Read Kilmoon: A County Clare Mystery for Free Online

them.
    “You saw too much matchmaking in your youth, I suppose,” Liam continued. “Took the romance right out of marriage.”
    A few minutes later, the sun officially breached the eastern horizon and bounced light off the Celtic crosses. Kevin remained close as they walked the lumpy path toward the lane and to Liam’s sea-salt encrusted Corolla. Kevin took control of the steering wheel. The headlights highlighted a narrow lane lined with more rock walls. Hazel scrub and holly scraped the car when Kevin eased off the embankment.
    “Let me help you with the matchmaking this year,” he pushed. It was an old argument.
    Liam scowled. “Enough discussion on the matter. I have the strength for one more festival at least. I’m not dead yet.”
    As he drove toward the village, Kevin struggled to imagine Liam’s prime as the swashbuckling matchmaker. Tales still circulated about the youthful Liam, cocky yet charming, with a mane of wild hair and vigor to spare. Liam the Lion he was called, though nowadays he looked about as leonine as a shorn sheep.
    Despite this, Kevin could almost picture Liam the Lion striding through the village, which hadn’t changed much since the 1970s. The hub still revolved around the plaza, and each Wednesday step dancing lessons still began at 7:00 p.m. in the Grand Arms Hotel. On the opposite corner, the market still stayed open into the long twilight to cater to the tourists. Too bad the new addition to their community, the Internet café, intruded between two gift shops. Kevin would like nothing better than to see the modern eyesore closed down for good, but the O’Brien family’s bottomless coffers kept it afloat.
    From the plaza, the Donellan homestead stood a few miles away off a series of rutted lanes. The Corolla’s brakes squeaked as Kevin pulled up in front of a ranch-style house complete with bright green trim. Kevin had built it for Liam, all the while lamenting the demise of the white-washed cottages of old. Kevin pivoted out of the car and rounded to the passenger side to see Liam gazing at a sliver moon that still hovered near the horizon. His gimpy hand with fingers brittle as twigs lay curled on his lap. Kevin leaned over to hoist Liam to his feet.
    “Hovering magpie, stop with you,” Liam said. “I’m not arthritic. Only the hand.”
    “Old troll, don’t forget the hip. Use your cane.”
    “Bugger that, I tripped last night, that’s all.”
    The porch light clicked on as Kevin moved into its sensor range. Looking back, he caught Liam’s eyes aglow, bright green and adamant. “I can handle the festival, do you doubt that?”
    For a second, Kevin caught a glimpse of Liam the Lion, but the image faded with Liam’s limping step forward.
    “I don’t understand vegans,” Liam said when he crossed the threshold. “They’re often judgmental and hard to match. Then there are the women who don’t want children, and the men who’d prefer to stay home to tend them. It’s all backwards I tell you.” Kevin loitered in the doorway while Liam turned on the lamp next to his reading chair. “Even an old master like me has to let go. In fact, I’ve no choice. I made two matchmaking mistakes last year.”
    A draft slithered up Kevin’s back, and for a second he froze in an attempt to comprehend the impossible. Liam never made mistakes. This was a law as universal as gravity. But then, there was a time when Liam filled out his clothes, a time when gray hair fine as a kitten’s belly didn’t ring his head, a time when Kevin assumed Liam would live forever. Just like there was a time—that sliver of time, still sharp after all these years—when he’d believed Sister Ignatius’s answer when he’d asked how long God would love him. For all eternity, she’d answered in her hushed way. Kevin used to believe in eternity and forever.
    “I’ll have last say in the matter,” Liam said, his tone defiant now.
    “You always do. Now rest up for the party. I predict utter