Night of the Dark Horse (An Allegra Fairweather Mystery) by Janni Nell

as his mates started to back away. “She’s got balls, that one.” I took that as a compliment, although I was sure he hadn’t meant it that way.
    When Colum realized his mates weren’t going to hang around, he stared into my half-closed eyes. “Leave Dingaleen.”
    For once I was smart enough not to tell a bad guy to fuck off. I lay still until their voices faded away. The world spun as I got to my feet. It took a while to get my bearings and find my way back to the road, where I’d left the car. And Aedan.
    He was leaning against the car talking to the old Chinese guy I’d seen on my jog the night before. When the old guy caught sight of me, he inclined his head in acknowledgement then walked silently away.
    “Who was that?” I asked.
    “Tourist,” said Aedan. “He offered to take me to a doctor, but I insisted on waiting for you.”
    “How you doing?” I lifted the T-shirt he held to his head and checked the gash. Still bleeding way too much. I shouldn’t have left him to chase Colum. So stupid. What had it achieved? Exactly nothing.
    Aedan took a closer look my face. “Did Colum do that?”
    “Lucky punch. Does it look bad?”
    “Not so bad.” Then he muttered, “Feckin’ Colum hittin’ a woman.”
    “Trust me, this woman hit back.” Shame I hadn’t actually hit Colum, but Aedan didn’t need to know how he’d tricked me.
    Aedan raised his clenched fist. “Colum will pay for this.” So cheesy, but I appreciated the sentiment.
    “Better get you patched up before you take on Colum,” I said. “Where does that doctor live?”
    “His name is Dr. Gallagher.”
    “Right, and his address?”
    “The Lane, where old Deirdre Flynn lives.”
    It was only a couple of blocks away, but Aedan was in no condition to walk. I opened the car door. “Get in and don’t forget to buckle your seatbelt.” I wasn’t taking any chances with him.
    Thankfully the car had only suffered minor damage when I ran off the road. It started immediately.
    I drove in silence until he said, “Stop here. This is Doctor G’s place.”
    The doctor and his wife were watching TV, but he seemed happy to abandon his soap opera for a patient. Although he had retired several years earlier, he was used to treating people in emergencies. Just as well, because there were no other doctors in the village. Aedan insisted on him checking me out too.
    I protested, “Really, there’s no need, I’m fine.”
    Dr. Gallagher told me, in the nicest possible way, to shut up and let him do his thing. He wanted me to go for an X-ray, and though I promised to do it in the morning, I was so lying. My face was fine...except for the nagging pain. But I could deal. I got off a lot lighter than Aedan, who needed stitches in his head.
    I did score a prescription for Mrs. Gallagher’s tea, which would apparently make me feel a whole lot better.
    At first I declined, but Mrs. Gallagher, with her frizzy gray hair and soothing manner, wouldn’t take no for an answer. She soon had me settled in a fat armchair holding a delicate porcelain cup and saucer. Gold-rimmed, lilac floral pattern—the kind you’d expect Elizabeth Bennett to use when she wasn’t busting Mr. Darcy’s balls.
    “Biscuit?” offered Mrs. Gallagher. “They’re choc-chip.”
    Mmm, my favorite, except I called them cookies. What’s in a name, right? They’d taste as good in any language.
    Mrs. Gallagher folded her neat, if a bit saggy body, into the twin of my chair and inhaled the aroma from her own cup. “Excuse my dressin’ gown. Declan and I like to get comfortable in the evenings. Old age, you know,” she added, as though getting older was no big deal. “Would it be impolite to ask how your case is goin’? Sure, I understand some things are confidential, but I’m intrigued by the life of a paranormal investigator. Do you specialize in pookas?”
    “I handle all kinds of paranormal problems.” I didn’t want to tell her this was my first genuine Irish pooka. Of