Oracle Haunting (The Phoenix Files Book 4)
Page 21
That worked for them.
Getting situated, Lucian and Avalon sat side by side. Brianna was across from them, and Molly…she was staring at Maura.
“Beat it, mop.”
She didn’t move.
“Brianna, tell the dust bunny to move.”
Molly walked around the table, giving Maura room. As soon as she sat, Molly was on her, mauling her with kisses.
“Jesus! You have bacon-liver breath!” she hissed.
Avalon snorted.
“It’s not funny!”
Oh, it really was.
When William Byrd came in, carrying the books, he dropped them on the table.
“Here’s the Braille one,” he said, handing it to Avalon. “The rest are here.”
They divided them up.
“If you need help with your book, Miss Collins, I’ll be more than happy to assist.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m good, Mr. Byrd. Thank you for your help.”
He closed the door, and they got to work.
Forty minutes in, Lucian was the one who found something.
“This isn’t good,” he offered.
That had their attention.
“What?” Avalon asked, closing her book. She had to say she loved the whole ‘investigation’ job. Now she saw why Nate, Bishop, and Luke loved doing it. It was like a game.
It was like finding a missing piece to the puzzle.
“Well, I found an archive list of his family.”
He turned the book around, showing Maura and Brianna.
“Can you help a blind girl out?” she asked. “I’m at the disadvantage here, even using Lucian’s sight.”
Maura scanned it, and then read it to her.
“It seems that not only did he let Maribel take the blame for his witchy ways, but he also had some fun after she was gone.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, when they finally came to the house, to take him away, he was gone. He vanished.”
“Okay, and?” Avalon asked.
“They found all the house servants dead. They were missing their hearts and the bodies were stacked neatly in the wine cellar.”
She blinked.
“Ewww,” Avalon stated. “That’s kinda…scary.”
And that said it all. She was all kinds of scary, and finally, something freaked her out.
Maura knew what this meant.
“This is one hell of a mystery.”
Yeah, they were well aware.
“We have to keep digging until we find something else, like where he went and did he go alone?”
Lucian patted her hand. “That’s a very good idea, Avi. I think you’re just as good at being a ‘cop’ as Oracle.”
She laughed. “You may be right. Move over, Nathaniel. I think I was meant to be an investigator,” Avalon teased.
Maura shook her head.
“Do me a favor.”
“What?” Avalon asked.
“Don’t tell your husband that. He’ll lose his mind at the mere pictures in his head.”
Avalon laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I can’t believe I’m hunting down a cannibalistic witch, who might be tied to this case.”
Yeah, neither could they.
No one in their wildest dreams saw this one coming.
Ireland was one weird place.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Connor O’Leary’s
Home
When they got there, the place was pretty quiet. It looked like every other home along the bustling street, except the house was set back from the chaos—off of an alley—where there were tons of dumpsters and reeking garbage.
Talk about a bad location to build a home.
“Watch your backs,” Laird warned, before they even got close to the house. He wanted to do this as safely as possible.
Getting three ‘tourists’ hurt would not be good for them, or his career in Adare. Being on the chief superintendent’s shit list was not a good thing.
He’d managed to stay off it this long.
Honestly, he liked his job and his life—as of late.
“Connor is this big ass thug, who doesn’t respect authority. He’s not going to cooperate, he’s not going to be pleasant, and I know he’s not going to like seeing me at his house. He’s going to draw conclusions and act on them.”
They got that.
He was a fight risk.
In their lines of work, that was common when the FBI came a knocking.
“Stay behind me,” Laird stated.
They watched as he unbuttoned his suit jacket, to reveal a gun.
Well, holy shit!
Bishop was jealous, and when she told Maura, she was going to drool on the man’s sidepiece. Most cops in Ireland didn’t carry, and this was the first gun they’d seen in…weeks.
This was interesting.
“Ready?” he asked.
The man was tense, and that said it all. It put all three of them on alert as to the situation. If the Irish Garda was packing, and worried about approaching this man, this was likely going to be a dangerous situation.
They braced for it.
Luke and Nate got into position behind him, putting Bishop in their middle. They gave the man room to do his job, since they really didn’t have any jurisdiction.
They had to trust him.
If he’d tangled with Connor O’Leary before, he knew best. Far be it for them to get involved.
Laird approached the porch and banged on the door.
He took a step back to observe the situation.
From the corner of his eye, he saw some movement, and then heard Bishop gasp.
When she was ripped from between them by some force, the men spun.
And it was bad.
Bishop was pressed to the front of some man with a blade stuck to her throat. It was pressed precariously to her carotid artery.
