by Kate Sweeney
“It’s a hurling stick.” She saw Annabel’s confounded look. “It’s a sport here in Ireland. Like your American lacrosse.”
“Only tougher.” Michael bent down and looked through the mess. “What was he looking for?”
“The book?” Deirdre asked as she looked around in amazement.
“He doesn’t know about the book.” Maureen kicked at the papers. She started to pick up books and put them back on the shelves. Annabel and Trevor helped by picking up the magazines.
“Then why would he do this?” Michael asked. “It doesn’t make sense for him to take the chance of being seen. Or his men.”
Maureen didn’t know. She replaced the cushions on the couch with Annabel’s help.
“Is there anything missing?” Annabel asked.
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“Whoever did this was very careful,” Trevor called out from the front door.
Maureen quickly was over to him. She examined the lock on the door. There was no sign of a forced entry. No scratch marks, no broken locks. “I don’t get this. Doyle has no key to my place. No one does but me.”
“Well, they weren’t after this,” Michael said.
Maureen turned to see him holding Kevin’s old blue garda shirt and cap from when he was a young police officer. She laughed. “Well, at least you have that. That’s good.” She walked over and took the cap, still smiling. “I remember when he…” She stopped and looked at the epaulette on the shoulder of the shirt.
“Maureen?” Michael asked.
Like moths to a flame, everyone stood around her. “What’s wrong?” Annabel asked. “What is that?”
“It’s the epaulette. It shows his shoulder number.”
“What’s a shoulder number?” Trevor asked.
“It identifies the officer,” Maureen said, looking at the shirt. “Michael, take it and the cap, and look around for his badge.”
“Why?”
“Just do it, Mick,” Maureen nearly yelled.
They all scrambled around the floor looking for it. “What are we looking for?” Trevor said, tossing papers over his shoulder. He looked at Annabel. “She scared me.”
Annabel laughed quietly. “Just look for a star or something…”
“It would be his black leather wallet. The badge would be on one side and his ID on the other,” Michael said.
“Is this it?” Deirdre held up the black wallet.
“Well done!” Trevor said.
Maureen took the wallet and opened it. There was the gold garda badge and the photo ID of Kevin, taken so many years ago. “That’s it. Okay, let’s get out of here.”
As they left, Maureen was able to lock the door.
“A conscientious burglar?” Annabel asked.
“Something like that, I suppose.” Maureen gently took her by the arm.
*******
As they drove away, Maureen looked back at Michael. “Ya didn’t see anyone standing about?”
“No, no one I recognized. Maureen, what’s happening? How could Tommy know about the book?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shifting gears. She sped up, eager to get out of the city limits and as far away from Doyle as she could.
When they pulled up to the road leading to Trevor’s, Maureen saw a car driving toward her. As it sped past her, she quickly looked in her rearview mirror.
“What?” Annabel looked over her shoulder, not knowing what she was looking for.
“Mick, did you notice that car?”
“No. He was driving too fast. I couldn’t even get a look at the tag numbers.”
“Okay,” Trevor said. “I’m officially scared.”
Deirdre chuckled. “You’re not alone.”
Maureen pulled onto the road and drove the short distance to the front of the house. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered and stopped the car.
The front door was wide open. “Mick, come with me. The rest of ya, stay here.”
“Maureen…” Annabel stopped when Maureen gave her a look of resolution.
“Stay here and lock the doors,” she said, her tone leaving no doubt how serious she was.
Michael followed her up the steps as she pushed the door open. “Now we know who belongs to the car we just saw.”
“What’s going on? How can they know?” Michael whispered.
Maureen walked into the foyer, then into the living room. It was the same as her flat. Books thrown from shelves, cushions tossed from the couch, chairs overturned.
Michael took an andiron. “I’ll check upstairs.”
He ran up the stairs. Maureen could hear doors opening and closing. She walked down the hall to the kitchen, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing touched.
She ran upstairs to meet Michael, who was just coming out of a room. “I can’t check all these rooms, Maureen. But none of them that I’ve checked have been disturbed.”
“Neither has the kitchen. Only the living room. And even that wasn’t as bad as my flat.”
“Let me go tell the others it’s all clear.”
Maureen went back down to the living room and looked around. There were books, still in the shelves, undisturbed. Even the coffee table still had glasses and magazines on it. She looked up when she heard everyone come in.
Trevor put his hand to his heart. “Oh, God.”
“Check it out, Trevor. Make sure nothing is missing. Let me know what, if anything.”
He numbly picked up books; Deirdre helped him. Annabel picked up a few books, as well.
“Maureen, what’s going on?” she asked.
“No other room has been disturbed. Not the kitchen, none of the bedrooms. And all the appliances are still intact. Look.” She motioned to the corner where the TV, the sound system, everything was still there. “So this was not a burglary, Annie.”
“The book?” she asked. “I thought no one knew about it but you and Michael.”
“Obviously not. There’s one frightening question, though,” Maureen said, picking up a book.
“What? You’re scaring me, sweetie.”
Maureen looked at Annabel. “How did they find us?”
