Deadly Gift

He drove onto the wharf. It was a true winter’s day. The sky was gray, but then again, it was growing late. Darkness would come soon enough.

 

He parked the car, and his muscles quickened. There was a light on in the office. It was a just one of the desk lamps, but it cast enough of a glow to show him that someone was there.

 

He exited the car, reaching to his waistband for the gun he always carried now. He approached the office door from the side, moving with speed and stealth.

 

At the door, he hesitated, then tried the knob.

 

It wasn’t locked. He pushed the door open with a foot, used it as a shield and shouted, “Freeze!”

 

To his complete surprise, Caer jumped and turned to face him. She was in the process of going through Eddie’s desk, but she froze, as commanded, and stared at him.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked her.

 

“Looking.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For whatever everyone else has missed,” she said.

 

He let out a sigh of relief, clicked the safety back on and slid the gun back into his waistband, then closed the door behind him.

 

“Have you found anything?”

 

“Poems,” she told him.

 

“What?”

 

“Poems. He liked to write poetry. Well, they’re more like ditties, really. Funny little poems. Here, listen. ‘One if by land, two if by sea, oh, I’m so happy, it’s all me, me, me.’”

 

Zach arched a brow. “Deep,” he said.

 

Caer shrugged. “He seemed to like to write them. Look, there’s nothing on the computer. I mean, there’s lots on the computer—but you’ve already found it. This is what I think. I think Eddie found something on Cow Cay, but he moved it.”

 

“What makes you think that?” he asked, realizing that she might not yet know that a man had been murdered out there sometime last night.

 

“I’m not certain, but I think these poems were his…his way of leaving something behind. Insurance, maybe.”

 

“Take them. We can go over them later. We should get back to the house.”

 

“All right.”

 

She gathered up the poems, which had been written on all kinds of paper, then shoved into a file folder.

 

“How did you get in?” he asked her a few minutes later, as they were driving back to the house.

 

She hesitated, and he wondered if she was about to lie, to tell him that the door had been open when she’d arrived.

 

“I picked the lock,” she admitted.

 

“You did a good job. I might not have known.”

 

She shrugged.

 

Suddenly he veered the car to the side of the road and slammed it into park. She stared at him, startled.

 

“Who are you, Caer? And what are you doing here?”

 

“I told you—”

 

“Everything you’ve told me is a bunch of horseshit. Who are you?”

 

“Caer Cavannaugh.”

 

“All right, let me try again. Who and what are you—really?”

 

She stared at him, her eyes hard. “You’ve accepted that I want to save Sean’s life. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

 

He shook his head. “No. A man was murdered out on Cow Cay last night, the man I hired to watch over the area where we were digging.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Murdered?”

 

“Presumably. We found a lot of blood, but his body has disappeared, just like Eddie’s.”

 

“The birds,” she murmured. “It’s starting.”

 

“Who are you working for?” Zach demanded.

 

“An Irish agency,” she said after a moment.

 

“The name of it, please.”

 

“It’s just referred to as the Agency,” she said.

 

“That’s bull.”

 

He saw her take in a deep breath, then she said, “All right, Zach. You want the truth? Here it is.” She practically spat out the words. “I’m a banshee. They refer to us as death ghosts. I guess that’s an appropriate label. We are ghosts, and we do deal in death. But anything you might have heard that’s frightening or bad about banshees isn’t true. We come to ease the burden, to be a friend. We help people cross over.”

 

She spoke so seriously.

 

He felt his temper soar. “That’s the biggest pile of crap I’ve ever heard,” he told her angrily. “And you know what? Gloves are off. I wanted to trust you. I did trust you. Hell, I started falling in love with you. But you need to tell the truth. If you’re some kind of Irish secret service, spit it out. I’ll get on your credentials. Governments share information. My oldest brother has contacts almost everywhere.”

 

Her expression had gone implacable. “Do what you have to do, Zach.” To his amazement, there was a quaver in her voice.

 

His fingers were locked on the wheel. “People are dying. Tell me the truth.”

 

“I just told you the truth,” she said dully, looking ahead. “Why is this so hard for you? Can’t you just accept that I’m here to save lives, and…and can’t you give me what time we have before I have to go?”

 

He stared back at her. God, she was beautiful. He wanted to draw her into his arms. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t give a damn if she was an alien from planet Zardov, he just wanted her, wanted a life with her, waking up to her eyes every morning, to the feel of her close against him. He wanted to grow old with her.