by Jayne Blue
“Con artist?” I said.
“I don’t know. I mean ... it’s none of my business what she’s told you. And I don’t know if I believe in guilt by association. But being who you are and it wasn’t like any of this was all that hard to piece together. I mean, it was ... a little ... but.”
“Crane!”
The hell with it. I grabbed the orange file and flipped it open. I expected to see Lila’s mug shot or rap sheet. But the contents of that file were nothing like that at all.
“Like I said, she is Lila Kelly. To be honest, that’s what surprises me most,” Crane said. “I mean, if she didn’t want people to find out, why keep the name?”
I snapped the file shut and sat back. “Lay it out for me.”
Crane looked over his shoulder. I knew he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Her daddy was Thomas Kelly. He ran a crime syndicate in Ireland. Gun running mostly. About twenty years ago, he tried to get a foothold here on the east coast. Joint task force between the A.T.F., Interpol and the F.B.I. finally brought him down. He was extradited back to Dublin fifteen years ago.”
Things Lila said slammed into place. She said her father came back into her life for a while and then he was gone. Fifteen years ago, she would have only been thirteen years old. She said her mother died two years after that.
“Thomas Kelly,” I repeated. “This wasn’t my background. A guy like that wasn’t on my radar back then. I trained for missions in the Middle East.”
“Right,” Crane said. “If you wanna take time to read some of it, there’s a couple of articles I found online on some tabloid sites. Thomas Kelly’s wife never lived here in the states. She’s back in Ireland. Catholic and all, you know. You don’t see her in any pictures on the courthouse steps. There’s another woman. I think she was his mistress here. Deanna Lawrence.”
“She was a dancer,” I said, filling in the blanks. I looked at the woman in the old newspaper photo. She looked enough like Lila to squeeze my heart. “Showgirl. She died when Lila was just fifteen.”
“Sure,” Crane said. “That must have been tough. The Kellys, though. I mean, her old man was a bad dude. Is a bad dude. I wasn’t able to figure out what happened to him once he got deported. He served time over there. But he may be out now. I don’t know. He’s got a son though. Thomas, Jr.”
Lila never once mentioned having a brother. But my blood ran cold. I read her lips the other night. She’d been talking to someone she called Tommy.
“Rumor is, Thomas Jr. is trying to run the family biz stateside while his old man is away. I’ve got some feelers out but I figured your contacts with the feds are stronger than mine. I mean, have you seen him around town?”
I couldn’t form words to answer. Crane knew me well enough to read my expression though. I’d bet my left nut those meatheads at Lila’s counter were Thomas Kelly Jr.’s men. What in the hell could they want here in Crystal Falls?
“Thanks,” I said. “I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Right. And look, none of this necessarily means anything. So Lila’s got some shitheels in her family tree. I mean, who doesn’t?”
I raised a brow and leveled a hard stare at Crane. He grew sheepish and sank into his chair. “Boss, I’m sorry. But there’s one more thing. This Thomas Sr.? He was a bad dude and all, but I think his father was even worse. His name was Rory Kelly. He was a prominent member of the IRA during the sixties, it sounds like. He was a terrorist, Beckett. They tagged him for over a dozen murders. He was executed for one of them. He killed some diplomat.”
I flipped the file shut. My head spun. Lila was the daughter of an Irish mobster. Her brother was knee deep in the family business. His men had been crawling all over Crystal Falls.
“Beckett, I know it’s not my business but …”
“The hell it’s not. Crystal Falls is your business.”
“I’m just sorry. Like I said, just cuz her family is one way, doesn’t mean she’s a part of it.”
Except I knew Crane didn’t believe that. A hollow space formed in my heart. Deep down, I knew I didn’t believe that either.
Chapter Fifteen
Lila
Damon sat hunched over the little desk I kept in the storage room behind the kitchen. He pored over my spreadsheets and had Joe, his associate, go through the zippered pouch I kept for bank deposits. Every second the two of them were here brought me closer to the edge of panic. Beckett ... anyone could walk in at any time. It was almost midnight and I’d already blown off two of Beckett’s texts. He wanted to see me tonight. I swore Tommy must have caught wind of it and made Damon and Joe stay here just to make it harder on me.
“You done?” I asked. I’d been pacing near the oven, chewing on my thumbnail.
Damon sat back. “You’re going to need to step up your game, Lila. You want a seat at your brother’s table, you’re going to have to get a little more creative with your receipts.”
“I don’t want anything to do with Tommy or his table.”
Damon pushed the chair back, stood, then came toward me. The glint in his eye enraged me. Joe handed him the bank pouch.
