Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Also by Poppy J. Anderson
Newsletter
A Romance Novel
Blast from the Past
Poppy J. Anderson
Boston 5
(Book 2)
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, businesses, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Blast from the Past
Copyright © 2015 by Poppy J. Anderson
Cover design by Catrin Sommer – www.rauschgold.com
Edited by Annie Cosby
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Publication: 2015
www.poppyjanderson.com
[email protected]
Chapter 1
Shane Fitzpatrick was sitting across from his sister-in-law’s colleague, praying for a murder to happen.
To be clear, he was not a demented serial killer who enjoyed mutilated corpses—no, his motive was a completely different one. A murder would have called him away from this horrible date, because he was a detective with the Boston Police homicide division. He had agreed to the date after his sister-in-law, Hayden, had badgered him for weeks, wanting to hook him up with the sugar-sweet Gloria, who was now sitting across from him, eating pasta and desperately trying to look good. He might even have fancied her, for she was a pretty woman with bright blue eyes and a sweet smile, which, unfortunately, made his head ache. Artificial women just didn’t do anything for him. Neither did submissive women who simpered and made goo-goo eyes at him as if he were Jesus in the flesh, or maybe Carl Yastrzemski, the famous and unforgettable Boston Red Sox player who hadn’t played even a single day of his career for any other team.
Although … following that thought, Shane didn’t expect Gloria to have the slightest inkling of who the left fielder Yaz even was. With her constantly fluttering eyelashes, Gloria struck him as someone whose thoughts were filled with the best ways to get him under her spell, and not a lot more. But the harder she tried, the more she scared him off.
She seemed like the kind of woman who spent hours in front of the mirror practicing the prefect smile, in order to show it off on a boring date such as this. Apart from her dazzling smile, he thought she was rather dull—and boring as hell. Shane had grown up in an Irish household, where his mom had worn the breeches, even though his dad liked to claim that wasn’t true. He was used to the women in his family cutting him short, protesting loudly, and threatening to slap him, so he was virtually repulsed by shallow, pampered women.
He needed action in his life; after all, that was one of the reasons he had become a policeman.
In his opinion, a woman should be passionate, loud, and full of life. And she should laugh a lot.
He hadn’t met a woman who interested him in a long time. He got the feeling that the world was full of whining, demanding, and exhausting women, who’d apparently made it their mission to drive him insane.
Half a year ago, he had dated the commissioner’s assistant, Kim, for a few weeks. Whenever he’d been forced to cancel a date, she had stalked him. She’d been like a limpet, clinging to him and spying on his every move. Unfortunately, it had taken him a few weeks to realize he was developing an aversion to her and her nagging voice. It was a shame, for she possessed an amazing body. He had only broken up with her when he’d realized just how much he balked at the idea of bringing her along to the weekly Sunday dinner with his family. Kim would not have blended in with his family, and even though Shane didn’t exactly come across as a mama’s boy, his family meant everything to him. So he’d broken up with Kim.
The subsequent crabby glances he got whenever he entered the HQ were no picnic, but much easier to bear than the thought of being chained to such a bundle of nerves for life. Kim had constantly been pouting and sulking while they dated, and she’d all but terrorized him whenever he didn’t answer the phone right away.
Of course, his job was not the most conducive to a relationship, but he believed the right woman would accept the fact that he might be called to a crime scene at any time, even in the middle of the night. In his family, time-consuming—and sometimes dangerous—jobs were the norm. He wasn’t the only Fitzpatrick policeman; his younger brother Ryan had followed in his footsteps there. His baby brother would be twenty-six soon, but, all the same, the fact that he’d just been promoted from patrolling to the relatively safe fraud office was a relief to Shane. Ryan was a typical Fitzpatrick, which meant he was hotheaded, big-mouthed, and a little high-tempered. Since Shane was working with the homicide squad, which seemed so much more exciting to Ryan, the lout had screamed bloody murder when he’d been given what he saw as a boring post. But both their mom and Shane had thanked God for the promotion. After all, Shane was concerned about his brother Heath all the time, so he had no time to worry about Ryan, too.
Heath was his oldest brother, and he worked as a firefighter, just like their father had. Dad had died on duty three years ago, and, after that tragedy, Shane was simply glad that Ryan was no longer in danger of being shot down on the beat by some manic drug dealer.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry as much about his other two siblings, Kayleigh and Kyle. His sister, Kayleigh, who was one year younger than him, worked as a doctor in the emergency room, and his brother Kyle had left his job as a paramedic in order to study medicine, too. He was Ryan’s identical twin, but much less of an adrenaline junkie. He possessed a much calmer disposition and was just as deeply in love with the medical field as his sister.
