Fatal Roots Read online

  “Susan, that’s great. Are we actually ready to install anything?”

  Susan dimpled. “You’re asking me? I’ve never done anything like wiring or plumbing in my life. I’m okay with painting and washing windows. But I think Rose and I are going to need some help. Let’s see what the guy says later—he should know, and he’d probably like to suck up to Mom if he wants to keep his job.”

  Maura wanted to tell her that sounded crude, but it wasn’t exactly her responsibility. “Are they losing staff at the hotel?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how many people work there, or if any have left. I’m pretty sure everybody there is nervous, since nobody knows if Mom’s company is going to sell the place or make it into something that isn’t a hotel. Or just keep it the way it is, only better.”

  “What do you think of it?” Maura asked.

  “Me? I don’t go to a whole lot of hotels. Sometimes with Mom, when she doesn’t know what else to do with me. Seems nice, and it’s kind of interesting. The gardens and stuff are really cool, and the food I’ve had there was good. What kind of people are they trying to attract?”

  “To stay there, you mean? I don’t know. I’m not much of a hotel person. I’ve worked in a few bars in Boston, but that’s not the same. And Boston is a big city that thinks it’s important, so some places are really fancy. And expensive. This is kind of more country. Have you seen the grounds at the hotel?”

  “Not all of them, not yet. The brochure says there are some really odd things there, like this big hole in the ground that somebody dug. And there are lots of big trees.”

  “Then you know as much as I know.”

  Maura turned away to fill a pint for a customer who had wandered in. She didn’t recognize him, but she wasn’t about to turn him away.

  The next person to arrive was Ciara. Maura did a double take to make sure of what she was seeing. “Ciara? Welcome. Where’ve you been? Where are your friends?”

  “Hey, Maura,” Ciara said, sliding onto a bar stool. “I’ve been looking for Darragh, but no luck. He’s just vanished. No call, no note. No sign of his car or that expensive radar machine he borrowed. Can I have a pint, please?”

  “Sure. Were you looking around here, or did you go back to Cork city?”

  “A bit of each, I guess. But no one’s seen him anywhere.”

  “Where’s Ronan?”

  “He’s in Cork. He says this area kind of spooks him. He’s more into flying the drones than looking at what the drones can show him.”

  “Did he know Darragh well, or was Darragh your friend?” Maura asked, as she topped off a pint of Guinness.

  “I’m not sure how well he knew Darragh before we decided to come out this way. We’d been in a few of the same classes, Ronan and me. I did know Darragh before—I saw him at the university now and then, but not often. This whole thing is so messed up!” She grabbed her pint and drank down a large portion of the glass. “Maybe all those stories about fairies haunting places are true. I’d rather not find out the hard way.”

  “You mind if I ask you something?” Maura asked her. Ciara just shrugged—she looked drained. “Did you ask the gardaí in Skibbereen to help you find him?”

  “Why would I do that? He hasn’t done anything wrong. Except disappear without telling me or Ronan. Or anyone else.” Ciara looked near tears.

  “Did he have any enemies in Cork?” Maura felt stupid asking, but she thought she should check.

  “Maura, he’s a student! He hasn’t committed any crimes. He doesn’t deal drugs. He likes his research. Why would he have enemies? And why would I need the gardaí?”

  “Aren’t you worried about Darragh? I mean, how often does he disappear like this?”

  “How’m I supposed to know? We aren’t a couple or anything. We happen to share classes and like the same kind of research. I told him what I was thinking of for a summer research project, and he volunteered to come along. He said he could get a ground-penetrating radar from the department and he wanted to see if it was a useful tool. That’s all.” Ciara drained her glass and pushed it toward Maura for a refill. “And that’s how I connected with him and I saw the radar thing. And now both are missing.”

  “So is he on the trail of something that he didn’t want to tell you about? Did he get gored by a bull in a field somewhere? Ciara, what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, and burst out crying.

  Clearly she cared more about Darragh than she was willing to admit. Maura wavered only half a minute. Then she took Ciara’s arm and carefully led her into the back room for some privacy. And then went back to the front, pulled her mobile phone from her pocket, and called Sean. When he answered, she said quickly, “Sean, I’ve got Ciara here. I think you’d better talk with her while you can. And no, Darragh isn’t here, and Ciara says she still doesn’t know where he is.”

