When Irish Eyes Are Haunting: A Krewe of Hunters Novella Read online

  Then she curled into his arms again. She whispered that she loved him, more than she had ever imagined possible. He returned the words.

  “I love you more than life itself,” he vowed.

  For a moment, she stared down at him and the solemnity of his words seemed to encase them as if they were one.

  “I love your eyes,” he told her.

  “My eyes?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I was thinking of other things I love about you right now,” she said, laughing. And then she abruptly jerked.

  Somewhere in the castle, a clock was striking midnight. The sound seemed to reverberate through the stones in the walls.

  “Amazing the Karney family has survived so long!” Rocky said, laughing. “How the hell did they ever sleep?”

  Devin started to smile again, but then froze.

  He did, too.

  Along with the sound of the great clock striking midnight, there was another sound.

  It was like a cry on the wind, a wolf’s howl, a screaming lament. It was as if the wind roared and the sea churned and all came together in a mighty crescendo.

  It was a sound unlike anything Rocky had ever heard before, and looking up at his wife, like a fantastic character of fantasy herself, blue eyes diamond bright and wide, black hair a fan about her pale flesh, Devin spoke softly.

  “The banshee,” she said.

  Chapter 4

  Breakfast was in the pub. It was part of the “bed and breakfast” aspect of the castle. The “pub” didn’t turn into a “pub” until 11:30 a.m. It was then when it opened not just to those staying at the castle, but to visitors staying at other B&Bs or hotels or guest houses in the village.

  Some of those staying at the castle hadn’t heard the clock or the strange wailing sound that had seemed to shake the very stone. Some had, and most of them stopped by the booth where Devin ate with Rocky, Kelly, Seamus, and Brendan. Some were regulars for St. Paddy’s at Karney and had known Collum. They offered their sympathy to the family.

  And then asked about the wailing sound that had shaken the castle at midnight.

  “Ethereal—not of this earth!” and elderly man said.

  Devin saw a stricken look in Kelly’s eyes and answered quickly. “Ah, well, we heard it, so it was real and of this earth!” she said lightly.

  “It’s the sound of the wind when it strikes against the cliffs below on certain nights,” Seamus explained.

  “Hmph!” one woman told them. “It certainly gives credence to those tales told by Gary the Ghost!”

  “Wicked cool!” said their teenaged daughter. And the two smiled and chatted and they walked on to their own table.

  “’Wicked cool?’” Brendan asked.

  “Aye, brother!” Seamus said, nodding. “They must be from New England. It’s an expression used there. Ask me niece, Devin there!” he said, lifting his coffee cup to her. “She’s a wicked lovely creature, she is!”

  “That’s kind, Uncle Seamus. Thank you,” Devin said.

  “Wicked cool,” Brendan repeated. “Wicked lovely. I like it!”

  “But do you believe it?” Rocky asked him quietly.

  “That Devin is a wicked lovely creature? Indeed, I do!” Brendan said lightly.

  “Thank you, again Brendan, but that’s not what he means,” Devin said, smiling gently.

  Brendan was still and thoughtful for a minute and then he looked at Rocky. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “The sound came the night before the morning the housekeeper found Collum dead.”

  Kelly reached out a hand to cover her uncle’s.

  “It is the wind tearing against the cliffs, Uncle. I know it,” Kelly said. She didn’t believe it at all, Devin knew. She just wanted her father and her uncle to believe that she wasn’t unnerved or frightened.

  “Either that,” Rocky said, “or someone’s mechanical idea of a prank.”

  “Mechanical?” Seamus asked.

  Seamus, like Brendan—and as Collum had been—was a big man, broad-shouldered, tall, and with a full head of snow-white hair. They had been built ruggedly, Seamus had told Devin once, because rugged was their heritage. Maybe because they hadn’t come from the city, but they’d all been born at Castle Karney, a place as wild as the jagged cliffs that led to the tempest of the Irish Sea.

