He glanced in the rear view mirror again. “Damned fool. Get off my tail and go around.”
Finally, the SUV drew alongside him to pass. Instead of pulling ahead, it swerved into his front fender.
“What the hell?” Brendan blasted his car’s horn.
In answer, the SUV bumped him again, harder this time.
Thunder boomed overhead. Rain began to fall and the pavement turned slick as ice. He recalled Deirdre’s warning and Frank’s. This was it then, whoever drove the SUV intended to drive him off the road.
They approached a sharp curve. Brendan fought to defend his car against the larger vehicle’s attack. His mid-size sedan had no chance against the huge SUV. Metal screeched against metal. He lost control and his car plunged down the embankment and rolled.
When the car stopped, he hung suspended upside down. Deflated airbags dangled like spent balloons. Unfastening the seat belt, Brendan dropped to his overturned car’s headliner.
He touched the lump on his head and found sticky moisture. Blood. His head ached like a sonofabitch and he needed to sit down, but he didn’t dare delay inside the car. The strong odor of gasoline surrounded him and he feared an explosion.
He had to get out, and fast!
It hadn’t been road rage that sent the other vehicle into his. Was this another warning or had someone intended his death? Either way, he had to escape.
All the doors were too damaged to open. Using his jacket as a buffer against the few shards remaining in the passenger door’s window, he slithered out the side away from the road in case anyone above watched. Keeping low, he raced behind a group of cedars.
While he looked toward the road, he crouched motionless and listened. After what must have been only seconds, a flash of lightning illuminated a shadowy figure standing where Brendan’s car had barreled off the pavement.
Someone checking to see I don’t make it out.
No sooner had the idea occurred to him than he heard the soft pop of a silenced gun. The ping of a bullet struck his car mere nanoseconds before the car exploded in flames. Above the roar of his burning sedan, a car door slammed and the SUV drove away.
Damn good thing he couldn’t get the door open in case the interior lights had still worked. He’d have been a spotlighted target. Easy pickings.
He’d taken hundreds of risks in the line of duty. But he’d never before been the objective of an unknown assassin—not unless he could prove the drive by shooting of him and Larry was an assassination.
Sparks from the fire showered the area, igniting smaller fires in the undergrowth. With any luck, the storm would prevent the fire’s spread. Moving further away from the roaring blaze, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed
9-1-1. Then, he waited in the rain.
Chapter Sixteen
Two hours later, a sheriff’s deputy dropped Brendan off at his mom’s house. Blossom and Deirdre rushed to him as soon as he opened the door.
“Son, we were so worried about you.” She stopped and her hand went to her throat. “Oh, my heavens, you’re hurt. What happened?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Just a little shaken.” He looked at Deirdre. “Damned SUV ran me off the road at that sharp turn past Nelson’s.” He staggered into the kitchen and the women followed him.
Deirdre pulled a chair around. “Sit here and I’ll wash your wound.” She took a clean cloth from a drawer and dampened it under the tap.
He almost fell into the seat. “Funny how tired a guy gets when he’s run off the road and shot at.”
”You need sweetened liquids to overcome the shock of your ordeal.” Blossom rushed to the refrigerator, grabbed a Dr Pepper, and handed it to him. “Drink this while I fix you something to eat.”
“Thanks, anything will do.”
His mother was preparing a sandwich. “Is the place on your forehead the only cut?”
“I think so. Bruises, and I’ll probably be sore and stiff tomorrow.” He took a long swallow of the soft drink. “I don’t know about shock, but I’m sure thirsty. Deputy tried to send me to the emergency room, but I just wanted to come home.”
“Didn’t I warn you?” Deirdre dabbed at his head to clean the blood away.
“Yes, you did.” He grabbed Deirdre’s wrist. “But how’d you know there’d be someone in a giant SUV waiting to push my car off the road and then shoot the gas tank so it exploded?” He realized he’d squeezed too tightly and released her.
