Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1) by K. Francis Ryan Page B

away with fragments and nothing more. Other times she is able to produce details with alarming accuracy.
    “The people of the village go to her. She is a witch for all seasons if you don’t mind me bending that phrase. Sometimes they come so that she can find a missing sheep or to see who stole a goat. Sometimes they bring their children to her to be frightened.
    “It’s true. People need to be frightened from time to time. Sometimes they come to her for things they believe are too big or too small for Dr. Dwyer to deal with or meself or our school principal, Sister Eugenia, for that matter.
    “The Hagan heals too – at least that is what the local people believe. Still, there is more to her than that. Oi don’t know what it is and Oi don’t want to know. The people here about believe, no, they know, she protects this valley. This troubles me and has for many years.”
    “But you don’t believe in her ability?” This was an important conversation to Julian and he had to keep it going.
    “She practices, as Oi said, the old religion and because of it, God has a soft spot in His heart for her.”
    Julian looked surprised.
    “Do Oi believe? Oi believe she is here and there is no shakin’ her loose. Oi believe she does good work in her own way, but that she has a robust dislike of Holy Mother the Church in general and priests in particular there is no doubt. Oi believe that God loves her as he loves all of us. Is there more in which Oi need to believe?” Father Fahey shrugged.
    Very little additional information emerged and Julian was left with unanswered questions. By noon, the men found themselves in front of the police station again having toured the entire village twice.
    “I would offer you tea, Father, but I’ve not laid in any supplies. I have many other questions,” Julian said.
    The priest smiled warmly, “Oi’ll give you time to settle in and the next time Oi’m in the area Oi’ll stop by for a visit and we can talk. But please, something a wee bit stronger than tea would be called for. Conversation is thirsty work.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with mischief and Father Fahey continued down the main road and back toward St Michael’s.
    Julian sat in one of the rocking chairs and stared into the cold fireplace. His thoughts drifted and soon he was recounting all the firsts that had occurred during his day in Cappel Vale.
    “First witch who may be more or not. First Lord Mayor. First time at facilitating a young man nearly cutting off some of his fingers. First time yelled at by an exceedingly pretty and exceedingly strange and angry woman. First time being followed by herds of children. First time being chastised by a priest for denigrating a village doctor,” Julian thought.
    “Overall,” he thought, “things could be worse.” He didn’t doubt there would be more firsts but he hoped they would be better firsts.
    ***
    When the door of the police station burst open, he was seated at the Desk Sergeant’s desk studying his map.
    “Sor, the Mayor says for you to come quick!” a ten-year-old boy shouted from the threshold.
    “Why?” Julian asked.
    “No time, sor. Just come quick to Mulherin’s Pub! There’s to be trouble with Sean Maher. He is with drink taken. The Mayor says you’re the only man who isn’t out in the field, and he needs all the help he can get. Besides you’re the police.” The clearly thrilled boy had gone at a run back up the street. Julian pushed back from the desk and picked up speed as he reached the road and followed the little boy to Mulherin’s Pub.

Chapter Eight
     
    A swarm of women and children had gathered and were peering in the windows of Francis Mulherin’s establishment. The front door hung by its hinges at a sharp angle. Julian worked his way through the crowd and stood in the doorway.
    A huge man stood against the bar and shouted, “So, ya little toad, you’ve called a filthy police constable!” as he pointed at Julian.
    “Now Sean