Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,75
“He was your father. Of course you do.” No one ever said family was uncomplicated.
The muscle in his jaw clenched. “All this could’ve been theirs. My mam—” A shake of his head cut off the words. Lyse waited while he breathed deep, forced himself back under control. Finally a firm kiss landed on her head. “Let’s be goin’, yeah?” he said huskily.
The front of the manor had the same flat face as most of the places she’d visited while occasionally doing the tourist thing around Ireland. Small stone casements jetted out above the windows that marched like soldiers along the facade, and a shallow set of steps led to the double doors that waited at the top. If Lyse had to guess by the overgrowth of the landscaping and the encroaching woods, the place had been closed up since Robert’s death. Like the lost dreams Siobhan had shared with her husband, this place would be confiscated by the authorities, sold off; the family that was supposed to live here would never know the comfort of the strong walls around them.
Such a tragic fucking waste. Judging by the tense set of Fionn’s shoulders as they went up the stairs, he was thinking something similar.
After trying the doorknob—locked—Fionn dropped to his knees and pulled a pouch from the pocket of his fatigues.
“Lock picking?” she teased, wanting to lighten the mood, ease Fionn’s burden. “I had no idea that was a hidden talent of yours.”
His grin with half-hearted, but she could tell he was trying. “There’s very little I can’t unlock, open, plunder. I especially enjoy plundering.” He raised his eyebrows at her, and satisfaction seeped into his gaze when she laughed.
“I just bet you do.”
The lock clicked open. Fionn stood, threw a reassuring glance her way, then opened the door. Stale, musty air greeted them. Fionn passed her a flashlight, then flicked on one of his own, using it to illuminate the darkened front hall. Gesturing her forward, he said, “Ladies first.”
“No way.” Sweeping her light up his body, she grinned. “That height was meant for only one thing: taking down any potential spiderwebs we run into—or you do. As long as I don’t, I don’t care.”
Shaking his head, Fionn went first.
From the look of the dated furniture and the unfamiliar portraits on the walls, Lyse guessed that Robert had inherited everything from the previous owners. Probably waiting for Siobhan to put her personal stamp on the place. She looked at Fionn’s back. “Where should we start?”
With a methodical sweep, apparently. She shouldn’t even have needed to ask. “I came so we could split up the searching duties, you know,” she said as she followed him through the first-floor rooms.
“And let you be wanderin’ around an unfamiliar place, unprotected?” He threw an arrogant look over his shoulder—one brow raised, stern look in his eyes, mouth almost a smirk. “That was never gonna happen.”
She grinned at the American phrasing ince his back was turned. He’d sounded just like Deacon there for a moment, despite the accent. “At least tell me what to look for.”
“Locked rooms. Hidden passages. A big chest.”
“If I calculated right, that will be chests, plural.”
Fionn grunted a reply as he stepped into the kitchen.
Two hours later the house had been thoroughly searched and they’d moved on to outbuildings. At noon they stopped to eat and reevaluate.
“We’re not seeing any sign of anything,” Fionn said, rubbing an apple absently against his shirt. “Maybe we missed something in the house.”
Lyse cleared her throat, hating what she was thinking but knowing she had to say it anyway. “Maybe I made a mistake?”
“No.” Fionn took a big bite, then chewed thoughtfully. “No, I think you’re right. This place fits perfectly. It’s just a matter of looking in the right spot.”
They ate quietly for a few minutes, Lyse turning the options over in her mind. It was definitely possible they’d missed something in the house. Or maybe they’d missed something on the grounds. And they were running out of time to figure out which.
Or…
“I noticed on the property maps that there’s a folly on the eastern border of the land. It’s not visible from satellite photos—too many trees—but…”
Fionn narrowed his gaze, obviously considering the same questions chasing themselves in her head. “How hard would it be to get to, especially with a trunk of gold?”
She shrugged, wiping her mouth on a napkin. “Now? Very hard, if the satellite photos tell me anything. The whole place has been left to grow wild. But ten, eleven years