Unlikely Hero-17

1

End of chapter 152

The multi-hued greens of the Irish hills mingled with the blue and white of a sky so close it seemed to kiss the earth. The large back yard porch, stretched across the rear of the Hailey home, was a comfort zone for Aileen. As a child, she’d been a princess here playing fantasy games secure beneath its roof so even the rain couldn’t touch her. Teen years brought sorrows, pleasures, and plans as she curled on a lounge dreaming her dreams. Spongy outdoor carpeting created the illusion of walking on grass. 3

When they’d first come out onto the veranda the afternoon sun seemed pleasant. Aileen Hailey was feeling a bit girlish. Ryan Mason had appeared unexpectedly and they’d shared tea with her mother. When he asked her to take a stroll with him, the possibility excited her. Ryan’s serious expression advertised he had something important on his mind. Aileen, fairly certain what it would be, began silently rehearsing her answer.4

She never expected their conversation to take such a disgusting turn. “If I saw him, I would have likely become another victim.” Aileen’s voice grew harsh. Now the sun battered down, threatening to muddle her thinking. She stalked off towards the shade—the blessed shade provided by the old gnarled oak at the end of the veranda. 5

Ryan’s questions had slipped out of the concerned lover mode into the insulting interrogator. He nearly called her a liar—and she was. So what! Why should she help Fred Cummins? Evidence that Cummins raped and murdered Nan Fitzgibbon grew stronger by the minute. Didn’t her dad tell her witnesses had come forth who’d seen Fred with Nan the night she was murdered? Several people identified his brother-in-law’s van as being parked near Nan’s house. A few smudged bloodstains were found on the floor rug of the vehicle. He’d obviously gotten some on the sole of his shoe and hadn’t noticed. The fool had scratches on his neck and shoulder, which he couldn’t explain. 6

Patio chairs and tables sparkled in their whiteness; a colorful umbrella topped each seating arrangement. A small bar with its own refrigeration was installed against the wall near the glass doors leading into the parlor. Ryan stood at the bar watching her.7

“Aileen. I know you think he killed Nan.” Mason’s voice remained calm though it rose slightly to overtake the distance she’d put between them. “But if Cummins’s story is true. If he met her at that pub, they had a few pints and he drove her home. She asked him in. Even if he didn’t leave within minutes as he claims, only stayed and attacked her. That’s a killing done on the spur of the moment.” He finished pouring a glass of white wine and brought it to her. “The murder of the priest was a planned and viciously executed crime.”8

She took the glass from him and sipped slowly as she contemplated. They’d talked for an hour before he’d gotten her to even admit that, yes; a black van had followed her into Belfast. Now he brought that subject up again. “Was he deliberately chasing you?”9

“I couldn’t be certain. I didn’t get out and ask.” She tried to be flippant. “I never saw the driver, his windscreen was too filthy. He never did catch-up to my Audi.” She chuckled as if such an occurrence was impossible. 10

When he continued to press her she admitted. “So, I was pulled over by the soldiers—so what? I don’t remember the exact time. Heaven’s Ryan, I didn’t look at my watch. I certainly didn’t eyeball any of the other drivers in that queue. A head cold was attacking and I was already feeling raunchy.” She perched on a chair and Ryan sat down beside her.11

Aileen hadn’t been prepared for any of this. When Cummins first brought her to the attention of the police, she’d squashed his claims. “The idea he should attempt to use me as an alibi is absurd. I wouldn’t remember let alone recognize the fellow. An old van racing my Audi?” she’d said. Aileen had sat then in her father’s office and smiled tolerantly at Investigator Keenan. She had believed that would be the end of her involvement.12

She never expected that solicitor to dare to hunt her up nor the press to print Cummins’s accusation. Now Ryan called her a liar. Oh he still hadn’t said liar! He said, “Aileen if you know where Cummins was between nine and nine-thirty that morning, you can’t keep that knowledge to yourself.”13

“Well, I don’t know.” She set the glass down rather hard and it rang on the metal table. She wasn’t about to change her story. Well, perhaps if Cummins was found to be innocent of Nan’s murder? If he was only charged in the death of the priest, she might reconsider. 14

“Ryan, luv, I think we’ve battered this to death. I don’t know Fred Cummins. I wouldn’t recognize him if he was sitting where you are. I certainly didn’t go racing the highway with some fool.”15

“He knows you. He knows you were at that checkpoint?”16

“Not me darling, my car. He saw my car on the road. I don’t deny that’s possible. I drove to Belfast, started getting ill and drove right back. He could have passed me coming or going. The soldiers were stopping cars leaving Londonderry for nearly two hours. If they can’t pinpoint the exact time, what makes you think I can when I never paid any attention to an old van?” Pushing the nearly full glass of wine away, she started to rise. She scrunched her eyelids and allowed an unhappy frown to distort her features. “I’ve been pestered by his lawyer and then the press, I don’t need this from you, Ryan.”17

“Wait.” He took her hand in his and pulled her back down. “I didn’t mean to come at you like a blooming cop.” He grinned. “Let’s begin this conversation again.”18

She groaned.19

“I meant with a change of subject.” He laughed softly.20

“And what might that be?”21

“I’ll be away for a few days.”22

“London?”23

He didn’t correct her assumption. “I plan to settle things quickly so I can be home next weekend. I thought you might coax your mum into planning a small party—nothing elaborate, mind you.”24

“A party for what?”25

“To announce our engagement.”26

‘Engagement!’ She didn’t say the word out loud. It was as if the word was too fragile; spoken out loud might shatter it. Her upset faded and she felt her face grow warm. “Sure, and do you think I might have something to say about that?”27

He squeezed her hand. “You will marry me?” 28

The slight apprehension that corrupted his cocksure expression made Aileen smile. It was definitely an improvement and she considered teasing him for bit. Playing the coquettish lass, shocked by the brutal assumption that he need only ask and she would bend to his will. How childish. “You never doubted I’d say yes.” 29