Why not? He wanted to marry her someday, didn’t he?
Didn’t he?
She headed to Mike’s fruit-and-veg shop. Then she’d pop to the butcher. She would lose herself in prepping for supper. Chicken curry. James’s favorite. There, that was one problem solved. If only the other ones could be rectified so easily.
* * *
“What’s the matter with you?” The question came from James, sitting at the front of the table, eyes lasering into Siobhán.
“Is something wrong with the chicken curry?” From the way they were all diving into it, she’d dare him to utter a complaint.
“Nothing wrong with ours,” James said, eyeing her plate. “What’s wrong with yours?”
She looked down to find her plate hadn’t been touched. She’d taken a bite. Hadn’t she?
What diamond did he choose? Will I like it? Did he choose a modest one, or one that could light up a dark path in the dead of night?
“She’s thinking about the case,” Ciarán said. “That’s why she’s such a good garda.”
The Mysterious Case of Macdara Flannery and the Diamond. “You caught me.” Siobhán took a bite. It was good curry. She wished Macdara was there to taste it. She wouldn’t be expected to cook his supper every night, would she? What was wrong with his two hands? Not that she wouldn’t enjoy cooking for him . . . most of the time. Some of the time. Well, enough of the time. They could always go out for curried chips. They would need a bigger table if they were married. As it was, they had to squeeze Elise in. She supposed they could push more tables together. Tables were the least of her worries. What was their biggest worry? Why not get married? She was too modern of a woman to think they had to be married to be in a fulfilling relationship, but it was the next logical step. Wasn’t it?
She pushed her plate away. Outside, thunder cracked and rain began to lash at the windows. Siobhán was grateful to be inside with her brood. Tents flapped in the wind. In the end it was the weather and not a man’s death that brought an early end to the Arts and Music Festival. Lightning cracked and all heads swiveled to the window.
“Deadly,” Eoin said with a grin. The O’Sullivans always did love a good storm.
“Are you thinking about the case?” James asked.
“I could hardly discuss it if I was.”
“You’re joking me,” Gráinne said. “We could wire your jaw shut and you’d still be talking out of the side of your mouth.”
Siobhán ignored the comment. “Wouldn’t be professional.”
“It’s never stopped you before.” Gráinne stabbed at her food and smirked.
“Is there any chance it’s a straight-up suicide?” James asked. Goodness. They really believed she was brooding about the case. Maybe she should have been an actress. Or a poker player.
“It’s so difficult for loved ones to accept,” Elise said. “Yet, people take their own lives all the time.”
“This is not the conversation I wanted to have at the table,” Siobhán said, glancing at Ciarán and Ann. Imagine, if she forced her siblings to live with two guards. They couldn’t have all their dinner talks revolve around death and crime. Would Macdara want to talk about work at home? Where would he sit? If there was only one plate of leftovers, would James and Macdara fight over it?
Her scalp started to itch. There had to be another explanation. “Do you know of any men who like looking at diamond rings,” she asked casually. “For the craic?”
“For the craic?” James put down his fork. “No.”
Eoin scrunched up his face. “Are you jokin’ me?”
“Yes!” Ciarán said. “I’ll have a look.”
“Ciarán has a secret girlfriend,” Ann taunted.
“Ew,” Ciarán said. “I do not.”
“Ciarán’s getting married.”
“I am not.”
“Settle,” Siobhán said. Ann stuck her tongue out at Ciarán and then grinned. He scowled.
“Why on earth are you asking that?” Elise said. She leaned forward. “Is that what’s going on?”
“No,” Siobhán said as she felt her cheeks flare.
“Is what what’s going on?” Ann said. Her head swung from Elise to Siobhán.
“What are you two on about?” James said.
Siobhán threw a desperate look to Eoin. “How are the comic books selling?”
“Graphic novels,” Ciarán corrected.
“Fair to middling,” Eoin said. “Kilbane may not be ready for Sister Slayer. But they’ll catch on.”
“No, no, no,” Elise said, wagging her finger. “You’re changing the subject. Why did you ask about men looking at diamond rings?” She slid a look to James. He turned red on the spot and refused to look at Elise.
“I said no,” he said softly.
A pained look flashed across Elise’s face. It was obvious they had been discussing marriage. Is that what was sending James running for the hills? Elise looked like the type of woman who would run after him, even if she had to drag him back. Poor James.
“Sometimes things pop out of my mouth for no reason,” Siobhán said.
“Not true,” James said.
“It’s true for me,” Ciarán said. “Most of the time.”
Ann reached over and ruffled Ciarán’s red hair. Ciarán shoved her hand away. This was supposed to be family supper. And here she was fixated on Macdara and those diamonds. Those shiny, shiny diamonds.
“Are you and Macdara thinking about marriage?” Elise, again. She was like an unyielding searchlight.
“No,” Siobhán said. “I mean. Thinking about it. I am. I don’t know. It’s nothing.”
“If you’re not going to eat that,” James said, gesturing to her plate with his fork, “can I have it?”
“I’d better eat it or I’ll pass out,” Siobhán said. She hadn’t been eating much at all since she’d found Eamon Foley hanging from the ceiling like a sack.
