Read Scandal in Skibbereen for Free Online Page A

side. The hotel will be on your left, and there’s parking behind it. You can’t miss it. It’s no more than ten minutes from here.”
    “Got it. Thanks, Maura—if this works out, I’ll owe you one.”
    “And I’ll collect, believe me.” Maura laughed.
    Mick came over as Althea went out the door. “Who’s that?”
    “A pushy American on a crazy search for . . . well, I won’t say right now because it’s kind of a secret. But if she’s right, it might liven things up a bit around here.”

Chapter 4
     
    M aura couldn’t stop thinking about Althea’s story, even the next morning. What the heck did the woman think she was doing here? She must have some smarts if she held down a job in New York, but she shows up in Leap with a crazy story about a lost painting and doesn’t even know where to start looking? Either Althea was dumber than she looked, had some plan she hadn’t talked about, or . . . she was on a legitimate treasure hunt. Maura stopped to consider that angle. It might be good for business, she decided. Assuming Althea said it was okay to spread the word, she could put together some kind of evening at Sullivan’s where everybody who had any information (or thought they did) could get together and pool their resources, or at least spend an interesting evening talking about the possibilities. The idea cheered Maura up.
    Say Althea’s crazy theory was true. Would a discovery like that bring people to Leap? For a day? A week? Maura had been working at the pub since early spring. While business had been steady, had even picked up a little now that summer had arrived, it was still hard to cover the costs of paying for four employees including herself, even if their hours added up to less than full-time each. So far there had been nothing left over for improvements to the place.
    Still, it was a better place than it had been when she’d arrived, Maura was proud to say. And she was in a better place personally too. She’d shown up homeless and jobless, not quite penniless but not far from it, with no close family and no idea what she was going to do with her life. Now she had a house and a pub that she owned outright, including the liquor license. She knew the place had potential, and she’d seen enough pubs—from behind the bar, not in front—to have a pretty good idea what it took.
    Sullivan’s had been around for decades, but the prior owner, Mick Sullivan, had let it go downhill, until only his small circle of faithful friends—and the occasional confused tourist—had kept it going. Maura didn’t pretend that she could turn it into a wildly successful place. There simply weren’t enough people, either living here or passing through, to make that possible. But she believed there was room for improvement. It was cleaner and better lit than it had been in the dark last days of winter—amazing what a few higher-watt lightbulbs could do for a place. She had installed the espresso machine that had been hidden in the basement, and that had drawn in a few more customers, especially women. She was toying with the idea of serving food, although she’d heard rumors that the regulations for that were scary and to meet them she’d probably have to make some expensive changes, which at the moment she couldn’t afford. Not happening this year.
    But it was nice to have a sense of purpose. In fact, if she admitted it, it was nice getting to know people and being able to greet them by name and know what their “usual” was. And it was nice being her own boss for a change. At least nobody could fire her. And if the pub went under, she would have no one to blame but herself. Plus she’d still own the license and the property, which were worth something.
    She checked her watch: almost eleven, which was her preferred opening time. Old Mick had been kind of casual about keeping to official hours. Maura thought that she should impose some order, and if local people saw that she was open regularly at the