by Debbie Mason
Kitty complimented her grandsons on their choice of Christmas tree, suggesting that they move it a tad to the left to ensure the roaring fire they kept going this time of year didn’t dry it out.
Jasper frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” Kitty smiled faintly, then lifted a narrow shoulder. “It’s Evie. I feel horrible the town council voted against her. She’s done so much for the town, and she’s worked so hard to turn Holiday House around. I suppose it’s a blessing that her father and Noelle are no longer with us. It feels like the end of an era.”
Colleen waited for Kitty to say more, or at the very least for Jasper to. But all he did was gently kiss the top of her daughter-in-law’s head and say, “The pastry chef has made shortbread for tomorrow’s high tea. Let’s go and have a sample. It’ll help lift your spirits.”
“Lift her spirits? You need to do more than lift each other’s spirits by drinking tea and eating cookies. You have to be ready.” Frustrated with the pair, Colleen looked at the black cat sitting at her feet. “Simon, I need your help.” He was the only one who could see and hear her. Although her great-great-grandchildren also saw and heard her before aging out of the ability. Eight seemed to be the cutoff. “As Jasper doesn’t appear capable of seeing it for himself, we must alert him to the danger. Now that Caine has secured the office tower development, it’s only a matter of time before he makes his next move on the manor.”
Some people might think it odd she was asking a cat for help, but they didn’t know Simon. He was far from your average cat. Over the past year, she’d become convinced he was actually the family’s patriarch, William Gallagher. He had a lord-of-the-manor air about him.
Simon had arrived a week before Colleen died. They’d gotten off to a rocky start. Truth be told, she was a dog person, but he’d won her over.
Meow. He raised his white-whiskered brows and turned his head toward the grand staircase.
She was getting much better at understanding cat-speak, but she had no idea what he meant. Which she told him. He gave a chest-expanding sigh and then nudged his head at the grand staircase as though urging her to follow.
“You’re getting testy in your old age,” she said, hurrying toward the grand staircase after him. She didn’t know how old he was, but she’d noticed tips of silver peeking through his sleek black coat of late. Apparently, he took umbrage at her remark, sprinting ahead of her.
Being that it was the Monday after Thanksgiving, the manor was quiet, so the ding of the elevators opening on the second floor and the rattle of a housekeeping cart seemed overly loud.
“You’re lucky I didn’t run you over, cat,” a young woman said to Simon from behind the housekeeping cart. Her voice held the musical lilt of the old country and the disgruntled tone of someone whose life wasn’t going according to plan.
The redheaded girl with creamy skin was Colleen’s twenty-year-old great-granddaughter, Clio. She’d arrived at the manor a month before full of anger and attitude, looking for her father, Daniel, who had conveniently left town. He’d also left it up to them to break the news that he’d seen the light after his near-death experience this past summer and he was turning himself in to the Greek government for stealing artifacts he’d uncovered in a dig. He wanted to start over with a clean slate.
Which was all well and good, but Daniel had also failed to fulfill his promise to cover Clio’s school expenses, and the child couldn’t afford to continue her studies. Her plans to become an archaeologist like Daniel were now on hold. Her current plan seemed to be to make the rest of the Gallaghers pay for being related to her father.
“Perhaps she’ll get in the holiday spirit once the manor is fully decorated, Simon,” Colleen said with more hope than conviction in her voice.
She got a doubtful meow in response before Simon raced off toward the spiral staircase that led to the third floor, where the family suites were housed in the tower. He bounded up the wrought-iron stairs to park himself in front of the door to her old suite. Her great-granddaughter Theia resided there but would be moving out in a few short weeks. Theia and Marco DiRossi were getting married at the manor on Christmas Eve. Colleen was beyond thrilled. To her mind, there was nothing more romantic than a Christmas wedding.
“Now, don’t get maudlin,” she said, thinking that was why Simon brought her here. Theia was his favorite. “It’s not like she’ll be far.” The couple were moving into one of the winterized cottages on the estate.
Simon lifted his chin at the door as though she’d missed the point. She cocked her head, frowning at the sound of a man’s muffled voice coming through the closed door. It was deep and had the same musical quality as Clio’s. Colleen’s eyes went wide. Caine Elliot. He must have used the secret passageway to get to Theia undetected.
Her great-granddaughter had worked for Caine until last summer, when she’d learned she was a Gallagher. And despite his intention to steal the estate out from under them, they remained the best of friends.
Because Theia was a lot like her, Colleen believed her great-granddaughter was simply keeping Caine close to learn what he was up to. She scowled at the sound of their laughter. Theia was a far better actress than Colleen if that were the case.
“Be on alert, Simon. I may have need of Jasper.”
Colleen walked through the door and into her old suite, fit to be tied when she saw the handsome blue-eyed devil sitting as though he owned the place on a wingback chair near the roaring fire with a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Theia, I surely don’t,” she said to her great-granddaughter, who was sitting on the end of the four-poster bed sharing a drink with the man, though hers appeared to be water.
“Wicklow Developments was well represented, T. My attendance for today’s vote wasn’t necessary. Besides, I had a pressing matter in Boston that required my attention.”