Blossom paled and she dropped onto a chair at the end of the table. “Son, are you saying the SUV’s driver deliberately caused your wreck?”
“That’s exactly what happened. Running me off the road wasn’t enough, so he made sure the car exploded. As far as he knew, I was still inside. And I want Deirdre to tell me how she learned about it.”
Instead of taking his side, his mother said, “Tell him about the vision, dear.”
“It didn’t show anyone causing you to go off the road.” Deirdre refolded the cloth and dabbed at him again. “When we were on the dock, I received the image that showed your car careening down a hillside. It appeared to happen at night, which is why I asked you to be home before dark.”
Brendan grimaced. “I think it would have happened no matter what time of day it was, as long as there were no other people around.”
She looked into his eyes. “M-My vision ended before I saw if you got out. Thank the saints you’re safe.”
Blossom tut-tutted. “You should have listened to Deirdre, son.”
“Mom, you can’t mean you believe in that vision crap of hers? I’m surprised you’re that gullible.” Damn, he should have known Mom would side with Deirdre’s woo-woo predictions. His mother loved that kind of stuff.
Mom shot him her look. The mean one he figured all mothers developed the minute they had a child, a look meant to overpower the offspring’s resistance and insure instant obedience. “I should think you’d believe in her visions by now. Heavens, how much more proof could you need?”
“Plenty. A few coincidences and lucky guesses prove nothing.” But he was beginning to think maybe there was something there. Did Deirdre know who drove the SUV or was she as innocent as she claimed and therefore precognizant? Naw, that vision bit was a load of bull.
“Son, didn’t you tell me there are no coincidences?”
“Yeah, so that means Deirdre knows who drove the SUV.”
Deirdre threw the cloth at his face. Hard.
“Ow.” He grabbed the wet missile from where it dropped to his lap after it smacked his face. “Hey, be careful. I’m injured here.”
She glared. “You’d try even the saint you’re named after, you big oaf. How much proof do you need that I have nothing but what I brought with me and my visions?” She took a step closer and peered into his face. “If I’m a criminal, where are my riches? Why would I need false papers if I’m in cahoots with some murdering whoreson?”
Whoreson? Who used words like that?
He held out his hand. “Okay, okay. Maybe I should have put it another way.” But should he? He was very attracted to Deirdre but was she one of those trying to kill him? Or, could she be shielding whoever was? Hell, at this rate no one else had to get rid of him. He’d be in the loony bin, banging his head on padded walls.
Deirdre fisted her hands on her hips and let him have another volley. “There’s only so many ways to call a woman a liar. Do you plan to use them all? Here’s a surprise then. Truly I’m beholden to you for helping me, but I’ll not stand here and listen to your bloody insults.”
She turned to Blossom and took a deep breath. Sweet as you please, she said to his mother, “Now that I know your son’s safe, I’ll excuse myself and be going to bed. Good night.” She turned and marched from the room. That damn cat followed behind her.
Blossom laughed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you get your comeuppance, but she let you have it, and nicely I must say.”
“Happy to have provided amusement.” Brendan stood and tossed the cloth into t
he sink.
She placed a staying hand on his arm and her face became solemn. “Son, you can’t get around the fact someone meant you dead. From now on, you must use more caution. And heed Deirdre. She really does have visions, you know. It’s a gift, and one not to be taken lightly.”
He’d heard all about visions he cared to and then some. “I’m going to bed. Can I ride into town with you in the morning? I’ll need to rent something to drive until I replace my car. Plus, I’m supposed to go to physical therapy tomorrow.”
“Of course. Goodnight, son.” Suddenly she threw her arms around him. “Oh, Brendan, I’m trying to be brave but I’m terrified. First Larry and you were shot and he died, now they mean to kill you too. Please don’t let them.”
He hugged her and patted her back gently. “I won’t, Mom. Don’t worry, everything will work out all right.”
Could he keep the promise?
