Authors: Heather Graham
“No need. He’s going out with Kat. They’ll be gone at least an hour. He wants to do some Christmas shopping. It seems the doctor gave him the okay to get out a bit, so long as he doesn’t overdo things.”
“Yes. He said Sean’s doing well and can start easing back into day-to-day life.”
Zach nodded. “Sounds good.” He smiled. “So come on. Let’s go to Eddie’s house and see if we can find out what’s going on.”
She had to smile back. “We? You mean you trust me? Really?”
“Not really. Just where Sean is concerned. So, are you coming with me?”
She nodded, trying to not to let herself feel bad that he still distrusted her. “Aye, that I am. Thank you. I’ll grab my coat.”
Eddie’s house was only a couple of blocks away. It was a rustic nineteenth-century saltbox, small, but big enough, and with plenty of charm. A huge leather sofa faced the fireplace, and a reinforced rolltop desk held his computer. He apparently liked TV; his plasma screen was huge. Caer noted that he had dozens of DVDs, virtually all of them documentaries on the American Revolution, sailing, treasure hunting, archeology and the like.
“He did love history, didn’t he?” she noted.
“He sure did.”
Zach went straight for Eddie’s computer. “I talked to Sean. He and Eddie have spent years studying their favorite Rhode Island native son together. His name was—”
“Nigel Bridgewater,” Caer supplied.
Zach looked at her in surprise. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Sean told me about him when he was in the hospital in Dublin.”
“Ah,” Zach said, and turned back to the computer.
“Just look around and see what you can see,” he told her.
“All right.”
“The police were here, so I don’t think you’ll find much of anything, but it’s worth a try. I’d love to find out exactly what he’d been up to before he went out.”
Zach was already scrolling through data as he spoke, so she started looking more carefully through Eddie’s books and DVDs. Most were on the Revolution. Some were on the Civil War, and some were on history that was closer to home for her. There was a biography of the first president of the Irish Republic, Eamon de Valera, and another on Brian Boru, and the Vikings in Ireland.
“Nigel Bridgewater was something of a northern Swamp Fox,” Zach said, talking absently as he worked. “He knew the northern waters like the back of his hand. He’d been a Royal Navy man at one time, and then he opened a print shop…. He took all kinds of letters and documents up and down the East Coast, and he even carried payroll at times. Legend has it that not long before his capture, he met with a French ambassador before the French were fully committed to the American cause, and received a large sum in gold, silver and jewels to be delivered to the Continental Congress. The British knew about him for years, but he eluded them time and time again. He was young—only twenty-six—when he was finally apprehended. And he was caught because his ship—a fast moving sloop too light to be heavily armed—was outgunned in Rhode Island Sound. The ship went down in flames, but the British captured him. And they were furious with him. He’d made a fool of them too many times. He was taken off the ship before it could sink, brought down to Boston, given a sham of a trial and hanged on the spot. They say he was tortured first, but that nothing the British did could make him talk. He died without telling them anything they wanted to know. He knew the names of American spies throughout the Colony, and even in Britain, but he never revealed a single one.”
“How extraordinary,” Caer said. “What courage. But if he was caught and hanged, what’s the big mystery?”
“Most people believe that the treasure and his last dispatches went down with his ship in the Sound. The ship has never been discovered. Of course, it’s deep out there, and cold, but they’ve found the Titanic, so it’s possible that one day his ship will be found, too. The thing is, some people say that he was afraid he might meet up with the British on that particular trip. They believe that before he set out he hid the treasure and all the letters he was carrying somewhere around Rhode Island. If so, though, there’s no record of it. His men went down with his ship, or were killed outright in the fighting.”
“Do you think it’s possible that Eddie figured out where the treasure was?” Caer asked.
“I don’t know. I think he might have found some kind of clue, at least. On his calendar, at the office, he made a note on Christmas Day about a gift for Sean. He wrote ‘Sean will know.’ So I’m assuming Eddie found out something Sean wanted to know, and that Eddie’s gift was going to be that knowledge.”
