In the Arms of the Wind (26 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Boyett-Compo

BOOK: In the Arms of the Wind
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“So I hear you’re getting hitched,” Jack Barnes said as Danny merged onto I-95. They were in an unmarked car Barnes had requisitioned for their trip up to Townsend.

“You heard right,” Danny acknowledged.

“I guess congrats are in order.” Barnes sat with his elbow out the opened passenger window, the warm air coming in blowing his thin brown hair. “How’s Mally taking it?”

“I’d rather not discuss my family,” Danny said, clenching his teeth. Sometimes Barnes was nosier than an old woman.

“Just asking,” Barnes said, and turned his head to watch the passing scenery. His cell phone rang and he reached down to draw it out of its holder at his waist. “Barnes.”

Danny glanced at his partner but Barnes shook his head—signifying it wasn’t a police-related call. He tuned out what the man was saying and thought of the anger he’d seen flashing across Moirrey’s pretty face. The woman looked as though she could have driven a butcher knife through his heart this morning at the breakfast table. He had no intention of allowing that to happen again. He and Kaycee didn’t need to be around the vindictive bitch. He decided to call out to his condo to see how close to being finished the workers were so he and his lady could go back home as soon as Barnes was through with his own call.

“I said I got it,” Barnes snapped, and then ended the conversation. He cursed under his breath as he stuck his phone back in its holder.

“Amanda?” Danny inquired.

“I’d rather not discuss my family,” Barnes mimicked Danny’s remark.

Danny’s lips tightened and he kept his mouth shut. Relations between him and Barnes had been strained lately and he couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t time to ask for a new partner. He reached for his phone and thumbed in the number to the condo.

“Yeah, it’s Gallagher. How’re they coming with my apartment?” he asked. He listened, a muscle working in his jaw. “And how long is that going to take?” He drew in a deep, annoyed breath then let it out loudly. “Yeah, well, tell them I said to hurry it up. I want to get back in by the weekend.”

Barnes laughed when Danny hung up. “Remember when I had to have my house fumigated for termites? Me and Amanda and the boys had to stay in that lousy motel for three days. I thought I’d go crazy cooped up like that. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like being in the same house with my ex-mistress and my current sweetie. Knowing Mally, that must be hell, my man.”

“I think she’s got a fucking screw loose,” Danny commented. “The older she gets, the meaner she is.”

“She’s only that way because of you,” Barnes told him.

Danny looked over at his partner. “Thanks, I needed that.”

“You know it’s true,” Barnes stated. “She wasn’t that way when her brothers and I used to hang together. It wasn’t until you dumped her that she got prickly.”

Grinding his teeth, Danny returned his attention to the highway. He couldn’t really argue the point because he knew his rejection of Moirrey had done some damage. Just how much he didn’t know, but he knew he hadn’t been the entire cause of her transformation. She had been diagnosed as having bipolar disorder long before he ever started dating her, but he had found out the hard way one night.

“My sister is bipolar,” Tim Murphy, the oldest of Moirrey’s ten brothers, told Danny in the emergency room that evening. “She refuses to take her lithium because she doesn’t like the way it makes her feel. When she goes off the meds, she does stuff like this.”

Stuff like that had been torching Danny’s car. The GTO had been a total loss and Danny had suffered minor burns to his hands trying to put out the fire before it could spread. As he sat on the gurney getting his wounds bandaged, Tim had come in to beg him not to press charges.

“My parents are going to take her over to The Chancel in Louisiana so they can straighten her out. She needs help, Danny, not jail time.”

“Just keep her away from me, Tim,” Danny had asked. “I’m tired of all the nasty phone calls at three in the morning and her keying my goddamned car—not that I have to worry about that anymore, I guess.”

“Dad will replace your car,” Tim assured him. “How does a brand-new Trans Am sound?”

Tim’s father owned the local Pontiac dealership so it wouldn’t be a hardship to provide a new car to their daughter’s ex-boyfriend.