  “On my way,” Sean said, before he hung up.

  Maura walked back to the second bar, where Ciara was leaning on the surface and sniffing. “Ciara? I asked Sean Murphy to come talk to you about anything you’ve learned since the last time you spoke. He’ll be here soon. He’s a good guy, and you can trust him. He’s trying to help.”

  Ciara blew her nose. “Sure, why not? Things can’t get any worse, can they?”

  Only if we find Darragh’s body. Maura shook her head, more for herself than for Ciara. “Things will be fine.” She hoped.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dealing with Ciara, Maura realized how bad she was at comforting a sobbing woman, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She didn’t want to leave Ciara alone, especially since there was more than one way to get out of the back room, which meant Ciara could disappear again. But Maura wasn’t about to let Ciara slip away. Not without getting some answers. If there were any, which she was beginning to doubt.

  Mick poked his head in the door, and Maura slipped over to see what he wanted. “Sean’s out front,” Mick said. “Should I send him back here?”

  “Please.”

  A minute later Sean let himself into the room quietly and pulled the door shut behind him. Ciara didn’t seem to notice his arrival.

  “Miss McCarthy? Mind if we talk?”

  Ciara looked up, her eyes bleary. “Sure, fine. Sit down. But I don’t know what I can tell you.”

  “Can yeh stay while I talk with her?” Sean asked, looking anxiously at Maura. “Yeh’re more of a friend to her.”

  “Sure, why not?” Maura wasn’t sure how to define her relationship with Ciara, but it was more than a pair of strangers. Maybe having another woman in the room would make things easier for Ciara. Or not. This whole situation was far outside Maura’s experience, and she was making it up as she went.

  Maura put on her public voice. “Sit down, Ciara, Sean. Anybody want coffee or tea?”

  “We should get started,” Sean said. “I don’t want to keep yeh long, Ciara, but I’m glad yeh came in today. Maura’s told me a bit about yer background, but I’d like to be sure of the details. Could we go through what yeh’ve told me before, to be sure I got it right? You’re a student in Cork?”

  “Graduate student,” Ciara corrected him quickly. “In archaeology, particular in Ireland. I’m working on a project involving fairy forts …”

  Once she started talking, she didn’t stop. Maura paid attention to what Ciara said, but found herself wondering what she’d been doing for the past couple of days—and whether she actually did know where Darragh was. Unless, of course, he was dead. Would Ciara know? But Maura couldn’t find any reason he’d be dead, and she didn’t dare interrupt Sean’s careful interrogation. She hoped Ciara was telling the truth.

  It didn’t take Ciara long to outline how they had come to choose County Cork, and what their timetable was supposed to be. By the time Ciara’s voice slowed, Maura had noticed there were details she hadn’t mentioned. She glanced at Sean, who gave her a small nod to go ahead.

  Maura cleared her throat. “Ciara, you said
you knew Darragh before you came here, right?”

  “I told you as much. We weren’t close, but we both knew quite a bit about prehistoric rural monuments. Plus, he knew he could borrow a radar device. He and Ronan arrived after I did. They stopped here first, looking for me. Remember?”

  “Yes, I do. And I know you were all at the fairy fort yesterday morning,” Maura said. “I was there with you, but I left early to get to work. You called and told me that Darragh wasn’t there, and he hadn’t told anyone where he was going. Is that right?”

  Ciara nodded. “Ronan and I went into Skibbereen to get some food for lunch, and when we came back, Darrah was gone. We didn’t find him there anywhere around the fairy fort. And he took the radar unit with him.” Nothing Maura hadn’t heard before. Ciara went on. “Ronan and I looked around for him, but we didn’t find anything—no note, and no sign of the things he had brought. Maura and Mick helped look too. No one’s seen him since—is that right, Garda Murphy?”

  “It is, Miss McCarthy. He’s not appeared at the place where you three were stayin’?”

  “No, not since he left the fairy ring that morning, with us.”

  “Would he have gone back to Cork?” Maura asked.

  “Not without telling us,” Ciara said firmly. “And we wouldn’t have minded, if only he’d let us know. We’re just beginning our research.”