  They’d come from a long line of warriors, he’d once told her proudly—except that now, of course, he prayed for nothing but peace around him, in Ireland, and about the whole of the world.

  “I’ve been thinking about the sound all night,” Rocky told them. “I got up and took a look around the tower—it really might be some kind of mechanism.”

  “Looking around the tower,” Brendan said. “So that’s what you were doing after you and Devin came to my room and you left Devin there to guard me through the night ’til you returned!”

  “I just kept you company,” Devin said.

  “And nothing happened, thank the good Lord!” Seamus said, crossing himself.

  “And had the banshee been real…” Devin murmured.

  “Bizarre that the sound came directly at midnight. Nature isn’t good at planning noises at a precise time. Anyway—it remains to be seen,” Rocky said.

  Brendan looked at Rocky and nodded sagely. “Ye’re here to investigate, and that’s a fact. Honeymoon, my arse!” he added, looking reproachfully at Seamus.

  “Ach, now, brother. ’Twas Kelly who called on the two of them now,” Seamus protested.

  “It is our honeymoon. Really,” Devin told him. “But, of course, it’s true. What we do is investigate.”

  “There’s nothing like meeting the family,” Rocky said politely, causing them all to laugh.

  “Ah, yes, meet the family!” Brendan said.

  “I mean it; it’s wonderful to be here,” Rocky said.

  “You’re a good niece!” Seamus told Devin. “And you,” he added, nodding to Rocky, “you seem to be a fine man for my niece.”

  “Thank you,” Rocky said.

  “Investigate with my sincere blessing!” Brendan said. “I knew my brother well. I never saw such a look on his face. Something odd is definitely afoot, and not even Gary the Ghost really believes in the tales he tells. We love them all, we do. We love our ghosts—and our pixies and leprechauns and so on. But…something is afoot.” He offered them a grim smile. “Wickedly afoot! Collum, just in ground not quite a full two weeks, visitors a-flooding the place, and the festival on the way. We’ve got to know. It would be a hard enough thing, losing m’brother, as it were. But, to wonder like this…’tis painful.”

  “I’m so, so sorry, Brendan!” Devin said.

  She noticed the way he looked over at Kelly—as if seeing her there pained him as well.

  And then she realized that he was worried about her.

  “You and Kelly and Uncle Seamus are going to be fine,” Devin said, determined.

  He quickly glanced her way, looked down and nodded.

  “Uncle Brendan tried to get me to go home,” Kelly said. “He called us for the funeral and to come—and since, he’s tried to make me go back to the States.”

  “I shouldn’t have had you here,” Brendan told Kelly and Seamus.

  “Collum was my brother, too, Brendan,” Seamus said. “Just because I’m an American now, doesn’t mean he wasn’t my brother. Or,” he added softly, “that I’m not still Irish or that Kelly escapes that, either.”

  “Kelly escapes that?” Rocky said, looking perplexed. “I’ve some Irish in my background—and I love it,” he said.

  Devin shook her head. “You’re talking about the prophecy—which does not say that something will happen to every Karney. Stop it. We’ll find out if something is or isn’t going on. If it is, I don’t believe it’s the banshee. Is there anyone who held a grudge against Collum or the family?”

  “Something is going on,” Kelly said flatly, looking hard at Devin. “You heard the banshee wail.”

  “We heard something,”
Rocky said firmly. “A banshee? That’s questionable.”

  “You don’t have any belief in our myths, legends, and ways?” Brendan asked.

  “Oh, I do. I just don’t believe that what we heard was a banshee,” Rocky said.

  “You found something?” Seamus asked him.

  Rocky shook his head. “No, but I didn’t go banging on anyone’s doors and I can’t say that I know the castle well enough to really explore.”

  “We can fix that!” Kelly said excitedly. “I mean, sounds bizarre, but it is our castle—you can go wherever you choose!”

  “Thank you. I’d like to make a few calls this morning, and then I’d very much enjoy a private tour by one of the masters—or the mistress—of the castle,” Rocky said.

