Winters & Somers (26 page)

Swinging around
the back of the house, they crept in through the small back room that was used
as a laundry for all seven flats in the building, into the main hallway, and up
the stairs. Cíara's heart was thumping madly and once more she was glad of
Winters' solid presence, this time ahead of her and between her and whatever
lay ahead.

She muttered a
curse as she fumbled with the keys, and Winters took them from her, holding the
jingling keys quiet in his big palm as he inserted the right key into the lock.
It opened with a contained
click!
And they slipped inside.

At the same
moment a dark figure came out of Cíara's bedroom, holding a small torch
shielded in one hand. The other hand was rifling through the meager contents of
Cíara's jewelry box,

“You dirty
bollox! Did you really think you could get away with this!” she roared,
launching herself forwards. She was caught in strong arms and flung backwards,
only saved from a fist in the face by Winters' intervention as the big man put
himself between her and the Diamond Darling.

There was a loud
thud as the two men crashed to the floor, Winters grunting when the old wound
in his leg streaked pain as he hit the floor. Then Cíara saw the Diamond
Darling turn the heavy mahogany jewelry box into a weapon, slamming it against
Winters' temple.

Cíara flicked on
the room light to see Winters lying dazed on the floor as the slight, black
clad figure stood over him preparing to land another blow. Her vision blurred
with grief and fury at the thin line of blood on Winters' face and she launched
herself at his attacker.

“Take your
miserable junk!” The intruder screamed, tossing the contents of the box in
Cíara's face as he retreated towards the back of the flat.  She went down on
her knees beside Winters, pulling his head into her arms.

“My God,
Winters, are you dead? Please be breathing – I didn't mean all those horrible
things I said,” she muttered, rocking his prone body. And rejoiced in the
unbelievable sense of relief as his eyes opened.

* * *

Winters was dead. He knew he
was dead, because he was in heaven, his head cushioned on the breast of an
angel. An angel who as calling his name, with tears in her eyes. An angel who
said she loved him and regretted all the evil things she'd wished on him…an
angel who looked just like…Cíara?

            Reality hit home.
Winters sat up with a suddenness that made his head spin.

            “You're all right? You
gobshite, I thought you were dead!” The angel yelled.

            Winters clutched his
head. “Please don’t shout,” he tried to speak softly, but his own voice echoed
loudly in his head. Then a dark figure sprinted from the back of the flat,
making for the only door after a fruitless search for an exit.

             Cíara jumped up.
“We've got to go – he's getting away.”

            Winters swore as
reality flooded back into his consciousness. He staggered to his feet, head
reeling, and for an awful moment he thought his injured leg would not hold his
weight. Cíara was ahead of him, barreling through the open door.

The Diamond
Darling, the thug who'd thumped her grandmother and stood
her
up, was
not going to get away lightly. But she had to admit it was comforting to have
Winters bounding along behind her. For a moment there, when she'd thought he
was dead, nothing else had really mattered. Not even revenge on that lying pond
scum Wallace.

            “Hey, Buddy, look where
you're going…”  Smokey's words were cut off with a loud oof! as the diamond
thief shoved him aside on the narrow passageway. But Small Eddie was right
behind and grabbed the fleeing figure with a roar.

            “Nobody pushes my
friends around like that, Mister. Say you're sorry!”

            “Small Eddie, hold onto
him!”

            “I'm sorry!” came the
desperate voice of a thief struggling to escape. Small Eddie looked up at Cíara
and Winters as they tore down the stairs. For a dreadful moment she thought
he'd let his captive go. “Small Eddie, he hit me!” she yelled.

            Outrage flitted across
Small Eddy’s usually laid back features. “You hit this lady? You good for
nothing…” and he tightened his grip on the struggling thief's collar, shaking
him like a terrier with a prize rat. The black headgear slipped off, showing
Anton Wallace's red and furious face.

            It was all over. Except
for one missing piece.
Where was Mary Margaret?

Panicked, Cíara
called her friend’s name and emerged from her hiding place in a tiny hall
closet and, disheveled and furious, and proceeded to give Wallace a piece of
her mind.

            “What's going on here,
causing such a commotion?” Granny Somers demanded as she was dragged down the
hallway by The Dog, who sensed trouble and promptly sank his teeth into
Wallace's leg.

            Winter's caught Cíara's
eye, and returned her grin. He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Garda
Bill O'Malley's cell phone number.

