Colin MacGregor

Kate stepped out of the rental car and streched. The drive from Dublin to Galway had taken nearly four hours, and although the scenery was beautiful, she knew she wasn't here simply to enjoy herself.

Having had a bothersome companion that could talk only to her for the transatlantic flight hadn't helped.

"That was incredible." Marcus was beaming as he bounded out through the side of the Jaguar. "You always hear about the '40 shades of green', but I always thought that was just a metaphor. I mean, honestly, even in January..."

"Marcus, please." Kate put a hand to her head and reached into her purse for an aspirin. "I just want to check into the hotel and get some sleep, it's been a very long trip."

Looking back at her with a grin, Marcus nodded. "Of course, of course. I remember the demands of having a body. I may grouse about being dead, but I think it's preferable to the styrofoam they served you on the plane, all the while claiming it was chicken."

"Don't remind me," Kate muttered. "You're going to scout out and see if you can find Mr. MacGregor this evening? I don't think his grandfather would remember me - we only saw each other the once, at the school, and we weren't introduced - but it would still probably be best if we weren't to run into each other again."

Marcus nodded. "Yep, I'll head out to the cemetary first, just in case the kid's hanging out around the gravesite, then check out the grandfather's place. I'm betting he's at the house, though."

With a yawn, Kate nodded. "Allright, just try and stay out of sight until morning. I'd like to approach him together."

A wide grin crossed the spirit's face. "Aren't I always the soul of discretion?"

"Relax, Kate. I can be professional." He smiled reassuringly at her. "When I really try."

January 17, 2003

Kate slipped her small, tan purse over her shoulder and straightened the sleeves of her pinstriped jacket. Checking her appearance one last time in the mirror, she adjusted her lapels and headed for the door.

The smell of salt from the bay hit her as she opened the door onto the covered walkway, and she took a moment to savor the difference between the clean, briny air here and the stagnant pollution of Atlanta before walking towards the restaurant next door. The tinge of rain was also carried on the wind, and Kae noticed the dark grey clouds rapidly moving in, lengthening the morning shadows.

There had been no sign of Marcus this morning, but that was probably a good sign. The spirit, for all of his impetuousness, wasn't likely to turn up in her bedroom while she was asleep unless it was an actual emergency.

I just hope he got a bead on where MacGregor is. As beautiful as this place is, there's quite a bit I need to catch up on back...

Her thoughts trailed off as she walked into the restaurant and saw Marcus and Colin talking amiably in a booth with yet another spirit, a young, slender faced lady dressed in a turn of the century style sundress. She had honey-blonde hair that cascaded over her shoulders in soft curls and a light dusting of freckles. Kate was intrigued by the woman's appearance in spite of her irritation at Marcus' breach of protocols.

Could they have found a spirit older than three years? It seemed highly unlikely, but if so, it would represent a huge discovery.

"Morning, Kate." Marcus smile beatifically at her. "This is Moira Flanagan. You already know Colin, of course."

Kate smiled thinly as she slid into the booth next to her associate and the waitress approached with a teacup and kettle.

Colin nodded to her and smiled. "Tis good tae see ye again, Ms. Dennison. I know ye cannae speak tae us and still keep up appearances," here the three spirits exchanged a set of grins, "but I wanted tae thank ye again for yuir help."

The agent nodded slowly in Colin's direction, as much considering the menu as acknowledging his comments.

"Just the tea, I think," Kate told the waitress. "I'm afraid I don't have time for much breakfast this morning."

Marcus winced at the acidity in her tone. "Now Kate, before you get too angry, I think you should hear me out."

"I've precious little choice, now," Kate murmured under her breath. She lifted the tea and took a deep breath of the of the steam, hoping the orange blossom scent would help calm her down.

Colin looked puzzled. "Wha's the ma'er, Marcus? I though' ye said she'd be willin' tae help?"

Moira's face fell as well. "Och, please, ma'am." The woman's voice was soft, but controlled, and she spoke in an almost musical tone that belied some voice training. "Tis nay much tha' I would ask o' ye..."

The other agent looked down at the table abashadly. "I don't think she's mad at you two, but, ah, I wasn't supposed to make contact with you yet, Colin. The plan was to find out where you were and then both approach you." Marcus grinned a bit. "She places a great deal of stock in closely following the regs, you'll find.

"Moira, I'm sure she'll be able to help you out," he continued, somewhat subdued. "I just need to explain a few things."

