Kilmoon: A County Clare Mystery by Lisa Alber Read Free Book Online

mind sharing my table.”
    While Patsy spoke to Merrit, pointed, shook her head, then nodded, Kate tucked the letter back into her bra, all the while continuing her assessment. Merrit looked like she’d been interrupted somewhere in childhood, that’s what it was, and though her body had morphed, a part of her had remained behind.
    “Hi,” Merrit said, “you don’t mind my sitting here?”
    Kate leaned forward with chin on elbow on table, but Merrit was preoccupied with the menu. She sat sideways on the seat, fingering a large blue stone that dangled from a chain around her neck, and for several minutes she acted as if Kate didn’t exist, which Kate found more interesting than insulting. Look at her, with no clue she’s got a nasty surprise coming to her. Inform Merrit? Negative. No use giving up the advantage, after all. And why ruin her own fun besides?
    After ordering her meal, Merrit turned to Kate with a sudden torso shift. Her hips followed next. Then her gaze like twin gun barrels. Again, fascinating, but hardly enough to intimidate Kate.
    “You’re Merrit Chase, aren’t you?” Kate held out her hand. “I saw you in the plaza. I’m Kate Meehan.”
    “You know my name?”
    “Small place.”
    Merrit rolled her eyes, but the attempt at nonchalance revealed rather than hid her discomfort. “So I’ve noticed.”
    Kate followed Merrit’s gaze across the street, where Ivan exited Internet Café. She crossed her legs and let her toe tap Merrit’s shin. “That Ivan, such an odd little man, don’t you think?”
    “I only know him enough to get my wireless going.”
    “Have to keep connected, don’t we? I find it tedious, actually. The simplicity of communicating through email gives people license to blather all day long. It’s a bloody leaky faucet. Drip, drip, drip, all day long.”
    “That, and cell phones.” Merrit turned away from the window. “Wouldn’t it be nice to disconnect from our lives for a while?”
    Kate couldn’t imagine anything more depressing, but she nodded as Patsy set down coffee, fresh tea, and the traditional sandwich selection. Merrit grabbed up her cup like an addict a syringe. After a long, slow sip she sat back with a sigh.
    “I happened to be in Internet Café this morning,” Kate said, “and Lonnie mentioned the matchmaker’s birthday party tonight. You lucky thing, getting to join the fun.”
    Merrit raised an eyebrow. Her already direct gaze sharpened further. “Why do you keep looking at my chest?”
    Kate almost laughed. There was more to Merrit than the bland and distanced friendliness, to be sure. “Not what you think. I was admiring your necklace.”
    Merrit smiled and the movement transformed her face. Her cheeks balled up just enough to fill in the hollows beneath her cheekbones. And fancy that, perfect American teeth.
    “It looks old—family heirloom?” Kate said.
    The smile disappeared. “My mother’s.”
    Her mother’s. Once again, lucky her. Kate felt a surprise jolt of jealousy, which didn’t bother her except that it arrived with an unwanted companion: sorrow. She banished the feeling, but too late. Merrit’s expression softened toward compassion. Kate warned Merrit off with a chilly smile and chastised herself for allowing her thoughts to show.
    Merrit responded by biting into her sandwiches without finishing them. First the egg salad, then the cucumber, the watercress, and finally the cheese and tomato. All the while, she fingered the pendant dangling in the hollow between her collarbones. A bluish sheen slid across the surface of the stone when she moved.
    “Moonstones enhance intuition,” Merrit said after another coffee gulp. “At least, that’s what my mom always said. She was intuitive. She used to say I was too.”
    “Too easy. I’m sure the necklace meant something more to her. That’s the way these things work, isn’t it? I’m not big on symbolism and sentimentality myself, but I notice that most people love that kind of