Secret Sanctuary. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ the window. Shamus was a seasoned fisherman who’d once worked on the same boat as Cullen’s father. Cullen had known the old geezer for years, and he knew better than to sit next to Shamus if he didn’t have time for a story or two.

      Besides Cullen and Shamus, the only other patron in the diner was Marley Glasglow. Dressed in a yellow rain slicker, he sat at the end of the counter, hunched over his coffee as if totally absorbed in his own thoughts. Glasglow was probably around forty, but he looked much older, a big, burly guy with a sour disposition and no visible means of support other than the few odd jobs he picked up down at the docks.

      “We lost many a good man at sea on a night like this,” Shamus was saying. He paused, then gave Cullen a sly glance. “A night like this can bring McFarland Leary out of his grave.”

      Cullen laughed. “Oh, come on now, Shamus. Don’t tell me you believe in that old ghost story.”

      Shamus’s expression turned dead serious. “I’m sixty-five years old, lad. When a man lives as long as I have, he sees things.”

      “You’ve seen Leary’s ghost?” Cullen challenged.

      Shamus shrugged. “I might have. They say he rises every five years. It’s been that long since anyone’s seen him.” He glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see Leary’s ghost peering in the window.

      For the first time all evening, Glasglow looked up from his coffee, his eyes burning with an intensity that made Cullen wonder about the man’s sanity. “Leary fell prey to the evil that’s been the downfall of man since the beginning of time.”

      “And what evil is that?” Cullen asked skeptically.

      “He was seduced by a woman.”

      Behind the counter, Brie bristled. “I hope you’re not implying that all women are evil.” When Glasglow refused to deny it, she said, “If women are so evil, why are most of the truly awful things in this world perpetrated by men? Why are the most vicious killers on death row almost always men? How do you explain that?”

      Glasglow eyed her for a moment. “Most men kill because of a woman.”

      “That’s ridiculous!” Brie exclaimed. She glanced at Cullen who shrugged.

      “Leary was suspected of being a warlock so he was hanged on the town green,” Shamus put in. “He comes back every five years because he has unfinished business in this town.”

      “Yeah,” Glasglow muttered. “Revenge.”

      “Not revenge,” Shamus said with a frown. “He’s searching for the offspring of his unholy union with a witch. And the offspring of their offspring.”

      Cullen shook his head. “You’ve lost me, Shamus. Leary haunts this town every five years because he’s looking for his great-great-great-great-grand-children?”

      “Aye, and he’s not the only one searching for his kin,” Shamus said. “Have you never wondered why so many scientific types settle here in Moriah’s Landing?”

      Amused by the old man’s ramblings, Cullen swiveled his stool to face him. “No, I can’t say as I have. Are you suggesting it has something to do with McFarland Leary’s descendants?”

      “Aye, and the witch’s.”

      “Be careful, old man,” Glasglow warned. “You go sticking that nose of yours where it doesn’t belong, you’re apt to get it chopped off.”

      “Is that a threat, Marley Glasglow?” Shamus squared his shoulders, as if preparing to throw down the gauntlet. Glasglow was at least twenty years younger and thirty pounds heavier than Shamus, so Cullen decided he’d better step in before things got out of hand.

      “The storm’s getting worse,” he commented. “Maybe we’d better all call it a night.”

      Brie threw him a grateful smile. “I think you’re right, Cullen. I was thinking about asking my boss if we could close early.”

      “You’re throwing us out on a night like this?” Glasglow glowered at her.

      Brie shrugged. “It’s only an hour till our regular closing time at ten. You’d have to leave then anyway.”

      “And if I refuse?”

      Cullen walked over and put a hand on Glasglow’s shoulder. “If you refuse, I have a nice cozy jail cell you might find to your liking.”

      Glasglow shoved his cup aside and stood, facing Cullen. At six feet, Cullen was tall enough, but Glasglow towered over him by a good four inches. And like Shamus, Cullen was outweighed by the man, but he knew how to deal with thugs. He’d dealt with plenty of them on the streets of Boston.

      He moved slightly, so that Glasglow could glimpse the automatic he wore in a shoulder holster beneath his coat.

      Glasglow eyed the gun for a moment, then his gaze met Cullen’s. “You’ve got me shaking, boy.”

      Cullen’s stare never wavered. “Maybe you should be.”

      “Considering the track record of our fine police department?” Glasglow sneered. “I’m not too worried.” He walked over to the front door and drew it open. An icy gust swept through the diner, and Cullen saw Brie shiver.

      Lifting the hood of his slicker over his head, Glasglow stood in the doorway for a moment, staring out into the rainy darkness.

      Then he glanced over his shoulder, his gaze resting on Brie. “The police never could find who killed those women twenty years ago. I doubt much has changed since then. If you ever find yourself in trouble, girl, I wouldn’t be looking to the likes of him for help.”

      He nodded toward Cullen, then he turned and disappeared through the doorway into the night.

      “TELL ME about that castle that overlooks the sea,” Becca said as she and Elizabeth watched the elegant dancers swirl about the floor in the ballroom.

      “You mean the Bluffs?”

      “Yes, that’s the one.” Becca’s gaze was still on the dancers, but she looked pensive, subdued. Elizabeth wondered if something had happened during the course of the evening to disturb her.

      Except for their brief conversation in the foyer when Elizabeth had first arrived, she’d seen little of her friend all night. Becca had drifted away after Lucian LeCroix had come in, leaving Elizabeth alone with the handsome professor. They’d talked for a few minutes longer, making arrangements to meet at the library on campus the following morning for his tour, and then Lucian—as he insisted she call him—had excused himself to join the party as well. Elizabeth had been standing alone in an unobtrusive corner for the past hour or so. She was glad that Becca had sought her out again.

      The music ended and as the couples drifted toward the fringes of the room, Elizabeth caught a glimpse of LeCroix. He was talking to Drew Pierce, but she could have sworn his gaze was on her.

      It was probably her imagination, she decided. A bit of wishful thinking that a man as handsome and debonair as Lucian LeCroix would look at her twice. Since they’d spoken earlier, he hadn’t approached her again. If he was gazing in her direction now, СКАЧАТЬ