Heath, as the oldest of the five Fitzpatrick children, was the only one who had ventured into married life so far, a fact that bothered their devout mother greatly. Shane knew this only too well, because she complained to him on a weekly basis that she still had only one daughter-in-law and one grandchild. The second grandchild was on the way, however, with Hayden being seven months pregnant with baby number two. He was not daft and knew that his mom expected him in no uncertain terms to be the next to provide her with grandchildren. Kayleigh showed no signs of intending to bring home a man and present him as her boyfriend, while the twins were enjoying their lives as young, good-looking single men far too much to want to think about a house, a minivan, and child-proof outlets.
Shane, on the other hand, had nothing against the idea of coming home to a cozy house at night, cuddling and roughhousing with his children, the way he did with his godchild when he visited his older brother. Joey was two years old and a real heartbreaker. Several times now, her perfectly round toddler face had driven home the fact that Shane was sick of wolfing down microwave dinners in front of the TV on his own, or walking into an empty apartment at the end of the day. When he was younger, he would have laughed at neurotic urban single people who played tapes of the sound of a toilet flushing and cutlery clattering just to drown out the deafening silence of their loneliness. Now, he pondered getting some kind of pet, so he�
�d at least not be completely alone.
At thirty years old, he thought wistfully of his own childhood, his loud and sometimes annoying family, his four siblings. He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. To be honest, he was wishing for something similar now. Maybe not all five children, though—two or three would be enough. He was Irish, true, but he didn’t need a whole litter.
He needed a woman, though. Yes, he wished he had a woman at his side, but not one like Gloria. He glanced at her in irritation, seeing her staring at her own teeth in the butter knife and then making faces in an effort to get the spinach out from between her front teeth with her tongue. Looking at her filled him with a feeling of disgust.
He abruptly lowered his gaze to his plate of spaghetti again, twirled his fork, and came up with a wad large enough to feed an adult grizzly bear. He put it in his mouth and chewed. He was ready to eat the porcelain plate if that would keep him from having to make conversation.
What in the world had made Hayden think it was a good idea to hook him up with this Gloria girl? The timid, vain elementary-school teacher was anything but his type, and his sister-in-law should have known that. Hayden had known him since they were both kids, after all! He had never been one to mince his words, and he remembered making fun of naïve, girlish women at the family dinner table, telling stories of their thank-you gifts of homemade cake and their outfits of hand-knit pullovers with rose-shaped buttons. This should have been evidence enough for Hayden that he and sugary Gloria could never be an item.
No, he wanted a woman with whom he could fight as passionately as he could make love with her. But where could he find such a woman?
He had been twelve when he kissed Cassie McIntyre behind the church, and sixteen when he lost his virginity to Amber Stevenson. After that, there had been many women he had spent time with, amused himself with. Some people called him a player or womanizer, which he acknowledged with a dry smile—at least when he was in a good mood. When he felt grumpier, he might answer such an assessment with a punch, because he disliked the label. Plus, he knew his mom was anything but happy to hear rumors about her children’s wild sex lives.
“Are you enjoying your meal, Shane?”
“Mm-hm,” he replied, cryptic and peevish. He actually liked Italian food, but the thought of having to stay for dessert made his stomach turn.
Gloria giggled irritatingly. “I normally don’t eat pasta in the evening. A few years ago, I was a little … chubby.” Her smile was apologetic. “Do you know Weight Watchers? They have a wonderful program, and they even give you a personal dietary advisor. It was there that I learned you shouldn’t eat carbs after six p.m.”
Shane did not reply to this. Instead, he put another huge load of those bedeviling carbohydrates into his mouth, only to mop up the tasty sauce with the crust of his bread—all carbs as well—and eat that, too. His mom would have boxed his ears if she had seen the table manners he was exhibiting. She was not here, however, and he was not inclined to be considerate of Gloria’s sensitivity, so he really didn’t care.
It didn’t seem to bother her much, either.
“I lost twelve pounds with their program, and now I only allow myself to eat carbs at night if I work out before that. I knew we would be going to an Italian restaurant tonight, so I went to a Zumba class this afternoon. Let me tell you, that is the most surefire way to melt that fat right off your thighs.”
Her giggling was awful enough to spoil a man’s appetite, but Shane was used to worse things than an annoying blonde at his table. Not even a waterlogged corpse could spoil his appetite.
He replied with another vague sound while he put a hand in his pocket to see whether his phone was still there.
Normally the damn thing beeped at the most inopportune times, but tonight, when he needed a mutilated body to save him, it remained silent. Only a few weeks ago, at his mom’s birthday, when he had just placed a juicy cutlet on his plate, his mouth watering at the sight and smell of the meat, a call came in and he’d had to leave to deal with a homicide. No time for all the delicious food his mom had cooked, which had been a damn shame.
