Buried In a Bog Read online

  There was no one there. The bastard! He’d just left? Well, of course he had—he’d made every effort to push her off the road. Intentionally. No wonder he had left in a hurry.

  With infinite caution Maura opened her door, inch by inch, afraid of jarring the car loose from its precarious perch. The car didn’t shift. Once the door was open, she swung her legs out. Still no movement. And then in one last burst, she thrust herself out, away from the car.

  She took one look at the car, tilted at what looked like a forty-five-degree angle, and sat down hard, mainly because her legs wouldn’t support her. She looked down at her hands to see them shaking. What had happened here? This made no sense. She looked back at the car, just sitting there, totally out of place in the landscape. Nothing else had changed: somewhere in a meadow below she could hear a cow lowing, but there were no human sounds.

  When her hands steadied, Maura remembered the cell phone that Ellen had given her. But the cell phone was in her purse—which was in the car. She’d have to go back to the car or hike to the nearest house with a phone. Which was easier? If she went back to Bridget’s house, she’d have to tell her what had happened, but Maura was afraid that the news might be too much of a shock for her. Besides, there were other houses nearer, and downhill. Car, she decided: she’d need her purse anyway, since it held all her identification. She stood up shakily, using a spindly tree for support, and approached the car as if it were a wounded animal and she was afraid a sudden movement would spook it. She had left her bag on the floor on the passenger side, so she cautiously opened the front left door. She held her breath as she reached into the car and extricated the bag. Then she backed away and sat down on the grass again. In her purse she located the cell phone. She flipped it open and punched in 999.

  A disembodied voice answered quickly, and she described as best she could where she was. The voice at the other end seemed to know where she meant. Yes, the car was off the road. No, she wasn’t injured—no medical assistance required. Yes, she would stay with the car until someone came. No, there was no one to call. The voice promised to have someone there shortly. Irreverently Maura wondered just what the Irish idea of “shortly” would be: Minutes? Days? As she waited, she tried to sort through her jumbled impressions and put together her story. She’d been driving normally, which in her case meant slowly and carefully. She hadn’t had anything to drink, or any medication. A person had come up behind her and used his car to run her off the road.

  She shut her eyes, to better remember what the other car had looked like. She had never paid much attention to cars in general and couldn’t tell one make or model from the next. She knew that the car had been small and brownish. Dirty? She hadn’t seen it from the side and had glimpsed the front only through the rearview mirror. She had a vague impression that it was battered—a crumpled fender maybe, or a cracked headlight? She couldn’t remember—she’d been a little distracted. Of course, she hadn’t gotten a license plate number—he’d been too close for that by the time she had noticed him. At least she could definitely say that the driver had been a “he”…unless it was a woman who had made an effort to disguise herself. But somehow she couldn’t imagine a woman driving the way this person had.

  And that was the end of her observations. Was her car all right? From where she sat, she couldn’t see more than a few dents in the front bumper from the trees she’d hit, and a surprisingly small number of dings on the rear bumper where the other car had hit hers, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t somehow disemboweled itself on the bumpy ride down. What had that other driver been thinking, and where had he gone so fast? Was he some lone crackpot who just wanted to get past her on the road? Back home she had seen plenty of macho men who thought they owned the road, but here?

  Maura was getting madder by the minute and couldn’t sit still, so she started pacing back and forth, looking alternately at the poor car and down at the road below where the expected police arrived a few minutes later. For a moment she was startled: with its blue light bar and bright yellow stripe; she had forgotten that Irish police cars didn’t look anything like the ones back home. She watched it come partly up the road, then stop, and a uniformed policeman climbed out and walked up the lane to where she stood by the car.

  For goodness’ sake, Maura thought, it’s Sean Murphy again. Is he the only cop in town?

  When he reached her, he said incredulously, “Maura Donovan? Again?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Officer Murphy. How’s your day been so far? Because mine is going downhill fast.” Stop with the bad puns, Maura—this is serious. “Can I call you Sean? You’re no older than I am, and it seems stupid to keep calling you ‘officer.’ Besides, we really ought to be friends now, since we see each other so often.”

  “Sean’ll do, then.” He seemed to be suppressing a smile. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. And I think the car is too, but I don’t know how to get it back to the road.”

  “Don’t you worry yourself about that. It happens to a lot of visiting Americans. Sure, and it’s not easy to learn to do everything on the other side—the wrong side, you’d say.”

  No way was she going to take the blame for this. “This was not an accident,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Sean nodded in what he probably thought was an encouraging way. “Something wrong with the car, then? The brakes went out, or the steering?”

  Maura shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Will you please listen…”

  The young officer went on, making an attempt to be soothing that only annoyed Maura more. “Sure, this must be distressing for you, on holiday and all. You just stay where you are, and I’ll call for assistance.”

  Maura’s anger boiled over. “SEAN MURPHY, WILL YOU PLEASE LISTEN TO ME?” He looked at her, startled, but at least she’d gotten his attention and jarred him from his script. “This was not an accident. Somebody ran me off the road. Deliberately. Which has got to be a crime around here, and you’d better start looking for the jerk who did it.”

