“No need to follow closely,” Andy said, as he started the SUV. “I know where they’re headed.”
On the way over, Andy was happy to fill them in. The woman was the last guest on Veronica’s list: Elaine Burke. She’d been waylaid at her home in Kinsale. Andy had just picked her up at the bus station.
“She’s not a suspect then,” Tara said.
“Unless she’s lying,” Andy replied. “She was definitely at the bus station in Galway. But I didn’t actually see her get off a bus.”
Galway was far enough away that if the woman was trying to cover her tracks she was extremely diabolical. Then again, the flyer and the book hinted of a killer that was exactly that. “Any reason to suspect she’s lying?” Andy had the unique position of getting to know all of the guests. Taxi drivers heard and saw everything. It had to be the same for chauffeurs. People often forgot the driver was there, let their guards down. He was probably a wealth of information.
“No. Just stating a fact.”
“Veronica mentioned that she once stole the love of Elaine’s life. Was she talking about Terrance Hughes?”
Andy’s eyes flicked to hers through the rearview mirror, then to Danny, who was looking out the window, pretending not to listen. “I’ve only heard rumors.”
“Such as?”
“Elaine used to be in love with Terrance Hughes, alright. They were engaged when Veronica swooped in.”
“Ouch.”
“I’d say,” Andy said. “It’s especially salacious when you factor in Cassidy Hughes.”
“Cassidy?” Danny piped up. “She seems lovely.”
Tara imagined her elbow driving into his side.
“Easy on the eyes, alright,” Andy said. “She also accused Veronica of murdering her uncle.”
“What?” Tara and Danny said at the same time.
“I didn’t work for Veronica then,” Andy said. “I heard it from Bartley.”
Bartley. Tara definitely needed to speak with him. “Why did she think Veronica killed him?”
“Forgive me, I’m gossiping without all the facts. I don’t know if there was any particular reason, other than a rich man dies and the new wife inherits everything. Veronica in turn accused Cassidy of being a pill-popper. I’m guessing there’s always been animosity between the two.”
“What was the official cause of Terrance’s death?”
Andy met her gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, I don’t know that either.”
“No worries. Just curious.” She was definitely going to find out. Tara thought back to Veronica’s short note after Elaine’s name. Perspective. Makes one crazy. Was she calling Elaine crazy? Did Elaine believe Cassidy’s accusation? Who wouldn’t go a little nuts if a best friend stole the love of her life? Not to mention if Veronica ended up murdering him. Tara had to be careful not to go down the rabbit hole of rumors. If Terrance Hughes had died under suspicious circumstances, surely there had been a thorough investigation. Especially given his wealth and stature. Cassidy Hughes was becoming more interesting by the minute. Tara’s mental list of people to follow up on was growing.
They entered the downtown area of Clifden dotted with shops, and restaurants, and hotels, and pubs, all built up and down hills. With the mountains, and a church steeple rising in the background, it was a striking sight. Common of other Irish towns, the façades of the restaurants and shops were painted in cheerful blues, yellows, and pinks, a battle against the gray skies, and the colors were winning. Andy pulled over and pointed to the end of the street where a yellow taxi was just pulling away. “I believe they went into the pub at dat corner. They have a great trad session this evening, and Eddie is a fan.” Andy definitely knew a lot about their suspects. He was smart and observant. If Tara were a guard, she’d be employing him as a spy.
Spy. The word stuck in her throat. Had Veronica asked Andy to spy on Iona? Had he discovered that Iona was faking her injury and did he report that to Veronica before she died? Tara would have to find a way of asking him, without offending him. She couldn’t afford to alienate him or set off his radar.
“Thank you,” Tara said.
“How did you know?” Danny asked.
“Pardon?” Andy seemed startled.
Ahead, Eddie and Elaine could be seen standing in front of a popular pub. “That they’d be coming here?”
“I brought him here last night,” Andy said.
Tara froze halfway out the door of the vehicle when she registered what he just said. “I thought he just arrived?”
Andy lowered his head. “Never mind. I said nothing.”
