Dragon's Touch (Book 1 Linty Dragon Series) (26 page)

Around the bite-sized sandwich, I said, “We need to partner up to find the dragon and read the book. Together, I mean.”

“Sure you’re up for that?” Cullen asked with a keen gaze.

“I am. You have contacts I don’t have, you’re connected to people that I have no idea about, and that’s just for starters,” I admitted.

“There’s not much to be done from the Inn. If I move into the house, I can help you find the answers we need and can keep you safe,” Cullen said. “If that’s what you want, that is. I also want to know what’s in it for me?”

He wanted to move in? Into my house? With me? Could I handle being around him 24/7? Would I be stepping into the spider’s parlor, so to speak? Good grief.

“There’s always an angle with you, isn’t there?” I countered. My appetite had disappeared, my hands shook, and I tucked them into my lap, under the table, so he wouldn’t see.

“I have my own interests. One of them being the book, what it contains, and how to free the dragons without triggering a catastrophic war. The other reasons, well, we’ll just say I require payment for my efforts.”

With a snort, I scoffed, “There will be no freeing of the dragons.” Then I murmured, “You sound like my father. He has offered to take over as dragon keeper. When I asked why Gran didn’t give him the job in the first place, he refused to answer.”

“He’s serious, then?”

“I’d say so, yes, though I told him he wasn’t welcome to live at Dragon Hill.”

Cullen leaned forward, tapped his fingers on the table and said, “He’s not to be trusted with the dragons.”

My laughter was loud, causing disconcerted looks from guests and staff alike. I covered my mouth with my napkin while I continued to chuckle. “He said the same thing about you. I guess there’s no love lost there, eh?”

His slanted look said I was right. “I never said I was perfect, completely honest, or an upstanding sort. I have told you repeatedly that I have an agenda. Like it, or not, you’re aware of that.”

“Must you move into the house?”

A smile formed on his lips and he asked, “What better way to assist you, than to be at your side?”

“Don’t think you’ll have control over me, Cullen. That’s not going to happen, not in a million years.”

“We don’t have that long,” he parried with a grin.

“Mm, so it seems.” I finished the tea, wolfed another sandwich bite, for they were small wedges, and told him to give me a day to get a room prepared for him and to let Mrs. Douglas know he’d be in residence.

I neared the car when Cullen reached out and wrapped his fingers around my arm. “Before you leave, why come to me all of a sudden?”

“You’re the only person I trust, though I have no idea why. Others would like to see me leave Scotland and abandon the dragons, you aren’t one of them, and I appreciate that.”

He stared at me, looked away and then said in a soft tone, “We can defeat those who would use the dragons for their own purposes, Linty. Have trust in that, if nothing else.”

I nodded as he left me on the sidewalk, and stared after him.

My watch showed I’d been gone an hour. Mrs. Douglas would leave soon, and God knows if Dad was still at the estate, I had but a brief period of freedom left to do as I pleased. Unwilling to have another verbal altercation with my father, I drove through the village and took a left onto Evan Cairn’s land.

Chopped wood straggled across one side of the property next to a workshop of sorts. I smiled as chickens scattered when I slowed and parked in front of the cottage. The front door opened, Evan strode forth and greeted me with drawn brows and a frown. Maybe this visit hadn’t been as good an idea as I’d thought.

I left the driver’s seat and smiled in greeting. “I don’t remember ever visiting your place, Evan. Since you haven’t been at the estate for the last day or so, I thought I might check to see if all is well.”

His eyes narrowed a tad before he motioned me toward the cottage and invited me to sit down.

“Lass, it’s been hectic around here. You’re aware that Daniel has been hunted by unruly men over the loss of your dragon, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I said with a nod. “Has Daniel told you that I think he’s innocent?”

“Aye, but that holds less weight in these parts than you’d think, Linty.”

We sat in hand-hewn chairs in front of the house and I gazed around the property. A woman’s touch was needed in the worst way, but I’d never say as much. “How long will it be before you return to work? The property is coming along nicely, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow. You must try to call off Vaughn’s men, lass. I need Daniel’s help and can’t be worrying all the time over whether my son has been beaten to a pulp, or that he’s dead.”

“Consider it done. Speaking of dead,” I said, and watched Evan closely. “Who were the people who assisted Gran in placing the woman under the stair, and was she definitely my mother?”

