Deceitful Moon

by Rick Murcer

  “You? A workaholic?”

  “Okay smart-ass, make yourself useful and check the back door.”

  “Done. So tell me more about this Carousel thing?’

  “Crazy stuff. Two members of Carousel’s security staff assigned to our favorite cruise ship, the Ocean Duchess, were shot, execution style, right in their homes. Carousel security is clueless.”

  “You mean that almost-asshole, Chief Richardson, is clueless.”

  “He’s not my favorite cop either, but he did us a good turn, and no, I haven’t heard from him. The head of security for all of Carousel’s ships, Destina Flores, contacted the FBI. Josh called…and I said yes.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t hurt that they offered you a cushy master suite to cruise the Eastern Caribbean.”

  “Hey. Stop whining, you and Alex got suites of your own.”

  “True. Life’s about who you know.” She grinned.

  “Anyway, there wasn’t a stitch of forensic evidence in either murder, except for one tiny detail that they haven’t released to the public.”

  Sophie cocked her head. “Just don’t say it’s little written letters on paper shoved up the nose.”

  “No. That’s been done. Do you know what an ouroboros is?”

  Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Is it kinky?”

  He shook his head. “It’s a symbol of a snake or a serpent eating themselves.”

  “You said it wasn’t kinky.”

  “It’s not. It’s…”

  “Sounds kinky.”

  “Stop. Each victim was branded with the Celtic version of the ouroboros, one victim on the left hand and the other victim on the right hand.”

  “So what the hell does that mean?”

  “It has different meanings in different cultures. I have an idea, but maybe Chloe Franson will have a clue. Since she’s on Josh’s team, and from Galway, Ireland, she may have seen this kind of thing before.”

  “I like her, but the big thing I remember about her was the way she was making eyes at you.”

  Manny was hit with a sudden pang of guilt. Sophie was only half right. He’d returned a couple extra looks himself. And it was more than looks, wasn’t it? He had been attracted to Chloe, in more than one way. But they’d talked and made a truce. She wouldn’t jump him if he didn’t touch her again, and he would stay faithful to the love of his life.

  Four days later, Louise was dead, his heart was a massive wreck, and Chloe Franson was just a name. At least that’s what he told himself. But every once in awhile, when he heard her name, or when her green eyes arrested his memory, he became confused, then ashamed. He still loved and missed his wife. Yet, Chloe caused his emotions to war like Democrats and Republicans.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Whatever.” She looped her arm though his and they headed for the door, Manny dragging his bag. “We haven’t talked about the other thing.”

  “You mean Sampson? Louise’s brother has a huge yard. Big Dog will be fine over there for a couple of weeks.”

  Just then, Alex Downs, Lansing’s head CSI, came through the door, his round face wearing impatience. “Good God. You two are slower than the Second Coming. Let’s get it in motion.”

  Sophie frowned at Alex. “Just a minute, doughboy.” She turned to Manny “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  Manny sighed. “Doctor Fredrick Argyle is always on my mind. He’s like some damned addiction that is a split second away from sending my life spinning out of control, particularly lately.”

  Alex shifted his weight. “Why has that murdering bastard been on your mind lately?

  Manny Williams ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “After ten months, he left me a message three nights ago.”

  Chapter-4

  The new guest, the American, made her nervous. Haley Rose Franson wasn’t all that sure why. He was tall, good looking, polite, and very bright. She was forty-nine, but not dead, and she could still appreciate a man. His broad shoulders invited her to steal those hidden looks that folks lie about.

  Still. She didn’t trust him. Nothing she could put her finger on, but there was something now, wasn’t there?

  She’d been around the block a few times, especially since her husband, Darren, had run off with that tart from Dublin, leaving her and her niece, Meav, to run the B&B. Darren hadn’t fooled her with his last affair, and she had the same feeling about this American. He was hiding something. She sighed. Then again, weren’t most people?

  She sipped her hot tea and then pulled the thick wool sweater even tighter around her neck, hoping to ward off the ever-present wind whistling from the Irish Sea. It raced through Galway Bay like some damned banshee and blew directly to her chair inside the ocean-front gazebo of Bay Side Bed and Breakfast.

  Haley Rose smiled. Even in August, there was no expectation of warm weather on her beloved island, but that was part of the charm, the uniqueness of Ireland, and she loved it with all her heart. Especially on nights like this. The wind was strong, to be sure, but the night sky was amazingly clear, revealing a billion stars shining like precious gems. The divine view was capped off by the twinkling lights of the villages on the Aran Islands guarding the mouth of Galway Bay, some 50 kilometers across the water.

  People, her guests mostly, talked about fancy places in the world like the Caribbean or Hawaii, and she’d heard them prattle on like school children, don’t you know, but one glimpse of her Heaven on earth and they forgot all about those other places. Most of ‘em just stood there with their mouths to their knees. Even her daughter Chloe, Miss Smarty Pants Special FBI Agent, came home twice a year to shake the demons of her job and bask in the beauty of God’s favorite place.

  The wind abruptly stopped, at least for a moment, like it was prone to do. She leaned over the edge of the gazebo, closed her eyes, and took in a long, deep breath of fresh ocean air. The only thing better would be to have a man holding her, kissing her, touching her. Getting her ready for what was next. And she hadn’t had “next” in an age or two.

  “What a wonderful view.”

  Haley Rose jumped, tossed her tea cup into the air, and slapped her strong hand to her ample bosom all in a nanosecond.

  “Oh my. I’m so sorry. Did I frighten you?”

  She turned to face the source of the voice she’d learned to…appreciate. “Why no. I often throw a perfectly good cup of tea far into the air in a fit of joy. You’ve caught me in the act, I’m afraid.”

  The American grinned. Even in the half-light of the night, she could see his charm.

  “You Irish have such odd customs.”

  “Aye, we might be a bit different, but we’re special, we are.”

  “I do apologize for the scare. Let me make it up to you. I’m going to visit Dunguaire Castle in the morning. I’ve been anticipating getting a good look at Emerald Bay from that vantage point. Would you be able to tear yourself away and accompany me as a guide? I’d be so appreciative, and certainly take you to lunch in return.”

  Haley Rose’s pulse rate climbed a notch or two as she pushed back her long red hair. She felt something amiss with him, to be sure, but most women fantasized about the whole bad boy thing, didn’t they? This American had that stamp all over him…and the conundrum was fascinating. And what about after lunch? She felt herself grow warmer. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  He moved closer and took her hand. Sudden, totally unexpected, electricity shot up her arm straight to her heart. It was amazing.

  “If I might be so bold,” he said. “I’ve seen your side glances, and I’ve prayed you haven’t noticed the awkwardness of my own. You’re simply too beautiful to ignore. You are a charming woman, and I never could resist green eyes such as yours. So please, don’t disappoint me.”

  She barely managed to keep her hand from shaking as she pulled it away. Haley Rose took a deep breath and released it slowly. “It is against my better judgment to go on a date with one of my guests, but I do want to show you so
me old-fashioned Irish hospitality. And to be sure, I don’t want to be leaving you disappointed. Fredrick Argyle, I’d love to accompany you on your tour.”