Eddie hadn’t just arrived. He’d been here. Andy didn’t want to tattle. Was he a fan like Danny? Tara tried to give Andy ten euro, but he refused to take it. “I’m still on the payroll,” he said, handing her a calling card. “Call or text if you want a ride back to the castle.” He nodded at Danny. “And I’ll get your car filled with petrol in the meantime.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. I’m offering.”
“You have to let me pay you.”
“Sort me out later.”
Tara was just about to follow up on the bombshell that Eddie Oh had arrived earlier than he claimed when Andy saluted and drove away. Tara didn’t have a choice. She was going to have to follow up on this, and if Andy wouldn’t answer her questions, she would have to take it to Sergeant Gable. These guests couldn’t afford to lie, especially about alibis, when the stakes were so high.
A sense of uneasiness washed over Tara as his SUV faded into the distance. “How did he know I needed petrol?” Danny asked.
“He’s always listening,” Tara said. “Which makes him a valuable asset.”
“Or puts him squarely in danger,” Danny mused.
Tara hadn’t thought of that. He was young, and strong. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t vulnerable. She hoped he had enough sense to watch his back.
* * *
The pub was small, and cozy, and packed. Shiny dark wood covered every surface: the bar, the walls, the tables, the built-in benches. Candles adorned the tabletops, their flames dancing. Tara was surprised to see candles without glass covers, and resisted the urge to yell Fire hazard! and blow them all out. The Irish didn’t seem worried. Maybe there was something wrong with her that made it impossible for her to loosen up and relax. Maybe she was a good interior designer because it gave her always-worrying mind something to focus on. Colors, and textures, and patterns. She would never decorate with candles without a protective glass cover. Especially in a public place like this where everyone was crammed into a tiny room, sleeves hanging innocently, squeezing past people to get a seat.
“What’s your deal?” Danny whispered in her ear. It made her shiver. “Do you want to be left alone with a candle?”
Tara elbowed Danny in the side. He laughed. The trad players were bunched up in the back booth, instruments out and warming up. Danny grabbed Tara’s hand and pulled her to the bench along the wall, where there didn’t appear to be any seats. But one grin from Danny O’Donnell and people parted on both sides, allowing them to sardine in. The feel of his body pressed tightly against hers hit her like a drug. “Going for a pint,” Danny said. “What’s your pleasure?”
You. Don’t move. “Just a Coke.”
“Did you give up the drink?” Danny sounded slightly horrified.
“Out of respect for Veronica,” Tara said. “It’s temporary.”
He gazed at her for a while, then nodded. Danny went up to the bar and returned with a pint and a Coke. Tara allowed herself a moment to imagine they were on a date. The candlelight didn’t help, nor did the fact that he was sitting so close. She scanned the crowd as they sipped.
“I feel like we’re voyeurs,” Tara said. She’d yet to spot Eddie and Elaine. Had they slipped into another pub?
“We have drinks in front of us,” Danny said, lifting his. “That makes us patrons.”
That’s when Tara spotted them. E
ddie and Elaine were on the opposite side of the pub in a two-seater. They were sitting close to a wall splashed with their shadows. Eddie leaned in and spoke to her, and Elaine’s gaze never left his face. His voice rose above the din; he was telling a story. Tara couldn’t take her eyes off them. “They look cozy.”
Danny nodded. “Indeed.”
“I mean, I know there’s quite an age difference.”
“He was married to Veronica. I think maybe older women are his type.” Danny’s grin said that he approved. “Do you think they’re knocking boots?”
Tara stared at the odd couple as she contemplated his question. Elaine Burke was still a very beautiful woman. Her figure was trim, and the blond hair that flowed in the picture Veronica had supplied of the two of them in their glamour days was colored to keep the same vibrancy, and cut in sleek layers. She was way too dressed up for this pub, a designer dress that was probably made in Italy. Like Veronica, Elaine Burke held a presence that seemed to openly defy people to claim she was anything other than still viable. And Eddie Oh was definitely glued to her. “Doesn’t it look . . . possible?”