Chapter Seventeen
Deirdre wore a skirt and knit top and—with Blossom’s urging—her most comfortable shoes. She’d plaited her hair into a long braid down her back. New earrings and a matching necklace completed her ensemble. She liked the word ensemble, saying it again in her mind. She’d looked it up in the dictionary after hearing Blossom use it.
She smiled as she held up her wrist to admire her new watch. Brendan must have bought it for her before he’d made her angry, so it wasn’t given as an apology. Tucked into Brendan’s pocket, it had survived the terrible wreck. Knowing he’d thought of the watch on his own for no reason other than to please her made the gift special indeed.
“Sorry we had to get here so early. But by coming an hour before the shop opens, we’ll have time for me to show you around again.” Blossom opened the door. “Here’s the burglar alarm, hidden away in this cupboard.” She punched several buttons and a red light changed to green. “It’s like the one at our house, and uses the same set of numbers but in reverse.”
By the time other associates arrived, Deirdre thought she could find most types of herbs and vitamins. On each aisle, signs that hung over shelves aided her memory and helped customers. At first, she stood at the side and let others assist with questions.
When a tall, buxom woman in a lovely robe entered, Deirdre heard someone say, “My Lord, look who’s coming.”
Another associate whispered, “Oh no, it’s Mildred Vandermeer. Everybody run.”
The other associates scattered. Their reaction piqued Deirdre’s curiosity. She stood patiently and watched this person named Mildred Vandermeer.
The woman bore down on her like a storm. Her lovely multicolored robe flowed behind her like waves. She wore jingling bracelets on both arms and several necklaces around her neck. All lovely, but Deirdre decided the woman’s hair was her most astonishing feature. It stood straight out from her scalp three or four inches and wreathed her head like an aura of reddish orange fading to pink at the tips. Deirdre had never seen such a beautiful, glowing halo of hair.
Glancing around, Deirdre saw the shop’s other employees were busy. Very busy. She smiled and stepped forward.
“May I help you,” she asked, just as Blossom had coached her.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” The woman stopped in front of Deirdre.
“Yes, I am. My name is Deirdre. May I tell you your hair is the loveliest I’ve ever seen?” She heard a snicker from the next aisle.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?”
Deirdre was shocked to think she’d been misunderstood. “No, how could I be? Your hair is like a lovely sunrise. How lucky you are it’s such beautiful shades.”
The other woman touched her hair. “Well, I like it, but others don’t seem to.”
“How could anyone not love it?” Deirdre nodded. “It’s my opinion they must be jealous, for I envy you myself.”
A slow smile graced the woman’s face. “Kind of you to say so.” She reached into a slit of her giant purple purse and pulled out a list. “Perhaps you can help me find what I need.”
“I’ll be honored.” Deirdre took the sheet of paper. Thank goodness the writing was plain enough she could read it. “Let’s begin with the tea, shall we?”
An hour later, Deirdre waved goodbye to her new friend as the woman gathered her bags.
With a smile, Mildred called “Toodles,” then sailed through the door.
Blossom, who’d rung up Mildred’s purchases, rushed over to Deirdre. “Oh, dear, you are a wonder. That’s the most she’s ever spent, and she raved about your kindness.”
“It’s that pleased I am to hear you say so. Now isn’t Mildred Vandermeer a lovely woman?”
“Not to anyone else,” Polly said. “She’s had me near to tears several times.”
Surprised, Deirdre faced Polly. “Mildred has? But she was so nice to me.”
Blossom hugged Deirdre’s shoulders. “Whatever you said to her was perfect. She’s one of the richest and most influential women in Radford Crossing, maybe in North Texas. And one of the most difficult to please.”
Deirdre shook her head. “Who’d have imagined such a lovely woman could be difficult?”
She heard laughter behind her and turned sharply. Except for Blossom and Polly, the other associates scurried away again.
Polly patted her shoulder. “You’ve secured Blossom’s business. A word from Mrs. Vandermeer in the right ears and we’ll be even more successful.”
