Zach Flynn was sleeping deeply when his cell phone rang. What might have proven to be a tragedy, the case of a missing boy, had been neatly and happily solved in a matter of days. Sam, the ten-year-old, had been angry. His mother had remarried and had a baby, and the baby had been getting all the attention. He hadn’t been kidnapped, despite the open window and the mess in the room. He’d staged the event and gone to hide out in his father’s old hunting lodge. When Zach had found him—tracking him down through his emails to an Internet buddy in China—he’d been ready to go home. No heat, running out of food—it hadn’t been half the fun he had expected. All had worked out well. Sam’s mother and stepfather had been so relieved that they’d welcomed him back with tears and enough love to make him believe he was as cherished as the new baby.
And so, with the “real” business—the private investigations firm he ran with his brothers Aidan and Jeremy—in good standing, Zach had planned on spending a chunk of December on his side business, checking out some of the musicians hitting the Boston clubs. Years ago, he’d begun investing in music studios, producing promising acts on his own label and watching with pleasure when they were picked by the major players. It had made a nice break from his job with the Metro police in Miami, and it was still a good way to wind down from his day job.
He was exceptionally good with computers, and had become their three-man firm’s tech guy for his ability to hack into all kinds of systems. His street instincts were good, too, though, and he found his life fulfilling, even if not every case ended as well as Sam’s had.
Then again, some of their cases would have made a statue smile, like the time Mrs. Mayfield, of the Mayfield Oil Group, had hired them on for a fantastic sum to find Missy.
Missy was a cat.
Easily done. Missy was found with six little puffs of fur, and the Flynn brothers were all offered kittens.
Music was his love, though. Music was something that pulsed in his blood and echoed in his mind, not to mention the way it eased and cleansed his soul. It was something beautiful when he saw so much that was ugly.
So he’d claimed December for himself—a chance to get back into that other world where no one went missing and no one died.
Last night, after arriving in Boston, he’d started relaxing with a vengeance. Not that he got drunk, because he didn’t drink to excess, having learned long ago that the temporary high wasn’t worth the loss of control. But he’d run into a bunch of old friends at a pub on State Street and downed a few Boston lagers. Still, he was instantly aware at the sound of his ringer, and he answered the phone automatically. “Flynn.”
“Zach, oh, Zach, thank God you’re there. Eddie has disappeared, and now Dad is in the hospital over in Ireland. I was going to fly over there, only Bridey said I shouldn’t, but Dad—”
“Kat?” he asked, cutting across her uncontrolled flow of words.
“Yes, it’s Kat. Oh, Zach, it’s awful, you have to help. We don’t know what’s going on, and my father is all alone over there with her. You have to go over and see what’s happening, Zach. I need your help, and so does Dad.”
“Okay, slow down and start at the beginning. What’s wrong with your dad?” Zach asked, coming thoroughly, instantly awake. Sean O’Riley had been one of his father’s best friends. Even after his dad had passed away, though Sean had been in Rhode Island and the Flynns had been in Florida, Sean had been there, like an uncle, ready to offer a hand to Zach and his brothers. Then Zach had gotten involved with Kat. Not romantically, but she had the voice of a lark, so he’d given her some help professionally, put a band together for her, and now she was starting to soar. She was like a long-distance little sister, most of the time.
“She did something to him.” Kat went on frantically. “She’s a monster with a bad dye job and veneers over her fangs.” She paused for breath and managed to calm down a bit. “Bridey said you should go over there right away and see what’s going on. She’s afraid for me to go. You know how she is, worrying that something will happen to me. Probably afraid I’ll wind up in jail for killing Amanda. Zach, please. You have to go and bring Dad home safely.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. There are excellent hospitals in Ireland, and I’m sure—”
“He needs to be here. So we can all be with him. Please. I’ll hire you. Zach, I’m scared. Eddie is missing, and I’m afraid he’s dead, and now someone’s after Dad, I’m sure of it. It’s got to be her. You know I’ve never trusted her, and now I think she’s really done something.” She had worked herself into a frenzy again and practically sobbed out the last words.