*******
After Trevor took inventory, he could only guess nothing was missing. “I never knew of any valuables. Patrick never told me to be careful of anything. It’s a huge house, but…” He looked around and shrugged. “Nothing seems missing. Just thrown around.”
“As if they were looking for something, not trying to steal anything,” Maureen said. “It all happened so quickly. And doesn’t it look as if…I dunno. It looks as though they ran out of time.”
“You think it was the men you saw on the road?” Annabel asked. “Like they knew we were coming back.”
“Should we call the police?” Trevor asked.
“No,” Maureen said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll be right outside.” She said nothing further and headed out the back through the kitchen.
They all watched her exit, then looked at Annabel, who shrugged. “I have no clue what she’s doing. Michael?”
He shook his head. “Maybe she’s calling Kevin.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “Then why the secrecy?”
Annabel frowned deeply. It was a good question. And she had no answer.
Chapter 20
Annabel sat in the kitchen alone, looking at Maureen out on the patio. She was very animated while talking to whomever on the phone. Her arm flailed about; she ran her fingers through her hair and paced back and forth. Finally, she calmed down and nodded, almost to the point of exasperation as if whoever it was on the other end was repeating himself to make her understand. Maureen shut the phone and looked out into the darkness. The temperature must have dropped; Annabel saw a stream of icy breath as Maureen inhaled and exhaled deeply. Finally, she turned and walked back into the darkened kitchen.
“Everything all right?” Annabel asked.
Maureen jumped, unaware of her presence. “Good grief. Yes, everything is fine.”
“Did you call Kevin?”
“No.”
Annabel felt the ache in her heart as she watched Maureen’s figure in the moonlight.
“And to answer your tone, I did not call Tommy Doyle, either.”
“Then who was it?”
“Where are the others?” she asked softly.
“They’re still cleaning up the mess and Trevor is a basket case, so we’ll probably eat very well tonight.”
Maureen walked over to her. “Why are ya sittin’ in the dark, luv?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“I was watching you.”
“I see. I don’t blame ya. I told ya you’d be better off—”
“Don’t hand me that Irish bullshit. You’ve been hiding something all along. I know you have your reasons, and I trust you.”
“Do ya?”
“Yes, I do. But you’re not making it easy, I will tell you that.” She sat there, looking up at Maureen’s shadowy figure standing in front of her. “I love you, Maureen.” She saw Maureen’s shoulders slump slightly. “I can’t help it. I do.”
“I’m scared, Annie,” she whispered. “Scared for you, for Michael, all of you.”
Annabel heard the catch in her voice and jumped off the barstool, pulling Maureen into her arms. Maureen clung to her, burying her face in Annabel’s neck.
“Then what do we have to do? What’s going on? How did Doyle know we were here? It’s no coincidence that we go to your apartment and it’s ransacked, then here. How did he know? I can understand your apartment. He knows where you live.”
Maureen pulled back. She cupped Annabel’s cheeks and softly kissed her. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if I’m right. It’s been nagging me for a while, but my mind is so jumbled.”
“Are we safe here?”
“As safe here as anywhere now, I suppose.”
“Shouldn’t we call Kevin?”
“The call I made. It was to Conall. I told him what happened. I had to tell him where we were. We’ll be safe tonight. He’ll see to it.”
“And you trust him that much?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay,” Annabel said.
“Ya don’t sound so sure.”
“I’m not sure about anything.” Annabel gently ran her fingertips across Maureen’s lips. “Except you.”
Maureen took a quivering breath and kissed her fingertips. “That’s more than I deserve.”
“Probably.” Annabel laughed softly. “Now can we please resolve this?”
The kitchen light came on, and both jumped. Trevor stood in the doorway sporting an incredulous look. “With all this going on, you two are…” He stopped and cocked his head. “What exactly are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to make dinner. We have a few things to discuss,” Maureen said.
“So we’re staying?” Michael asked as he and Deirdre walked into the kitchen, as well.
“Are we safe here?” Deirdre asked.
“As I told Annie, as safe as anywhere now. I’ve made a call.” Maureen looked at Michael. “Conall is sending a couple guys he knows. They’ll be watching the house tonight.”
“What about tomorrow night and the next…?”
Maureen heard the quiet panic in Deirdre’s voice. “It’ll all be done tomorrow. And you can go back to your normal lives.” She avoided Annabel, who watched her. She rubbed her hands together. “Now, Trevor, in your panicked state, Annabel assures me we’ll eat like kings and queens tonight.”
Trevor laughed in spite of their situation. He grabbed his apron. “Deirdre, we need wine. I don’t think Patrick would mind if we invaded the wine cellar. Take someone with you and carry as many as you can from the first rack. Red please, as we’re having meat. White if you prefer, but I’m warning you that would be très gauche.” He opened the refrigerator. “Oh, and don’t touch the racks farther back, that’s the expensive stuff.”
For a moment, fear rippled through Maureen. “Mick, we didn’t check the cellar.”
He nodded, then left the kitchen only to come back moments later with the heavy andiron. “Dee, wait till I check.”
Trevor pointed to the door behind them. Michael cautiously opened it, and Maureen followed. They slowly walked down the creaky steps. In the darkness, it was impossible to see anything.
