Free Selkie's Song (Fado Trilogy) by Clare Austin Page A

of weeks, but I would like to get the business portion of my trip out of the way as soon as possible.” Then he would enjoy what the scenery in general, and Muireann O’Malley in particular, had to offer.
    Feeney opened a folder and pulled out several documents. “This is a legal description of the land in question. As you can see, it is of no particular value as it stands.” He then pointed to a list of numbers with a large euro amount at the bottom. “This is the amount owed in back taxes.” Feeney’s finger trailed down the page.
    Ty swallowed hard and reread the bottom line. “My mother’s uncle must have forgotten he owned the place.” According to the other documents, only two hectares and a derelict building remained. Even at the current tax assessment, the land was virtually unimproved, no paved road led to it, and no planning permission allowed for sewer or other necessities. “My interest is only in selling this property. I’ve no need for it and it holds no sentimental value to me.” Indeed, Ty only vaguely remembered his benefactor and, right now, he needed cash and not a backbreaking tax burden. If Albert O’Malley had died intestate, Tynan could ignore this, but to his dismay, the man had gone ahead and named Máire Ni Moillin in his will.
    Denying responsibility at this point, when Tynan needed his financial integrity unchallenged, lacked wisdom.
    “Yes, the taxes have mounted up. This would be simple if it was only a tax issue.” Feeney handed a stack of papers across the desk. “Your uncle had taken out a loan with the property as collateral. That two hectares is devalued in today’s economy, but when this loan was issued, property values were booming. You might say, when he passed, he was ‘upside down’ in his mortgage.”
    “The real estate market is tough everywhere,” Ty offered, not only thinking of this but O’Fallon’s.
    Feeney nodded his agreement. “That’s why the Ballinacurragh Fisherman’s Bank and Loan feels it would be in the best interest of all involved if we forgive the remainder of the loan and retain title. Of course, the taxes would then become our responsibility.” Feeney picked up his pen and wrote an amount on the bottom of the page. “This is the current value, the back taxes owed, and the principle and interest due on the loan. I’m sure you’ll agree my offer is generous.”
    Tynan felt a stab of disappointment. Feeney was telling him he would gain nothing but a huge debt by refusing the deal offered. His first impulse was to sign this mess over to the bank and forget he ever had an uncle O’Malley.
    However, Cade had warned Tynan not to be hasty. Land often had hidden value. He should at least see it and read through the paperwork. He would be wise to fax the documents to Cade and have his attorney take a look. There had to be a reason Feeney was so eager to get the deal sealed.
    “If you would have Ms. Walshe make copies of all this, I’ll send it off to my attorney,” he insisted.
    Feeney’s already pink cheeks seemed to flush a bit deeper. “Certainly, certainly,” he stammered and shuffled the papers meaninglessly. “I’ll get those to you…uh…soon.”
    “No rush,” Tynan said. He had originally planned to stay in Ballinacurragh only a few days, head up to Galway, visit some old haunts, catch up with mates from school, and then get back to Boston before Flannery’s due date. Now, he wouldn’t mind hanging around this area. He owed it to himself to catch up on lost years.
    Could he unravel the details of Muireann O’Malley, where she had been, who she had become? Their relationship needed sorting out.
    Relationship? Ty wanted to box his own ears. They had no relationship.
    An impatient stir in Ty’s loins effectively muddled the chatter over money. “What’s the next move?”
    “Ah, now, if you’re in a rush, I can have the paperwork drawn up later today,” Feeney offered with a smile that would have looked at home on a cat