  “What will you do first?” Seamus asked, looking at Rocky. Devin lowered her head, not offended that Rocky would be their go-to man—and not her. Her mother had always told her that Ireland was now racing toward a world beyond discrimination with all haste, but when her mom had been young, there had been separate rooms in most pubs for women.

  Sexual discrimination died hard in many a place—even in the States, she knew. But, in the Republic of Ireland, divorce had only been legal since 1997, which, of course, wasn’t really discriminate on either side—just hell for people who discovered they simply couldn’t live together. Old ways died hard, especially in a small village like Karney.

  “We’re going to see your doctor and coroner,” Rocky said. “And talk to him about Collum’s death.”

  Brendan sniffed. “He acts all big shot—he’s a country doctor, and that’s a fact—I don’t care about all his high-falutin’ medical degrees. He’s a doctor, a fair one, but it’s just that we’re small here, and so, he’s the coroner, too.”

  “But, he has a solid medical degree, right?” Rocky asked.

  “He has medical degrees,” Brendan said. “Went to school in Dublin—and over at Oxford. And we have a sheriff and a deputy sheriff, too, but, seems to me, they all want the obvious and that’s it.”

  “Brendan, I know you’ve been asked, but tell me what happened the day before Collum died, and then when you discovered his body,” Devin said.

  “Ah, the day before,” Brendan murmured, drumming his fingers on the table. “We’d been to the church—you know our church has a relic, a bit of bone, said to have belonged to Saint Patrick himself?” he asked, distracted by the idea and smiling.

  “That’s—great,” Devin said, not sure how to respond.

  He nodded. “And, as you know, I think, for years and years—centuries even—St. Patrick’s Day was mainly a holy day here. Parades and celebrations and all have become part of the festivities in later years. So, of course, we’re traditional here. Early in the day, at least. There’s a fine parade in the village with Father Flannery carrying the cross and a host of his altar boys walking along, the choir singing in their place and all. We’d been to see the good Father due to all that, plotting the parade course and all. And we have a big show out here—just outside the walls, where the old fire pit is—with dancers and singers from St. Patrick’s of the Village. He’s a fine fellow, Father Flannery, he is. Anyway, so we met with him. Came back, reviewed the list of vendors who we’ve given space to within the walls for the fest—it will start tomorrow and go through St. Paddy’s—and then I went to pay bills and Collum spent time arguing with the Internet people. We ate dinner together at the pub. Collum went up to his room and I stayed down here talking with some guest, filling in some historical gaps, that kind of thing. Didn’t see him again until I saw him—dead. The housekeeper was in his room, screaming her head off. I came running and saw what she saw. Called the emergency number and they alerted the sheriff and Dr. Kirkland. They told me to try to resuscitate—and I would have tried, God help me, he was my brother—but he was dead. Stone cold dead.”

  “You couldn’t have revived him,” Rocky said.

  “No,” Brendan said softly, looking into space. He shrugged. “The central tower was alive with activity, official cars coming and going—and the hearse, coming and going.” His eyes fell directly on Rocky’s again. “I just want the truth—and justice for Collum. And…safety. Safety for Castle Karney.” He hesitated again. “For my brother and myself, and most importantly, for Kelly. If there’s something out there, ’tis better to know. And…”

  “And?” Devin prompted.

  “If it was the banshee, and it was me she wailed for last midnight, then see to it that you get yourselves and Seamus and Kelly out of here as quick as possible,” Brendan told him.

  Rocky nodded, meeting Brendan’s eyes. “There’s one thing I need for you to do today,” he told them firmly, looking from Kelly to Brendan to Seamus, who all sat across the booth from them.

  “What’s that?” Kelly asked.

  “Stay together—go nowhere alone. Be in the public eye, if possible. Can you promise to do that for me?” Rocky asked.

  “As you wish,” Brendan said.

  He looked then, Devin thought, like a lord of the castle of old. Strong, judicial, fair.

  And yet…

  Convinced of his own power as well.

  “Seriously, Brendan, you three stay together. Do not be alone,” Devin told him.