“It’s musty and damp,” Michael whispered.
“It’s a cellar, ya eejit,” Maureen said. “Now keep still.”
They stood at the bottom step, their eyes adjusting to the darkness. In the far corner was a huge wine rack; actually, there were several racks.
“Holy… This fella sure knows how to live,” Michael said. “There’s a light.” He reached over and flipped the switch.
The room was small, with no place to hide. A simple room, with a few boxes in one corner and some exercise machines in the other. They walked around each rack satisfied they were alone.
“Okay, we’re good.” Maureen looked at the wine in the rack. “It would be nice if I knew what I was looking at.”
Michael went around to the back rows. “Does it matter?”
Maureen watched him. “Trevor said not to take anything from there.”
“He won’t miss it,” he said, holding a bottle. He blew off the dust. “It’s either very good or very bad.”
“Put it back.” Maureen slipped a few bottles off the rack.
“Are you serious? It’s just a bottle of wine.”
“That’s not the point.” Maureen cocked her head. “It’s not ours in the first place. Put it back.”
He examined the bottle. “Hmm. 1962. I wonder if that was a good year. Must be if he’s saving it. I bet I’d get good money for this.” He looked around at the rows behind him.
“Put it back, Mick. And be careful with it.”
“This guy is probably so rich he hasn’t a clue what he has down here.”
“Trevor opened this house to us. To keep us safe. And you want to repay him by stealing his wine.”
“It’s not even his house or his wine. The other fella will never miss it.”
Maureen cocked her head. “After all you’ve been through, you still don’t get it.”
Michael’s head shot up. “Ya mean after all you’ve had to go through because of me.”
“That is not what I mean, and ya know it.”
“I’m not like you.” He looked around the room. “Look at this place. This guy is so rich…”
“And you resent him and everyone else with money.” Maureen shook her head. “You’re right, Mick. We’re not the same. But as long as I have other people involved—”
“Because of me.”
“Yes, damn it. All right? There ya have it. What do ya want? Ya can’t keep fuckin’ up and—”
“Have you keep bailin’ me out. I know.” Michael shook his head and put the bottle back. “You’re a Girl Scout, sis.”
Maureen smiled and handed the bottles of wine to him. “And you’re a dying pain in me arse, brother. But I do love ya. Now let’s get back before Dee and Annie come down here.”
Michael smiled, as well, and took the bottles. As they headed up, arms loaded, Michael turned around to her. “I love ya, too. I’m trying to be like you…”
“Good God, don’t do that. Just keep your nose clean and get a job. I’ll be forever happy with that.”
They met Dee and Annabel at the top of the stairs. “What did I tell ya?” Maureen whispered to Michael.
“We were just about to come down there. What took you so long?” Annabel asked, taking a few bottles from Maureen. “Good grief, is there any more wine left?”
“You’re a nag,” Maureen said and kissed her. “But a pretty one.”
Trevor had just shut the oven door.
“What’s cookin’, chef?” Michael looked over his shoulder.
“Lamb roast, which isn’t very big. I wasn’t expecting company. So we’ll load up on the starches. Roasted potatoes, carrots, and
turnips. You may peel them.” He winked at Michael, who groaned and took the bowl of vegetables.
They sat once again around the island countertop watching Michael mangle the carrots and potatoes.
Deirdre took the peeler out of his hand. “That carrot did nothing to deserve such a fate.”
Maureen uncorked a bottle of wine and poured the glasses. She handed one to Trevor. “Thanks,” he said, taking the glass.
Maureen reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Trevor. I’m so sorry about what happened to this house. You were kind enough to let me in and this…”
“Not at all, Maureen. You did nothing, and nothing was missing. So it’s all okay.”
Deirdre handed him the vegetables; he looked into the bowl before tossing them in with the roast. “That was quick.”
“I was a surgical nurse,” she said with a maniacal grin.
“Wonderful,” he said slowly. “I think.” He dried his hands on a towel. “Now get away from my stove. Shoo, shoo.”
“Yes, sir,” Maureen said with a bow.
“Hmm. That’s what I like to hear. You have a keeper here, Bellie,” he said over his shoulder.
“I hope so,” Annabel replied. “Now come back over here, keeper. You’ve got us all waiting.”
“Yes, what’s next?”
Maureen took a healthy drink from her wineglass before taking the book out of her pocket.
“That thing will become permanently attached if you’re not careful,” Annabel said.
“Until this is over and it’s in the right hands, it will.” She sat next to Annabel and leafed through the pages. Opened, she placed it on the counter. “Each of ya, take a look. Tell me what ya see.”
They all took turns examining the pages. Annabel went last. Maureen watched her as her gaze darted back and forth. She frowned in concentration, which Maureen thought adorable, then sighed deeply.
“I don’t know what they could be. Birthdates? Oh...” She grinned. “Maybe they’re Social Security numbers?”
“No…” they all said together.
“Okay,” Annabel said slowly.
Deirdre laughed. “We don’t have the same number system as you, though the idea is the same. We call them PPS numbers. There are letters at the end, so that’s not it.”
