He was aware, of course. He was Rocky, intuitive—and much better at this than she, much more experienced.
“So then tonight,” Gary announced, “eh, you’ve learned about the Tuatha Dé Danann, the great race of Irish supernatural kings and queens, gods and goddesses, if you will, those of the distant past, revered ’til the coming of Christianity! Ye’ve learned of Dearg-Due—an Irish female vampire known long before Bram Stoker—an Irishman, I might add—created Dracula. We’ve talked about our Irish headless horseman—the Dullahan. Many more, and of course, those well-known, our leprechauns and our banshees! I’m now Gary the Ghost, signing off, wishing you sweet dreams—and reminding you, of course, that gratuities are not at all necessary, but deeply appreciated.”
“There’s a man worthy of gratuities,” Rocky said, coming to his feet and reaching down a hand to help Devin up to hers. He pulled her into his arms. “Love it here. So far, it’s a great honeymoon,” he told her, green eyes dancing.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Devin promised.
Rocky laughed. “I mean it—I love it. Who gets to stay in the haunted master’s suite of a family-owned castle? Sit beneath a crystal moon and hear old-fashioned storytelling in such atmospheric conditions? Then again, who gets to bathe in a great old claw-foot tub like the one up in our room? Okay, maybe they have those other places, but it’s pretty cool looking, don’t you think?”
Devin grinned. “Definitely. Yes, we’ll put that on the evening’s agenda.”
Rocky might have been about to say something a bit risqué, but Gary Duffy finished speaking with some of his other customers and came to shake hands with Rocky and smile at Devin.
“So?” he asked, sounding a bit anxious, looking from Rocky to Devin. “I hear you’re the American cousin.”
“I’m Kelly Karney’s cousin, yes,” Devin said.
“Lovely to meet you. Or meet you again. I think I saw you once before—when we would have both been kids,” Gary said.
“Possibly—I was here once as a teenager,” Devin said.
“And how do my tales match up with family lore?” Gary asked.
“Wonderfully,” Devin assured him.
“The night was great,” Rocky told him. “You’re really entertaining. Certainly one of the best guides I’ve ever seen.”
“Ah, now coming from an American, that is a great compliment,” Gary said. He was an engaging man of medium build, in his late twenties, with a thatch of red hair, freckles, and a contagious grin. “I hear you’re staying in Collum’s old suite—the old master’s suite.”
“It’s where my cousin has asked us to stay, yes,” Devin said.
“I guess you’re not the scared type then,” Gary said. “No, you’re not. To be honest, I looked you up. Krewe of Hunters, eh? You’re FBI. I am a bit confused. Collum died of a heart attack. And the FBI has no jurisdiction here.”
“Kelly is my cousin; we’re here to be with her,” Devin explained quickly.
“Ah, yes, of course,” Gary said. “We’re all hurting from the loss of Collum. St. Paddy’s Day won’t be the same without him, but—tradition. Time marches on and cares little for any one man, eh? Well, I’m curious, I must say. Some call you people the ‘ghost unit.’ Are you a ghost unit? Does the American government really believe in such a thing?”
“That question from a man who goes by the moniker ‘Gary the Ghost,’” Rocky said lightly.
“I make my living telling such tales,” Gary said. “And real history, too, of course—stranger and sadder than most ghost stories. But, alas! The world enjoys a good scare and luckily for me, Irish folk are full of fancy. I apologize again—I didn’t mean to be rude. But…I am a historian and a curious type. Like I said, when Kelly told me that you were coming and that you were with the law in America, I looked you up.”
“When we’re working,” Rocky said, “we investigate cases that have something unusual about them—something unexplained. We find the explanations. But, I assure you, I’ve never heard of a case of a ghost murdering a man as of yet.”
“So, you’ve heard the suggestion that a ghost might have murdered old Collum?” Gary asked.
“Everyone seems to be edgy—with lots of talk about the banshee,” Rocky told him.