“Oh, my God. Are you pregnant?” Elise yelled it out.
Forks clattered to their plates. “No,” Siobhán yelled back, feeling heat crawl up her neck. “No, no, no.”
“Touchy,” Elise said.
“How was your time away?” Siobhán said to James. Save me.
“I’m grand,” James said. He didn’t want to talk any more than Siobhán did. This family supper was not turning out the way she’d planned.
“I wish we were more musical,” Siobhán said. All her problems might go away if someone would just stand up and play the violin.
“You are acting peculiar,” Ann said.
“Why? Because it would be nice if one of you could play the violin, or squeezebox, or spoons, or guitar, or bodhran, or tin whistle right now? What’s so peculiar about that?”
A hand landed on her shoulder. Elise. “I’ll clear the plates and put on the kettle.” She beamed at the table. James slouched in his seat. “Who wants dessert?”
* * *
It wasn’t until they’d finished the lemon meringue pie made by Elise, and cleared the table, that Siobhán announced they needed to have a family meeting. James took the opportunity to escort Elise to the door. She could hear them arguing as her siblings sat watching her with guarded expressions. James returned and landed in his seat with a big sigh.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” Siobhán was genuinely curious.
“Calling this ’family meeting.’ ” He used air quotes. “I’ve tried breaking up with her. She pretends nothing happened.”
“That’s not why I called the family meeting.”
“Who’s in trouble?” Gráinne said, looking around. “Eoin?”
Eoin slumped in his chair. “What did I do?”
“Ciarán,” Siobhán said. He sat up, his cheeks already turning red, just like hers often did.
“T’anks be to God,” Gráinne said. “Can the rest of us go?”
“No.” She took her time. Let them feel the stress. “Imagine how shocked I was to hear that Ciarán was at Shark
ey’s on Friday night.” She made sure to make eye contact with each and every one of them. “And imagine what a fool I felt like when I realized that every single one of you knew about it and are therefore complicit in lying by omission.”
“That’s a thing?” Ciarán asked, mouth hanging open.
Siobhán pointed at him with her index finger. “You better believe that’s a thing.”
“Comments like those are the reason we rue the day you became a guard,” Gráinne said.
“Would any of you like to deny it?”
Heads remained bowed. She was guessing about them all keeping it a secret, but now that it had been confirmed, she felt her temper tap-dancing. Focus.
“I’m sorry,” Ciarán said. “I wanted to see the Octopus.”
“We minded him,” Gráinne said.
“We brought him home before midnight.”
Siobhán looked at James. He sighed. “Eoin mentioned it. I told him you probably already knew, and if you didn’t . . .”
“If I didn’t?”
He looked away. “If you didn’t . . . there was no harm done.”
Siobhán looked at Ann. It was her turn to confess. They were all going to confess. “I heard them sneak out. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t tell you because you’re always so worried about everything anyway.”
“I don’t expect much from you,” Siobhán said, already hating herself for sounding like an echo of their mam. “But I do expect honesty. If you wanted to go so bad, Ciarán, you should have come to me.”
“Would you have let me go?”
Siobhán bit her lip, lamenting the timing. She could hardly lecture them about honesty and then tell a white lie. Could she? “Probably not. And it turns out, I was right.”
“I wish I would have been there too,” Ann said. “Amanda was there.”
This was news. “How do you know that?”
“She told me.”
She looked to Gráinne, Eoin, and Ciarán.
“I saw her,” Ciarán said. “She wouldn’t pick a card.”
“Where did you see her?”
“Sharkey’s.”
“I understood that part, luv. Where in Sharkey’s?”
“She was on the back patio. I saw her smoking.”
Siobhán put her head in her hands, then looked at Ann. Ann threw her arms up. “I’ve never seen her smoke, I swear to ya, and I would never, ever smoke. I’m an athlete.”
“Are you going to punish me?” Ciarán’s voice trembled. She hated this.
“You’ll have extra chores,” Siobhán said. “You saw Amanda smoking on the patio. Did you go out onto the patio?”
Ciarán shook his head. “I waited for her to come back in. I was ready with the cards. She pushed them away. Called me a loser.”
This must have been after she found out about the horse. That might explain the rebellious behavior. “Then what?”
“She went up to the lad doing the cleaning.”
Siobhán sat up straight. “Cleaning?”
“Mopping.”
“In the middle of all of those people?”
“They spilled a lot.”
I bet they did. She did not want to picture it. “What was his name?”
“He’s talking about Eddie Houlihan,” Eoin piped up.
“Mikey’s boy,” James confirmed.
Eoin nodded. “He’s worked there for ages. Back when it was Finnegan’s.”
Eddie Houlihan was on their list of people to speak with. There had been so little time. The lad was very overweight and painfully shy.
“He started at Finnegan’s when he was sixteen,” James said.
“Why did Amanda go up to him?”
Ciarán shrugged. “I think to sneak her a drink.”
“Did he?”
“I didn’t pay attention. I just wanted to practice my card trick.”
“Extra chores for you. For all of you. No one is ever allowed to lie to me—either to my face or by omission again. Are we clear?”
Heads nodded all around.
