When Irish Eyes Are Haunting: A Krewe of Hunters Novella by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

There were winding streets that wove at odd angles off into lightly rolling land beyond and those, too, were filled with homes and businesses. They stretched out into the distance until the houses and buildings became further and further apart and rich, green farmland where sheep and cattle grazed was reached.
    The church and the village hall were at the center of Karney Lane, and Dr. Kirkland’s office was just two buildings down from the church.
    The receptionist who met them at the front was a thin-lipped, lean, and dour woman; she wanted to know their business and was disgruntled that they didn’t have an appointment.
    Devin was about to get angry; Rocky brought out the charm.
    She finally said that she’d check with Dr. Kirkland, but she wanted them to know, he was weary of hearing that a banshee had killed Collum Karney.
    Devin had been expecting a man in his fifties, perhaps, white-haired and typical of a charming country village. After meeting his receptionist, she thought he might be an old soldier—as rigid and grumpy as his receptionist.
    She was mistaken.
    Dr. Kirkland was a good-looking man in his thirties or early forties—polite and mystified, but happy to give them a few minutes of his time.
    “American reason here, I hope!” he said.
    “We hope it’s reason,” Rocky said. “But, of course, we’re here with the question you’ve surely answered a dozen times. Are you certain that it was a heart attack? You performed an autopsy?”
    “Ach!” Kirkland said, shaking his head with weary impatience. “Everyone wants to make something of nothing. Am I certain? Collum Karney died of a heart attack, plain and simple. I’d been telling him to watch the red meat and start more moving about for years. His poor arteries! They were as clogged as could be.”
    “I heard he died with a look of horror on his face,” Devin told Kirkland.
    Kirkland waved a hand in the air. “All the talk about ghosts and banshees a-wailing! Good lord, ’tis charming we have our legends and history.” He paused for a moment to grin at her. “And a history that pretty much so—as you Americans might say—sucks with invasions and battling, but, ’tis nonsense that he was frightened to death by a vengeful ghost! Why would a ghost seek vengeance on old Collum—a descendant?”
    “Yes, why would one?” Rocky said. “But, did you perform an autopsy?”
    Kirkland stiffened at that. “I did not cut into the man. I’d been treating him for years, warning him for years. I know a heart attack when I see one.”
    “Heart attacks can be brought on,” Rocky said.
    “You mean that sound? Wolves or the wind,” Kirkland said, disgusted. “And you think a man like Collum Karney would be frightened by the sound? You dinna know the man. He was a giant of a fellow—with clogged arteries!”
    We’re going to get nothing from him , Devin thought. And they didn’t have the authority to demand an autopsy.
    Brendan Karney, however, did.
    Rocky smiled pleasantly and thanked Kirkland for his time.
    “A pleasure, and welcome to the village. Everyone comes to Dublin—it’s nice you’ve come further,” Kirkland said. “We do get a fair amount of visitors now, because of the castle. We’d have more—if the Karney family allowed for a themed nightclub or something of the like. I’m afraid they’re a wee bit too filled with Karney pride—nothing that might mar their great history. It is wonderful history in a land invaded one time too many. Ah, forgive me, one of you is a relative, right?”
    Devin explained her family connection and Kirkland told them, “How fine! Well, as I was saying, we’re on the map now—what with the castle being a select destination these years. But, still, the castle, she has only ten rooms for let, and it’s the tourist eager to learn history who comes rather than the tourist longing for a few nights at the Temple Bar pub section in Dublin. Spicing it up to current times might help, don’t you