Lighthouse Keeper's Holiday

By Erin O'Quinn

Dirk Black, an undercover cop, blows into town for a holiday. Um, except there is no town—only sea and rocks on the far north spit of land in the the Shetlands—and the massive storm that greets him guarantees an indoors holiday.
Being under the covers with his unique lover, Stephan Tavish, is just what Dirk’s been needing. But he soon finds that the storm has also brought a maelstrom of trouble for him and the entire Tavish family—Stephan, his father Peter, and his son Jamie have been swept into a tempest of crime and passion that threatens to leave only heartbreak in its path.
When Jamie disappears, Dirk is forced into seeing from a different perspective. From the secrets hidden in a boy’s school, to crimes committed in a stone-cold basement, even to a final horrendous crash—he learns that getting out alive is only part of the challenge.
Aye, pagan Dirk is forced to call on the “damned father, son and holy ghost” to set the world upright again on Fate’s storm-ravaged playing field.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin O'Quinn
• Release date: May 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9780463381571

Erin O'Quinn

Erin O’Quinn sprang from the high desert hills of Nevada, from a tiny town which no longer exists. A truant officer dragged her kicking and screaming to grade school, too late to attend kindergarten; and since that time her best education has come from the ground she’s walked and the people she's met.Erin has her own publishing venue, New Dawn Press. Her works cover the genres of M/M and M/F romance and also historical fantasy for all ages.

Book preview

Copyright © 2022 Erin O ’ Quinn

New Dawn Press

ISBN: 9780463381571

First electronic edition published by New Dawn Press

Published in the United States of America with international distribution.

Cover Design by Erin O’Quinn (Bonita Franks)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author ’ s imagination or are used fictitiously; and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

WARNING: This writing contains explicit sexual descriptions and is intended for a mature audience over the age of 18.

Lighthouse Keeper’s Holiday

Sequel to

Wanted: Lighthouse Keeper

Erin O’Quinn

As I was walking all alone,

I heard twa corbies making a moan…

The one unto the t’other did say,

‘Where shall we gang and dine to-day?’’

(Two Ravens, traditional Scottish ballad)

Foreword

O’Quinn’s former novel Wanted: Lighthouse Keeper introduced the principal characters whom the reader meets again in this present work.

In the earlier work, Dirk Black , a former undercover detective, has left the Dundee Criminal Investigation Department after the death of his partner. In the extreme north of Scotland’s Shetland Mainland, he meets Stephan Tavish. The victim of a killer’s greed, Stephan is a wealthy businessman who’s confined to a wheelchair. He convinces Dirk to be his temporary keeper. That’s when the mystery and mystique begin for both of them…

Now for the current novel. After a year back on the cop squad, Dirk is again on forced leave. But this time around, it’s because he’s earned a holiday—and his Detective Inspector is determined he’ll take it.

When Dirk returns once more to the place he met Stephan, the circumstances have changed. Stephan is recuperating faster than even he could have imagined, with the dedicated help of his father Peter. His lover’s once-alienated son Jamie, who’s agreed to reunite with his family, is posing his own set of challenges.

When Dirk arrives on their doorstep he discovers that fate, the old crow from Celtic legend, has claimed her holiday too, on the storm-battered cliffs of an isolated spit of Scottish soil that once held a lighthouse. With no beacon left to guide them, how will any of them survive the rocks in the cold North Sea?

Blurb

Dirk Black, an undercover cop, blows into town for a holiday. Um, except there is no town—only sea and rocks on the far north spit of land in Scotland’s Shetlands—and the massive storm that greets him guarantees an indoors holiday.

Being under the covers with his unique lover, Stephan Tavish, is just what Dirk’s been needing. But he soon finds that the storm has also brought a maelstrom of trouble for him and the entire Tavish family—Stephan, his father Peter, and his son Jamie have been swept into a tempest of crime and passion that threatens to leave only heartbreak in its path.

When Jamie disappears, Dirk is forced into seeing from a different perspective. From the secrets hidden in a boy’s school, to crimes committed in a stone-cold basement, even to a final horrendous crash—he learns that getting out alive is only part of the challenge.

Aye, pagan Dirk is forced to call on the damned father, son and holy ghost to set the world upright again on Fate’s storm-ravaged playing field.

Chapter 1:

The Return

Somewhere along the A9 Highway from Dundee into Glasgow, driving through the relentless rain, in a mood of carefree bliss, Dirk Black remembered he needed his wings.

He was hell bound for the far northern land tip of the Shetland Mainland without a way to get there.

He cursed long and hard. Fucking bloody hell. Here we are, twenty-two years into the millennium, and bonny bloody Scotland still has no sodding way to get from here to there. Not by car, or train, or ferry, or mermaid. Only by air.

Almost three years ago, after aimless walking and hitch-hiking through Scotland, he’d taken the ferry from Aberdeen to Lerwick, a village in the Shetland Islands—a trip of twenty hours. That was back when he simply wanted to be anywhere but Dundee, away from the place he’d lost his partner, his job, his path in life. Back then, north seemed his only alternative to insanity.

This time around, almost everything was different. He’d been reinstated as an undercover detective in Dundee’s Criminal Investigation Department. Actually, he was about to be promoted to Senior Dick. He’d solved the mystery of his partner’s death, and even patched over his profound sense of loss. Most critical to his peace of mind and state of arousal, he’d met Stephan…

Computer nerd…business guru…steel willed angel in wings and a wheelchair—Stephan Tavish. The satin-skinned devil with a halo who’d taught him how to find heaven. Well, as close to heaven as a heathen would ever get.

