Midnight Sacrifice (14 page)

“Stop laughing.” Danny got into his car and flipped through the article.

Conor snorted. “Sorry.”

“How can you irritate me eight hundred miles away?”

“It’s a skill. Now what’s up?”

“The Winston Museum of Art and Archeology in Bangor was robbed last night,” Danny started. “The only objects stolen were part of a Celtic History exhibit.”

“Is there a list of what was stolen?”

Danny skimmed the text. “No, but the thief bypassed more valuable pieces to lift the Celtic stuff. The journalist speculates about it being an inside job, based on the assumption that if there’s no forced entry, the thief had a key.”

“You know what happens when you assume. Criminals know lots of clever ways to get into buildings.”

“But they usually go for stuff that’s easy to fence.” Danny always had. He waited for the slap of guilt that usually followed
memories of his dark teen years, but all he felt was a nudge. “Celtic artifacts are not easy cash.”

“What are you thinking, Danny?”

“That the police confiscated Nathan’s collection of Celtic objects back in December. Maybe he needs stuff.”

“For what?”

“No idea,” Danny said. “But it’s weird, and weird shit gives me hives. It makes me worry about Jayne.”
And Mandy.

“How far is Bangor from Huntsville?” His brother’s wheels were turning.

Danny checked his map app. “Couple of hours by car.”

Conor was quiet for a minute. He’d be at the bar at this hour, but from the lack of noise behind his voice, he was probably sitting in the tiny back office with the door closed. Though on a weekday between lunch and dinner, the tavern would be fairly quiet. His siblings would be preparing for the evening rush. “You really think this museum robbery could be connected to Nathan’s disappearance?”

Through the windshield, Danny scanned the quiet street. Solid homes, mature trees, and well-tended yards should give him a case of the warm and fuzzies. But the bright sun shining down on Huntsville couldn’t chase away the bad vibes buzzing through the fresh air. “I can’t figure out how Nathan could possibly have pulled it off, but I do. Don’t forget he’s had four months to get his act together. Something bad is going to happen here.”

And there it was. Danny had said it. He hadn’t experienced this sense of impending doom since he’d left Iraq, where people were trying to blow him up every minute of every fucking day.

“How are you?” Conor asked the hard question. “Maybe you need to come home for some more therapy.”

Danny thought about it. “It’s not post-traumatic stress. This is different. The best way I can explain it is that my PTSD is like
a nightmare, and I’m wide awake. There’s danger here. How are things there? How’s Jaynie?”

“She’s holding up.” The heavy breath on the other end of the line signaled he’d hit the mark. Conor was giving in. Jayne did a damned good job of putting on a happy face, but behind the mask, fear lurked. The three Sullivan brothers had a pact to take care of their sister. “What do you want me to do?”

“Can you go to Bangor and see what’s what?” Danny started the engine. “I’m still nosing around here.” He told Conor about the disappearance of the fisherman and his son.

“So, you burned down Reed’s house, and a couple of people vanished?”

“Yeah. That sums it up.”

“I can clear my schedule tomorrow and head to Maine the day after. Does that work for you?”

“Thanks, Conor.”

“Be careful, Danny. It would kill Jaynie to lose you.” Conor tossed Danny’s strategy back at him.

“Is Reed there?”

“Yeah. Let me get him.”

Danny apologized for setting Reed’s house on fire, but his almost-brother-in-law wasn’t angry, just worried. They sorted through a few insurance details, and Danny told Reed about his meeting with the detective. Reed wasn’t happy but thanked him for the information. He punched
END
.

Danny hadn’t exaggerated to his brother. He’d simply verbalized the persistent itch between his shoulder blades. There was no need to convince Reed that Jayne was still in danger. The former cop’s instincts were in line with Danny’s.

The state police detective could rationalize all he wanted, but Danny knew in his soul that the danger still centered in
Huntsville. The quaint little town, with its postcard-perfect views, was the hub for something evil.

Mandy pushed the lawn mower. The smell of gasoline and fresh-cut grass filled the air around her. Happy to be outside for a change, she hummed the last song she’d heard while doing the lunch dishes.