“I don’t believe you. The reason you weren’t there was because you knew exactly how the vote would go, and you didn’t want to see what the council’s decision to take her home and business would do to Evie.”
“If I weren’t confident the council would decide in our favor, I would have been there. But since I was, my time was better served elsewhere.” He swirled the whiskey in his glass. “How did Ms. Christmas handle the decision?”
“I knew it. I knew that’s why you wanted to stop by. Admit it. You feel bad that you’re to blame for Evie losing everything.”
“I’ll admit nothing of the sort. I haven’t seen you in a couple months and thought, since I had some time to spare, I’d drive out to visit my best friend. And may I remind you that it was Ms. Christmas who brought up the parking bylaw to the council.”
“I know you’re right. And I’m glad to see you. I’ve missed you. But Evie’s worked so hard—”
“To scuttle the deal for Wicklow Developments? Yes, I’m well aware of that. And you seem to forget that less than a year ago you saw the benefits of relocating our East Coast division to Harmony Harbor from Boston the same as I did.”
“I know, but it’s different now.”
“Of course it is. Because you broke one of the most important business principles. You’ve allowed your emotions to cloud your judgment. Other than you forming a friendship with Ms. Christmas, nothing has changed.”
“Okay, let’s say that’s true. What would it hurt to talk to your architects and find a way to create the extra parking that doesn’t involve bulldozing Holiday House to the ground? The house and business have been in Evie’s family for a century. One hundred years, Caine.”
Colleen smiled. Her great-granddaughter hadn’t gone back to the dark side after all.
“I’m well aware of the sentimental attachment Ms. Christmas has to Holiday House. But seriously, I’m doing the woman a favor. From firsthand experience, I can tell you that the house is ready to fall down around her ears.”
“Trust me
, I’m well aware you have firsthand experience. I figured out you were the messenger. Which you know from my texts that you chose to ignore. But what I’d really like to know is what you were doing there in the first place?”
“I was trying to save the woman from herself. Evangeline Christmas is even more hardheaded than you. She doesn’t know when to quit or when to cut her losses, as evidenced by her unwillingness to even look at the offer I made.”
“You were pretending to be a messenger, Caine. Why couldn’t you just make the offer in person? You might have been able to convince her to take it if you had.”
He looked at her over the glass. “If you believe that, I have a lovely piece of property on Rikers Island to sell you. Come on, T, you know the woman would just as soon shoot me as have a reasonable conversation with me.”
Colleen would be tempted to do the same, but she found it interesting that he’d been making Evie an offer when, from what she’d gleaned from the staff, there’d been little doubt in anyone’s mind which way the council would vote. “So you have a heart after all, laddie. And not just where Theia is concerned.”
She settled herself on the bed beside her great-granddaughter. This conversation might prove fruitful after all.
“Can you blame her?” Theia held up her hand when he looked like he might protest. “I know it’s not personal for you, but it is for Evie. And it’s become personal for me too, Caine. Unlike you, I can’t keep my emotions out of it. Evie’s a good friend. I hate to see her hurt.”
“Then you should advise her to accept the council’s decision. And if you can get her to accept the offer I made in October, and tried to make again Friday, I will honor it. But she has until the end of the week to accept.”
“You’re worried what Emily will do if Evie tries to have the council’s decision overturned, aren’t you?”
“I am.” He took a deep swallow of his whiskey before saying to Theia, “It’s the reason I was at Holiday House Friday. As you know, Evangeline has delayed the project for months and cost us a good deal of money, but that isn’t the worst of it. A woman who’s one holiday away from going broke took us on and nearly won. She’s made us look weak, and our competitors smell blood. A punishable offense in my grandmother’s eyes.”
“Emily threatened Evie?”
He nodded. “I went there to protect her.”
“Max, the stray dog with fleas that ended up on her back porch. That was you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know he had fleas at the time. The back door was unlocked. Someone had been in there before me. The dog is cheaper than an alarm system and more effective.”
“And the black Mercedes that’s parked outside Holiday House twenty-four-seven?”
He sighed. “My uncle Seamus. He doesn’t take direction well. He was supposed to remain vigilant but not draw attention.”
Theia laughed.
“What’s he done?”
“He’s been flirting with Evie and her customers when he comes in to chat and to sample whatever she’s offering for the day.”
“Brilliant. So she knows he works for me and is keeping an eye on her.”
“Not at all. She thinks he’s a lonely old man who loves the holidays. So honestly, I’m a little surprised to hear he’s related to you, Mr. Scrooge.”
“I seem to remember you playing the Grinch to my Scrooge, so don’t cast stones just because your new best friend is Harmony Harbor’s Christmas elf.”
“You’re still my bestest friend, and don’t you forget it. I just wish I wasn’t in the middle of two people I care about. You know, if you’d just spend some time with Evie—”
He put his glass on the side table and went to stand. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
“Oh, come on, what could it hurt? You need to go out with a normal woman, not your usual A-list models and celebutantes.”
“I like my celebutantes,” he said with a grin, clearly teasing her.