Thinking about the man he was about to reunite with, his hands relaxed on the wheel and he began to think about his options. He could fly from Prestwick Airport in Glasgow to Sumburgh Airport near Lerwick, the tiny burg that was also Shetland’s main hub. From there, he could try to rent a car that would take him north on the only road to Stephan. Or he could hunker down somewhere in Glasgow and call his lover’s father Peter Tavish, who might be able to bring his vintage helicopter to the rescue. Or he could…or he could turn around and go to fucking Aberdeen and its snail of a ferry. Or maybe find a ferry somewhere else.

Dick is a fitting title for me. Fuck .

Dirk knew he was good at cursing himself. It saved him the hollow effort of blaming fate and random circumstance for his own sins.

He had just eight days…call it seven and a wee bit more…he had just a week to rekindle his astonishing friendship with a man he’d known only a few days—the one human being he’d been in agony of needing all the months since they parted. So it would be stupid to spend long hours getting to Fethaland, the promontory where his lover lived and worked. Besides, Stephan had called him back, after a year of silence. That meant he was ready.

The message had been a three-word text— Wanted: lighthouse keeper. That meant Dirk was free to interpret the invitation any way he wanted. And he wanted to believe that Stephan had built a new relationship with his son Jamie. After his devastating spinal cord injury, it meant his SCI therapy was going well. It bloody well meant that Stephan missed him, wanted him, and wouldnae want to wait days or hours to show him how much…

He pulled into the first rest stop he saw along the highway. Over a mug of hot sweet coffee, he extracted his cell phone from his back pocket and thumbed a contact number.

Half a ring tone later, Peter answered. Hello, lad. A cantie day to hear from ye.

"The sidh have ordered up one bloody hell of a rain. Are you alone, my friend?"

Aye. Reading, in my room.

And Stephan…how is he?

Good. And better soon, I think.

Smiling, Dirk ignored the implication. I’m on my way to Fethaland. Um, the wrong way.

A short laugh. How wrong?

In my Jetta, close to Glasgow.

Och then, are ye going to sprout wings?

Dirk laughed. If I want to surprise Stephan, I may need your help.

Peter’s tone was dry as usual. ’Tis raining on your wings, so ye need mine.

Ah, that would be correct. How can I get there, Peter, without upsetting your lives…all of you?

I think your decision was a swift one, Dirk.

I havenae changed.

So, lad, I need to meet ye. Are ye carrying a bag?

Small.

He chuckled again. One toothbrush is enough. How far are ye from Glasgow?

I’d say forty minutes, a wee bit less.

I’ll see ye in an hour. Your Jetta already has the GPS directions to my house . Ill let Jamie know to expect ye."

True to the Tavish tradition, he disconnected with no word of explanation or farewell.

Let Jamie know…

Of course. Jamie must be staying at his grandfather’s little house in Glasgow. The very place he last saw the lad, on the seat of his trousers, on the floor, suffering the whiplash of Detective Black’s tirade of frustration and ragged emotion.

Fuck. Bloody goddamn fuck.

For the millionth time, Dirk cursed his habit of acting before thinking. His mother’s old name for him, Dervish, fit him like his old pair of Levi’s.

He left without finishing his coffee. The sooner gone, the sooner arrived, in his studied opinion.

Half an hour later, he knocked on the door of the two-story house that belonged to Peter Tavish. The modest place in Clydebank was the home where Stephan had been raised, also the sanctum where Dirk had taken Jamie after rescuing him from the grip of some verra greedy and evil people.

Jamie Tavish opened the door and stepped back to let him duck in from the rain.

Dirk stood dripping on the doorsill, gazing at a young blond who looked remarkably like his father—tall, well formed, graceful…long lashes, high cheeks, penetrating blue eyes… He wondered for a fleeting moment how his soulless mother had felt about the close resemblance to his reviled father.

The past year had put some weight on his rangy frame, and some breadth to his chest and shoulders. The gray blazer and loose black tie added some gravitas to his youthful good looks. Unlike the frightened, fidgety lad he’d first met, Jamie seemed to possess a new kind of self-awareness. Call it caution, or maybe just concealed loathing for Detective Dirk Black.

He moved inside, just far enough and slow enough not to scare the lad again. G’day, Jamie. Thanks for letting me in. I willnae be here long.

He nodded and gestured to the living room.

Dirk removed his leather Jacket and hung it over his arm. Jamie didnae make a move to hang it in a closet or over a chair. Dirk, understanding his reluctance to greet him as a guest, kept his face pleasant and noncommittal. Bloody hell, I treated him like a juvenile delinquent in his grandfather’s own house. I shouldnae expect the lad to be civil.

Still holding the sodden jacket, he sat on the only sofa and gazed across the room at his host.

How…how have you been?

Jamie shrugged. Fine.

Still studying the martial arts?

Another shrug. Sometimes.

Well…school’s back in session. Are you taking classes?

You don’t know?

Ah, why should I?

Don’t you stay in touch with your…your friend, my father?

We’ve both had a lot of loose threads to tie up this past year. So no. Not yet.

Then I guess it’s not important. His phone rang. Looking at the face of the cell, he told Dirk, I need to take this call. He turned and left the room.

Dirk waited, listening for the sound