  Sean gazed mutely at her. Clearly he hadn’t been prepared to deal with an angry woman. Then he seemed to gather himself together. “I’m sorry. My chief always says I’m too quick to jump to conclusions. Let’s make a new start. What did you want to tell me?”

  Maura took a deep breath, then suddenly paused. “You know this is Bridget Nolan’s car, which she loaned me to use while I was here—you don’t have to tell her about this right away, do you? Because she’s old, and I don’t know how she’d take it.”

  Sean Murphy waved that comment away. “Let’s see what shape you car’s in before we worry about saying anything to Mrs. Nolan. You were saying?” he asked, pulling out a pad.

  Maura quickly outlined the appearance of the driver and his determined efforts to force her off the road, and Sean carefully recorded what she said, looking equal parts concerned and puzzled.

  “Did you recognize the driver?” he asked.

  Maura shook her head. “I haven’t been here long enough to know many people. Besides, the guy had on a cap and sunglasses. I didn’t get a license plate. I was trying to keep my car on the road. And once he was sure he’d shoved me off it, he disappeared. I couldn’t tell you which way he went.”

  “I see. And I apologize for my earlier questions. We do get a fair number of confused tourists on the roads.”

  “I bet you do, but I’m not one of them. So, what now? Is the car okay? Do you have to get a tow truck up here?”

  Sean Murphy eyed the car critically. “You didn’t hear any loud noises—you know, crack, crunch, and so on?”

  Maura had to smile at his description. “Only the bushes.”

  He bent down to peer under the car. “I don’t see anything leaking, which is good. It’s an old car, and built like a tank, thank goodness.” He straightened up. “Let’s get it towed back to Skibbereen and have it checked out. I wouldn’t want you to come to harm driving it around now, not knowing if it’s safe.”

  “Soun
ds good to me, but I’ll need a ride back to Leap.”

  “Sullivan’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t need medical assistance? Don’t blame me—I’m required to ask.”

  “No, I’m fine, really. I wasn’t going fast, and I didn’t hit anything—except the brakes, and a few bushes on the way down. Mostly I was scared. And then mad.”

  Sean Murphy smiled. “Let me make a call, then,” he said. He walked away, a cell phone at his ear. Figuring it might take a while, Maura sat down again.

  Sean finished his call and sat down beside her. “All set—the truck’ll be here in a few minutes. Do you mind if we go over this again, while we wait?”

  “No problem,” Maura said.

  “I don’t suppose you noticed any possible witnesses?”

  Maura looked around her. Nothing had changed. “Does a cow count?”

  “They’re not very reliable.”

  In spite of herself, Maura laughed. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. Anyway, no, I even stopped at the top of the hill to check out where I was going. This guy showed up out of nowhere and started pushing me around.”

  “You described him as youngish, and wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.” When Maura nodded, he asked, “And the car?”

  “What I know about cars would fill a postage stamp. It looked ordinary and dirty. As far as I could tell, it had four wheels and a roof.”

  The officer smiled. “Well, that certainly narrows down our search. A male in a nondescript car, which might or might not have some front-end damage, maybe before and most likely after he’d pushed you off the road.”

  Maura leaned back and regarded him. “Do you believe me? You don’t think I’m just making this up, to cover up a stupid accident?”

  “I believe you,” he said solemnly. “I can’t think why you’d make up such a story. But I also can’t see why anyone would want to do you harm.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Chapter 16

  To her surprise, the tow truck arrived in less than fifteen minutes. The driver and Sean Murphy spoke briefly, and then the driver maneuvered his truck so that the winch at the back was turned toward Maura’s car. After another conference, the winch hook was attached to something or other, and as Maura watched, the car inched slowly up the hill. She winced when some part of the undercarriage scraped on the edge of the lane, but once it was back on the lane itself, Maura released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

  “What now?” Maura demanded. “I don’t know squat about insurance here, or if the car is covered.”

  “Don’t worry yourself. We can sort that out later,” Sean Murphy said.

  “It looks all right, doesn’t it?” Maura said dubiously. “But if there’s anything really wrong with the car, I don’t have any way to pay for repairs.”

  “Let’s take one worry at a time,” Sean said in the same patient tone.

  “But isn’t there going to be paperwork to fill out?”

  “Not at the moment. I’m guessing that there’s nothing really wrong with the car, so all you’d have to pay for is the tow and having it looked at to be sure it’s safe to drive. Is it Bridget Nolan who’d be the owner of record?”

  “Uh, I don’t really know. It may be Mrs. Nolan, or her late husband. Her grandson Mick would know, because he’s been the one taking care of it.”

  “I’ll ask him later, then. Tell me, are you sure there’s no one who’d want to do this to you?”

  Maura turned to glare at him. “I’ve been in this country all of five days. I’ve had conversations with maybe ten people, not including Mick and Jimmy at the pub and Rose and Ellen Keohane.”

  Officer Murphy was smiling at her. “I had to ask the question, but I agree that it seems unlikely that any one of them would do this.”

  “So…what? There’s no one with a grudge against me, so is it juvenile delinquents? Do you get kids joyriding around here? Just letting off steam? Are you going to interview people nearby to see if they noticed anything?”