Still glowering at her erstwhile partner, Kate quickly finished her tea and stood. Leaving some cash on the table, she strode back out the front door and headed in the direction of her room, followed by the three spirits. Colin and Moira hung back, talking quietly, while Marcus hurried to catch up.

"I'm sorry Kate, I literally just stumbled across the two of them, and it seemed better to explain myself once they'd seen me than to turn and run off."

Kate gave a frustrated sigh. "Marcus, I'm not your supervisor, and I can't tell you what to do, but it seems like every time we work together you find some way to undermine me." She stepped up her pace as the first few drops of rain began to splatter on the ground alongside the walkway, her low heels clicking on the wooden planking.

The spirit turned his charming grin on her as he matched her stride. "Just trying to keep you on your toes." Noting the darkening look on her face, he plowed on. "But honestly, I didn't expect to find him down by the harbor. I just heard this singing, and I knew it was spook-related."

The woman unlocked the door of her room and the two sat down as Colin and Moira cautiously looked in. "Is i' all righ' if we join ye, or should we wai' outside?" Colin's voice held a trace of anxiety, as though some prize was about to be snatched away from him.

"No, come in, both of you. Please. I apologize for my earlier irritation, and I assure you that none was directed at either of you."

Marcus grimaced, but continued to recount the previous night's events. "Anyhow, Kate, I found Moira and Colin standing on one of the piers. The young lass here was singing a beautiful lullaby, echoing off the bay, and I was caught up in my admiration. I walked up to them before I recognized young Mr. MacGregor here, and by that point it was a bit too late to stay out of sight."

"The long and the short of it is, we talked for a good long while, though not about the subject we had previously planned to discuss. They basically told me Moira's story, and I've been thinking about what we might be able to do to help her."

"Marcus, what have you gotten me into now?" Kate asked in an exasperated tone as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Nothing too bad," the spirit quickly tried to re-assure her. "See, Moira here was killed backstage on the night of her debut at the local theatre. We think if she gets a chance to perform her piece for an audience - a living audience, mind you - that it will help her move on. All you'd have to do is listen, Kate. Please."

"Can we do it here?" Kate peered quizzically at the singer. "Or do we need to go to the theatre?"

"I'm after thinkin' tha' here will be fine." The woman stood and slowly walked to the middle of the room. Clasping her hands before her, and bowing her head, she began to sing quietly.

Sleep O babe, for the red bee hums the silent twilight's fall,
Aoibheall from the grey rock comes, to wrap the world in thrall.
A leanbhan O, my child, my joy, my love my heart's desire,
The crickets sing you lullaby, beside the dying fire.

Dusk is drawn and the Green Man's thorn is wreathed in rings of fog,
Siabhra sails his boat till morn, upon the Starry Bog.
A leanbhan O, the paly moon hath brimmed her cusp in dew,
And weeps to hear the sad sleep-tune, I sing O love to you.

Faintly sweet doth the chapel bell, ring o'er the valley dim,
Tearmann's peasant voices swell, in fragrant evening hymn.
A leanbhan O, the low bell rings, my little lamb to rest,
And angel- dreams till morning sings, its music in your breast.

Midway through the song, Kate closed her eyes and let the melody flow through her. Moira had a truly beautiful voice, the harmonics of her singing resonating deep within. Kate slowly became aware, even through her closed eyelids, of a soft yellow light suffusing the room, as though the sun had broken through the persistent cloud cover of the day, though the sound of rain against the window continued unabated.

As the last words of Moira's song faded into stillness, a faint wisp of honeysuckle blossom drifted across Kate's senses, and she opened her eyes. Marcus and Colin were sitting quietly, looking fondly at the place where Moira had stood, but where no sign now remained.

Kate looked around her and breathed in deeply, feeling revitalized even as the flowery scent faded and the salty, rain soaked smell to the air returned.

Though none wanted to break the spell, it was Colin who spoke first. "Thank ye, lass. There's been nay others we could find who could help her." The young man was smiling gratefully at her as he stood. "Once again, I owe ye a debt for coming to me aid."

Kate smiled back at him, the last of her anger evaporating at last. "Of course. I feel we have an obligation to assist those in such a condition where we find them. It is actually that obligation that actually brought us here to find you."

Blinking in surprise, Colin looked curiously at her. "Me? I though' ye had already helped me."

"Yes, to a certain extent, we have, but we thought that perhaps you might be interested in helping us help others. In short, Mr. MacGregor we've come to offer you a job."

Footnote: The song Moira sings is The Garton Mother's Lullaby, by Seosamh MacCathmhaoil.

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