Hard Irish

by Jennifer Saints

  Rocky answered. “I left the nursing home and went to Sally’s Roadhouse. From there I came home then spent the night over at Dessie’s. I told her everything, but there is no way she’s behind this. Besides her, only you and Mack know Pat was supposed to bring me the package from my mother, but I didn’t tell either of you that until Monday night.”

  “Who’s Dessie?” Jesse asked.

  “Desmond Langford,” Jared said.

  “Neighbor and close friend,” Rocky added.

  “Wolf in sheep’s clothing?” Jesse asked.

  “You never know,” Jared answered. “Check her out.”

  “What?” Rocky glared at him and at the phone.

  “We’ll get back to you,” Jared told Jesse.

  “Hold up,” Jesse said. “One other thing. Because of the fire damage, Ringo is having a hard time scanning Unforgivable into word files for everyone. But from reading the preface, he gathers the crimes listed were all acts of violence between the British military and the Provisional Irish Republican Army. The first chapters detail key conflicts events between them dating back for centuries, but the rest are recent and infamous events, which might have some significance. He wants you to get to that list ASAP.”

  Rocky gripped Jared’s arm. He zeroed his gaze on her pale face. “What?” he asked. Had she remembered something? “Were on it,” Jared said. He disconnected the call and set his hand on Rocky’s. “Do you remember something?”

  “No. But I can put two and two together. My mom has no past. My mom came from Ireland in the early eighties when the IRA was one of the premier terrorist organizations in the world. I don’t want to know what’s in that book.”

  Jared exhaled. “Me neither, but for your sake we have to.”

  Rocky was already reaching for the list they’d read earlier. “Since we don’t have the book and none of the crimes rang a bell. Why don’t we Google each of them and see if other facts or details bring something to mind.”

  Jared set the computer between them. “What’s first?”

  Rocky ran her finger down the page. “We can start in 1974. My mother would have been ten then, if she wasn’t lying about her age. The event we’re looking for is called the M62 bombing.”

  Jared typed in the information and Rocky leaned in to read. “Off Duty British Soldiers and Their Families Murdered. Several different branches of the military were traveling on a bus with their families when an onboard bomb exploded. Over fifty people were wounded and eleven were killed, including a Corporal Houghton his wife and two sons. The Provisional Irish Republican Army claimed responsibility, which lead to celebrations in Belfast. What victory lies in the death of innocent people? ”

  “None. Let’s keep going.”

  Rocky drew a deep breath, trying to ease the knot in her stomach. Nothing helped. Not even Jared’s supportive presence. The crimes went in chronological order and showed atrocities committed on both sides. “Type in Lord Mountbatten,” Rocky said, going to the next name on the list.

  Jared did, this time he read the article. “In 1979 Lord Mountbatten, the cousin to Queen Elizabeth II, was assassinated by a bomb on his yacht, The Shadow V. Also killed were his fourteen year old grandson, Nicholas Knatchbull, Paul Maxwell, a fifteen year old boy from a nearby village. The Dowager, Lady Barbourne, died the next day from her injuries. Leader of the Provisional IRA said what the IRA did to Mountbatten, Mountbatten had been doing all of his life to other people.”

  Rocky pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the article. “Says here that eighteen Bristish soldiers were killed that same day. Ambushed in a guerrilla assault called the Warrenpoint Massacre. To label these times as ‘The Troubles’ is an understatement. So far, all of these are horrible tragedies that make me sick inside, but doesn’t tie into anything that I know about.”

  Jared moved on to the next crime. “Just a few months later it says here that five Catholic college students in Belfast were murdered, supposedly in revenge for Mountbatten’s assassination. The three men and two women were believed to have been involved in the IRA. They were tied to fence posts in a rural area and boiling pitch was poured over their heads before they were set on fire. Protestant, British soldiers were suspected but no charges were ever filed. The victims’ names were Liam McNall, Shona O’Loughlin, Deidre Finaggan, Alan Dunlavey, and Sean O’Prey.”

