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

intended insult, I asked again, “Can I speak with Liam?”
    “No.”
    Would I take no for an answer? Not in this lifetime.
    “This is really important, Mrs. O’Reilly. Whether you believe in the pooka or not, people have been injured. It’s only a matter of time before someone dies. Liam might have information that will lead me to the—um—wild horse,” I said, using language she’d be sure to understand. “When I stop the horse, no one else gets hurt. Including your family.”
    “Are you threatening me?”
    “The only threat to you is from the poo—the wild horse.”
    “Mum,” called one of the golden-haired twins. “We’ve finished our maths homework. Can we do some history now?”
    These kids were how old? They looked about five, but maybe they were small for their age.
    “Be there in a minute,” called Mrs. O’Reilly. She began to shut the door in my face.
    “Not so fast,” I said, forcing it open. “About Liam...”
    She sighed and glanced over her shoulder to the room where the girls were studying. “Liam’s not here.”
    “Where is he?”
    “He’s run off again. There’s no telling when he’ll be home.”
    I repeated, “Where is he?”
    “If we knew that, we’d have brought him home, wouldn’t we? He might be a naughty boy, but we always do our best for him.”
    Struggling to remain patient, I asked, “Where are his favorite places?”
    “He likes Pebbly Creek and those hills near the oak at the triple fork in the road. I think there are caves up there. Sometimes he stays out all night. We can’t control him.” Her composure almost slipped, but she pulled herself together. “If you find him I’d rather you didn’t speak with him about the paranormal. Filling his head with that nonsense will only make him more unmanageable.”
    We parted with deep mistrust on both sides.
    I began my search at Pebbly Creek. “Liam,” I called raking the banks with the beam of my flashlight. “Liaaam.” I fell silent listening for a kid’s voice to say, Okay , you found me . And , hey , I confess my alter ego is the pooka . Needless to say that didn’t happen.
    After a thorough search of both creek banks and a good section of the surrounding terrain, I had nothing to show for my efforts. Not even a wisp of pooka-dark hair. My frustration at not finding him wasn’t helped by my concern for his welfare. Eight was too young to be wandering the countryside alone at night.
    I left the creek, widening my search to include the nearby fields. When I saw a shadow moving toward me, I thought I’d got lucky. One sweep of my flashlight revealed that the shadow belonged to Casper, which was a whole other way of getting lucky.
    “What’re you doing here?” I asked.
    “I got bored resting on Cloud 9.” He noticed my face and the bruising Colum had inflicted, and his expression changed. “I didn’t know you were hurt.”
    “It’s nothing.”
    “I should have sensed you were in danger.”
    “What? From Colum? I gave worse than I got.” At least to Davin and Eamon.
    “I used to know exactly what was happening to you every second of the day. I could feel it.” He touched my bruised cheek. “I didn’t feel that.”
    “Hey, don’t sweat it. No biggie. Do you know where Liam is?”
    But Casper was still beating himself up over my injuries. “I’m so sorry, Allegra.”
    “Just drop it, okay.” When he continued to stroke my cheek, I said, “Seriously, enough,” and pushed his hand away. I was scared he might do something stupid like voluntarily resign from guarding me. “Focus on the case. Where is Liam?”
    “If he’s not here he must be...somewhere else.”
    “No shit, Sherlock. Care to elaborate?”
    “Look at this logically. If Liam is the pooka, and I’m not saying he is, where would he go?”
    “His mom said he liked the hills. Come on. We’ll take Ronan’s car.”
    As Casper climbed into the passenger seat, I said, “Don’t puke,” and hit the accelerator.
    Casper had no