Chasing Secrets

by Lynette Eason

“Yeah.”

  She fell silent for the next several minutes.

  “Where are you from?” he asked. “I hear the accent.”

  “Belfast, Ireland.”

  “You’re a long way from home.”

  “I am a long way from Ireland. This country is now my home.”

  He had a feeling there was a story there. She didn’t say much of anything else other than to give him the directions on how to find her car.

  He stopped perpendicular to the vehicle she pointed to, then slid a glance in her direction. “You’re kidding me.”

  She lifted a brow. “What?”

  “A Hummer?”

  One side of her mouth curved upward. “Yeah. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

  “I think I need to get into the personal protection business.”

  “I didn’t pay for it. It was a gift.”

  He grimaced. “Oh. Sorry. I made a snap judgment, didn’t I?”

  “Kind of.” She waved a hand in dismissal. “But it’s understandable. A lot of people do.”

  “Dare I ask who gave it to you?”

  “A former client. Her name was Helen Young. She had a stalker.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “It’s not what you think. He didn’t kill her. In fact, my former client is still healthy and loving life. Helen’s in her late sixties and very wealthy. She’d been married to the love of her life, Ivan, for fifty years before he passed away of pancreatic cancer three years ago. She mourned the fact that they’d never been able to have any children, but finally accepted it wasn’t meant to be, and she and Ivan made it their mission to use their money to help others—especially teens. A year and a half ago, she met Frank, who was a widower and in his seventies. Apparently, he could be quite the charmer, and Helen admitted she liked him a lot and may have eventually married him. But then Helen found out that Frank simply wanted her money and had even promised her fortune to his children and grandchildren. Of course she dropped him like a hot potato.”

  “And he didn’t like that?”

  “Actually Frank didn’t seem to be terribly upset about it, but one of his sons didn’t like it at all. He sent threatening letters, showed up at her house several times, and tried to bully her into marrying his father. Things like that.”

  Steven shook his head. “What was he thinking?”

  She frowned. “That older women make easy marks. Anyway, she hired our agency, and Helen and I grew particularly close in the six months I was with her. She’s lived an amazing life and I never tired of hearing her stories. One night while I was on duty, Frank’s son tried to kill her. I stopped him.”

  “Stopped him how?”

  “I . . . shot him.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I am too. I’m sorry he chose to behave the way he did. I’m sorry he’s dead. I’m not sorry I stopped him from killing Helen.” She cleared her throat and looked away. Then pulled in a deep breath. “Anyway, to make a long story short, the Hummer had been her husband’s baby. It was his last purchase before he took a turn for the worse. My car was an old clunker on its last legs and it finally died while I was working with her. Later, when the dust settled and all was said and done, I was at her house one afternoon and she excused herself. When she came back, she handed me the keys and said she’d be honored if I’d be the one to drive Ivan’s Hummer.”

  “She liked you a lot.”

  Her eyes warmed. “Still does. We try to have a meal together at least once a month.”

  They fell silent. She didn’t move to get out of the car. Instead, she kept her hand on the door handle.

  “Have you noticed the car parked across the street?” he asked.

  “The blue Toyota Camry?”

  His respect for her shot up another level. “Yes.”

  “I noticed it. I think it’s the same guy who’s been following me for a while now.”

  “The guy in the driver’s side who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us since we pulled up?”

  “Yep.”

  “Want to ask him what he wants?”

  “I’d love to.” She released the strap that held the weapon in her shoulder holster. “I’ve got your back.”

  “And I’ve got yours.”

  Haley exited the vehicle. It had to be the same guy who’d been following her. Didn’t it? She honestly wasn’t sure, as he obviously didn’t feel the need to hide—or run—from her this time. Whoever had been in the car before hadn’t wanted her to approach him. Which made her suspicious that he’d sit still now and let her do so.

  But that was exactly what he was doing. As she and Steven got closer, the man placed both hands on the steering wheel. “Very considerate of him to keep his hands in view, isn’t it?” Steven asked.

  “Very. Guess he doesn’t want us to shoot him.”

  The man had his window down and simply continued to watch them until they drew within speaking distance. “I see yer hands on your weapons,” he said. “I mean you no harm. I’m not even carrying a weapon. Do you mind if I open the door an’ step out?”

  Haley blinked at his heavy Irish brogue. “That’s fine.”

  He did, then leaned against the door, hands away from his sides.

  “Did you need something?” Steven asked.

  “I’ve been looking for Haley Callaghan.”

  Haley relaxed a fraction. “You’ve found her. Who are you?”

  “My name is Duncan O’Brien. I’m a member of the Gardaí in the Republic of Ireland.”

  Her heart skipped a beat, but she simply raised a brow. “Why would a member of the Irish police be looking for me?”

  “Call me Duncan, please.” He glanced around. “Is there someplace else we could talk? Someplace not so open and a wee bit more private?”

  Haley paused, then had to admit she was curious. “There’s an all-night internet café about two blocks from here. Care for a walk?”

  “Grand.” He locked his vehicle and motioned for them to lead the way.

  Haley hesitated and glanced at Steven. “I don’t want to hold you up. You’d better get back to Quinn.”