Caer had been trailing her fingers over the rows of books and DVDs. She paused suddenly, staring at something stuck between two books.
Frowning, she tugged at it.
“Zach.”
“Yeah?”
“I think it was more than knowledge that Eddie intended Sean to have,” she said.
“Why?” he asked, turning around, then getting up to join her.
She showed him what she had found: the remnants of a sheet of wrapping paper and a courier receipt.
Zach’s fingers brushed hers as he took the receipt. “It’s insured, but it’s coming parcel post,” Zach said.
“What do you think he sent? Not just information, right?”
Zach looked at her. “No, definitely not. Not if it weighed twenty-five pounds, five ounces.”
“W
e’re going to have to wait until it arrives,” Sean said pragmatically, when they showed him what they’d found.
“But it’s…in the system somewhere,” Caer said, looking hopefully at Zach.
He shook his head, smiling. “I doubt that even Aidan’s FBI buddies can break into the postal system, Caer.” He shook his head. “Leave it to Eddie. He would trust the mail.”
“I can’t even get the electric bill half the time,” Sean said.
“Oh no, you mean this could be lost in the mail forever?” Caer said.
Sean laughed. “Probably not. But it
is
frustrating. We’re just going to have to wait until it gets here, then we’ll know what he sent.”
“It should come soon,” Zach reasoned.
“It’s almost Christmas, don’t forget. They’ll be rushed off their feet,” Sean warned.
“Even so…” Zach said thoughtfully, figuring the time since Eddie had disappeared.
Still not quite a week.
“Even so. Yes, hopefully, we’ll see it soon,” Sean said.
Sean yawned and stretched. “Well, I think I’m off for a nap. I told Kat I’d spend some time with her tonight. She wants to try out a few new songs on me.” He looked over at them, and Zach realized they were both staring at Sean with concern.
He sighed. “Look, you two, you can’t watch me all the time. Please, I’m not a fool. I’m taking everything very slowly and very carefully, all right?” He shook his head. “It’s like I’m the king or something—pretty soon you’ll be thinking I need a food taster.” He groaned. “Oh, God, stop looking at each other like you think that might be a good idea.”
Caer shifted in her chair, looking away silently, leaving it to Zach to reply.
“Sean, it’s just that—” he began.
“Maybe whoever killed Eddie is trying to kill me,” Sean said flatly. At their shocked looks he added, “We all suspect that, and hell, it’s better just said out loud. At least, between the three of us.”
“Where do we go from here?” Caer asked.
“We wait. There’s nothing else to do,” Sean said.
“I’m getting back into Eddie’s computer,” Zach said. “He knew something, and he’d been somewhere. I have to figure out what and where.”
“Let it rest for the night,” Sean said. “Mull things over. You can get back to it tomorrow, when you’ll be fresh.”
“But—” Zach started to protest.
“I’m telling you. Let it go for now. You’ll be better off. Now,” Sean said, “you two need to go out. Shake all this off. The mind, like the body, works better when you move it around a bit.”
“Out?” Caer said. “We’ve just been out.”
“No, no. I mean
out,
” Sean said. “Have dinner somewhere. Go listen to some music. It’s a beautiful day, it’s supposed to be a beautiful night. It may get up to forty-five. I’ll be with my daughter, who has decided that she has to stick to me like glue. Not that I don’t love to be her sounding board. It makes a father proud, and I don’t want you around, stealing my thunder. So I’m ordering you both, get out for the night.”
“But—” Zach began again.
“Amanda is having dinner with the women from the garden club. She won’t be back until late herself,” Sean said.
Zach looked at Caer. She was staring at Sean, and she seemed to be blushing.
“It’s all right by me,” Zach said. “Caer?”
“I have to say, I don’t seem to be working very hard,” she said quietly.
Sean laughed. “In my mind, you’ve gone above and beyond.”
She still hadn’t looked at him, Zach thought, just as she finally turned to him.
“I guess I’ll go change, then,” she said.
Zach smiled slowly, then laughed. “Sean, are you going to tell us where we should go, too?”