Danny cocked his head. “She’s a Helen Mirren type. Definitely still doable.”
“Honestly!” Tara smacked his thigh. Danny laughed.
“No disrespect, Miss America, but when a woman is hot, she’s hot, no matter her age.”
“Too bad Dr. Seuss is gone, sounds like a title for his next book.”
“Huh?”
“When A Woman Is Hot She Is Hot No Matter Her Age.” He just stared at her. “I will date if she’s December and I am May, I will date her anyway.” This time Tara laughed and Danny did not.
“First you’re jealous of Cassidy, now this stunning older woman?”
“I’m not jealous. Go for it, cowboy. And while you’re at it, ask if she murdered her best friend.”
“I think they’re knocking boots. Should we put money on it?”
“For real?” Danny, she’d learned, liked to bet. On anything. And no matter what the bet, she was usually on the losing end of it.
“For real, Miss America.”
Tara bit her lip. She hated losing. And she wasn’t confident the pair of them were dating, just flirting. “No. I do not want to.”
“Afraid I’ll win?”
“Do you have to turn everything into a contest?”
“You do not like to lose, do you?”
“I don’t want to turn our investigation into a betting game.” She so did not like to lose. Who did?
“Our investigation, is it?”
“Why do you always pick the weirdest times to flirt with me?”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Can we get back to them?”
“Excuse me,” a deep male voice interrupted. Startled, Tara looked up to find Eddie and Elaine standing in front of them. The entire bench was watching. Tara was so stunned to find them there, that she couldn’t speak.
“How ya,” Danny said easily.
Eddie ignored Danny and jabbed his finger at Tara. “Are you Tara Meehan?”
“Yes,” she said, wondering if she should pretend not to know who he was.
“I told you,” Elaine said. “Thank goodness.”
“Please,” Eddie said, gesturing to their table across the room. “Join us.”
Chapter 13
It felt so odd following Eddie and Elaine to their table. Eddie grabbed a couple of stray chairs and crammed them into their two-seater. Given the crowd, Tara wondered if he was stealing previously occupied seats. So much for a successful stakeout; the targets had not only made them, they were now inviting them over, gaining the upper hand. Danny was right. She was out of her element. Danny didn’t seem fazed at all by the reversal. His eyes were dancing, probably from keeping his fanboy all bottled in. Eddie leaned in. He reeked of whiskey. “Is it true? Veronica came to see you at your shop?”
“Renewals,” Elaine said. For a woman who had just arrived she was certainly in the know.
“I didn’t get your name,” Tara said. She was debating whether or not to admit that she knew very well who she was, and decided to feign innocence.
“I’m Elaine Burke. I was Veronica’s best friend.”
“We know your name,” Danny said, directing the statement to Eddie, and sticking his hand out. “I’m a big fan.”
Eddie’s head cocked back, and he gave Danny about two seconds before turning to Tara. “Tell us everything about the day Veronica came into your shop.” Danny’s hand flopped back by his side, and Tara felt a twinge of pity for him. Seconds after meeting his idol and he was already let down.
“I’ve told the cops everything I know,” Tara found herself saying like a suspect in a movie.
Eddie placed his hand on his chest. “Have you ever been married?”
She tensed, not wanting this man she’d barely met to inquire into her personal life. One she was trying to heal from, but the wounds were vulnerable and needed some boundaries. Danny shifted beside her; he knew all about her previous marriage to Gabriel, how it dissolved after Thomas died. Three years was all she had with Thomas. Three years. She guarded those memories like a mother bear. Her son wasn’t open for discussion unless she initiated it, not with this man, not with anyone.
“What are you trying to ask her?” Danny said. He’d switched to protection mode and Tara was grateful for it. She felt his hand wrap around hers and squeeze. She bit back tears. He had her back when it counted the most.
“I wasn’t trying to pry,” Eddie said, finally reading the room, and sitting back in his chair. “It’s just. When you’re divorced, people assume you aren’t grieving. But I am. I couldn’t have loved Veronica more. And the guards aren’t talking. I need to know what she said, is there anything that might have . . .”
