by Elin Peer
“Sweetie, they’ll love you. How could they not?”
Liv didn’t look convinced but she agreed to go home with me to meet them all.
CHAPTER 11
The Mastermind Group
Liv
Charles and I took the train to Howth, which turned out to be a large fishing village in a suburban area, located forty minutes outside of Dublin. It was a tourist destination with a romantic little harbor, a number of seafood restaurants, and little tea-shops.
“The Red Manor is a bit hidden.” After a ten-minute walk, Charles steered me up a long driveway with impressive, large trees on each side of the road.
“Wow, this reminds me of…” I stopped myself before revealing that I’d been at his grandfather’s house back in Chicago. “I mean it’s similar to a driveway back in the States. It must be so pretty in the summer, almost like entering a long cave of green all around you.”
“Yes. It is.”
“Oh, wow.” After the narrow driveway, the grounds opened up and revealed a large estate surrounded by stone walls and hedges. “How old is it?” I was referring to the manor house that stood like something from an Irish postcard.
“I have no idea.”
My eyes scanned the fancy cars parked out front and the beautiful horses watching us from their paddock. This place was like an advertisement for material success.
I didn’t expect this place to be so large. The other houses we passed were tiny compared to this.
Charles raised his hand and pointed behind the manor itself. “Conor is having an annex with ten rooms and bathrooms built down there by the pond;, do you see it?”
“Yes.”
“I love the back yard. In the summer we had bonfires and there’s a tennis court that you can’t see from here.”
The closer we got to the house, the more nervous I got. I wasn’t blinded by the loveliness of the place because unlike Charles, I knew what cruelty Conor O’Brien was accused of. The man had a long list of criminal offenses in his repertoire, from blackmailing to fraud. There were also several restraining orders against him from former members of his group. The report spoke of situations where he’d turned violent. Eileen’s words from the day before yesterday ran through my mind. The cruel behavior toward Julie, who was in a psychiatric hospital right now while her daughter, River, still lived under Julie’s tormentors’ control. According to the report from Kit, Julie had been devoted to O’Brien, and so desperate to show her loyalty to him that she’d accepted living in a bare room without any furniture or as much as a blanket or pillow to sleep with. After a month, Julie had begged him to allow her back with the group but the monster had told her that she was unworthy and accused her of stealing from him. That’s when he’d kicked her out in front of her own daughter.
Mr. Robertson, Eileen, and Kit had all warned me that O’Brien was a predatory psychopath, and now Charles was taking me to meet him.
“Don’t be nervous. You’ll love them.” Charles held my hand and I squeezed his fingers tight as we walked up the stairs and entered the house. Inside was an entry way with a high ceiling, modern art on the walls, and a round table with flowers in the middle of the room.
“Come on.” With another reassuring smile, Charles led me to a kitchen where three women were cooking and chatting. They looked up as we entered.
“Ah, there ye are. We thought ye’d gotten into trouble.” A woman who looked to be in her late thirties and spoke with a clear Irish accent put down the knife she’d used for slicing tomatoes. “And who is yer friend?” She cleaned her hands in her apron and came to greet me with the two other women.
I shook hands with the Irish woman as Charles introduced me. “This is Liv. She and I met back in the states five years ago and now we’re a couple.”
“A couple are ye?” I caught a glimpse of skepticism before she stepped aside to let the other two women greet me. They looked similar with olive skin, brown hair, and noses with an arch that made them appear as they’d stepped out of a painting from ancient Greece or Rome.
One of them showed me all the flour on her hands and spoke with a lovely Mediterranean accent. “Hello, it’s so nice to meet you, I would shake your hand but I’m baking pita bread for our dinner tonight. I hope you’ll join us. We’re having moussaka, Greek salad, and fresh pita bread.”
“That’s sounds amazing. It smells lovely in here.”
“Oh, that’s because we have a cake in the oven.” Ciara’s smile didn’t seem genuine to me, or maybe I was just being careful not to trust anyone in this house.
“Ciara bakes something sweet for us every day,” the Mediterranean woman without flour on her hands said with a loving smile to the Irish woman, who managed to look both stylish and maternal with her silk blouse, jewelry, apron, and make-up.
Charles put his arm around me. “Ciara has been with the group the longest. She runs this house and has two boys with Conor. Maya and Isabel are from Portugal. They’re twins although not identical.”
“Yes, we’re Trinners like Charles,” one of the twins said.
I looked at him because I’d no idea what a Trinner was.
“Except I teach there while you study.” He gave the twins, who couldn’t be more than twenty-three, a smile.
“Is a Trinner someone who studies at Trinity College?” I asked them and the taller of the twins, Maya, nodded. “How come you chose to study here in Ireland?”
“We wanted to try something different.” They exchanged a glance and I picked up that there was something they weren’t telling me.
“How long have you been here?”
“Almost a year. We were just supposed to stay for a semester, but then we got this unique opportunity to work with Conor, and he has helped us so much.”
“That’s right.” Isabel chimed in. “We used to be these clueless kids who just cared about fashion and likes on social media, but now it’s like we see people for what they are and we’re tapping into our full potential.”