  “I see no point to that. I know the road, and there’s no one near enough to have seen anything, even if they were at home. Did anyone know you’d be on this road?”

  “No, I’ve never even taken this road before. I was trying to find a new way back to town, and I’d only just made up my mind to try it. But that’s it. Does that mean the guy was following me? Or waiting for me to leave Mrs. Nolan’s house?” Even as she said it, she realized how ridiculous it sounded. Suddenly she felt drained. “That’s all I know. Listen, can you take me back to Sullivan’s now? Or should I go and wait at the garage where they took the car?”

  “Of course I’ll take you. And I’ll see that the car’s returned to you as well.” Sean led the way to his car, and they headed back along the road toward Leap. Maura found herself counting the houses that they passed. There was an old abandoned building at the bottom of the road—no witnesses there. Around another bend there were a couple of newish houses, but they were out of the direct line of sight for the hill.

  They arrived in Leap in a couple of minutes. Sean pulled over and parked his police sedan in front of Sullivan’s. Maura gathered up her bag and opened the car door quickly, worried briefly whether the sight of the police car would have an impact on business.

  “Thanks for the lift,” she said, and shut the door before he could answer. She entered the pub to find Mick behind the bar, polishing a glass.

  “What’s that about?” he asked, nodding toward the police car parked outside.

  “Car trouble,” Maura said curtly. “Jimmy’s not coming in today?”

  “We’re on our own. Everything all right?” Mick asked.

  “Depends on how you look at it,” she said. “Someone ran me off the road near your grandmother’s, but the good news is, I’m fine and we’re pretty sure the car is too—Officer Murphy there sent it to a garage to have it checked out.”

  Mick’s expression changed quickly to one of concern. “You sure you’re not injured?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not very fragile. Nothing damaged. Thanks for asking, though.”

  He gave her a long look but wisely didn’t comment. “Jimmy’s staying at home today—says he’s in a lot of pain from the arm and all. He said Rose’d be in later, and I’ll be in tonight. You won’t need to stay, if you’re not up to it.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? Besides, I really need the cash now—I’ve got to pay for the tow and any repairs the car needs.”

  “Don’t worry yourself—it won’t be much. The car’s been through worse.”

  Pride and relief fought in Maura’s head. If she owed money, she wanted to pay it, but she wasn’t sure how much she had, or how much would be coming in from her time at Sullivan’s. “Should be a busy day, what with that murder, eh?” She heard the door behind her open and turned to see Sean Murphy coming in. Mick straightened up and set down the glass that he’d polished several times.

  “Nolan,” Sean said.

  Mick nodded. “Murphy.”

  The officer turned to Maura. “I just got a call—the car’s fine. I’ve asked the man at the garage to bring it over to you. I’ll stay here to ferry him back to Skibbereen.”

  “Jeez, that was fast!” Maura said. “Did your mechanic friend really have time to look at it?”

  “He did that. He’s just down the road, before you get to the Skibbereen roundabout. He knows his business, if you’re worried about him getting it right.”

  “Well, great, thank you. Can I get you anything?” Maura asked, wondering if he was on duty or not and whether that mattered in Ireland.

  “Tea would be grand,” he said, settling himself on a stool at the bar.

  Mick silently filled a mug with hot water, dropped a tea bag into it, and set it in front of him. “Maura was just telling me there’d been some trouble with the car.”

  Sean looked at Maura, as if asking permission. She nodded. “She was pushed off the road, near
your gran’s. Is it her car?”

  “My grandfather’s name is still on the papers.” Mick glanced at Maura, his expression unreadable. “Ran her off deliberately, you mean? Why do you think anyone would do that?”

  “That’s what I’ve been asking myself,” Maura said sharply. “I haven’t done anything! I’m not hiding out in Ireland to escape the Mob or the police back home. I’m just a tourist. Why on earth would anyone be interested in me, much less want to hurt me?”

  “Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” Sean said mildly. He turned to watch a new arrival on the road: Maura’s car, with the tow truck driver at the wheel. The driver climbed out and came into the pub. “Car checks out fine, miss. The mechanic says they don’t build them like this anymore—real solid.” He laid the keys to the car on the bar in front of Maura.

  “I’ll take you back directly.” Sean turned back to Maura and Mick. “Have you seen anyone paying particular attention to this lady here lately?”

  Mick laughed. “Over the past few days we’ve had more people in here than in the full year before. Most people have said hello to her, at least—she’s a new face, and American at that.”

  “True, but it seems everyone’s been much more interested in the body you found in the bog, and then last night they were all talking about the new death,” Maura protested.

  “Well, keep an eye out, both of you,” Sean said.

  “Of course,” Mick answered, and Maura nodded.

  “Then I’ll be on my way. Let me know if anything else unlikely happens.”

  He and the driver went out to the garda car. Maura turned to Mick. “I’m sorry—you can take the car back if you want. Looks like I’m not taking very good care of it.”

  “He said it’s not your fault,” Mick said, nodding at the garda car as it pulled away. “If you tell me it’s no accident, I believe you.”