The phone had even interrupted his niece’s baptism almost two years ago, which had induced the wrath of his sister-in-law, his mother, and his own sister. It wasn’t his fault that they’d fished a corpse out of the harbor when Josephine was about to receive the Church’s first sacrament and blessing!
There were no guaranteed off-days for a detective, because guess what, murderers were seldom considerate of a policeman’s family functions. Of course, there were times when his job came in handy, and he could use it as an escape to avoid washing the dishes. Even when he wasn’t on duty, he made sure to be informed when a murder occurred. In most cases, his inherent curiosity led him to visit the crime scene and ask what had happened.
“Do you play any sports, Shane?”
His train of thought interrupted, he looked up and found his date watching him with curiosity and bright blue eyes. He swallowed the piece of bread crust in his mouth and raised his head a little more. With a shrug, he replied, “Sure.”
That was neither very polite nor encouraging, but Gloria didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Her admiring gaze didn’t falter for a second. “I like men who are into sports,” she said, giggling again in that inimitably annoying fashion.
He had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Instead, he put the last bit of bread into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.
“Maybe we could exercise together next time, Shane.”
He had a hard time trying not to look startled at her suggestion. Either Gloria was a bit dense or extremely thick-skinned, if she didn’t see that this date was anything but a success. It should’ve been obvious that there would be no follow-up to an evening such as this. The awkward silence stretched on for too long. Shane loved to eat, but he would gladly go without dessert if it meant he could leave sooner.
How on earth could Gloria think they should see each other again?
Just as he was about to say something, his phone really did ring.
He acted apologetic, but all he felt was relief as he took the call. He might have to go to confession after this to avoid purgatory for his immortal soul, because he longed for a murder with all his heart. “Hello?”
The irritated voice of his captain came on. “Fitzpatrick? Why don’t you say your name when you answer the phone?”
He frowned in confusion. “Sir, I thought this was my night off—”
“That’s what I thought, too,” Captain Philipps barked at him. “And now I’ll probably be late to the Bruins-Canucks game!”
Shane knew about his superior’s fanatic love for hockey, so he didn’t say anything, waiting for his captain to go on.
“I got a call from up high. You need to get your ass over to the South End, ASAP.”
Shane turned around so his back was to Gloria and cleared his throat. “Sir … why are you calling me? Is it a murder? I—”
“Damn, Fitzpatrick! I have no idea what’s going on. They didn’t tell me anything, save that it’s about a closed case. Now drive to the address I’m going to give you, so I can finally head out to watch the game!”
Shane found himself shrugging, because he was just happy to end this date, whatever the reason. It was easy to get up and leave Gloria sitting there after half-heartedly excusing himself with an apology. He got into his car and drove to the address his captain had given him. On the way, he brainstormed how he could get back at Hayden for tormenting him like that, and he puzzled over the cryptic statement of his captain. He took off his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt.
Neither the address nor the surname rang any bells, and he didn’t know anything about a closed case, either. But this wasn’t the first time he’d been called to a crime scene without knowing what to expect there, so he didn’t worry much.
The only strange thing was the fact that his captain had called to send him there, in addition to the fact that there were no shut
-offs or patrol cars in sight.
He parked his car at the curb, got out, and stared up at the three-story building, which didn’t look as if a murder had taken place anywhere inside or around it. He pulled out his badge while climbing the stairs to the front door and rang the bell next to the name “Parker.” For a fraction of a second, he felt as if he’d forgotten something significant regarding this name. But he immediately shook his head at himself. Parker was a very common name.
He heard the buzzer and pushed the door open. Yawning, he stepped into the hallway and raised his head to see where the stairs were, but the click of a lock to his left told him where he needed to go.
He turned and raised his badge as the door opened, and then he froze.
The black-haired woman standing in the doorway to the apartment looked as shocked as he was. Her blue eyes stared at him as if she didn’t believe what they saw, and then her sonorous voice, which still sent shivers down his spine, said, “Liam?”
Chapter 2
Thorne Parker had the feeling she was seeing a ghost. She blinked in confusion, but the apparition before her did not vanish.
He stood there, just as she remembered him, dark-haired, tall, and handsome, staring right back at her from his light brown eyes, which had caught her attention the first time she’d met him. His eyes still had that fascinating gleam that had made her heart skip a beat every time he’d shown up at the pub where she was working as a waitress at the time. Unlike back then, Liam Gallagher was wearing a suit now, and his face was clean-shaven. A far cry from the faded jeans, messy hair, and careless stubble she had known on him. It would have been easy not to recognize him in his dark gray suit, with his open shirt collar, but this was the man who had waltzed into her life seven years ago, turned it upside down, and then vanished without warning. Without even mentioning he might break up with her.
Blast From The Past (The Boston Five Series #2) Page 1