  Rocky gasped. “Dear God. I think I’m going to be sick to my stomach. How can people do this to each other?”

  Jared met her gaze with a troubled expression. “I don’t know. It is...unforgivable.”

  “College age? Two women?” She shuddered. “Shona is my and my mother’s middle name.”

  “Hell yeah.” Jared grabbed his cell phone. “Keep on, reading. This just might be the tiny fissure that will break this ball-buster wide open.”

  Rocky’s mind raced and her body tingled as Jared communicated to Jesse her name connection to one of the crime victims.

  “Jesse’s moving heaven and earth,” Jared said. “We should have information shortly.

  Rocky kept reading. She finished that article and read several more on the murders. After months of riots and protests from the community the five students were from, the British officer in charge, George Pearson, found his forces innocent of any wrong doing despite some evidence. Pearson blamed a protestant militia in Belfast. That militia adamantly denied its involvement.

  She sighed. Her heart burdened by the senseless loss of life and the inhumane cruelty. “You know, insanity doesn’t lie in the mentally disturbed, but in the ideologies of men.”

  “Too true,” Jared agreed. “Especially ideologies that gave no quarter, compassion, or acceptance for fellow human being who differ in beliefs or in any other way.”

  They kept reading.

  “George Pearson’s name appears again,” Rocky pulled up and scanned the article, giving Jared the highlights. “In 1982 Pearson and his wife, a niece to the rich Duke of Westbury were kidnapped by the IRA. Supposedly the ransom of a million pounds’ worth in diamonds was paid, but the couple was never found. Rumors were Pearson was killed for exonerating the British soldiers, but nothing could be proven. Though the brothers of McNall and O’Prey, two of the murdered college students, had been seen in the area of Pearson’s abduction, no other evidence surfaced.”

  Rocky closed her eyes as dread grabbed her insides. “My dad married my mother in 1982. She would have been eighteen then. Is it possible that...”

  Jared leaned in close and cupped her chin, locking his gaze to hers. “Maybe she had a connection to what happened to Pearson, if she had a connection to the Shona who was murdered. I’ll let Jesse know. Whatever it is that we find, remember two things. It may change the past as you know it, but it doesn’t change who you are inside. And you are not alone. I am right here with you, however you need me, behind you as support, beside you as a friend, in front of you as your protector, and” he grinned. “Inside of you as your lover.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or give into the tears threatening. She kissed him instead and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her mouth to his. In her moment of uncertainty, he seemed to be everything she needed to face her fears and the past. The kiss was light, just a meeting of their lips, a brief taste of heaven, but it went as deep, if not deeper than anything they’d shared before.

  She moved back, stunned at the flip her heart made.

  Jared let her go. A question lingered in his eyes as he dialed Jesse’s number. She hoped he didn’t mistake her surprise as rejection. This time, he didn’t put on the speaker-phone and he hung up within a minute. “Ringo is already on it. We should know a lot more in just a little while. The international computer banks that Sheridan-Weldon Solutions have access to are amazing.”

  “The whole company is amazing. How long have you worked for Jesse?”

  Jared coughed. “Dry throat,” he rasped. “Let’s get a drink.” He headed for the kitchen and she followed. “I started the R&D facility two and a h
alf years ago.” He opened the fridge and snagged two bottled waters. He handed her one. “I don’t know about you but, lunch disappeared a while ago.”

  Rocky shrugged. Just like a man to go from a kiss to grub in sixty seconds. She didn’t think she’d be able to eat anything, but fixing him something would help her keep her mind off the horror of Unforgivable and what part her mother might have played in the tragedies. “Grill cheese sandwich sound good?”

  “Perfect. My mother could never make enough grill cheese sandwiches to feed me and my brothers. We were like a bottomless pit. Same thing with mac and cheese. James and I both lived on those two things during college. I’ll check the perimeter and then come help.”

  “It’s a deal.” She set to work.

  Jared escaped the kitchen sure the hair on his chiny, chin, chin was singed. This was stupid. He should just tell Rocky that he’d lied. That he was in construction and...