“Sure. American Pie,” Sean said. “It’s a new place up on the highway. And after dinner, stop of at McCafferty’s. They have a jazz quartet up from Louisiana. Give Caer a taste of the country along with her meal.”
“All right,” Zach said doubtfully. “I still don’t like the idea of leaving—”
“I’ll set the alarm, and I’ll be with Kat, plus Clara and Tom are right out back. And I’ll phone you if anything comes up. All right?”
“All right,” Zach said. “Just one more thing.”
“What now?” Sean demanded impatiently.
“Just how dressy is this place?”
Caer was glad she’d gone shopping in Dublin. She wasn’t even sure why—except that she’d been leaving for the holidays—but she’d purchased a long-sleeved, cobalt-blue slinky cocktail dress and appropriately delicate heels to go with it. Once she was dressed, she played with makeup, washed it off, then heard a knock at her door.
It was Kat, whose only response was, “Wow.”
Caer blushed. Again. “Thanks.”
“Are you crying?” Kat asked her, perplexed.
“Crying? Oh. No, I just washed my face. The makeup wasn’t right.”
“Well, sit, I’ll give you a hand.”
Caer sat.
Kat went to work. A few minutes later she stepped back to survey her handiwork. “You look perfect,” she said.
“Thanks,” Caer said, and blushed yet again.
“And you really don’t know it, do you? That’s why you blush so much.” Kat laughed suddenly, a touch of wickedness in the sound. “I have to tell you, I loved it when you walked in here with my dad and Zach. I could just see how much it burned Amanda to have you around.”
“Kat,” Caer said seriously, “what makes you so certain that Amanda is…after your father?”
“My dad is in his seventies,” Kat said flatly. “And Amanda spends half her day in front of the mirror. All he is to her is a meal ticket. I think she’d cut my heart out, too, if she could.”
“But she wouldn’t inherit all your father’s money,” Caer said.
“No. My father believes in his flesh and blood. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t been so brilliant with business, though. But the thing is, he did what he loved and still does. He just happened to do it better than all the rest, him and Eddie.”
“What about Cal?”
“Cal’s good,” Kat said. “And Marni is great with the books. I’m sure they’re both sweating this whole thing, though. My dad really is that company. With Eddie gone…” Her voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure Cal is praying that Dad gets well soon, and that nothing else happens.”
“Do you think something else is going to happen?” Caer asked her.
“Don’t you? Isn’t that really why you’re here?”
“I’m here to see that your father takes his medications, and to be around in case there’s an emergency with his heart or his blood pressure,” Caer said, wondering if there was anyone here who
didn’t
think they knew why she was really there.
“Yeah, right,” Kat muttered.
“What?”
“You’re working for Zach, aren’t you?”
“Pardon?”
“The Flynn brothers brought you in. Don’t try to tell me differently.”
“No, really, that’s not true,” Caer said.
“Whatever. I’m just hoping you and Zach really do have a thing going, because it’s time for him to find the right person, and you’re either an amazing actress or one of the most ‘right’ people I’ve met in my life. You care about him, I know. I’ve seen your eyes when he doesn’t know you’re watching him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Then again, I guess a lot of guys look at you that way.” She laughed. “You are refreshing. Marni loves a mirror, and I think Amanda worships at one. But they can’t hold a candle to you. You just walk into a room and it’s game over. Plus you’re younger than Amanda.”
“You’re younger than Amanda, too,” Caer told her, grinning but perplexed.
“Yes, but I’m my dad’s daughter. She hates me, but she’s not jealous of me the way she is of you. Or Marni. She’s always hanging on my dad. She told me once that she lost her father when she was really young, and that’s why.”
“Maybe that
is
why.”
“I don’t think so. She flat out flirts with him. Honestly? I think she’d have an affair with him in a heartbeat”
“What?” Caer asked, shocked.