“Bill? Can you
get over here to Cíara's place? We've got a burglar.”

Bill whistled.
“The Diamond Darling?”

Winters was
grinning as he replied.  “Yes, I think that might be the one. And you'd better
get a move on – I'm not sure how long I can keep Cíara and Mary Margaret and
Granny Somers from killing him...” 

Everything
happened in a blur after that.

Bill arrived
with full Gardaí back up and arrested Anton Wallace – and almost arrested

Granny Somers, Small Eddie, Smokey,
Margaret Mary and The Dog for obstructing police – they all wanted a piece of
the Diamond Darling.

Next came hours
of questioning at the police station as Winters and Cíara, in separate
interview rooms, explained how they had caught one of Dublin’s most notorious
thieves of modern times.

Then there was
the waiting, as police in Ireland and in South Africa connected the dots to
discover who the Diamond Darling really was. It turned out he was a former
druggie friend of the real Anton who had seen his opportunity to use his
knowledge of the Wallace family and of diamonds to get into the confidences of
wealthy upper crust people and steal a fortune.

Cíara got a
phone call from Mr. Walters, full of praise for her detective work, along with
a self-serving suggestion that he had in some way pointed her in the right
direction. She bit her tongue on a scathing reply, and the man told her he would
be by to see her and offer her some honest detective work through his agency.

“That’s nice,” Cíara
told him sweetly. “Do make an appointment, though – our telephone has been
ringing off the hook since the news media got hold of the story.”

She smiled when
she put the telephone receiver back in its cradle as Walters spluttered.

She couldn’t
wait to get back to the apartment and tell Winters all about the agency’s new
prominence. Between the hours spent with the police, Cíara doing reassuring
visits to Granny Somers and Margaret Henley, and Winters driving down to
Dunmore East to collect his belongings from the beach cottage, they’d hardly
seen each other.

Now he was back
in Dublin and Cíara wanted to celebrate.

* * *

The expensive
leather suitcases were all packed and waiting by the door. Cíara’s heart did a
little flip and she bit her lip to keep tears at bay.

“So, you're off back to
America?” She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice.
Of course he must
go back. The promise of a film contract was too good to turn down.

Winters nodded.

She thought
maybe the world would end.

“Do I get to
keep the office furniture?” she asked in a watery voice.

“On one
condition.” Winters placed a gentle finger under her chin and lifted her face
so that he could look into her eyes. What he saw in their depths took his
breath away. He caught her mouth in a hungry kiss, something he'd promised he
would not do.

Then he did
something else he'd been resisting doing in the two days while the details
about the Diamond Darling were being worked out. He pulled her into his arms,
holding her tightly and deepening the kiss. And his body thrilled as she
responded with a passion that promised delights he had only dreamed about until
now…

Cíara pulled her
mouth from his, shivering slightly with pleasure as his lips slipped to her
throat. “What’s your condition, Winters?”

“My condition?”
he asked, reddening. “Oh…that condition. That you keep my office chair and desk
waiting. Don't take on another partner, because I'll be back.”

“You're coming
back?” Her heart was stampeding now.

“Just as soon as
I possibly can. You didn't think I would leave you, did you?” he asked, his
look conveying all the words that lay unsaid between them.

“What time is
your plane?” she asked when he freed her mouth again.

“It doesn't
leave until seven this evening.”

“Why, that gives
us loads of time.” And she wrapped his tie around her hand, gently leading him
towards the bedroom as his arms wrapped around her and his mouth fastened on
hers.

THE END….

Note: Watch for the further
adventures of Winters & Somers scheduled for Fall, 2013!

About The Author

Glenys O'Connell is a former crime journalist on a daily
newspaper and publisher of a community newspaper. Covering serious crimes led
her to a degree in psychology and a career as a counselor. She is the author of
a number of published romantic suspense and comedy novels and childrens’ books.
She has shared her writing skills as a creative writing teacher in third level
and online. She has also published several books on mental health issues and is
an award winning playwright. She now makes her home in rural Ontario, Canada,
with her husband, four grown up children and two spoiled cats. You can read
more about Glenys & see her other books on her
Amazon page
or write to her by
email
.
You can also read the first chapter of some of her books for free
here
.  

Author’s Note
: Thank you for reading Winters &
Somers. I hope you enjoyed Ciara and Jonathon’s story as much as I enjoyed
writing it. If you had time, please consider putting a review up on Amazon –
every writer gets a boost out of seeing reviews by readers!!

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