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And we have a sheriff and a deputy sheriff, too, but, seems to me, they all want the obvious and that’s it.”
    “Brendan, I know you’ve been asked, but tell me what happened the day before Collum died, and then when you discovered his body,” Devin said.
    “Ah, the day before,” Brendan murmured, drumming his fingers on the table. “We’d been to the church—you know our church has a relic, a bit of bone, said to have belonged to Saint Patrick himself?” he asked, distracted by the idea and smiling.
    “That’s—great,” Devin said, not sure how to respond.
    He nodded. “And, as you know, I think, for years and years—centuries even—St. Patrick’s Day was mainly a holy day here. Parades and celebrations and all have become part of the festivities in later years. So, of course, we’re traditional here. Early in the day, at least. There’s a fine parade in the village with Father Flannery carrying the cross and a host of his altar boys walking along, the choir singing in their place and all. We’d been to see the good Father due to all that, plotting the parade course and all. And we have a big show out here—just outside the walls, where the old fire pit is—with dancers and singers from St. Patrick’s of the Village. He’s a fine fellow, Father Flannery, he is. Anyway, so we met with him. Came back, reviewed the list of vendors who we’ve given space to within the walls for the fest—it will start tomorrow and go through St. Paddy’s—and then I went to pay bills and Collum spent time arguing with the Internet people. We ate dinner together at the pub. Collum went up to his room and I stayed down here talking with some guest, filling in some historical gaps, that kind of thing. Didn’t see him again until I saw him—dead. The housekeeper was in his room, screaming her head off. I came running and saw what she saw. Called the emergency number and they alerted the sheriff and Dr. Kirkland. They told me to try to resuscitate—and I would have tried, God help me, he was my brother—but he was dead. Stone cold dead.”
    “You couldn’t have revived him,” Rocky said.
    “No,” Brendan said softly, looking into space. He shrugged. “The central tower was alive with activity, official cars coming and going—and the hearse, coming and going.” His eyes fell directly on Rocky’s again. “I just want the truth—and justice for Collum. And…safety. Safety for Castle Karney.” He hesitated again. “For my brother and myself, and most importantly, for Kelly. If there’s something out there, ’tis better to know. And…”
    “And?” Devin prompted.
    “If it was the banshee, and it was me she wailed for last midnight, then see to it that you get yourselves and Seamus and Kelly out of here as quick as possible,” Brendan told him.
    Rocky nodded, meeting Brendan’s eyes. “There’s one thing I need for you to do today,” he told them firmly, looking from Kelly to Brendan to Seamus, who all sat across the booth from them.
    “What’s that?” Kelly asked.
    “Stay together—go nowhere alone. Be in the public eye, if possible. Can you promise to do that for me?” Rocky asked.
    “As you wish,” Brendan said.
    He looked then, Devin thought, like a lord of the castle of old. Strong, judicial, fair.
    And yet…
    Convinced of his own power as well.
    “Seriously, Brendan, you three stay together. Do not be alone,” Devin told him.
    “Of course, lass. As you say,” Brendan told her. “And what then? Will the two of you be staying with an old man in his chambers night after night?”
    “If that’s what it takes,” Rocky said firmly.
    “On your honeymoon?” Brendan asked.
    Rocky laughed.
    He and Devin looked at one another.
    “If that’s what it takes,” they said in unison.
     

Chapter 5
    The village was charming.
    There was one main road edged by buildings in soft shades of beige and taupe with thatched roofs. Most were entered directly from the road—called Karney Lane.