  “He looked kind of older than you. Had he been a student longer?” Maura asked.

  “He never said,” Ciara told her. “I think he’d skipped a semester now and then, so he was taking his time.”

  “Did he know much about the fairy forts?”

  “More than Ronan and I did, but I think he was most familiar with those in West Cork.”

  “Was he from here?” Sean asked.

  “No, or not lately. Maybe he knew there were more monuments around here than in other regions. There’s quite a few along the coastline, and we were looking for distribution patterns.”

  “Do yeh think somethin’s happened to him?”

  “Like what? He fell off a cliff? We weren’t close to any. He fell into a lake? Same thing, and someone would have noticed, would they not? He’s hiding out in an abandoned house? Maybe no one would see him, but why would he do it? Or he simply got bored with Ronan and me and went back to Cork city.”

  “Did he have a girlfriend there? Or a boyfriend?” Maura asked suddenly.

  Ciara turned toward her. “Not that he ever mentioned. And he made no personal calls once we arrived here. He preferred to be alone, as near as I could tell. He worked hard, but he kept to himself.”

  “So we’ve nothin’ more to work with,” Sean said, sounding depressed. “There’s not much more I can do, seein’ as there’s no crime.”

  “This kind of thing doesn’t happen in the country!” Ciara protested. “He had few friends or enemies. We decided to go exploring West Cork while the weather was fine, and then he disappeared. Maybe he’ll turn up in some other place, or maybe he’s dead in a hole in the ground. We don’t know!” She was beginning to sound hysterical.

  “He doesn’t do drugs, does he?” Maura added. She had to admit she was grasping at straws. “Or does he have some kind of disease that would knock him out?”

  Ciara shook her head. “Not that I know about. I do hope he’s all right.”

  “We’ll keep our eyes open for him,” Sean told her gently. “If you should hear from him, please let me know. Will you be staying around here any longer?”

  “Maybe,” Ciara snuffled. “A few days.”

  “That’s grand. Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Do yeh want to stay here fer now, or shall I take you back to where yer staying?”

  “I’ll go now, but I have my car. I just stopped in here to see if Maura had heard any news.”

  “Then drive safely, and let me know if you learn anythin’,” Sean said.

  Once Ciara had gone out the front, Maura sighed. “This is getting ridiculous. Nobody’s seen the guy, dead or alive? He’s just a student! And I can’t imagine that the radar machine thing could have been worth enough to kill him for, but that would mean he took it with him. None of this makes sense.”

  “I’d have to agree wit’ yeh, Maura. It may be that someone did him harm, but why? And what did they do with his remains?”

  “You’re supposed to have the answers to that, not me, Sean. And why of all the places in West Cork did they land on my property? There must be other examples of these rings that are easier to see and get to. And I certainly don’t know a thing about the history of fairy forts. Or much else around here, either.”

  “Don’t worry yerself, Maura. I’d best be on my way back to Skib, on the chance that the man will pop up somewhere. Dead or alive.”

  “Good luck with that, Sean. But thanks for coming by.”

  She led Sean to the front door and watched him walk down the street. Then she turned and scanned the room. There were a few patrons, some clearly local, others tourists. It wasn’t exactly bustling, but it didn’t look empty either. Mick looked at her from behind the bar. “Did Sean have anythin’ to add?”

  “No. Ciara was a soggy mess. She said—again—that she didn’t know Darragh well. She says they aren’t a couple, but I’m not convinced. Not that it matters—she doesn’t seem to have any ideas about how to find him, and she claims she hasn’t seen him since before lunch yesterday. I think she said Ronan went back to Cork city, and she didn’t know if or when he’s coming back here. And that is all I know. Not much help, is it?”

  “All too little,” Mick agreed. “And Sean had nothing more?”

  “Nope. Maybe it’s hard to hunt for someone you’ve never seen, who doesn’t know the area and could have gone anywhere, or left entirely. Are we making too much of this?”

  “There’s still the dead man to think of.”

  “True. Sean didn’t mention that to Ciara. But from what you and I saw, he has nothing to do with Darragh. Tell me this, Mick—do you think they were looking to see if any or all fairy forts had burials in them, or were they looking for this specific one, whoever he is?”