“Well, right-o, the pig is on my porch. What say you, Detective? Are we going to have a go?”
Laird reached for his gun.
“I’ll make the bloody girl squeal like a pig as I cut out her heart!” he said with his thick Irish accent. “She’ll be dead before you pull that gun of yours.”
Laird stopped moving.
“Let her go,” he said. “We’re just here to talk.”
He laughed. “Oh, Detective, I’m going to have myself a right good time talking to this sweet piece of arse, aren’t I, lovey?” he asked.
Then, he did the unthinkable.
He grabbed her breast and gave it a squeeze.
Bishop didn’t hesitate.
She’d had enough. So, she kicked his ass.
Chapter Eleven
H e never saw it coming, and that ended up making it all the more spectacular. The second Connor O’Leary grabbed her breast, Bishop moved into action. She swung her leg back, getting him in the nuts, and then she broke free of his grasp. That’s when she really hurt him.
She punched him in the face with her fist, slammed him in the throat with her palm, and then rammed him off one of the smelly garbage dumpsters—face first.
The men simply stared with their mouths open. Apparently, Bishop didn’t need them to save her. She did it herself, and spectacularly too.
When Connor finally landed flat on his back, he was a bloody mess.
“For the record,” she said, wiping her bloody knuckles on his shirt, “a lady doesn’t like to be accosted, you sick piece of shit.”
Then she kicked him in the gut to punctuate her irritation.
Luke clapped.
Nate started laughing.
“I think I want to move to America,” Laird stated. “What the hell do they teach you at your police academy? I’ve never seen anything quite like that.”
Oh, Bishop could tell him.
“I didn’t go to a police academy,” she said, as he was handcuffed. “I have brothers and a father who was a cop. They taught me to beat a man’s ass if his hands went places they weren’t allowed.�
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Nate checked her neck. “You have a nick on your throat. Lucian will NOT be amused.”
Probably not, but she was entertained by abusing the asshole on the ground. She’d take the nick for that any day.
Laird handed her his pocket square. “Here.”
She dabbed it.
“You’re lucky I didn’t have a gun,” she said to the man on the ground when he moaned, finally, coming to. “I would have shot your nuts off and then kicked them back to the States.”
They all believed it.
“What did I do?” Connor whined, as his face was covered in his own blood and his nose was at a grotesque angle.
That wasn’t healing in the morning.
“Well, you had a go at some hooker who didn’t want your business,” Laird stated.
“So? I walked away,” he mumbled.
Clearly, he knew who they were talking about.
“Well, she didn’t. You just threatened my FBI friend here, and said you’d cut out her heart. Care to guess what was missing from Kyra Hogan’s chest?”
He clammed up.
“Yeah, you’re in trouble. AGAIN.”
That was all he had to say. The man only had one thing on his mind.
His lawyer.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
It was time once more. In order to keep it going, calling out the dark forces of the night, another heart must be found.
Taken.
Offered.
Consumed.
Tonight, another one would lose their life, but it would be all worth it.
Carman would grant and protect, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
She was the queen.
Her will was divine.
In the rolling green hills, blood would be spilled, filling the rivers and lakes with her power and energy.
She was coming back.
She would lead.
And the long dormant believers in Ireland would follow.
Forever.
Like it had been before.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Graymoor
Roxy was busily reading the autopsy reports that Nate and Luke had left behind for her.
They were on her lap as she sipped a cup of warm tea.
As she sat there, her husband, not far away, watched her with his serious gaze.
“You’re making me nervous,” she said, flipping the pages of the report.
“Am I?” he asked.
She glanced up to check out her sexy husband. It was probably all those tattoos, the serious look, or the piercing eyes.
Or it could be the whole damn package.
“What are you thinking about?”
He leaned back in the chair, to contemplate his wife’s question.
“If we’re only going to have one baby, or if you’re going to have more.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe we should try one out before we screw up a whole bunch of them. You know, like responsible parents.”
He laughed. “Your faith in me is astounding.”
She snorted. “It’s my faith in me. I know you’ll be an amazing father. I see how you dote on Avalon, protect your family, and how you miss your sister. I’m the wild card in this one.”
He did miss Jaxon.
He missed calling her.
He missed seeing her.
It was hell.
“Yeah, well, I do wish I could talk to her. She’s having a baby, and she has to be scared. She has no family there for her. I hate that I can’t be there for her.”
“Why don’t you talk to her?” she asked. “I can call her. The FBI doesn’t know we’re together. You stole the paperwork from the court house, right?”
Yeah, he had.
While he had wanted his marriage on record, he couldn’t leave a paper trail. After they had ‘died’, he needed to clean up any path back to them. The ONLY person who could tie Roxy to him was Silas Reed, and he’d be handling him next.
