so I didn’t need to go out of my way for a thank-you.

  “Aisling is leaving something out of her story,” Jerry volunteered, taking everyone by surprise when he inserted himself into the conversation. “One other thing happened, and that’s why she’s so vehement about it.”

  “You don’t have to,” Aidan said, keeping his voice low. “We talked about it. It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” Jerry countered, meeting my gaze. “It’s okay, Bug. They can know.”

  “Is this why Aisling was eavesdropping in the first place?” Cillian asked.

  Jerry nodded. “I turned a bit violent myself last night.” He told the story, pausing for the appropriate gasps, and when he was done he looked mortified. “I’ve never been more disappointed in myself. I still don’t know how it happened.”

 

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