But the inspector wasn’t finished. “Just because Crookshollow looks quaint and picturesque doesn’t mean it’s not possessed of its own dark criminal underbelly. I’m giving you a word of warning. Your friend Jane has been in and out of this station several times since she was sixteen. She runs with some unsavory characters, and we believe the kidnapping of her son may be related to gang activity. She is not the kind of friend you want here. Landowner or not, you are here on a Visitor’s visa, and if I find out you are caught up inanykind of criminal activity, I won’t hesitate to send you back to the States. Do I make myself clear?”
“Am I free to go?” I asked, meeting her stern look with one of my own. The nerve of her, dragging me all the way to the station to tell me who to be friends with. Not even my own mother would do that.
Of course she wouldn’t; she’s dead.
“Yes. Please don’t leave the county. We may wish to question you further.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said through gritted teeth.
I stepped out of the interview room, shaking with fear and rage. My heart soared when I saw Corbin and Arthur sitting on the hard benches outside. They rushed to me, yanking me away from Inspector Davies.
“We were so worried. Jane called and said they’d taken you here. They wouldn’t let us in to see you.” Arthur wrapped his huge, protective arms around me. His scent – hot smoke and deep musk – enveloped me, calming my nerves instantly. Exhaustion battled against desire in my head, and I longed for Arthur to pick me up and carry me to bed, his beard tickling my face as he whispered song lyrics in my ear.
“You’re not to speak to the police again without a lawyer present,” Corbin scolded. “I don’t care what they tell you. One wrong move here and we could be in serious trouble.”
“I’m more worried about Jane,” I murmured, thinking about what Inspector Davies said. Somehow, they were going to try and blame her for Connor’s kidnapping, which was so ridiculous it would be laughable if it wasn’t so deadly serious.
Outside, a beat-up old classic car straight out of a gangster movie sat in the visitor space. To my surprise, Arthur unlocked the driver’s side door and folded his huge shoulders inside. “Come on. Get in.”
Corbin rushed around and held the door open for me, but I shook my head. “If I get in that thing, it’s going to fall to pieces.”
Arthur stuck his hand out the window and thumped the hood. I swear I heard the car groan in protest. “This is a classic Jaguar Mark 2 from 1961. It’s a thing of beauty. They don’t make cars like this anymore.”
“Of course not,” I grumbled, wedging my legs into the tiny bench seat in the back. “They came to their senses.”
“Arthur’s a bit precious about this car.” Corbin slid into the front passenger seat. “But he’s the only one of us with wheels, so if we want to go anywhere beyond the village, or need a ride back from the shops or the pub, we have to play nice.”
“Speaking of playing nice.” Arthur steered the car out into the high street. The engine made a grinding noise. I gripped the edge of the seat, bracing myself for the coming explosion. “Youdidn’t have to go to the station to answer more questions. I don’t like that they took you in on your own instead of just asking follow-up questions back at the castle. I think they were trying to intimidate you. Tell us everything you told them.”
I recalled the questions as best I could, about putting my clothes on, and about Jane’s past. Corbin cringed at the Inspector’s harsh words.
“Jane’s choice of profession – which islegalin this country, by the way – doesn’t disqualify her from a dignified and thorough investigation into her son’s kidnapping.” Corbin’s voice rose in annoyance. “If I wasn’t so concerned that they might try to pin this on us, I’d turn this car around right now and give the Inspector a piece of my mind.”
“It’s probably for the best. I think turning this car around might cause a rip in space-time,” I said as Arthur lurched the Jaguar up Briarwood’s long, winding drive.
By now it was approaching two in the morning. A full moon shone through the trees, and as we rounded the last corner and drove under the inner gatehouse, Briarwood rose out of the shadows – dark and imposing in the gloom. Once again, I felt a surge of awe. These walls had seen hundreds of battles over the centuries, and they still stood high and proud. Briarwood would keep us safe.
Arthur swung around the side of the house, toward the Victorian addition Flynn used as a workshop. The garage door was modern, and Arthur hit a button and it rolled up. Corbin leapt out just as Arthur rolled the car inside. Flynn’s massive sculptures and piles of junk loomed down in precarious stacks on all three sides, giving Arthur only inches of clearance to jiggle the ridiculous car inside.
“I should have got out with Corbin,” I grumbled as I pushed at the door, vainly trying to make it open more than an inch.
“It probably would have helped,” Arthur grunted as he leaned his shoulder against his door and shoved.THUMP, THUMP, SMACK.Junk rained down on top of the car, but at least Arthur managed to slide out. I was still trapped inside the world’s most impractical car.
“Help me.” I tried the door on the other side, but it was no better. A hundred eyes of a large metal spider glared at me through the window.
“I’ll be there in a second.” Arthur battled his way over a giant metal robot with hub caps for eyes.
“Climb out the window,” Corbin suggested.
I ran my fingers along the door, searching for a button. But of course there wasn’t a button. My fingers wrapped around an enormous crank handle and I wound it down until the glass panel disappeared inside the door. I slid my body out, adding streaks of grease and dust to my already filthy clothes.
Corbin held out his hand and helped me clamber down the last slope of Flynn’s junk mountain. “I thought you told Flynn he had to clean this mess up,” he said to Arthur.
“I did.” Arthur touching a large tear one of Flynn’s contraptions had made in his Iron Maiden t-shirt. “Heclaimsthis is tidy. Something about a filing system.”
“The Irish have no sense of decorum,” Corbin grinned as we walked through the portcullis into the internal courtyard.
The door of the great hall flew open, slamming back against the stones with such force it might have splintered less sturdy wood. Flynn and Blake tumbled out, their arms laden down with bags and boxes.