  “Of course, lass. As you say,” Brendan told her. “And what then? Will the two of you be staying with an old man in his chambers night after night?”

  “If that’s what it takes,” Rocky said firmly.

  “On your honeymoon?” Brendan asked.

  Rocky laughed.

  He and Devin looked at one another.

  “If that’s what it takes,” they said in unison.

  Chapter 5

  The village was charming.

  There was one main road edged by buildings in soft shades of beige and taupe with thatched roofs. Most were entered directly from the road—called Karney Lane. There were winding streets that wove at odd angles off into lightly rolling land beyond and those, too, were filled with homes and businesses. They stretched out into the distance until the houses and buildings became further and further apart and rich, green farmland where sheep and cattle grazed was reached.

  The church and the village hall were at the center of Karney Lane, and Dr. Kirkland’s office was just two buildings down from the church.

  The receptionist who met them at the front was a thin-lipped, lean, and dour woman; she wanted to know their business and was disgruntled that they didn’t have an appointment.

  Devin was about to get angry; Rocky brought out the charm.

  She finally said that she’d check with Dr. Kirkland, but she wanted them to know, he was weary of hearing that a banshee had killed Collum Karney.

  Devin had been expecting a man in his fifties, perhaps, white-haired and typical of a charming country village. After meeting his receptionist, she thought he might be an old soldier—as rigid and grumpy as his receptionist.

  She was mistaken.

  Dr. Kirkland was a good-looking man in his thirties or early forties—polite and mystified, but happy to give them a few minutes of his time.

  “American reason here, I hope!” he said.

  “We hope it’s reason,” Rocky said. “But, of course, we’re here with the question you’ve surely answered a dozen times. Are you certain that it was a heart attack? You performed an autopsy?”

  “Ach!” Kirkland said, shaking his head with weary impatience. “Everyone wants to make something of nothing. Am I certain? Collum Karney died of a heart attack, plain and simple. I’d been telling him to watch the red meat and start more moving about for years. His poor arteries! They were as clogged as could be.”

  “I heard he died with a look of horror on his face,” Devin told Kirkland.

  Kirkland waved a hand in the air. “All the talk about ghosts and banshees a-wailing! Good lord, ’tis charming we have our legends and history.” He paused for a moment to grin at her. “And a history that pretty much so—as you Americans might say—sucks with i
nvasions and battling, but, ’tis nonsense that he was frightened to death by a vengeful ghost! Why would a ghost seek vengeance on old Collum—a descendant?”

  “Yes, why would one?” Rocky said. “But, did you perform an autopsy?”

  Kirkland stiffened at that. “I did not cut into the man. I’d been treating him for years, warning him for years. I know a heart attack when I see one.”

  “Heart attacks can be brought on,” Rocky said.

  “You mean that sound? Wolves or the wind,” Kirkland said, disgusted. “And you think a man like Collum Karney would be frightened by the sound? You dinna know the man. He was a giant of a fellow—with clogged arteries!”

  We’re going to get nothing from him, Devin thought. And they didn’t have the authority to demand an autopsy.

  Brendan Karney, however, did.

  Rocky smiled pleasantly and thanked Kirkland for his time.

  “A pleasure, and welcome to the village. Everyone comes to Dublin—it’s nice you’ve come further,” Kirkland said. “We do get a fair amount of visitors now, because of the castle. We’d have more—if the Karney family allowed for a themed nightclub or something of the like. I’m afraid they’re a wee bit too filled with Karney pride—nothing that might mar their great history. It is wonderful history in a land invaded one time too many. Ah, forgive me, one of you is a relative, right?”

  Devin explained her family connection and Kirkland told them, “How fine! Well, as I was saying, we’re on the map now—what with the castle being a select destination these years. But, still, the castle, she has only ten rooms for let, and it’s the tourist eager to learn history who comes rather than the tourist longing for a few nights at the Temple Bar pub section in Dublin. Spicing it up to current times might help, don’t you think?”