Jed pulled into the parking area and got out of his truck. Honey jumped down from the passenger seat, raced to the house, and barked at the back door. Bill let her in and knelt to give her a hug. The dog’s tail wagged on overdrive. Mandy warmed as she watched the happy greeting. Jed stomped toward her, and her feel-good moment deflated. The huge scowl on his face didn’t hide the gauntness or dark circles. Did he sleep at night? He shouted something that Mandy couldn’t hear over the engine. She shook her head at him, hoping he’d go away. He didn’t.

With a heavy sigh, she shut off the mower. The rumbling cut off abruptly.

“I said,” Jed yelled, then lowered his voice, “why are you cutting the lawn?”

Mandy shot him an
isn’t it obvious
look. “Because it needs to be cut.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“Seriously?” Mandy crossed her arms. “This is hardly beyond my physical ability.”

“You have enough stuff to do.”

She couldn’t argue with that, but the inn’s lawn wasn’t that big. She and her mother had taken turns mowing it weekly for as long as Mandy could remember. Why was Jed suddenly stepping
in? “Well, the grass was high after all the rain and that warm spell last week.”

“Here, I’ll take over.” Jed reached for the mower.

Like he wanted to take over everything. Mandy was tempted, but she knew Jed. If she let him do this, he’d be back tomorrow to do more work. Physically, he could barely keep up with his own place and care for his dogs. He couldn’t possibly maintain the inn as well. Mandy blocked him. “I’m halfway done. I’ll finish it up.”

“This isn’t the kind of work you should be doing,” he protested. “You aren’t cut out for manual labor.”

“Oh, really.” Mandy propped a hand on her hip. “And what should I be doing?”

Jed shifted his weight as if he knew he was about to say something wrong but just couldn’t stop himself. “You know. Woman-type work. Cooking and cleaning and stuff.”

“So, women are only good for housework?”

“Not all women. Your mom’s sturdy enough.” Jed’s gaze dropped to his work boots. “But you’re…”

Mandy tapped a boot toe on the grass. “I’m what?”

“Delicate.” Jed swallowed. “And you’re such a good cook. You belong in the kitchen.”

Mandy glanced down at her thin but muscled forearms and fingers. Running the inn was hard work, inside and out. She took a couple of calming breaths. “I know you don’t mean that exactly the way it came out.”

Jed’s eyebrows scrunched together. “But I do.”

“You want to go down to the gun range and see who belongs in the kitchen?”

He didn’t answer, but annoyance flashed across his face.

“And why don’t you ever volunteer to help with the cooking and cleaning?” she asked. Jed’s horrified look said it all. He was her best friend, but he was a Neanderthal when it came to gender
roles. Mandy glanced at her watch. It was nearly time to put out the afternoon refreshments. “Thanks for the offer, Jed, but I can finish the lawn. It feels good to be outside.”

“Dammit, Mandy. You’re only saying that because you think I’m weak.”

“I didn’t mean that.” She didn’t, though the reference to her superior shooting skills had been an unnecessary poke to Jed’s sensitive male pride. His injury had upset his expectations in life. He might never be able to return to his career as a hunting guide.

“You didn’t have to.” His head swiveled as Danny’s car parked next to his truck. Jed gave Mandy a hard look. His gray eyes bored into hers. Something dark lurked behind his gaze. Jed was usually serious and quiet. When they were alone, he could also be fun in his own gruff way. He was never hostile toward her. Could her mother be right? Was Jed jealous of Danny? Had she been wrong all these years? She searched her memory. They’d known each other since first grade. Mandy’s father had left. Jed’s mother ran out on his dad soon after. Mutual sadness and loneliness created a strong bond between them as children, but Mandy couldn’t remember treating Jed like anything but her best friend. No other relationship had ever occurred to her. “Fine. Mow your own damned lawn. I’m going home.”

He stopped at the house and called for his dog. The lab followed him to the truck but kept glancing back toward the house.

