Chapter 15
It was late Saturday afternoon when the sight of Saint Mary’s steeple rising above the stone walls of Kilbane welcomed them back. The minute they drove through the Ballygate entrance, the knot in Siobhán’s stomach loosened. Home. “Mam should be checked into the Kilbane Inn by now,” Macdara said.
“Bring her to the bistro.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Do I sense tension?” Jane asked. Everyone had been quiet on the drive home, like boxers retreating to their corners before the next round.
“Not at all,” Siobhán said. Except I don’t think she likes me and that was before she knew I was going to marry the golden boy.
“I’m sure Mam is looking forward to seeing you as well,” Macdara said to Jane.
It would be a few days before Ellen’s body was released, but in the meantime they could comfort one another, dedicate a mass to Ellen Delaney, and even hold a wake. Macdara dropped Jane and Siobhán off at the bistro, then headed for the inn. The bell dinged as they stepped into Naomi’s, giving Siobhán a mini shot of joy. She could hear chattering as she walked in, and was overjoyed when they stepped into the dining room to find that all her siblings were home, even James. Jane’s demeanor immediately brightened as she was introduced to the rest of the O’Sullivan Six, as they were affectionately nicknamed by the town. She squeezed Ciarán and Ann, and allowed Gráinne to make style suggestions as they guided her by the fire that James was tending.
Eoin and Bridie were in the kitchen as the bistro was filled, which was slightly unusual for after lunch, but not surprising given the news of Macdara’s aunt being murdered in Ballysiogdun had already spread through Kilbane. Siobhán entered the kitchen to see how the pair was holding up. Pans of food lined the counters.
“What’s this?” Siobhán asked, nosing around.
“What do you think?” Eoin said. “The neighbors. We look busy, but mostly we’re selling tea and brown bread because everyone is bringing their own food.”
“Good,” Siobhán said. “Why don’t you two take a break? We’ll officially close and just let everyone help themselves.” Eoin and Bridie were happy with that, and Siobhán took over cleaning up the kitchen—it was the least she could do. In fact, she soon found that scrubbing pots and pans and washing down the cooker and the counters was calming. Before she knew it at least an hour had passed, and she returned to the dining room to join the others and fix herself a much-needed cappuccino. It seemed as if twice as many folks were now in the bistro, and discussing not only the murders—fairies were on the lips of her neighbors here as well. The bell dinged, and moments later Macdara entered with his mam. Nancy Flannery, a petite woman with the same brown curls as Macdara, was wearing a linen rose-colored skirt and suit jacket and a white blouse. Suddenly feeling underdressed in her denims and a T-shirt, Siobhán went to hug her, but Nancy stepped to the side as if she feared being run over.
“Sorry,” Siobhán said, going in for the hug again. Nancy barely hugged her back, just a quick pat to the back. There was definitely work to do on this relationship.
“Jane, my love,” Nancy said the moment she spotted her niece.
“Aunt Nancy,” Jane said. Her tone was polite but guarded, reminding Siobhán that they had been estranged. “How are you?”
Nancy strode to her niece and wrapped Jane in the hug that Siobhán had longed for. “I’m so sorry, petal. My sister.” Siobhán’s future mother-in-law inhaled and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “If I had known. We were fools, the pair of us. I should have stepped up and mended fences.”
“She could have done the same,” Jane said. “There’s no use torturing yourself now.” Siobhán was relieved to see Jane behaving like a decent human being. Maybe it was the village that had turned her sour. People were like plants, seeking their best environments to thrive. When this nightmare was behind them, if she was found innocent, Jane would be free to move on to a place where she fared better.
“What happened? Who did this to my sister?” Nancy Flannery turned to Macdara, her hands clasping the handkerchief. “Tell me you’ve caught him, luv.”
Or her. Siobhán wasn’t about to correct her future mother-in-law. Nancy hadn’t congratulated either of them on the engagement yet. Maybe Macdara had yet to break the news.
“I’m sorry,” Macdara said. “It’s not our case.”
“But we’re going to help them,” Siobhán said. “We’ll do everything we can.”
Nancy cried out, squeezing the handkerchief even harder.
Siobhán felt eyes on them and turned to find her brood hovering nearby, unsure of how to deal with their sobbing guest.
“Tea?” Siobhán said. “And brown bread?”
“On it,” Gráinne said, pushing her way into the kitchen.
“Everyone sit,” Siobhán said. “A cup of tea will do everyone good.” On her way to the kitchen she ambushed Ciarán with a squeeze, then turned and did the same to Ann, Eoin, and then James. She pulled back from her older brother and searched his face.
