The Wild Sight by Loucinda McGary Read Free Book Online Page B

truthfully added, “It’s never been like this before.”
    McRory’s grip relaxed a fraction. Eyes squeezed shut, Donovan pivoted around on the stool so that he faced away from the body.
     Very carefully, he opened his eyes and looked into Professor McRory’s worried face.
    He drew in a deep breath. “I’m all right now.”
    The professor’s expression shifted from concern to conjecture “I’ll be the judge of that. Michael, Johnny, help me get him
     back to the cottage.” He motioned in the direction of the body. “That knacker won’t be going anywhere before the PSNI arrives.”
    To Donovan’s dismay, the two young men were staring goggle-eyed at him. He shook off McRory’s hand and got to his feet. “I
     really am all right.”
    “Be that as it may,” McRory insisted and turned to walk back up the slope. “There’s aspirin and what-not back at the cottage,
     and I for one, could do with a shot of Bushmills.”

    Rylie slammed her half-empty mug of tea in the sink and stuck her head out the open cottage door to stare at the disappearing
     figures of the three men. She was debating whether or not to follow them when Sybil flipped her cell phone closed and stood
     next to her.
    “Police are on their way.” She confirmed. Then she muttered under her breath, “Shite! Shite! Shite! This’ll make a right hames
     of everything!”
    “Excuse me?” Rylie turned to see the other woman sink onto the closest camp cot, toss the phone aside, and bury her face in
     her hands.
    Draped in an oversized green sweater, Sybil’s thin shoulders shuddered in a silent sob. “Sorry,” she mumbled between her fingers.
     Then she raked her sweater sleeve across her eyes.
    “Things were going so well ’til now. This was turning out to be the find of Aongus’s career.” Her voice turned sullen. “But
     now the police will shut us down whilst they investigate. And who knows how long that’ll take?”
    Rylie pulled a clean tissue from her pocket and offered it to Sybil. “I suppose that’s time you and Aongus can’t be together?”
    The other woman nodded and wiped her nose while Rylie pulled over the stool and sat opposite her.
    “Because of his wife?”
    “Bloody hell!” Sybil moaned. “Am I that bleedin’ obvious?”
    “Only because I’ve been there and done that,” Rylie admitted, surprising herself as well as Sybil, but some part of her wanted
     to spare another woman needless pain and betrayal.
    Sybil rolled her eyes and snorted. “I’m finding this hard to believe, Miss . . . Rylie. ’Tis plain that you fancy Mr. O’Shea,
     and he you, and I know for a fact he’s single.”
    “It happened a long time ago.” Actually less than a year, but it felt like another lifetime. Then the impact of Sybil’s second
     statement hit, and Rylie looked askance. “Trust me, I’m the last person Donovan O’Shea is interested in.” She touched the
     other woman’s hand and held her gaze. “But you must believe me, Sybil, an affair with your married boss will end badly. It
     always does.”
    “No, Aongus is different.” She threw off Rylie’s hand and jerked her head aside to break eye contact. “He only married herself because of her position at Queen’s. This find will secure his career, and he won’t need herself any more. Besides, he—”
    Sybil’s words stopped suddenly and Rylie noticed a shadow flickering across the open door. She craned her neck and saw two
     men approaching, one with a wild mane of carrot-red curls, the other a typical Irish brunet with his hair clubbed back in
     a ponytail. Giving one last swipe to her nose, Sybil met them at the door.
    “What’ve that pair of gobshites done now, Syb?” the redhead demanded, then seeing Rylie, he flushed in embarrassment. “Pardon.
     Brian Finlay, and this is Frank Casey.”
    “Rylie Powell.” Rylie stood and shook the brunet’s extended hand. Both men looked older than their colleague Johnny, though
     several years younger than