“That’s… eh, nice.” I took mental notes that these girls fit the description of the people that O’Brien targeted. They were without their family’s protection in a foreign country, and I would bet a lot of money that they came from an affluent family too.
“Conor is upstairs in the schoolroom with the children. I know he wants to talk to ye.” Ciara opened her arms to Charles and pulled him in for a hug. “And don’t ye scare us like that again.”
Charles looked ever so happy to be fussed about, and thinking back to what I knew about him, he probably never really had that maternal figure in his life. With a grandmother who was sick, and a grandfather who was busy, he’d been left to nannies.
Walking up the stairs, I saw more art on the walls, spanning many styles and ages. The wooden stairs were covered by a thick oriental runner in red colors. Upstairs, we walked into a large library where books decorated each wall and two long study tables were set up in the middle. At one of them a group of five older children were sitting with their books out while a man stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was handsome, with a silver fox look, although he couldn’t be more than in his early forties.
“Hey.” Charles walked straight to the man, who pushed out from the wall and gave Charles a manly hug, slapping his shoulders.
“I tried to call you all night.”
“I’m sorry. I got distracted.” There was a large smile on Charles’ face as he reached out his hand, urging me forward. “I want you to meet Liv.”
The first thing that hit me was a scent of expensive cologne that matched his stylish look of dark pants and a fashionable sweater with a v-cut that revealed a button-down shirt underneath. Meeting Conor’s eyes, I saw him scan me with interest as he reached out a strong hand to shake mine while still talking to Charles. “You’re forgiven. I would have been distracted too.” He oozed confidence, giving me a charming smile and letting an appreciative glance slide up and down my body. “Liv was it?” He held my hand between both his
while keeping eye contact with me. “What an interesting name, I’m sure you know the name Liv means life and originates from the Scandinavian languages.”
“Yes, I know.”
His brow lifted. “I’m impressed. Americans aren’t always familiar with the origin of their names.”
“Well, I’m a first-generation immigrant, so my origin is still fresh.”
“Liv moved to Chicago when she was eight. Her family is from Denmark.”
I had told Charles yesterday during the bus trip and he looked proud to tell my story.
“And what about you?” I smiled at Conor. “How many generations have you gone back in knowing your family history?”
“Oh, that’s not hard when you live in Ireland. O’Brien was a powerful clan and ruled large areas.”
I knew from the report that the charismatic man in front of me was born with the last name Bricks. He might wish he was related to the mighty O’Briens, but he was a fraud. I was supposed to charm my way into the cult, but even though my side gig of escorting brilliant business men to boring events had taught me to keep a polished façade, I couldn’t help myself from asking, “And whose side of the family did you get your name from? Your mom or your dad?”
“Neither.” He stood with a calm smile on his face. “I picked the name O’Brien because my own family name didn’t suit me.”
That surprised me. Why would he tell me that?
“Come, I’m sure the children are eager to meet you too.” With a hand to my elbow, he steered me to the table, where five teenagers sat watching us. “Liv, meet my children Atlas, Lumi, Nathan, River, and Maximum.”
All the teens greeted me, but it was the oldest boy who caught my attention. He looked like a mini Conor except he had glasses and a much more serious expression on his face.
“Did I get your name right?” I asked him. “Atlas as in a world map?”
“Yes.” The young man scratched his collarbone and it made me take in the striped polo shirt he was wearing. The small stitched-on horse and rider told me it was a Ralph Lauren. In fact, all the teens were wearing expensive brands and looked healthy.
“And how old are you?”
“Almost seventeen.”
A younger boy next to him snorted and it made Atlas elbow him. “I am.”
“Yeah, in eight months. That’s not soon, is it?”
“You can sit here if you’d like.” A blond girl smiled at me and patted a seat. Remembering Eileen’s words that it would be wise to make friends with the children, I took the girl’s offer and sunk down on the chair next to her.
“What about you? How old are you?” I addressed the boy who had teased Atlas.
He was of mixed race and looked young. “I’m fourteen.”
“You are?” I wouldn’t have guessed him to be more than twelve or thirteen. Clearly age was a sensitive subject and I didn’t want to offend any of them, so I quickly added, “And your name was Nathan, right?”
“Yes. My mom named me Nathaniel and later when she met Conor, she changed it to Liberty, but that’s a stupid name and since she isn’t here anymore, I go by Nathan.”
“What do you mean when you say your mom isn’t here anymore?”
“She left.” He shrugged and Conor moved to stand behind him with his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“Every parent loves their child, but not every parent is fit to care for one.”
Kit had told me that Nathan’s mom had committed suicide, and my heart ached with sadness from the closed-off expression on the boy’s face.
The blond girl looked to be the youngest of the five. She raised her hand like I was a teacher and I nodded to her.
“I’m Sun River Devine, but I only go by River. In two months, I’ll be twelve years old. And that is Lumi. She’s the oldest. She’s seventeen but Conor says she has the maturity of someone in their thirties. Maximum is Conor’s and Ciara’s other son and he just turned thirteen last week.
Conor spoke up. “You’re all my children, River. We talked about that. We’re a family here.”
