Nana stiffened. “Oh, really?”
I studied her. “Yeah. Have you heard of him?”
She pressed her lips together. “The name’s familiar. I’ll have to check back, but I think I’ve heard of that person.”
“Really? How so?”
“I don’t know. Somebody who used to live in Silverville. I’ll ask around.” She gave a small nod.
I cleared my throat. It was time to question her. “So, Nana, about this morning?—”
“No, Anna. Leave it alone. Your Nonna and I asked nicely.”
That was odd, in and of itself.
The bell over the door jingled before I could respond. Donna stepped inside, brushing rain from her jacket. “Hey, we finished shoveling up all the garbage. The place looks good again. I’ll bring over some pots I have and put flowers in them to cover the damage to the side wall. I know this is the rear of your building, not the front, but it still faces the bank across the street, so we should spruce it up a bit.” She straightened. “Why the heck was Henry in here?”
“He’s a process server,” I muttered. “Gloria is suing Nana.”
Donna’s brown eyes widened. “Are you joking?”
I stiffened. My older sister rarely used that tone. Donna was the kindest, most graceful, smartest person I knew until somebody pissed her off. Then everyone got out of her way. “I have the situation covered,” I said.
“How could she do that?” Donna asked.
“She’s just not a kind person,” Nana said. “You girls don’t worry about it.”
I chuckled. “It’s kind of my job, Nana. I’ll take care of it, I promise. I’m heading back over the pass to work in a little while.”
Donna stretched her neck. “Where’s Aiden?”
“He’s with Sheriff Franco.” I glanced toward the window. “I’ll see him before I leave town and also swing by the Elks to check the refrigerator to determine if there’s any way someone could have tampered with it before I go.” Though I bet Aiden already did.
A knock sounded at the back door.
“That better not be Henry again,” Nana muttered. “Come in.”
The back door opened. We were closed, yet people kept wandering in.
A tall and rather handsome man stepped inside, taking in the three of us before speaking. “I’m hoping to speak with Fiona O’Shea.” His accent was all British. He hesitated when his gaze landed on Donna. The air changed, and she blinked. Twice. “Please tell me that you’re Fiona,” he said.
“No, I’m Donna,” she said quietly.
“I’m Fiona,” Nana answered, moving forward to shake his hand. “And you are?”
He clasped her hand with an easy confidence. “My name is Cormac Coretti.”
The name hit the air like a challenge. Nana tilted her head, the lilt in her voice stronger now. “Your name sounds Gaelic. Cormac, as in son of the chieftain?”
He smiled. “Some say that. Others link it to the old Irish word, meaning raven. Raven’s son, which is a bit darker, don’t you think?” The man’s voice was smooth with a definite British accent. Not Irish or Italian.
Donna recovered her composure. “Which is it?”
Even his chin looked strong. “It depends what day you catch me on.”
“Cormac Coretti,” I said slowly. “You’re Irish and Italian?”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “Yes. Does that matter?”