Ciarán held up his hand. “But I can still sell Eoin’s graphic novels?”
“Are you ever going to sneak out of the house again?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
Ciarán crossed his arms. “You told me not to lie.”
“And?” Siobhán demanded.
“And I can’t predict the future.” He threw his arms up in frustration.
“Lots of extra chores,” Siobhán said. He put his head in his hands. “Now that we’ve sorted that out, is there anything else any of you saw or heard that evening that was unusual?”
“I swear to you, we didn’t stay long,” Eoin said. “There was music, and gambling, and drinking—the usual craic.”
Siobhán brought the playing cards out of her pocket. “Ciarán, did you do this?”
He cocked his head. “Those black marks?”
“Yes.”
He squinted. “Why would I do that?”
“You tell me. You were seen with playing cards.”
“What do those cards have to do with the case?” Gráinne cut in.
“I can’t tell you.”
Gráinne rolled her eyes. “Looks like honesty is a one-way street.”
“It’s my job.”
“I agree,” James said. “From now on, complete honestly from all of us.”
“Are you going to be honest with Elise?” Gráinne said. She couldn’t help but push people’s buttons.
“I’ve tried. There’s something wrong with her ears. They filter out everything she doesn’t want to hear.”
“That’s not part of this discussion,” Siobhán chimed in.
“We did hear one strange thing,” Eoin said. He and Gráinne exchanged a look.
“Go on.”
“The widow,” Gráinne said. “We heard her crying and yelling at someone.”
“It was on our way out,” Eoin said. “They were outside. She was saying over and over again, ’You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.’ ”
Siobhán sat up straight. “Who was she with?”
Gráinne shook her head. “Whoever it was, he or she was standing against the building. She was in front. We couldn’t see.”
“It wasn’t her husband though,” Eoin said.
Siobhán leaned forward. “Are you sure?”
Eoin nodded. “He was inside playing cards.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “I had just snapped a picture.” He turned it to her. There was Eamon Foley at a table, focused on his hand. The rest of the players were locals.
“Anyone else you can eliminate? Was Shane playing cards? Clementine?”
Gráinne shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention, we were trying to get Ciarán home.”
“I wasn’t paying attention either.” Eoin studied his phone. “Do you think this is the last picture ever taken of him?”
Alive, Siobhán added in her head. The last picture taken of him alive. “I don’t know. He was probably photographed a lot that evening.” In fact . . . “Please e-mail that photograph to me.” Most mobile phones had time stamps. Should they put out a request for folks to send in their images from that evening? See if they could figure out the person Rose Foley was pleading with?
“We thought about telling you,” Gráinne said. “But it seemed like a private conversation.”
“Privacy takes a backseat when you’re conducting an investigation.”
“We thought it was suicide,” Eoin said. “But you don’t think it is, do you?”
“She’s not going to tell us,” Gráinne said. Then added softly, “Because she’s good at her job.”
“Did you hear her say anything else?”
They shook their heads. “She was crying, but sounded mean too.” This from Ciarán.
“Did this person say anything back? Was it a male or female voice?”
“We didn’t hear a peep from the other person,” Gráinne said.
“Y
ou can’t, you can’t, you can’t . . .” Had she been speaking with Nathan Doyle? Had he dropped a hint to her that he was going to throw Eamon out of the tournament? Or was she simply assuming he might and pleading with him not to kick Eamon out of the games?
“He would have won. The money was supposed to be for our baby.” Rose had said something like that when they first interviewed her. Did Eamon Foley have an insurance policy?
If Rose was worried he wasn’t going to be able to play, did she switch the plan to death to get an insurance payout?
It wouldn’t matter. Siobhán didn’t know of a single policy that would pay out if the death was ruled a suicide.
But that’s not entirely what mattered. What mattered more was: Did Rose Foley know that? And would she be strong enough, in her condition, to pull the rope?
Chapter 19
The next morning Siobhán changed her usual jogging route, opting to run close to Celtic Gems. Not that getting close to the shop was going to answer any of her lingering questions about what Macdara and Nathan had been doing there, but nonetheless she found herself running past it. As she neared, she spotted Shane Ross leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. She stopped, wishing she wasn’t breathing so heavily, as it appeared to amuse him.
“Hey,” she said when she could finally speak. He nodded. She approached, glancing at the darkened windows of the shop.
“I’m waiting for it to open,” he said.
“Having a morning gem emergency?” She smiled, hoping he would see that she saw his lie for what it was. Absolutely ridiculous. Wait for a coffee shop or breakfast shop to open, absolutely. A doctor, no problem. A mechanic, understandable. A jewelry store? She was tired of being messed with.
He shrugged. “As soon as I’ve finished me shopping, I’d like to go home.”
“Home? You’re staying for the wake, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I suppose. But I’m bringing me suitcase. The minute it’s over, I’m out of here.”
“What shopping do you plan on doing here?”
He grinned, then tossed his cigarette to the ground. “I was going to propose to me girlfriend.”
“Was?”
“That was the plan. I said if I won the tournament, I’d ask her to marry me. Now that’s it canceled . . .” He stared into space. “I was just going to look at the rings.”
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