Celtic Clue: A Shayla Murphy Mystery by Stella Bixby

Author:Stella Bixby [Bixby, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ferry Tail Publishing LLC
Published: 2024-07-16T00:00:00+00:00

The music shop was a hole-in-the-wall joint from the outside and a magical dreamland on the inside. You wouldn’t think walking through the ragged old door, you’d step inside a musician’s dream. Shiny instruments decorated every wall, and plush stools sat in a circle in the middle of the shop, just waiting for someone to sit down and take their turn on an instrument.

“Can I help you?” A young man from the back of the store asked. He looked so familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. When his attention moved from Amelia to me, recognition dawned on his face. “Miss Murphy, how lovely to see you. Mrs. O’Malley called to tell me you’d be in to pick up the harp.”

“Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked.

“No, ma’am. I’d have remembered meeting you,” he said. “But I am from Ballywick originally. Me brother still lives there. Maybe you’ve heard of him—Finnegan Healy.”

“As in the private investigator?” I asked.

“That’s the one!” He beamed. “He’s me older brother. Sharp as a whip, that one.”

“He’s very good at what he does,” I said. “Do you see him a lot?”

“He was in town just the other night with his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” I asked. I didn’t know Finn had a girlfriend.

“Don’t be telling me yer about to marry an O’Malley, but yer hung up on Finn.”

“Oh, no!” I said. “I’m not. I just thought he had a thing for a friend of mine.”

Finn’s brother glanced at Amelia and Rylie.

“Neither of them,” I said. “Different friend.”

“What’s yer friend’s name? Maybe he’s talked about her.”

“Her name’s Telly,” I said, not bothering to mention that her name might actually be Jordan. Certainly, she wouldn’t introduce herself as Jordan, especially since Finn knew her as Telly.

“Ah, no,” the man said. “He’s not said anything about a Telly. And he’s smitten with Claudette. She’s a real knockout.”

“I’ve never heard him talk about anyone named Claudette,” I said.

“She’s tall, blonde, beautiful,” the man said. “Pretty opposite Finn’s type, if I’m being honest.”

“What’s Finn’s type?” I asked.

“He’s usually into the smart girls—not that Claudette’s not smart, she is—but I mean unusually smart. Like they have a good personality smart, yeh know?”

“So, not particularly pretty?” I laughed.

He shrugged. “Some of ‘em have been pretty. Some not so much. Finn’s never much cared about beauty. Until it came to Claudette, that is.”

“Well, I’m happy for him,” I said. “Now, about that harp?”

“Ah, yes. I’ll be right back.” He walked into the back.

When I turned around to look at my friends, they were both looking at their phones, apparently uninterested in hearing about Finn’s love life.

“Here it is. I just need you to sign here,” he said, passing me a slip of paper. “I fixed it to the exact specifications outlined in the O’Malley family handbook. The thing’s ancient.”

“The harp or the handbook?” I asked after reading through the fine print and signing my name.

“Both,” he laughed. “The harp more so, though. Do yeh want help getting it to the car?”

“That would be great,” I said.

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