Storm Warning by Toni Anderson Read Free Book Online

took another deep breath and cleared his mind, concentrated on his question. Where are the journals? He grabbed a pen and wrote the word journals on a piece of paper. Pressed the paper and amulet to his forehead and closed his eyes. It took a moment for the pictures to slow down. Finally they separated into distinct images.
    Where are Iain Logan’s journals?
    He focused all his energy. The image of Iain Logan cradling a sleepy kid entered his mind. At last he was getting somewhere. A sense of rightness calmed the thud of his heart; he relaxed his shoulders, settled his blood. But when Iain Logan looked up and winked, he threw back his head and roared.
    ***
    Fog shrouded the crow-stepped gables and snared the glow of streetlights into discrete golden orbs. The atmosphere was dense and brooding, as if the darkness held its breath.
    The day has eyes, the night has ears.
    Her father had had a saying for every occasion. Sorcha blew out a misty breath. At least she finally remembered something about the man other than how he’d died.
    A headache pounded her temples and she rubbed tired eyes, wishing she wasn’t quite so desperate for a drink. She tucked her chin into the scarf her mother had knitted while undergoing chemotherapy three and a half years ago. It was the only thing her mother ever made her and she absorbed its comfort.
    Carolyn chatted as they walked along and, while it wasn’t helping Sorcha’s headache, at least it filled the evening with life and calmed her jitters. “We’re going to India! We’re going to travel around by train for three weeks and see the Taj Mahal.”
    Concentrating on the echo of their footsteps along the street, Sorcha zoned out. Carolyn was planning a vacation with loverboy. Sorcha resisted telling her friend not to spend any money yet, in case Kevin screwed someone else in the meantime. For smart women, they were both really dumb about men.
    Uncle Davy had phoned her today and told her they’d identified the boy she’d help pull out of the sea, confirming it was twenty-four year old Alec McCabe. The family had already scheduled the funeral for later this week and she hoped to attend. The thought depressed her.
    Outside the pub Carolyn grabbed her arm and swung her around so they faced each other. “I’m going to meet his parents.” Little sparks of happiness danced in Carolyn’s eyes and she had happily-ever-after written all over her face. Sorcha wondered if her own eyes had ever burned that brightly.
    Maybe. Once.
    She gave Carolyn a quick hug, silently vowing to disembowel Kevin if he broke her friend’s heart. Alarm prickled her spine as Carolyn smiled at someone over Sorcha’s shoulder. Even before she turned she knew it was the American. She’d had a crappy day and it kept getting worse.
    What was with the glare he’d given her earlier in the chip shop? As if he were a serial killer and she were his next victim?
    She hadn’t done anything to him. She’d even returned his clothes, clean and ironed, to his doorstep that morning before heading to work. Twisting to face him, she gave him a glare of her own, only to jolt away from the force of his smile.
    Bugger.
    With a nod, he opened the door and indicated she and Carolyn go first. Then he followed them into the dingy pub, staring around with interest.
    The Raven was a dive. A pokey, two-roomed bar with a scruffy pool table at one end and a dartboard at the other. Five black vinyl-covered barstools lined the bar, all filled with old men who turned to watch the incomers.
    They relaxed when they spotted her. As if she belonged. As if they knew her. Maybe they did. More than she wanted them to. Iain Logan had been a regular in the pub and she’d often sat in the corner with a packet of Walker’s crisps and a bottle of pop.
    “Aye, lass, what are you having?” asked the barman.
    “I’ll get this.” Ben Foley leaned his tall frame across the bar, a twenty-pound note grasped between thumb and forefinger. “What will you