Colleen sometimes forgot how close the two were. Until that moment, she’d also forgotten they owed Caine a debt of gratitude. He’d come to the family’s aid last summer. Though they wouldn’t have needed his help had his grandmother not hired an enemy of the Gallaghers in her bid to wrest control of the manor from them. Honestly, she didn’t understand what drove Caine.
“You’re a lost cause,” Theia said as she placed her glass on the nightstand and stood up.
Caine pulled his ringing phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, tapped it, then put it back in his pocket.
“Emily?” Theia asked.
He made a noncommittal sound as he lifted his jacket from the back of the desk chair.
“She must be thrilled the office tower is a done deal so she can focus all her energy on stealing Greystone Manor from the Gallaghers.” Theia crossed her arms, clearly as unhappy as Colleen about the prospect, which was a relief.
“Theia”—he put a hand on her shoulder—“I’d stop her if I could.”
“You’re CEO of Wicklow Developments, Caine. If you really wanted to stop her, you could.”
“You don’t understand. I—”
“No. I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can do this to my family. You say you love me. You say you’re my best friend, but—”
“Dammit, Theia. Don’t make this a test of my loyalty to you. I love you, but she’s my grandmother.”
“So that’s what this is about? Friendship isn’t a strong enough bond? I’d have to be a member of your family to warrant your loyalty.”
“You are my family.”
“Oh, I know that’s what you always say, but clearly that’s not the case. I guess it’s really true that blood is thicker than water.” Theia swiped at her eyes.
Colleen could tell her great-granddaughter’s tears bothered him. He opened his mouth, then turned away, shoving his fingers though his hair, clearly struggling with something. Moments later he said, “The Gallaghers don’t deserve blind loyalty from you or anyone else. My grandmother isn’t the villain in this story.”
“I don’t know how you can—”
“I can say it because I do know the story. When I say you’re my family, I mean it, T. I’m a Gallagher. I’m your cousin.”
Theia laughed. “Yeah. Right. As if I believe that.”
“Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth.”
With her mouth hanging open, Colleen looked from the lad to Theia, who lowered herself onto the edge of the bed to stare up at him. “What? How? I don’t understand.”
“My grandmother and Ronan Gallagher had a child together, my father. He was Ronan Gallagher’s illegitimate son.”
“But why—”
“I can’t do this now, Theia. I have to go,” he said, his phone ringing incessantly in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and frowned.
“Caine, look at me. This is important. I need to know what happened. I need to know why Emily is hell-bent on bringing our family down. And why doesn’t any of the family know about this?”
“Of course they know. Maybe not all of them, but I guarantee Ronan and Colleen did. Kitty too. I’ve tried to tell you, they’re not as perfect as you think they are. They have skeletons in their closets.”
“I don’t believe you. They wouldn’t deny their own blood. They must not have known about your father or you.”
“They knew.”
“Unlike you and your grandmother, I need proof before I condemn someone, and I know exactly where to find it.” She went to Colleen’s desk.
As shocked as Colleen was to learn Caine was a Gallagher and another wrong she had to right, even if it wasn’t of her own making, she was stunned when Theia removed the brown leather-bound book from the hidden compartment in the desk.
It was Colleen’s memoir, The Secret Keeper of Harmony Harbor. A book that contained the secrets of Colleen’s family and friends. Secrets that in the wrong hands could serve as weapons.
“Is that what I think it is?” Caine asked, looking
intrigued, which would have stopped Colleen’s heart if it hadn’t stopped already.
“Have you lost your mind, Theia? Put my book back and put it back now!” Colleen yelled in hopes her great-granddaughter would hear her.
There was something special about Colleen’s old room. It sometimes served as a conduit to the other side. If she put all her energy into it, she could sometimes make herself heard. Theia had heard her months before.
“If you think it’s Colleen’s memoir, then you’d be…Caine, what’s wrong?” Theia asked as the lad let out a groan while looking at the screen of his pinging phone.
“What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Evangeline Christmas has chained herself to the bulldozer on Wicklow Developments’ property to protest the council’s decision. The press has been alerted.”
“Emily?”
“What do you think?” he said, heading for the door.
“I’m coming with you.” Theia ran to the closet to grab her coat.
“Wait! The book. Theia, you need to put the book away!” Panicked, Colleen hurried after Theia to yell in her ear, but the girl appeared to be in a panic of her own and didn’t stop at the sound of Colleen’s shouted words. Rushing from the room with her coat in hand, Theia shut the door behind her.
Colleen hurried to the door and stuck her head straight through it. “Simon, get Jasper! Theia left my memoir out.”
They both turned their heads at the elevator’s ding, the door sliding open to reveal Clio and the housekeeping cart.
Chapter Four
Evie sat shivering in the dark, chained to a yellow bulldozer on the fenced-in lot beside hers. The smell of diesel and a hint of charred wood from the fire filled her nostrils. Beneath her jeans-clad bottom, the earth was as cold and as hard as the bulldozer at her back. Adding insult to injury, thick, wet snowflakes began to fall.