“Given me a clue as to who did this?” Tara said.
Eddie swallowed and nodded. Tara saw her own grief reflected in his face. He had loved her. And he seemed bent on getting answers. Unless he’s lying . . .
“I’m sorry. I swear to you there’s nothing she said that will help us find her killer. But I’d be happy to tell you about her visit to my shop. I get why you want to know.”
“Tank you.”
She filled them in on her first meeting with the heiress, making a point to emphasize Veronica’s devotion to Eddie’s art. He listened intently, nodding, shaking his head when he learned she’d given Tara his portfolio. He laughed when she recounted Bartley’s story of Eddie swiping the cap from Veronica’s driver.
“Good old Bixby,” Eddie said. “He was such an old fuss I couldn’t help meself.” He turned to Elaine. “Whatever happened to him?”
Her face looked pinched. “He passed away.”
“He did? When?”
“I think we’re getting off topic,” Elaine said softly. “He was in his early sixties. Life took him way too young.”
Eddie whistled and rubbed his face. “He was a good old sport.” He shrugged and turned back to Tara. “Veronica still believed in me. Even though I haven’t created in a long time.”
“I hope that changes soon,” Danny said.
“Did she mention me?” Elaine Burke asked, her voice filled with desperation.
“Your name was on her amends list,” Tara said. “But I never got the chance to speak with her about it.”
“I see.” Elaine looked down at the table.
“But in her notes she mentioned you were her best friend, and she used your nickname. Lainey.” Tara felt a squeeze of pity for Elaine; her sadness was palpable.
When Elaine looked up, for a second Tara saw the young girl from the picture. “I was her best friend once. That was a long time ago.” Pain swam in her eyes. Was she thinking of Terrance, the love of her life? Or did she fixate on Veronica’s betrayal?
“I hope it’s some comfort she intended to make amends,” Tara said. “And I believed she was sincere.”
Elaine grasped her drink. “In her drinking days she was
either in love with you or out to get you. Usually both. Male, female, related, stranger. It didn’t matter. I suppose recovery has been good for her. Was good for her,” she corrected. “Her sponsor must be a remarkable woman.” She looked to Eddie as if wanting him to pitch in.
“Of course,” Eddie said, waving it away. “There was no need for apologies. That woman doesn’t remember half the things she did.”
That woman. So much for all the love he claimed to feel for his ex-wife. “Speaking of her sponsor,” Tara said. “Did either of you know Nancy Halligan?”
“Is that her name?” Elaine said. “I’ve yet to meet her.”
“None of us knew the ‘new’ Veronica,” Eddie said. “But I’m guessing the old one was a lot more fun.” He finished the rest of his pint in one long swallow as if drinking for the both of them.
“Then you haven’t heard the news,” Tara said, treading lightly. Their faces turned toward her expectantly. “Nancy Halligan passed away one week before Veronica. A heart attack.”
Elaine gasped. “My word. How awful.”
Eddie stared off into the distance. “One week before Veronica?”
“Yes,” Tara said. I found her. And I think Veronica’s killer led me to her. Was it one of the two sitting before her? She looked at Elaine. “Veronica must have driven you crazy.”
“Me?” Elaine said. “Why do you tink dat?”
Perspective. Makes one crazy. “Oh, just in general. It must have been difficult.”
“It’s her niece and her first husband she drove crazy. She drove her husband to the grave and don’t tell me that pill habit of Cassie’s has nothing to do with Roni, because it certainly does.”
Drove her husband to the grave. The best friend had claws. And Elaine had certainly not forgotten. Did that mean she truly suspected Veronica of killing Terrance Hughes, or was it just an expression?
“Is her niece the pretty young blonde?” Danny asked. He knew the answer, but Tara was grateful he was willing to help keep them talking as well.
“Yes,” Elaine said, her lips pursed. “Cassidy Hughes is a little addict and a manipulator.”
“And easy on the eyes,” Eddie added with a conspiratorial wink to Danny.
Murder in Connemara Page 12