  “I can’t say, Maura. From what I know, they’re fairy portals, and the fairies wouldn’t welcome a human corpse on their doorstep. So your dead man would be the exception.”

  “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or not, but I suppose it improves the odds that somebody will know who is he and why he’s there. What will they do with the body, if nobody can identify him?”

  “I’ve never had reason to ask that. But yeh must know there are more bodies than stones in many of the burying grounds around here. Do yeh know where yer grandfather was buried?”

  “Gran never talked about it, and I didn’t ask. I know Gran didn’t have much money and moved to Boston as fast as she could after he died, so maybe she couldn’t afford a marker—all her money went to boat tickets for herself and her son. I don’t think Helen would have asked her. I’m not sure Helen even knows where my father is buried. And I’m guessing it’s not worth looking for Donovans around here, because half the people I meet are Donovans. You knew Old Mick, right?”

  “I worked fer him, fer a few years. Why do yeh ask?”

  Maura ignored his question, since she wasn’t sure herself. “Were you friends? I mean, did you sit around and talk on slow days?”

  “No. He was much older than me, and I wasn’t feelin’ very talkative then, as you know. But he didn’t pry. He knew my gran, bein’ neighbors, but they weren’t close. Mostly polite, and they’d do favors for each other now and then, after my grandfather passed on. He’s buried in Leap, if yeh’re wonderin’.”

  “Old Mick’s buried here in Leap? At the church up the road? Nobody’s mentioned that.”

  “That he is. People all but forgot that he had a house somewhere else—he spent a lot of nights upstairs here, and there was no one to go home to. If I recall, it was Old Billy who settled where to put him in the end, and nobody complained. They’d been friends a long time.”

/>   “They weren’t related?”

  “They never said, but I’d guess no. They were old men with no family to turn to, no more. Never married.”

  Maura digested that for a moment. “And then somehow I ended up in the mix, and I’m not related to either of them. That I know of, at least. Lots of people around here seem to keep secrets.”

  “You’ve already said yer gran fixed it with Old Mick that you’d end up with the pub and the cottage. And yer gran knew Bridget, who lived down the lane from him. It’s no more complicated than that. If they’d had children, yeh might never have come here.”

  “Old Mick had a pretty good amount of land, if you add it all up. Didn’t someone around here want it?”

  “I’d never heard, if it’s true. Old Mick was a man who didn’t talk much about himself. I’d be guessin’ he inherited it from his family back a ways. Yeh could look it up if yeh wanted. There’d be records in Skibbereen.”

  Maura was getting more and more frustrated. “Mick, I’m happy with the cottage. I don’t need any more land, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Just finding out about the fairy fort has been confusing enough. If Old Mick had no family around here, who’s in the circle? Did Mick put him there, or didn’t he even know anyone was buried there? It sounds like a dumb question, but people have been telling me that most folk won’t go near a fairy fort, much less bury someone in it.”

  “That I can’t tell yeh, Maura. Like we’ve been sayin’, nobody ever talked about it.”

  “Do I have to do an exorcism or something to clean it up?”

  “Leave the site alone fer now—nobody’s goin’ to disturb it.”

  “Not even the gardaí?”

  “No more than Sean and his lot have already done.”

  “And what if no one ever figures out who it was?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time. Don’t worry yerself about it—yeh had nothing to do with the man.”

  “I hope that’s true.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The conversation with Ciara and Sean had eaten up a chunk of Maura’s afternoon. Not that she’d had any specific plans for the time, but she wished somebody would come up with some information about the dead man. It wasn’t that she was bothered by bodies, but this one had come with so many attachments: a piece of land—one of several?—she hadn’t known she owned; a group of eager archaeologists exploring that land and its singular monument; the disappearance of one of those people beyond even Sean’s ability to locate him; the semi-disappearance of the other two people, although now Ciara had reappeared and reported that Ronan had bailed and gone back to Cork. Still no sign of the third person, Darragh, dead or alive. The body from the ring fort had been excavated, and Sean had said the gardaí had shipped it to Cork Hospital for a professional examination. Sean’s guess was that the body had been buried for quite a few years, though it was hard to be exact, and he guessed the man had been around forty at the time he died and he didn’t think it was worth doing more than the required minimal autopsy. That was all anyone seemed to know.