  Steven frowned. “Quinn will make sure Zeke and his mom are protected, then he can catch a ride with one of the other officers.” He pulled her aside and lowered his voice. “Let me stay with you until we know for sure this dude isn’t up to anything he shouldn’t be.”

  Haley didn’t think he was—however, she couldn’t deny it might be smart to keep Steven with her. Not that she didn’t feel confident in her ability to take care of herself, but for some strange reason, she didn’t want Steven to leave yet. “All right, come on then, both of you.”

  Once inside the café, with their coffees and pastries in front of them, Haley was impatient to get to the point. Fatigue gripped her and she wanted her bed. But curiosity held her rooted to her chair.

  O’Brien sat across from her and Steven next to her. Haley took a sip of her strong black coffee and didn’t care that it burned on the way down. Next, she took a bite of the cinnamon roll and sat back. She waited for O’Brien to look up. “Why have you been following me?”

  “Not me. That was another man I hired to find you. I only arrived here in the States a couple of days ago.”

  “I see. Why?”

  “Does the name Aileen Burke mean anything to you?”

  A shiver raced up her spine. She stared. “I used to dream about that name.” Haley leaned forward. “Why do you ask me about it? How do you know it?”

  Duncan shifted. “’Tis very hard to know how to deliver this kind of news, so I’m just goin’ to spit it out.”

  “Aw, sure look it.” Haley bit her lip. Bring an Irish accent around and she was right back into it as well, the accent and the sayings. “I mean, yes, tell me, please.”

  A faint smile curved his lips, as though pleased at her Irish response. Then he frowned. “When you were five years old, your home was raided in a Mafia hit. Almost your entire fami
ly was wiped out except for your grandparents and your nanny.”

  “Nanny Iona.” The name slipped from her.

  His eyes lightened. “You remember her?”

  She shook her head. Where had that come from? “I don’t know why I said that.” She heard the thickening of her accent as some unknown emotion clogged her throat.

  “Because you’re Aileen Burke and—we believe now—that your Nanny Iona saved you from death somehow and disappeared with you.”

  Haley sat still, her coffee and pastry forgotten. Flashes—memories?—blipped across her mind. Snatches of a time and place with people she didn’t know why she thought about. “Explain, please.”

  He nodded. “I’m with the cold case department in the Republic of Ireland, County Mayo area. I grew up wanting to be a member of the Guard so that I could work cold cases. I finally got to do that. About seven months ago, I started working on yours.”

  “I’m not a cold case. I grew up in Belfast.”

  “Right. I know that now. But originally, you were born in County Mayo, Ireland, and for the first five years of your life, were the princess of the castle Rock Moran.”

  “This is crazy, you realize that, right?” Haley glanced at Steven. He’d remained silent during the entire thing.

  “Do you remember anything about the day the castle was attacked?” Duncan asked. “Where you were? Where your nanny was?”

  Haley shook her head. “I don’t.” But the flashes continued. Nanny holding her tight. No, not Nanny. She wasn’t nanny, she was her mam. Mam held her. “Don’t look, don’t look,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “She told me not to look, but I did.”

  He leaned forward. “What did you see?”

  “My dad, on the floor with a big red stain on his chest.” She looked up and met the guard’s eyes. “I used to have nightmares about it, but that’s all it was, she told me. Just dreams. Bad dreams and I needed to forget them.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Me mam.” The accent she’d worked so hard to get rid of spilled from her lips as naturally as if she’d never stopped using it.

  “Aileen.” She blinked at him and he held up a hand. “Sorry, Haley, your mam died that day in the attack on the castle. If you saw your dad on the floor with a bloodstain on his chest, you had to be there. Are you saying you were? That you remember?”

  She rubbed a hand over her face and drew in a breath. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” Another flash. She was in bed and had a cold cloth on her forehead. “I was sick. I had a fever.”

  “I was sick that day too,” he whispered.

  Haley pressed a hand to her temple. “They were dreams, something I saw on television when I should have been in bed. I’ve long forgotten about them.” She stared at him. “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Your grandfather wants you to come home.”

  [8]

  Haley laughed, a sound that held no humor, and stared at the man. “My grandfather wants me to come home? Hmm. Well, first of all, I’m not convinced he’s truly my grandfather.”

  “And second?”

  “America has been my home for quite a few years now.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve also got a good job that I love, good friends—and kids who depend on me. There is no more Ireland for me.” She didn’t have many good memories of the place. Just hardship, struggle, betrayal.

  And death.

  “What about family?” Duncan asked. “Don’t you want to know your family? Or what’s left of it. You’ve got a few cousins, not first cousins, but still blood relatives.” He paused. “I researched you as I was searching for you, to be sure, but may have missed a few things. I didn’t see that you were married. Do you have family here?”

  “I’m not married. I’ve no family here in America. And I’ve no family in Ireland. Me mam died when I was fifteen.” She fell back into her natural speaking voice. “I lived on the streets and managed to finish high school and then some college.” She heard Steven’s indrawn breath and gave an inward grimace. She didn’t tell people that fact unless she had to.