  Hell. The only person a midnight confession would make feel better was him. She was dealing with enough shit already. He’d made his bed and he had to eat his guilt until this crap was over. Besides, Riley’s words describing his attacker still rankled. Tall, dark, just like you. While Jared had a solid alibi, it didn’t escape his mind that he also had an identical twin. The sabotaging of the job site could easily be blamed on a competitor, which is exactly what he and James were.

  It was with a heavy heart and a knotted stomach that he went through the motions of checking the perimeter from the windows. The moon hung bright and full, bathing the darkness in a silvery glow and he welcomed its light. When he reached the French doors at the back of the house, he caught a shadow moving across yard.

  His body tensed as an icy bath of reality hit him. The mystery surrounding Rocky had gone from the almost juvenile pushing of a planter to a possible murder that might have its roots in a terrorist’s organization. This shit was real. He went for his Glock.

  Had he really thought they were safe in her house with him guarding her?

  Sure, it might take ten seconds or ten minutes for the neighbors or the police to arrive, but he was beginning to realize a lot could happen in that span of time.

  He heard Rocky gasp and glanced her way. “There’s someone in your backyard and I’m not going to wait around like sitting ducks for them to set us on fire or something. I’m going to check it out.” He nodded to his cell phone. “Lock the door behind me and call Jesse.”

  “What? Are you crazy? You can’t go—”

  Jared slid open the French door and disappeared into the night with a grim determination. Anyone attempting to cause her harm in any way would meet his steely rage. Using his fist or his gun, he’d stop the SOB.

  Remaining in the shadows, he let his eyes adjust to the night then scanned the backyard. He didn’t see or hear anything, so he stayed put with his back to the house and waited.

  The steps leading to the roof-top garden cut away to his left. He was fairly certain that the intruder hadn’t had time to make it to the steps yet, but Jared didn’t discount the threat. He strained for the slightest sound.

  Before him, red tile paved the way to the pool that shone like quicksilver in the moonlight. Surrounding the pool were plenty of tall shrubs and plants for a man to hide behind. Suddenly, a clank of metal rang through the night and Jared shifted his focus to the far right, remembering that Rocky’s natural gas tank and the lines that fed gas into the house were in that direction.

  Moving a little closer, Jared watched as a shadow separated from the darkness.

  Jared aimed the Glock. “Stop or I’ll shoot.” The man ran towards him.

  Cursing, Rocky hit the redial on Jared’s phone.

  Jesse answered. “Bro?”

  “It’s Rocky. Jared’s gone outside after an intruder. He said to call you.”

  “Son of a bitch. He’s supposed to call BEFORE he does anything. Lock the door and stay put. I’ll have a man there in minutes.” Jesse hung up, leaving expletives ringing in her ears.

  Minutes? That wasn’t possible.

  She wasn’t about to let Jared face an intruder alone. She debated for a heartbeat on going back upstairs for her shotgun or running outside after Jared. She compromised by grabbing the iron poker from her fireplace and following him.

  She reached the end of her back porch and heard Jared’s shout. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  Jared was limping at a fast pace, chasing a man trying to escape, running toward her back fence. The man didn’t even pause at Jared’s warning, but ran faster.

  Rocky’s throat shut down, trapping her scream. While it scared the hell out of her to have a man in her yard, she didn’t want to see that man killed, because of it. Jared paused and took aim.

  “Oh God! Don’t kill him,” Rocky yelled and ran toward Jared. He glanced her way and the escaping intruder hit her back fence, vaulting over it.

  Jared lowered his gun, cursing. “I wasn’t going to kill him. Damn it, now we don’t have a clue as to who he was. What are you doing out here? I told you to stay inside. Go back.”

  She held up the poker. “Not without you. Jesse says he’ll have a man here in minutes.”

  “He probably has a backup man at the end of the street. When I came out, the intruder was over by the natural gas tank. I’m going to check it out first. I don’t smell gas, but you had better go back inside.” Jared moved toward the tank and she followed. She wasn’t going to leave him out here alone.

