Amanda might do well by becoming a widow. She wouldn’t have access to all of Sean’s fortune, because of Kat, but she would be better off than she had been going into the marriage.
But Amanda had nothing to gain by murdering Eddie.
There had to be something else. Something he was missing.
He kept returning to Eddie’s research. And Sean’s. Over the years, they had both gone on and on about Nigel Bridgewater.
He waved to Marni and Cal as they made arrangements to take the men sailing around the bay and headed out, telling him to lock up when he left.
And then his thoughts went back to the Revolutionary War and the missing patriot treasure.
Bridey had come down with something. Clara fussed and made tea, toast and soup. Sean’s primary care doctor actually made a point of coming out to see her, and he prescribed an antibiotic. Bridey decried the attention being given to her, but she seemed to like it, as well.
Kat plumped up her pillows and sat with her, reading. Caer popped in to see her, too, then went downstairs for lunch, since Amanda had joined her husband in the dining room. Amanda was completely charming not only to Sean but to her, then left for a pedicure. Zach returned to the house in time to enjoy some of the cod, peas and parsley potatoes Clara had prepared for the meal.
With Zach there, Caer excused herself to sit with Bridey. When Caer arrived, Kat went down to spend some time with her father, and Caer realized that she and Kat had somehow formed a silent team.
One of them was always watching out for Sean.
They were both determined that Sean had to be protected—Caer because she was open to the possibility of danger and Kat because she was certain Amanda was nothing short of evil personified.
Bridey had her eyes closed when Caer sat down at her side and took her hand. She remembered how Bridey had accosted her that first night in the kitchen. She had convinced Bridey that she was there only to protect Sean, but she knew Bridey was still suspicious of her, just as Zach was, even though neither one of them could have said what was behind the feeling.
“You know, there are all manner of stories out and about,” Bridey said, and Caer realized that the old woman had opened her eyes and was looking at her.
“It’s said, you know, that a banshee can be granted human form. That she can know again what it was like when she was flesh and blood, if she is sent to watch over one who is not intended to die.”
“That must be nice for them,” Caer said lightly.
Bridey was smiling. “They feel as they once felt. For in taking on human form, they are once again cursed with human emotion.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” Caer asked.
“No, not entirely. But sometimes it hurts to feel,” Bridey said softly. “Of course, some emotions are genuinely ugly.”
“Well, life is good and bad, isn’t it? And we need the ugly to be able to see the beautiful, do we not?” Caer said.
Bridey squeezed her hand. “Are you here for me?” she asked.
“What do you mean? I’m sitting here with you. Or do you mean, did I come from Ireland to be with you? I came with Sean, remember?”
Bridey’s smiled deepened. “Child, I haven’t gone daft. I mean, are you here for me?”
“I…”
Bridey stared hard at Caer, then shifted her gaze to a point over her shoulder. Caer turned quickly and saw that Zach had come into the room.
To her surprise, she felt vulnerable. Whatever he had overheard, she doubted it would mean anything to him. What bothered her was that she kept hearing Bridey’s words about emotion and how it could hurt.
And in fact it did hurt.
She had been fascinated by him from the start. And as she had come to know more about him, she only liked him more and more. His eyes, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the color and texture of it. She liked the movement in his face when he flashed a grin, and she loved the tone of his voice. His walk. The kindness and affection that touched his features whenever he looked at Bridey. His respect for others, his patience. His intelligence and sense of responsibility. The fact that he was clearly a man who would do anything for the people who mattered to him.
She was attracted to him. She wanted to touch. To feel.
To know all the vitality and heat that were part of him, to hear him speak words of passion to her as he moved against her in the dark.
“What’s this I hear? You can’t get sick before Christmas, Bridey,” he said, coming over to the bed and planting a kiss on her forehead. “We have to get you over this thing right away.”
Bridey laughed, but her laugh became a cough. “Here, take a sip of water,” Caer said, quickly rising to help Bridey with the water. Zach was next to her. Touching her. It was as if she could feel his heartbeat. He breathed, and she breathed in time with him.
She set the water down when Bridey had finished, and quickly backed away.
“I’m all right,” Bridey assured them both.
Zach looked at Caer with concern, voicing a silent question.
“The doctor has been in, and she’s taking an antibiotic,” Caer said.