“Okay, I guess,” Danny said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tim said, heaving a sigh of relief. He put his hand out to shake Danny’s then drew back, blushing. “Sorry, don’t guess that’s an option right now, huh?”

No, Danny thought as he passed a big orange Schneider semi. The change in Moirrey hadn’t been entirely his fault although in moments when he was being honest with himself, his jilting her certainly hadn’t helped matters.

But as he had told her brother, the intrusive late-night phone calls, the threats, the dead rats left in his mailbox, the dog shit smeared on his windshield, the words
bastard
and
prick
scratched deeply into his car doors—all the things she’d done when he’d broken it off with her had been the rancid whipped cream on a piece of moldy pie. Her wild mood swings, extreme possessiveness, frenzied sexual attacks on him that had left scratches and bruises on his body, and bizarre actions had finally become more than he could take, and he had ended their two-year relationship to her screaming at him that he’d be sorry he dumped her. She’d accomplished that by torching his beloved GTO.

Now nearly twenty years later, she was still punishing him for leaving her.

“Mally was a sweet girl until you fucked her over,” Barnes said.

“Yeah,” Danny said. “A real sweet girl.”

* * * * *

Xavier Gallagher had sent a limo over to pick up Kaycee because she had asked to speak to him in person. She didn’t want prying ears to hear what she surmised about her future sister-in-law. On the trip out to the secluded Gallagher estate, she stared out the window, thinking of what she would say.

The old man was in the rose garden, deadheading the prized specimens for which he cared so lovingly. In a large wicker chair on the blue fieldstone patio, under the latticed shade of a huge pergola, his daughter-in-law—Danny’s mother—sat sipping a mint julep.

“Nice to see you again, Kaycee,” Maeve said. “Congratulations again on the engagement. May I see the ring?”

Kaycee was not surprised Danny’s mother knew about the ring and walked over to extend her hand to the older woman.

“Oh my,” Maeve said, turning Kaycee’s hand so the diamond caught an errant shaft of sunshine filtering through the latticework ceiling. “My son has exquisite taste in jewelry.”

“That set the little bastard back a few grand,” Danny’s grandfather commented, looking over Maeve’s shoulder.

“I believe this young lady is worth every red cent,” Maeve declared. She let go of Kaycee’s hand.

“Excuse us, will you, Maeve?” Xavier asked politely as he pulled off his gardening gloves. “We’ve a bit of business to discuss.”

“Yes, I heard you were going to take over the running of Rosie Adams’ shop,” Maeve remarked. “I’ll be sure to send all my friends your way.”

“I would appreciate that, Mrs. Gallagher.”

“Call me Mom, dear,” Maeve said as she got to her feet. “You’ll be my daughter soon enough.” She gently embraced Kaycee then walked away gracefully, continuing to sip her mint julep.

“Just so you know, lass. That’s not a privilege she allows Moirrey,” Xavier told Kaycee.

“Then I’m honored.”

“Maeve was like me that night at the dinner. We took your measure and gave you our seal of approval. Didn’t Daniel tell you as much?”

“Yes sir.”

“Sit,” the old man invited, taking another wicker fan back chair, wincing as he took his seat, leaning his ever-present cane against the chair arm. “You said it was imperative we meet. This isn’t about the antiques shop though, is it?”

“No sir.” Kaycee took a deep breath. “It’s about Danny’s safety.”

“Something close to your heart, I take it.” Gallagher was watching her intently.

“I love your grandson very much. I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t.”

“I’m not so sure he’s as safe as you think, sir.”

The old man steepled his blue-veined hands together. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” she answered. “I practiced to myself all the way over here but now it seems so…” She flung out her hand. “So prejudicial.”

“Prejudicial against what person?” he asked politely in his thick brogue. “It is a person, ain’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Kaycee lowered her head. “It’s against Moirrey.”

“Ah,” Xavier said, and thrust out his long legs to cross them at the ankles. He frowned sharply and reached down to rub his right knee. “You believe she might have had a hand in what happened at the docks?”