  He looked back irritated. “Go-”

  “Don’t waste your breath. I’ll go in when you do.”

  Jared bit back a few choice words, thinking he’d needed to set some bodyguard ground rules. “I think your mother’s Warrior Princess story brainwashed you. Your safety is more important than anything else, including your ego or my neck.”

  He’d make sure there was no damage to the natural gas tank then leave the rest up to Jesse’s backup. His brother should have told him he had a man close by, but then Jared realized he would have gotten his Jockey’s in a wad over it. Which made him realize his ego was the biggest block to her safety after all.

  “Ego has nothing to do with it,” Rocky said. “Two people facing an intruder are better than one.”

  “Not when one of them is the target.”

  Five feet away from the tank, out of the corner of his eye, Jared caught a flash of red digits glowing in the dark up by where the gas pipes attached to Rocky’s house.

  His blood froze and his body exploded into action.

  “Run!” He swung around and grabbed Rocky’s hand.

  The pool was just yards away to the left. He went left.

  Every split second seemed like an eternity. Visions of them being burned alive in a ball of fire filled his mind.

  His heart thundered painfully as he pumped harder to run, he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t move fast enough as if he knew deep in his gut they weren’t going to make it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Dive!” Jared yelled when they were feet from the pool’s edge. The blast wave slammed into him just as he hit the water and nearly had him plowing nose first into the cement bottom.

  A quick glance at Rocky confirmed she was with him underwater and all right. He had no trouble seeing. The world was cast in red. Above them, fire raged as if they were beneath hell itself.

  Still holding his Glock in one hand, Jared grabbed Rocky’s hand and led her to the far end of the pool, away from the fire and the house. Maneuvering underwater with the immobilizing boot on his leg was no picnic. His lungs were screaming by the time they cautiously surfaced. He sucked in hot smoky air and coughed.

  Flames raged to at least fifty feet in the air, coming from the area of her natural gas tank and the left side of her house. Everything that lay within the blast zone had been blown away or leveled—planters, lounge chairs, trees, the fence. The glass windows and doors on the lower level to the house had been shattered.

  He watched Rocky turn a three-sixty, her eyes wide with horrified sho
ck. The fire ball burned out as it consumed the gas from the tank. The fire at the left side of her house still burned. Why was the fire contained, and not house wide? The ground around the pool smoldered with debris, some of it still burning. Most of her privacy fence had been leveled. He reached for her, and drew her shivering body against his, pulling her securely into his arms. He needed to hold her, was incapable of anything else.

  “Thank God.” He shuddered. “Thank God you are all right.”

  “You too,” she whispered and buried herself into the crook of his neck. “How did you know?”

  “I didn’t know. I just got glimpse of glowing red digits on the pipes by the house. The rest was instinct and gut reaction.”

  She looked about clearly in shock. “I lost the cell phones when I dove into the water.”

  “Forget the phones. You’ve got a bigger problem. It’s official.”

  “What?”

  “Someone wants you out of the picture.” He saw a shadow to their right, coming around the non-burning side of Rocky’s house. Adrenaline kicked in. He shifted Rocky behind him, aiming the Glock. “Don’t move another inch.”

  “It’s Mulligan.” The man stepped forward, hands held up. Jared recognized the Sheridan-Weldon Solutions employee whose office at the R&D facility he and Jesse had spoken in just this morning. Jared lowered the 9mm. Born in Ireland, the seasoned bodyguard known as “Black Irish” traveled all over the world into harrowing situations, but looked more rattled than Jared had ever seen him. It was as if the gray at the man’s temples had doubled.

  “Holy Mother Mary, I’m damn glad to see you two. Jesse went off the deep end with the explosion. Talk about shooting the messenger.” He drew out his cell. “They’re safe, boss. Will report back shortly.” He hung up and moved over to the pool steps. “What in the bloody hell happened? This looks like a war zone. Fire and rescue are on the way.”