But I digress. The final and deciding factor in my renewed resolution to find the treasure was a series of events that took place as Alex and I left Second Chance after our unpleasant session with the inhabitants, to head back to the village. It was late afternoon as I negotiated the rental car down the long driveway toward the main road. It had begun to rain quite hard, and Michael was nowhere to be seen, having presumably gone indoors for shelter. The windshield wipers were waving hypnotically in front of me, and the defroster was working overtime to clear the fog from the windshield. As I rounded a turn a hooded figure stepped out from dense brush at the side of the road and into the path of the car. I slammed on the brakes but, forgetting I was driving a standard shift, didn't depress the clutch in my hurry. The car jerked along then stalled a few feet from the figure.
I rolled down the window and peered out at the face under the hood. It was Deirdre, and she looked genuinely frightened, a trembling little bird on scrawny legs, her hair matted from the rain, despite the hood. "Stay away from Second Chance," she said breathlessly. "You have no idea what's going on here. This family is cursed!" Then she looked over her shoulder and quickly stepped back into the brush and disappeared.
Then I saw what might have startled her. Sean McHugh, son-in-law number one, was walking down the drive toward the house. He was, like his brother-in-law, fair, but a little softer looking, a little jowly perhaps, and less threatening in demeanor, though not, in this case, in stance. He was still in his tweeds and high boots, but he'd added a rain cape swirling behind him-the aforementioned country gentleman look- except that he wasn't looking particularly gentlemanly. He was carrying a gun, a rifle, slung over one shoulder. Even though it wasn't pointed at us, it was an unpleasant moment.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"We've had tea at the house," I replied.
"What are you doing snooping around on the road?"
"I'm not snooping," I replied haughtily. "The car stalled. A rabbit ran in front of us, and I had to stop suddenly." I was speaking, I suppose, metaphorically. There had been more than a little of the frightened rabbit in Deirdre.
"Get moving," McHugh said, looking as if he didn't believe me for a moment. Maybe there weren't any rabbits around here. Regardless, we did what we were told. I consider it a good rule not to argue with a man who holds a gun.I looked over at Alex. "All rather Gothic, wouldn't you say?"
"Gothic, yes, but part of it is true," he said. "To Deirdre's point, I have no idea what is going on here."
"I feel sorry for Vigs," I said. "I figure he's doomed. What do you think she'll do to him? He's too big to flush down the toilet."
"I don't even want to think," Alex murmured. "We should have brought him with us."
"Maybe we should have brought Deirdre, too," I replied. Alex smiled.
"We're going to have to do something about a road into Rose Cottage," I said, seriously. "We can't have Sean McHugh waving a rifle at you every time you try to get there."
"I'll think about it," Alex said. "I haven't decided what to do about the cottage just yet."
"But you know you love it," I said. "And we can't let those awful people intimidate you out of your inheritance!"
Alex just shrugged and took to looking at the scenery. I gathered this was a topic he didn't wish to pursue at the moment.
"Pull over," he said suddenly. "Can you back up? About a hundred yards?"
Surprised, I complied. "What is it?" I exclaimed.
Alex pointed down a little road off to the right. I looked but couldn't figure out what he was talking about. It was just another lane, as far as I could see.
"What?" I said to him, mystified.
"Look at the signs," he said. There were a number of signs hammered into a tree, one of them for a BB, another for a vegetable stand, others individual names. At the very bottom, however, was a crude hand-lettered wooden sign. The Breakers, it said. "Worth a try," I said.
We slowly made our way along the road, checking all the houses as we went. After about five minutes, the pavement ended, and we bounced our way around muddy potholes, then made a sharp left turn down an even worse road.
At the very end was a little house, a shack really, with smoke swirling from the chimney. Beyond it was the sea, huge breakers crashing against black cliffs, the spume rising high up before dissipating into a mist that blew across the little bay. The sign on the gatepost was almost illegible, but apparently we were at The Breakers.
I looked at Alex. We got out of the car and made our way to the door, a little black and white dog yip-ping at our heels.
I knocked, then knocked again. I heard steps inside and the latch being opened, then a familiar face peered out at us.
"Malachy!" I exclaimed.
"Lara!" he replied. "Kev," he shouted. "Put on some tea. It's that nice young girl we talked to at the pier. Lara. And her friend," he added, looking myopically in Alex's direction. I introduced the two of them. "Did you bring some whiskey, by any chance," he whispered.
"Sorry again," I replied. "I didn't know I was coming here." I hoped I didn't wear out my welcome with these two before I got them whiskey.
"Where's Denny?" I asked to change the subject.
"Denny lives with his sister and her family in town," Malachy said. " 'Tis just Kev and me lives here."
Malachy cleared a space on the sofa, sweeping aside papers, and taking unwashed plates to the sink. "Weweren't expecting company," he said. "Please excuse the mess."
"It's fine," I replied, taking a seat and accepting a mug of hot tea.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" Kev asked loudly.
"Shush, don't be rude," Malachy said, wagging his finger at his brother.
"I just want to know," Kev replied peevishly.
"That's a fair question, Kevin. Actually, we didn't know you lived here. We were just touring around. You have a fabulous view," I said, trying to figure out how to broach the subject I wanted.
"The best," Kevin agreed.
"Grand, isn't it?" Malachy added.
"But now that we're here," I went on, "I have a question for you. Did Eamon Byrne leave anything with you to give to his family or a friend?"
"What did she say?" Kevin said, cupping his hand around his ear.
"She's asking if Eamon Byrne left anything here," Malachy shouted.
"How would she know that?" Kevin asked. Both men turned to look at me.
"Byrne gave everyone who got something from his Will, well, almost everyone, anyway, a riddle to solve. Alex here was one of the people who was included in this riddle, and when we saw your sign for The Breakers, we thought maybe it was a clue." I decided honesty was the best policy, as unlikely as the story might have sounded.
"What did she say?" Kevin said again.
"She said Alex here is one of the people looking for Eamon Byrne's clues," Malachy repeated.
"Good," Kevin said. "I like her better than some of the rest of them. But she has to say the magic words, doesn't she? Does she know the magic words?"
Both men turned to look at me again. "The furious wave," I replied.
"She got it!" Malachy exclaimed. "Get the clue, Kevin. It's hers."
"Where'd we put it?" Kevin said, looking perplexed. My heart sank. For a few minutes the two men shuffled about, pulling open drawers, looking under cushions. I was in despair.