Deirdre shook her head again. “Well, I’ll be gobsmacked. Sure and who could have guessed such a thing?”
***
Brendan drove the rental car, a shiny red sports number, by his insurance agent’s office. He wanted to make sure they’d received the voice mail he left last night. They had, and exchanged information with him. He left for his next errand. Early, but he’d wait.
His physical therapist greeted him. “Hey, good timing. Lucky for you I had a cancellation.”
“Man, do I ever need help today. Had a wreck yesterday and, even with a seat belt on, I’m sore as hell from being bounced down a steep hillside. And the climb back up about finished off my sore thigh.”
“Then we’ll spend time working out the kinks.”
He completed the therapist’s routines while deep in thought. He couldn’t keep his mind from straying to Deirdre. Damned if he could figure if she was who she appeared? Or, did she know about the attack and warn him when she had second thoughts?
Beautiful and tempting as she was, he had lived with nutty eccentrics all his life. Any woman in whom he took a genuine interest would have to be level headed and stable to the max. Normalcy, that’s what he craved in a woman.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking about Deirdre and the way she’d smiled up at him when fishing for compliments by the dock? Or how relieved she appeared when he’d arrived home last night? That’d been kind of nice, having her face light up when he came in. Her soothing his cuts.
Hell, he was going as nutty as she was.
As Brendan left the building, he spotted a familiar figure loitering near the door and approached casually. “Hey, Trey, nice to see you.”
The kid looked around with the stealth of a covert CIA agent. “Listen, I came to warn you.”
“Yeah?”
“Word is out that someone powerful wants you dead. Quit asking around or the guy will make it happen.” As the kid spoke, he searched all around them.
“Did he send you to warn me?”
The kid started, as if shocked. “No, man, somebody’d off me if it got out I warned you. But I owe you, like, for you partner—“ Trey’s eyes widened with fear. He spun and shot around the side of the building.
Brendan turned to see what had alarmed the kid. A black SUV went by, followed by a police patrol car. He hurried to his loaner, intent on following the SUV to see if it had a dented right fender. He couldn’t be certain the one last night had been black. It could have been any dark color. By the time he pulled out of the parking lot, the traffic light caught him.
Both
the SUV and police car disappeared, leaving him hedged in by other cars. He banged the steering wheel with his fist. If someone was watching the kid as the boy had thought, Brendan couldn’t visit his home and grill him. So that left him hanging. He was no closer to knowing who the hell wanted him dead or why.
Chapter Eighteen
Brendan couldn’t make sense of the tangled knot of mystery. Was Deirdre connected and, if so, how? Perhaps if he stepped back, learned more about her, that knowledge would shed light on the rest of the case. Nothing would convince him the two weren’t connected.
He’d decided last night that he’d consult Mark Staggs, a retired family friend who delved heavily into genealogy. Brendan had arranged to stop by in half an hour. Patting his pocket to reassure himself Deirdre’s list of family names and dates was there, he drove across town.
Mark held the door open for Brendan to enter. “Hey, don’t tell me you’ve caught the genealogy bug too?”
Maybe when hell froze over. “This is for a friend. Who knows, maybe I’ll find it contagious?” Brendan followed his friend down a hallway to his home office.
Mark gestured across the room to his computer. “Let’s go over here and I’ll show you how the research is done. You have your friend’s info?” He moved a second chair near the computer desk.
Brendan sat down and pulled out the sheet of paper. “This is as far back as she knows, but she needs verification for the names and dates here.” No need to tell Mark that he was the one who needed corroboration.
“Hmm, looks like an Irish town. Need the county to get to the parish records.”
“Ballymish is in County Galway, if it’s even still there.” Bored spitless, he watched as Mark darted from screen to screen. Brendan’s eyes glazed over and he yawned. Why would anyone voluntarily spend time doing this?
“Aha, there’s the first name.” Mark set the cursor on a name and date. “Look at that.”
OUT OF THE BLUE Page 12