“I’ve no idea, lass. All that happened long ago, and you shouldn’t worry yerself over it. You’ve greater problems before ya, don’t ya?”

His accent so thick, I nearly didn’t get what he’d said, until it made sense to me that he’d sidestepped all, and would have done so if he was involved. I sucked in a breath at the thought and rose from my seat and glanced at my watch. “Thanks for your hard work, I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Daniel he’s safe, won’t you?”

His nod accompanied an odd look that gave me the jitters. Gone was the friendly man who’d come to the house and made himself available for work. Was he indeed one of the people who helped Gran with my mother’s body? Had he killed Gran? Who the hell had done those deeds, if it wasn’t him? I knew Gran had been killed, she’d said as much. Dying people know these things, don’t they? Smythe’s face popped into my head and my suspicions of his involvement in Gran’s death came forth.

I left the man and his home behind me, and returned to Dragon Hill. My father was gone, Mrs. Douglas was sullen, and I wasn’t about to take her on after the morning I’d had. At least, I thought not.

In the dragons’ lair once again, I’d set the book on the table and was about to begin my efforts to read it when Mrs. Douglas marched forward, a glass of raspberry iced tea and a dish of cookies in her hands.

“You might as well have slapped your father’s face, Linty, when you left so abruptly. It was rude and unbecoming behavior.”

I waited but a second before I responded in kind. “Did I ask for your opinion, Mrs. Douglas?”

The woman was affronted, and we both knew it.

“Pardon me, Linty, but there’s no need to be so rude, to the help, or to your family,” she said with a sniff.

“Be that, as it may, this is my house and my wishes should be respected. If my father had ever acted like a real father, maybe I’d have more regard for him. As it stands, he thinks I’m still a child to be ordered about. He will not live here and interfere in my life, or take control of the dragons. Is there anything else you wish to discuss or have I made myself clear?”

Her gaze broke away before mine did and she nodded. “We are clear, then.”

“Just to let you know, Cullen Vaughn will reside here beginning tomorrow. Together, we’ll stop intruders and keep the dragons safe. I’ll prepare a room for him later, so don’t bother yourself with that. Earlier, I spoke with Evan Cairn, he and his crew of workmen will arrive tomorrow as well. I merely wanted to give you fair warning of those who’ll be coming and going.”

“Certainly, thank you.” Mrs. Douglas turned away and marched into the kitchen. Good thing the door wasn’t able to slam, for it would have. I heaved a sigh, glanced at Drake and said, “Well, that’s over.” He offered no words of wisdom.

A while later, I became aware of Mrs. Douglas standing over me. Her face a mask of worry, she had a hand on my shoulder and shook me gently.

“Linty, are you all right?”

Bleary-eyed and foggy of mind, I came from a great distance and nodded my head a few times.

“It’s late, and other than this small lamp, you’re sitting in the dark. Can I get something for you before I go home?”

I shook my head and thanked her. “Is dinner ready?”

“Yes, it’s in the refrigerator. All you have to do is heat it when you’re ready to eat.” She eyed the untouched iced tea and cookies, but never mentioned that I hadn’t eaten them.

I watched as she eyed them and then said, “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll save these for a snack later on.” I motioned to the cookies and tea and saw her smile.

“Very well, then.” With that, the woman left me on my own.

I stumbled across the floor, flicked light switches in the first floor rooms and reached for dinner. Lamb chops, gravy, and vegetables lay on a wrapped plate. Ravenous, I heated the meal, wolfed it down like the last supper and cleared the dishes before I went back to the dragons’ lair.

Gathering the cookie dish and room temperature tea, I took them to the kitchen where I stood at the sink, guzzled the tea and ate two homemade molasses cookies. Satisfied, I climbed the staircase and went about preparing a room for Cullen. He’d have the first room at the top of the front stairs, this way if a thief broke in or an unwanted visitor came round, he could deal with them promptly. He’d also be far away from my own room.

Bedrooms at Dragon Hill were spacious, had individual bathrooms, and sitting areas. Only Gran’s did not. I didn’t know why. She’d chosen a smaller, yet pleasant room as her own from the earliest time I could remember. Sheets and pillow cases, a comforter, all were on Cullen’s bed, and I figured Mrs. Douglas had gone ahead and done up the room until I realized when I’d searched all the rooms, they were ready in anticipation of guests.