His day was coming.
“I don’t know.”
She dug her cell out of her purse and turned it on. They’d all switched numbers the second they’d landed in Ireland.
“Do it.”
Jagger stared at it.
“Go ahead,” she offered.
Well, what would it hurt?
Jagger dialed his sister and waited. He couldn’t wait to talk to her. He seriously missed hearing her.
“Hello?” came her voice on the line.
“I love you and miss you.”
There was a pause.
Jaxon had to have been moving somewhere secure.
“I love and miss you too,” Jaxon replied, careful not to say his name.
“How are you and the baby?”
“I’m getting fat.”
“Roxy too. It’s a gorgeous thing.”
She smiled at her husband. His mood had immediately changed. Apparently, his sister had that ability.
“I wish I could see you,” she said.
“I know, baby, but…”
“Are you okay?”
“I am. I need a favor.”
Jaxon would do anything for her brother. “Yes?”
“Don’t be afraid when you have my niece or nephew. I may not be right there with you, but I’m in your heart.”
The tears came.
For her.
For him.
For Roxy.
“If you need me, I’ll come back. I’ll find a way to be there for you, Jaxon. You just call me.”
She believed him.
Her brother was her rock. Besides Tony, he was the best man she knew.
“I was sitting here worried before you called, but I’m not anymore. I know I still have you. I’ll be okay. You just be safe. Your funeral sucked.”
He laughed.
Oh, he was aware.
He’d seen it.
It was something to watch yourself being buried. It had been a decent turn out.
Apparently, he’d been a damn good Marine and there had been people who respected him.
“Thank you for that eulogy. It was beautiful. Please tell Director Hotstuff I loved what she said too.”
She laughed. “I’ll tell Elizabeth, and for the record, Tony wrote mine for me. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to be sick the entire time.”
He got it.
He would have felt the same.
“Tell the old man I said thanks, and when you see Elizabeth Blackhawk, tell her we’re okay.”
“I can do that.”
“Now, kiss that baby for me the day he, or she, is born, and remember that I will love you until the day I die, Jax.”
She was all weepy. “Thank you for this today. I needed it. Mom died, today, all those years ago.”
He was aware. That was likely why he was edgy and missing his sister. They were connected forever by genetics and the death of the one woman who always loved them.
“Be strong, Jax. I’m with you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hung up.
“Better?” Roxy asked.
“Yes and no.”
“It’s hard on her, and you, isn’t it?”
“Today is always hard.” He looked at his watch. “In two hours, her time, our mother died almost thirty years ago. It’s a rough time for both of us. We snuck into the morgue to see her against our father’s wishes.”
“Oh, Jagger.”
“Yeah, she was a mess. Jaxon has never gotten over that visual.”
Hell!
He hadn’t either.
Roxy knew what it had to have been like. She moved from her spot on the couch to sit on her husband’s lap.
“Want me to make you feel better?” she asked.
He grinned wickedly. “Hell yes!”
“Good. Rub my back. Your baby is killing me already,” she said, turning.
Jagger started laughing.
Well, so much to having the place to themselves.
Jagger was grateful for his wife and child.
Without them, he’d be in hell.
* * * O R A C L E * * *
Detective’s Office
Tuesday Afternoon
While he wished the man in custody had been productive, Connor O’Leary had not been helpful—at all.
The second they arrived at his office, he began screaming police brutality.
The only thing that saved Laird’s bacon was that Bishop Monroe was simply a tourist. She’d played that card, wept a little as she filed a police report, and helped Laird keep the man locked in the cage.
The Monroes were well known in Adare, and they were respected. Lucian’s family had infused the town with money years ago, and that gave them respect.
Her word as Lucian’s wife was paramount over one of their own with a history of being a criminal.
Still…
He’d been useless.
As soon as the man’s lawyer arrived, he refused to talk to Laird about anything. Apparently, he didn’t want to implicate himself.
That was fine with him.
Laird had a plan.
“What are you going to do?” Nate asked, sitting in the man’s office area, sipping some coffee.
“Well, the static is going haywire,” he said, tapping his head. “Something is going on,” he offered.
Nate knew from being around Avalon and Lucian that when the voices were stirred up, that generally meant they were expecting something bad.
“Maybe the killer?”
He nodded. “That would be my guess,” he offered. “Tonight, the killer will move again. I can hold Connor for about twenty-four hours. If we have a body, and he’s in lock up…”
They got it.
He wouldn’t be their man.
“I wish we had something more,” Bishop said, as she perched on the corner of an unused desk. “It sucks that someone is going to die, and we can’t stop it.”