  “You disappeared from the time you were twenty until the age of twenty-five, when you showed up in Athens, Greece, at the bodyguard academy,” Duncan said. “Where were you for those five years in between?”

  She kept her gaze steady on his. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. His eyes went to the windows, then to the patrons in the restaurant, then back to her. “All right, I won’t push that, but will you please reconsider and come back to County Mayo? Yer grandfather is an old man and gettin’ older by the minute. He wants to see you.”

  “I don’t believe you.” But she almost did.

  “What can I do to convince you?”

  “Nothing. It’s preposterous. What is it you’re really after?”

  Duncan narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and pointed at her. “You were supposed to die that day too, you know.”

  She pursed her lips and glanced at Steven, who’d remained silent and—stoic. Haley turned back to Duncan. “Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?”

  “They blew up yer bus.”

  The words were like a punch to her midsection. “What do you mean? What bus?”

  “There was a field trip that day. Twenty-one children—all the children in our class—were killed, along with six adults. You and I and two others were the only ones who weren’t there. But the attack on the castle and the attack on the bus were the same day, minutes apart. It’s not a coincidence. You and yer family were targets.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small section of newspaper.

  Haley stared at him, sickness rolling in the pit of her belly. “The zoo.” She took the old, yellowed paper from him, and the headline glared back at her. BURKE FAMILY ATTACKED, ELEMENTARY SCHOOL BUS BOMBED. ARE THEY RELATED?

  “The zoo,” he said.

  She barely had time to process the article when he pulled a picture from his breast pocket and passed it to her.

  She stared at it and memories assaulted her. Memories she’d thought were dreams. Like blips in a movie trailer, the images came to her. “The school was red, was it not?”

  “It was.”

  “There was a playground outside the classroom.”

  “We had some good times there.”

  “We were classmates, then?”

  “We were.” He offered her a slight smile that disappeared fast. “Do you understand what I mean by saying you were supposed to die that day?”

  “I think I’m beginning to. I mean, I believe this all happened, I do. I’m just not sure it happened to me. That I’m Aileen Burke.” She shook her head. “I can’t wrap my brain around it.” Even though the memories were starting to tumble over themselves . . . like the sound of a little one crying in the middle of the night. She’d wanted to help him, so she’d crawled into the crib with him and soothed him back to sleep. Then there were the friends from the little red school, racing from one end of the playground to the other.

  But how could it be? Just . . . how? She thought those memories were simply dreams. Figments of an overactive imagination.

  “I know it’s hard,” Duncan said, “but it doesn’t change the facts.”

  She didn’t say anything for several seconds, then narrowed her eyes. “There was a baby . . . a toddler . . .” His sweet grin and green eyes swam in her memory.

  “Yer brother, John. They killed him too.”

  She flinched. So the little one had been her brother. If she were to believe this crazy story. But she couldn’t deny the flashes of memory. Or whatever they were. “How do you know you’ve found the right person?”

  He flushed but didn’t look away from her. “I got yer DNA and had it tested.” At her shock, he held up a hand. “It was simply a water bottle you threw away, I didn’t break into yer house or anything.”

  Haley rubbed a hand over her ponytail. “It’s not even believable.”

  Duncan reach
ed into his bag and pulled out a small photo album. “Yer grandfather gave me this to show you.” He handed it to her.

  She took it and opened it. A young couple stared back at her. “Daddy,” she whispered. “Mam.” She looked at the baby on her mother’s hip. The one she’d heard crying in the night? “John.” Duncan stayed silent, so she flipped the page. And stared at a younger version of herself.

  “That was taken two weeks before the attack.”

  She flipped a few more pages and came across an older man and woman. “Grandparents?”

  “Yer grandmother died a few years ago, but like I said, yer daideo is anxious to see you.”

  “What about my . . . mam’s . . . parents?”

  “They died in a car accident shortly after yer parents were married.”

  Haley rubbed her forehead. “I can’t deny the memories or the fact that the people in the pictures are familiar.” She paused. “All right, say I believe that I’m Aileen Burke. I was supposed to die but didn’t, obviously.”

  “No, you disappeared.”

  “Yes, you mentioned that,” Haley said. “My question is, why? Why the attack on my family, why kill all those children just to get at me?”

  “The motive for the attack was never discerned. At least not a motive that was clear-cut. There was speculation, but nothing ever proven. Everyone at first thought it had to do with yer grandfather’s money.”

  “An understandable thought.”

  “To be sure. His will stipulated that should he die, yer great-uncle Niall and your father would inherit. At the time he made out the will, they were the two who were running the company. Should yer father die before you reached legal age, yer mother inherited along with Niall. Should both of your parents die at the same time, Niall would continue running the company, and you and your brother’s share of the fortune would be held in trust until you reached legal age. Then half would revert to you and half to John when he came of age.”

  “Sounds to me like that gives Niall some serious motive to get rid of my family,” Haley murmured.

  “The Gardaí thought so, too, and did a full investigation, but came up with nothing that pointed to him. No ties to the Mafia, no large sums of money that couldn’t be traced or explained. Nothing. Should the company go to you, he’s still well provided for by yer grandfather. Niall appeared to be devastated at the loss and fully cooperated with the investigation.”