“No sir. I think that was someone else, but I don’t think it was the Malones.”

A thick white brow elevated. “Oh, may I ask why?”

“I believe the bomb can be attributed to the Malones, but I don’t think it was meant to kill Danny. Scare him, intimidate—maybe even hurt him—but not kill him. The shooting down at the boat was an assassination attempt.”

“By who?” the old man asked, both eyebrows elevated now.

“By your son Johnny.”

The eyebrows came down sharply to give the elderly man a thunderous look. “You think John tried to have his brother murdered?” At her nod, in a harsh voice that brooked no hedging he demanded to know why she thought that a possibility.

“Because Johnny is jealous of how both you and his wife feel about Danny,” she replied. “He doesn’t love Moirrey, but it is insulting for him to have her be in love with his brother. If Danny were to die, Johnny would have you and Moirrey all to himself.”

“He doesn’t want that viper-tongued chit,” the old man stated.

“No, but pride won’t allow him to let the matter go.”

Xavier thought about that for a moment then looked out across his beloved garden. “You think Moirrey is responsible for Rosemary’s death because Daniel was humping her.”

Kaycee winced at the vulgar word. “Yes sir, that’s exactly what I think. She would have access to men her husband might use for such things. I don’t know if Johnny suspects her. Danny doesn’t.”

“Daniel lets his emotions dictate his reasoning at times. He’s always been that way. Hell, all three of my grandsons are that way! Even the priest can be a jackass when it comes to listening to his heart.”

“What do you think?” she pressed. “You must have considered the possibility that Moirrey might be involved.”

“I knew she was the minute I heard Rosie’s fingers had been cut off,” the old man grated. “That’s something a jealous woman would do.” He turned his head around so he could lock gazes with her. “I know exactly who it was who killed Rosie and sooner or later Daniel will put the pieces together and realize who he is too.”

“Someone within your—ah—organization?” she asked.

“You don’t need to know that,” Danny’s grandfather snapped. “You don’t want to know.” He continued to massage his bad leg. “If you’re worried about Moirrey turning her craziness on you, don’t. You are very well protected, lass.”

“I’m not worried about me,” Kaycee said. “You didn’t see the look on her face this morning at breakfast. She looked like she could have killed Danny. I don’t want to take the chance she might hire someone to do it for her.”

Xavier waved a dismissive hand. “She’d never risk losing him. Trust me on that. Hurt him? Aye, she’s more than capable of that, but that sick mind of hers needs Daniel in her world. She believes he will eventually come back to her.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“You and I know that, lass,” he told her with a smile. “Don’t be fretting over Daniel’s safety. I’ve got eyes on him and I’ll have a talk with John just to be on the safe side. I’ll let him know should another attempt be made on Daniel’s life there will be hell to pay. John does not want to get on my bad side, believe me.”

Kaycee heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you,
Daideo
. I’m grateful.”

“Now help an old man up and let’s go see what we can find in the kitchen. I’m skin and bones now,” he said with a twinkle, hooking his arm through hers.

* * * * *

It had been a trap but they didn’t know it until the bullets came, shattering the windshield, blasting out the back passenger window, tearing into Barnes’ side of the car and ripping him to shreds. His body jumped as though attached to a puppeteer’s strings as the bullets tore into him. Danny shoved his door open, dove to the ground, rolling as quickly as he could toward the only cover close enough to protect him—a stack of concrete blocks. He fumbled at his waist for his service revolver as the dirt kicked up around him. Putting a trembling hand to his forehead where something dripped into his eye, his fingers came away stained with blood and he knew he’d been grazed.

“You’re a dead man, Gallagher!” a man shouted. “Just like your fucking partner!”

Through the open door of the loaner car, Danny could see Barnes’ lifeless body lying slumped against the passenger door. There had been an explosion of blood as Barnes was killed and it dripped from the headliner, ran down the dashboard and plopped onto the floor mat. The top of Barnes’ head had been blown off and brain matter clumped on the cop’s headrest.

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