“Are you alright?” They both knew what she meant: Had he started drinking again?
He ruffled her hair. “I’m fine, Garda,” he said affectionately. “Just nursing my wounds.”
“It’s good to see you. We’ve missed you around here.”
“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” James said. “Will you give us the details later?”
“I’ll try,” she whispered. Her brood had inquisitive minds and more than once they had helped her work through a case. At the least, they were spending time together, and in the end that was the most important bit of all.
* * *
Gráinne waited until after they’d all had a family supper, a hearty plate of lamb chops, potato, and veg, to announce her news. “I have a job.”
Siobhán’s heart leapt into her throat as she imagined the possibilities and how to talk her out of them. “Where?”
Gráinne pointed out the window. “Sheila’s Hair Salon. I’m the new nail girl.” She flashed them all a look at her own nails, hot pink to match Sheila’s sign. “She said it won’t be long before I move up to personal stylist.”
James was the first to break the awkward silence. “Congrats,” he said, lifting his mineral. “You won’t have a far commute either.” They all glanced across the street. The salon was closed, the neon pink sign muted for the night. Sheila was a large woman whose bite could be as bad as her bark. Siobhán worried that the two combative personalities would be a bad mix. But there were worse jobs for Gráinne, and she did love style. She had even talked Jane into letting her paint her nails bright red, and Siobhán had already noticed her bringing them up to her eyes. She had mentioned she had some sight. Siobhán wondered what life for her was like. Although it couldn’t be easy, she seemed to have accepted it, and had no problem getting around. But if she could make out the red in her nails, wouldn’t she have noticed that her mother had been wearing a red dress?
She had acted surprised, even asked Siobhán if the killer had dressed her. Had it all been an act? Macdara wouldn’t like it if Siobhán pressed Jane for details about her sight, and he certainly wouldn’t like the fact that Siobhán was considering her a suspect, but she had no choice. Jane had been stonewalling when it came to proving her alibi. Siobhán had Googled herbal conferences in Dublin, apothecary conferences in Dublin, and even “plant conference” in Dublin and she hadn’t found anything for the days Jane purported to be there.
As the plates were cleared and dessert served—they had an array of options brought by their generous neighbors, including a toffee pudding that Siobhán found delightful—thunder rumbled and the rain started to come down in buckets. It was late in the evening, later than they usually ate, but the murder had them all wide awake. Everyone yearned for some levity, so despite the weather, conversation turned to summer and their plans. Siobhán was pleased to hear Eoin tell Nancy that he would be applying to colleges and he wanted to study art. It conjured up Geraldine’s comment about her daughter-in-law. “Annabel has been putting silly notions in her head.” It was unfair, how people went out of their way to squash other people’s dreams. Did Mary Madigan think her pursuit was a silly notion?
“I’m bored,” Ciarán said. “May I be excused?”
“Off with ya,” Siobhán said.
He swiped his plate to take to the kitchen and let out a “Yes!”
“Me too,” Ann said, grabbing her plate and following.
She would need to figure out ways to keep Ann and Ciarán occupied for the summer. Her time off work was going to fly by, and she’d be a terrible sister if she spent it all on the case. Why not take her brood with her when she returned to Ballysiogdun?
For she would return, she knew it in her bones. The case had a grip on her, and she had no intention of letting go. They could stroll the farmers’ market and take hikes, and visit the fairy tree. And yes, she’d be working too, but at least they’d be together. A little family time, a holiday of sorts. Even if it was in a village where they believed in fairies and a woman was recently murdered. Imagine that on the postcard.
Not a bother—her brood was sadly used to it. And they would never be alone. When was the last time they’d taken a holiday as a family? She’d talk to Bridie about hiring extra help in the bistro for the summer, and then see if she could talk her siblings into it.
Macdara announced he was taking personal leave for the funeral, and conversation soon turned to the memorial. Everyone agreed that they should have a public memorial service as soon as possible, and then a private funeral and burial once the pathologist released the body, so the date for the public service was set a few days from now. That would give everyone in Ballysiogdun time to travel to Kilbane. In the meantime, Siobhán had learned that Dylan Kelly would be giving a lecture at Lough Gur. The historical park was practically in their backyard, and it was the perfect way for all of them to get their minds off the murder—everyone but Siobhán, who was hoping after the lecture she could steal a little of the professor’s time. On the ride home, she had Googled him, and none of her searches turned up any mention of a book on fairies slated for publication. Or any book for that matter. Had it all been a ruse? If he wasn’t in Ballysiogdun to research a book, what exactly was he doing there?