“Yeah, but I meant blood-related.”
“The word is biologically,” Atlas corrected her. “Blood-related is a less refined word.”
“Fine.” River leaned back in her seat and looked down with a small pout on her face.
“Blood-related described it just fine,” I said to comfort the girl.
“Actually…” Conor moved around the table at a slow pace and as he passed each teen, he touched their shoulders. “We take great care to develop the children’s vocabulary. Words have power and we want them to communicate in a concise and refined manner. Using precise words, as well as the correct tone, will make people respect you, and once you have their respect, doors open up to you.”
“Are there more children in your family?”
“Not at the moment.” He was coming my way, and I didn’t like that I was sitting while he was standing, so I got up. “I noticed that your wife has that wonderful Irish accent, but you don’t seem to have one. Where are you from?”
“I don’t have a wife.”
“Oh, I meant the boys’ mother. We met her downstairs.”
“I have to correct your misconception. I’m not married to Ciara or anyone else for that matter.” He gave me a smile that I would categorize as mildly flirtatious. “Ciara and I have a history and I’m bound to her in spirit, but that’s the same with everyone else in my tribe. As for your question of where I come from, the answer is London, but I’ve lived in many places and I’ve acquired what some would say is a clean or neutral accent.”
I tilted my head. “I don’t know. It’s clear to hear that you’re from this side of the Atlantic. You sound like a newsreader on the BBC. Proper and well-articulated.”
“Thank you, but I’ve lived in Ireland long enough that I tend to use some of the local lingo. Where in the US are you from?”
“Chicago.”
“Oh, I see. Same as Charles. Are you old friends?”
“Yes, actually, Charles and I go back five years. We didn’t meet in Chicago though. We met at Harvard and it’s a funny story really, because we were both called Charlie and so I accidentally took his coffee order, thinking it was mine.”
River smiled at me, but Lumi sighed. “You shouldn’t use words such as actually, really, and so. An over-reliance on adverbs is a sign of weak communication. In writing it would be considered a sign of insufficient revision.”
“Really?” My tone was lighthearted. “Well, I guess my degree from Harvard was a complete waste of money if I can’t even communicate on the level of you smart teenagers.”
River laughed and moved in her seat. “You did it again, you used really and well. You can’t do that.”
I liked her because of all the people in this house she was the youngest and most innocent. Placing a hand in front of my mouth, I made big eyes and then she and I laughed together. Charles pulled me against his side and laughed too.
“Charles, there is something I’d like to discuss with you. I’m sure the children can entertain Liv for a moment until we’re back.”
I nodded to Charles and returned to my seat when the men left. As soon as the door closed, I leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial tone of voice. “Okay, so who wants to tell me the best pranks you’ve played on your teachers?”
None of them spoke, and I sensed tension around the table.
“Argh, don’t tell me you never prank the adults. Then what about each other at least? I love a good prank.”
Maximum, a quiet boy with blond hair and soulful brown eyes, looked over his shoulder to check that the door was closed. “One time, I pranked my parents. I told my mom that my dad needed to speak with her, but then when she went to his bedroom, he was with Sara.”
I frowned. “Did they laugh about it?”
Maximum shook his head.
My heart went out to the boy. He was probably as confused about his parents’ relationship as I was, and maybe it had been his wa
y of trying to wake up his mom and make her see that his dad wasn’t faithful to her. But I suspected Ciara had already known that.
“I once pranked Lumi.” River snickered and moved closer to me. “She doesn’t like it when I sleep with her in her bed, so I waited until she’d fallen asleep and then I snuck in and slept next to her.”
“You do that all the time.” Lumi gave another sigh that was worthy of a teenager. “That’s not what a prank is. A prank is like the time Nathan put salt in the sugar bowl, or when he hid all the knives from the kitchen and the adults had to search the whole house to find them.”
“But that wasn’t funny at all,” River complained. “Remember how much trouble you got in, Nathan, and you ruined the cake for all of us.”
I threw my hands up. “You people aren’t much in the line of pranksters, are you? Wanna hear some of the greatest pranks that I played on my parents?”
“I do.” Nathan put his hand down on the table and looked at me with interest.
“No, you don’t.” Lumi told him and gave me a reproachful glance, before she returned to Nathan. “Why would you lower your energy to do hurtful things when you could attract bad karma because of it?”
He scrunched his nose up. “I just wanted to hear what she did. It’s not like I was planning to copy her.”
Pushing Nathan’s book closer to him, Lumi muttered, “If you want entertainment all you have to do is read.”
I stared at her with fascination. “Wow, you really are like an old person trapped in a young body, aren’t you?”
“Lumi is a lot of fun when you get to know her,” Atlas defended his friend, but then he scratched his collarbone again. “At least she can be.”
Clearly my tactic of bonding with the kids through a bit of rebellious fun had fallen flat, so I changed tactics. “What are you all reading?”
“We’re going through the hundred greatest novels ever written. I’m reading Don Quixote.” Nathan showed me. The others showed me the titles of their books too, spanning everything from classic English literature to a book by Salman Rushdie.
