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EVE GINGERLY PULLED into a parallel space along the one-lane road through the village of Conneally. Reassessed. Then tried again, hooking her drivers' side tires well up onto the sidewalk just as all of the other drivers had done.
In the U.S., this would warrant a parking ticket. Here, with the impossibly narrow roads, it seemed to be the norm in every little village she'd passed through.
She waited for an elderly woman bent over a cane to toddle past, then cautiously opened the door of her Vauxhall rental car and stepped out into the crisp, snowy December air.
Weathered two-story buildings of rough gray stone with mullioned windows marched along each side of the road. A butcher. Chemist. Doctor's office. A charity shop, with festive holiday decorations and a display of red sweaters hanging in its front window.
And beyond that, her home for the next two months: the Shamrocks & Shivers Antiquarian Book Shoppe. Golden, welcoming light streamed through its wide front windows and a trio of upstairs dormers. The place had picture postcard charm, with gusts of snowflakes coming down, the wreaths and candles in the windows, and a Christmas tree covered with twinkling lights inside.
Excitement and anticipation, laced with a liberal dash of worry, washed through her as she walked across the road.
She'd have just three days to learn about her responsibilities at the store before Shauna left for a writing residence program in London and then went on to Eve's place in Minneapolis for a temporary apartment swap. But would three days be enough?
Even though Shauna would be just a phone call away to answer any questions, taking care of her shop during the busy holiday season would be a challenge for someone with no retail experience whatsoever.
But this is my dream come true—Ireland, for two whole months. And really, what could go terribly wrong?
Eve took a deep breath as she opened the heavy front door, then narrowly missed tripping over a fat sausage of a Welsh Corgi sleeping on the welcome mat. She grabbed for the end of a book stack, righted herself, and surveyed the store with delight.
Bookshelves lined every wall, while additional floor-to-ceiling stacks of shelves appeared to honeycomb every available bit of interior space. Upholstered chairs in cranberry and deep green were strewn here and there, each with a small table and stained glass lamp. The scent of evergreen boughs and warm cookies filled the air.
A stout woman in a shapeless gray dress and a cloud of snowy hair stepped from behind a festive display of candles and holiday greeting cards with a mug of steaming cinnamon tea in her hand. "Can I help ye?"
"I'm Shauna's friend from the U.S., and she's expecting me. Is she here?"
The older woman pursed her lips. "Ach...ye didn't hear, then. I know she tried calling."
Eve felt a niggle of unease wash through her. "What didn't I hear?"
"It's her granny, poor thing. Took a fierce chill and Shauna had to leave for Cork yesterday."
"But she's coming back, right? Before she leaves for London?"
"That I doubt, with her gran weak as a kitten and all alone in that big house of hers."
Eve gripped the shoulder strap of her purse a little tighter. "Then is...is our arrangement still on?"
"She said nothing different to me." The woman glanced at her watch and gave Eve an apologetic smile as she lifted a coat from a peg behind the sales counter and hurried to the front door. "But best if ye call her yourself."
"Y-you're leaving?" Eve's heart stilled as a dozen questions spun through her mind. "Already?"
"I was expecting ye a mite earlier." The woman's voice held a tone of mild reproof. "And now I have to hurry along and take my granddaughter to her orthodontist down in Killarney."
"But...but I don't know anything about this place."
"She said she left ye a good long list of what to do. Ye'll be fine."
"Do you work here every day? Will you be back?"
One hand on the doorknob, the old woman looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "Goodness no, dear. I'm just a neighbor. Shauna asked if I could step in until you arrived."
"But—" Now Eve felt seriously dizzy. "Wait—who are you?"
"Colleen. Colleen Moriarty. This is just a small shop, dear. Shauna said you're a librarian in some big, fancy library in Minneapolis. Sure and ye'll not have a bit of trouble, coming from a big place like that."
Eve glanced frantically around the shop, feeling the walls closing in on her. "I...I've never run a cash register like this one. And what about sales tax—do you have that here?"
"Give Shauna a call.—She'll set you straight soon enough. C'mon, Bonnie." The woman whistled to the Corgi and stepped outside, then hesitated and popped back in the open doorway. "I'm not sure what ye'll want to do about that man she's got in the back room, though. And don't forget about Walter, dearie—or that beastly creature upstairs."
Eve stared at her. A man? What man? Maybe he was Shauna's significant other. But who on earth was Walter? And what began to worry her more with each passing second was the presence of a creature upstairs.
But before she could ask any more questions, Colleen disappeared into the intensifying snowfall outside.
~*~
EVE PROWLED THROUGH the bookshop once again, her cell phone in hand. She'd found no sign of any instructions for running the store. None. She'd tried Shauna's cell number a half-dozen times during the past hour, and had left that many messages to no avail. What if something had happened to her?
All four doors along the hallway leading to the back entrance of the shop were locked, so further exploration hadn't been possible. She'd knocked on those doors, though, and there'd not been even the faintest hint of a mysterious man anywhere in the building, much less—heaven forbid—a creature somewhere.
Surely Colleen hadn't been spinning silly tales to a gullible American...had she? In her sturdy shoes and drab clothes, she'd hardly seemed the type.
The early dusk of December had deepened, and now Eve saw her own fractured, worried reflection in the mullioned windows as she paced. At first she'd feared the arrival of customers and how she would manage the massive antique cash register sitting on the front counter.
Now, she wished someone—anyone—would walk through the front door during these last few minutes before closing time, because the deepening shadows in the shop as darkness fell outside were beginning to seriously make her nervous.
Eve stopped behind the front counter and once again bent down to open all the drawers, hoping she'd missed finding a packet of instructions. A list of phone numbers for those who might work here. A set of keys. Something.
The front door squealed open and she straightened up with a jerk, barely stifling a gasp of alarm.
A young boy of eight or nine stood in the open doorway, his mouth open and his eyes wide. He backed up a step. "Are you stealing Ms. O'Connor's money? I'm telling!"
He spun around and disappeared into the darkness,
"Wait," she called out, hurrying to the door. "I'm Shauna's friend. Maybe you can tell me—"
The village was quiet, with no cars passing by, and the other stores were dark. The faint glow of the old fashioned street lamps did little to reveal anything beyond the nearest buildings. The little footsteps leading to and away from the shop were already filling with snow.
With a sigh, Eve stepped back inside, shut the door and rammed the deadbolt home.
In the deafening stillness of the empty shop, she heard the faint sound of something rustling upstairs. A long, low moan.
And then a woman screamed.