“Don’t worry. My father would never do anything like that. He doesn’t get all hot and bothered over a pretty face. That’s why we were all floored when he fell head over heels for Amanda. My mom has been dead a long time, so it wasn’t anything like that. It’s just that…he was barely dating, and then…Amanda. But watch Marni when she’s around my dad. I’m surprised Amanda hasn’t thrown a fit yet and tried to get Dad to fire Cal just to get rid of Marni. You’ve seen how she treats Clara, but I promise you, Tom and Clara will outlast Amanda, and so will Cal and Marni. My father believes in loyalty. Anyway…I have Dad covered tonight. You two go out. And stay out late. Oh, and fool around if you get a chance,” Kat teased. “Dating the boss is exciting, don’t you think?”
“Honestly, I met Zach for the first time when he came over to Ireland,” Caer said.
“Whatever you say. Now go. You look like a million bucks.”
Caer stood, shaking her head. Maybe it was all right if she left Kat thinking she worked for Zach. She certainly didn’t seem able to convince her otherwise.
Kat caught her hand, dragging her out of the room just as Zach was coming down the stairway.
He’d donned a suit, and Caer felt her breath catch. He was gorgeous. He was fixing a cufflink when he looked up, saw her—and froze.
“Hey, get a room, you two!” Kat said. “You both clean up real nice. Now get out of here.”
“We’re going, we’re going,” Zach assured her. “Miss Cavannaugh?” He made a slight bow, directing her toward the kitchen and the way out. In the garage, he opened the car door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat.
She felt awkward. This was like…a date.
They were going out.
And anything could happen.
She sat stiffly in the car as he drove. She found herself staring at his hands where they lay on the wheel. Musician’s hands. His fingers were long, and his hands were neither too rough looking nor too manicured. They had a strength about them, the kind of strength that made her shiver down to her bones.
He flashed her a glance. “Are you all right with this? You look tense.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
He grinned. “I’m not evil.”
“I promise you, I’m not evil, either.”
His grinned deepened. “Evil or not, Miss Cavannaugh, you really are quite stunning.”
“Like Kat said, we both clean up well.”
He laughed. “You’re stunning even when you don’t clean up. Not that I’ve seen you running around in the mud or anything.”
“Only in the sand,” she said.
“That’s a taboo subject for tonight,” he told her.
“Really?” She turned to him and smiled skeptically. “I know you. You’re already planning your next move.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it
is
what I do,” he said. “I find the missing. I solve the mystery. It’s the family business.”
“Right. So you have a plan, even if you’re not going to talk about it with me. You’re not going to sit around just waiting.”
“I’m going to find out what Eddie found out. There. That’s it in a nutshell. Now, let’s move on. Tell me more about yourself, Miss Cavannaugh.”
“There’s not that much to tell.”
“Oh, I have a feeling there’s a massive tome behind you.”
“You first, then, since you seem to think I’ll be talking for the rest of the night.”
“Okay. My parents died when I was in high school. They were great. My dad could be tough, but my mother was just as strong. Irish. Dad’s family went way back. He was a cop. He and Sean had been friends for years. We all spent time together when we were growing up. Aidan’s the oldest. He joined the military, and they paid for him to go to school so he could keep the three of us together until we were all legal. We all love music, and we all went into law enforcement. A little over a year ago, we inherited a plantation down in New Orleans. Aidan, his wife and their baby live in it now. And you’ll meet Jeremy soon, I imagine. He’s down in Salem, Massachusetts—he just married a woman who lives there. Let’s see, I own some small music studios. I saved up and invested in the first one, and that one made enough for the second one, and so on, and I used some of the money I made to start a music label. I love stuff that’s new and exciting—or old but done in a new and exciting way. A few of the artists I’ve picked up—like Kat—have been bought out by major labels, so it’s been a very nice sideline. That’s it. I was in forensics when I was a cop, but I think you know that. And now I work with Aidan and Jeremy. It’s a great gig. Now you,” he said pointedly.
“Aidan is the oldest?” she asked.
“Yes, I told you that. Your turn.”
She looked ahead. “Isn’t that the restaurant?”
“Yes, but you’re not getting out of this.”
He drove into the valet lane. A few moments later they were walking into what appeared to be an original colonial building. It was whitewashed, boasted grand pillars and was decorated with American flags.