With a quizzical glance at Jed’s retreating back, Danny crossed the grass. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” Mandy pulled off her gloves. The lawn would have to wait until later. “I was just about to put out lemonade and cookies.”

Danny followed her to the back porch. She left her grass-stained work boots by the door and slipped into her sneakers before going inside. At the sink, she scrubbed her hands and
forearms, then donned an apron. She retrieved the pitcher of homemade lemonade from the fridge and set it on the counter next to the platter of cookies she’d prepared earlier. Danny leaned on the wall, and she tried to ignore how comfortable he looked in her kitchen.

Right on time, her brother burst into the kitchen. Bill liked to get his cookies before the guests appeared. “Are they ready?” He spotted Danny and slid to a stop.

“They are,” she answered.

Bill gave Danny a worried look and inched backward toward the door. Mandy poured them both glasses of lemonade. She smiled at her brother. “Want a cookie?”

Her brother’s gaze shifted from Mandy to Danny. Watching Bill struggle, Mandy’s heart ached.

“Oh, Bill. I almost forgot. I have a present for you.” Danny shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “If you don’t like presents, then don’t worry about it.”

Curiosity kept Bill rooted in place, his big body taut with indecision. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s from Reed.” Danny set his glass down. “Let me run to my car and get it. Good thing I left it in the trunk. Don’t go anywhere, OK?”

Danny hurried out of the kitchen. Mandy put a few cookies on a plate and slid it in front of her brother, but Bill didn’t notice. He stared at the door. When Danny returned, he held a box in his hands, bright and shiny with bright-red wrapping paper. Curling silver ribbons cascaded over the sides.

Bill inched closer, eyes locked on the present. “It’s from Reed?”

“It is.” Danny set the box on the counter. “He’s going to marry my sister, so we’re almost related.”

“Reed sent me a present?” Bill’s eyes brightened with disbelief.

“Yes, he did.” Danny was biting back a grin.

Bill stared at the package. “Wonder what it is.”

Mandy’s heart pinged. Wood sculptor Reed Kimball used to live in Huntsville. Reed had been one of her brother’s only friends, a pseudo father figure, before Reed had fallen in love with Danny’s sister and moved to Philadelphia to live with her.

Danny nudged the gift toward Bill, who forgot his distrust of strangers and plucked it from Danny’s hand.

Danny grinned as Bill took his prize to the other side of the room. He bent over the package, ripped the wrapping paper off, and opened the box. Reverently, he lifted a wood carving of a Labrador retriever.

“It looks exactly like Jed’s dog, Honey. I always wanted a dog.” Cradling the small statue in both ham-sized hands, Bill looked up at Danny with the guileless eyes of a child. “Thanks for bringing me this.”

“You’re welcome.” Danny reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Do you want to call Reed and thank him?”

“I can call Reed?”

“Sure, why not?” Danny dialed and handed the phone to Bill.

“That was sweet of Reed.” Mandy wiped her moist eyes.

“Reed’s a good guy.” Danny leaned a shoulder on the wall. “If he had any idea how much Bill missed him, he would’ve called. Bill could’ve called him anytime.”

“Sometimes it’s best to let things go that aren’t going to come back. I’m going to put the snacks out in the dining room.” With a backward glance at her brother, who now seemed perfectly comfortable with Danny, Mandy retreated to her chore. She laid out the lemonade and cookies, then stocked the sideboard with ice, glasses, plates, and napkins. When she couldn’t find anything else to keep her away from the kitchen—and Danny—she went back in. The room was empty.

Movement drew her gaze to the window. In the backyard, Danny was starting up the mower. She went out onto the porch, determined to tell Danny his help with the grass wasn’t necessary. But it wasn’t Danny pushing the mower across the yard. Bill gave her an excited wave as he cut a fresh swath in the grass.

Mandy’s heart swelled at her brother’s simple joy. Who would have thought he would enjoy yard work? Her eyes flickered to Danny. Still watching Bill, Danny walked across the yard and joined her on the porch.

“Do you think it’s safe for him to do that?”