Twilight had come and gone with darkness on its heels. Before night descended completely, I walked the drive, gathered the mail that Mrs. Douglas usually brought in, and flipped through the envelopes. There wasn’t a lot of junk mail, but several letters instead. I went into the living room, nestled onto the sofa, and opened one envelope after another. A copy of Gran’s death certificate lay in one envelope, with natural causes listed under cause of death. I refused to believe it and slapped the paper down next to me. The next letter proved to be of more interest. It contained an invitation to a soirée being held at Bànach’s estate. Chills ran up and down my spine at the thought of who would be in attendance. Good Christmas, another room filled with gaunts, ones who weren’t leery of me any longer, nor frightened of Gran, those who would now try to wrest from me what they required to complete their collection. I had the dragon thief to thank for that. Would Cullen get the same invite? I assumed we’d go together if someone could watch over the dragons. Could I entice Mrs. Douglas to stay? I wondered.

My gut cramped, pain shot through me as though I’d been stabbed, followed by the need to vomit. I clenched my jaws and raced for the bathroom, reaching it in the nick of time. Dinner exploded from my throat, followed by the same routine as last time. Weak-kneed, I slumped to the floor, clung to the toilet bowl and waited for the pain and dry heaves to subside. It took a while, but eventually I regained my strength and rose from the floor to rinse my mouth and wash my face. There was no doubt in my mind that I was being poisoned, just as Gran had been. Was Mrs. Douglas the culprit or was it someone much more deadly? 

Unwilling to call for help, or admit to anyone that I was ill, I crept slowly into the living room and lay on the sofa. Wracked with cramps that amounted to nothing more, I covered up with an afghan and curled into a ball. I must have dozed off, for I awoke with a start when the sound of softly spoken words filtered into my consciousness. Frozen to the spot, I listened intently and drew the afghan away from my body, aware of the fact that I hadn’t set the alarm. In stealth mode, I got up, moved with caution into the foyer and stood at the edge of the doorway to the dragons’ lair. One bump after another sounded until there were no more.

“Should we take this big dragon? He’s bound to be heavy,” the voice whispered.

A robbery was in progress, the dragons were in jeopardy and I had no weapon available to me. I returned to the living room, grasped the fireplace poker, and tiptoed back to a spot near the doorway. When light footfalls came close, I raised the poker and swung as though I was about to hit a homerun for the Red Sox.

A resounding thud was followed by an expletive from the second man. The still-standing idiot launched himself through the doorway, and we met full-on, head-to-head, body-to-body. I had raised the poker a second time, but was knocked off my feet by the first man, and stepped on by the second one. He took a moment to kick me in the ribs and swear at me, the dirty lout. I cringed in pain, huddled on the floor with the poker at my side while the front door swung to and fro as the wind played with it.

“There bitch, you won’t try that again, will you?” The man snarled as he fled.

Tears rolled down my face as I rocked back and forth, holding my ribs and sobbing. Well aimed as his attack had been, I was pretty sure my ribs were intact. I crawled to the phone, pulled it from the table to find the line was dead. The rage that threatened to choke me was unbearable.

On hands and knees, I crawled across the floor and then weak-legged, I stood before the dragons. I reached out, flipped a light switch and saw the cabinet and glass cases of dragons had thinned considerably. By my count, sixteen of them had gone missing, leaving twenty-four.

Drake’s eyes were fireballs in his jade face, smoke issued from his nostrils and spiraled upward. I wasn’t sure if a tiny flame came from his mouth or if it was just my imagination.

Distraught over the loss, I heard his whisper.
The war begins, prepare yourself.

About the Author

J.M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to stimulate the imagination. Like an artist, she uses blank pages to draw vivid characters.  J.M.’s
Esposito Series
includes
For Love of Livvy,
Dirty Trouble
,
Dead Wrong
,
Cold Moon Dead, Season for Murder, Death Gone Awry
and the
Esposito Series Box Set
. J.M. is also the author of the
Deadly Bakery Series
, featuring a gutsy heroine sleuth who runs a bakery. The three-book cozy mystery series includes
A Crusty Murder, A Crouton Murder
and
The Focaccia Fatality
.
J.M. lives in rural Rhode Island, a colorful and interesting state.