“This will do for today, but only because I’m in a good mood.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come off it, Damon. Or what? Huh? You’re not stupid. You know the only reason Tommy’s even bothering with this place is so he can poke at me. This is a coffee shop! I’m never going to do the kind of numbers on a cash basis that he needs. I’m surprised you’re not more angry he’s wasting your time with it. Did you do something to piss him off? You must have.”
The slight falter in his step told me I’d hit on something. Of course, it made sense. This was scut work my brother had him on. Maybe it meant Tommy just wanted Damon out of the way.
“Shut your mouth,” Damon said, his face turning red. Little alarm bells went off inside of me. A vein popped in his temple. Oh boy, I’d hit a nerve for sure. He reached for the bank pouch from Joe. Damon unzipped it and took all the bills out of it. It was everything I’d made in cash for the week. Damon picked up the black messenger bag he’d brought and stuffed the money into it.
“You can’t take that,” I said. “That’s not part of our arrangement. You’re not here for my cash on hand.”
“I’m here for whatever I see fit,” he said. “You didn’t think Tommy was going to let you go into business for yourself, did you? You pay up the chain. Everyone does.”
“I’m not in the damn chain, you asshole.”
Damon took two long strides and grabbed me by the arm. “Watch your manners, Lila.”
“Watch your hands.” I jerked away from him. “You forgetting who I am? Huh? Or maybe you’re just forgetting who my father is.”
Damon’s eyes went wide. He knew I was right. There was no way Tommy gave him orders to lay a hand on me. At least, not yet. I saw the irony in that. I’d spent the last fifteen years trying to distance myself from my father. Here I was invoking his name as a shield.
“You’re the one who’s forgotten,” Damon said. “Just keep doing what you’re told. I’ll be back next week.”
“Get out,” I said, fuming. Every bit of this was a violation. Worse yet, Damon was taking wild chances with my bookkeeping. I just had to pray no one would notice.
Joe joined Damon and the two of them headed for the front door through the kitchen.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted. “Someone might see you.”
“That’s your problem,” Damon answered over his shoulder. Then the two of them walked out, right on Main Street. I just hoped it was late enough no one else would be out there. Beckett no longer had a patrol car camped out in front of Garnett’s.
No sooner had Damon and Joe left than my phone rang again. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath. God. What if Beckett had shown up here? How in the hell would I explain Damon and Joe?
This whole thing was a mess. I was trying to protect Beckett and the rest of the people I cared about in Crystal Falls. I knew one thing
with perfect certainty. Tommy was serious about hurting them if I didn’t do what he asked. It would blow over. It had to. Sooner or later, he’d realize Lila’s Cakes and Coffee and Crystal Falls wasn’t worth the manpower he was spending. He’d get bored trying to manipulate me. I just had to bide my time until then.
“Hey, baby,” I said, putting on a smile so my tone lightened.
“I was starting to get worried about you,” Beckett said. His voice skimmed over me, warming me. I just wanted to sink into his arms and forget Damon, my brother, and all the baggage weighing me down.
“I’m sorry. I got bogged down in monthly receipts. I’m trying to figure out a way to get Arlene back.”
“Hmm. Business picking up again?” There was something off about his tone. He seemed distracted.
“It was steady today. I’m surprised I didn’t see you. Everything okay on your end?”
“Yeah.”
The thread of our conversation just ended there. I could hear his steady breathing on the other end, but something was most definitely wrong. Or I was getting jumpy and looking for things that weren’t there.
“Beckett? Are you okay? Have you been drinking?”
He let out a short laugh. “No. I probably should be. Look, I’ve got some stuff to take care of tomorrow. After that, I want to see you. What time are you going to leave the shop?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I reminded him. “It’s my baking day. I should be finished up here by noon. One o’clock at the latest. Do you want to meet somewhere? Or I could just come over when I’m done?”
“I’ll find you,” he said, his tone a little ominous. I shook my head as if I could physically clear the bad vibe I was getting. It was silly. This was Damon. No. It was Tommy getting inside my head just like he wanted.
“That shouldn’t be hard. I missed you today.” I blurted the last bit out, but felt it deeply. Beckett felt like the only thing good and normal in my life. I would not let my brother get in the way of that. I couldn’t. Not now. Not this time. Somehow, some way, I’d have to figure out a way to get free of him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lila,” Beckett said. There was a hesitation in his voice, as if he meant to say something else but stopped himself. I hadn’t known him long. I couldn’t pretend to know all of his moods and inner secrets. More than anything, I was probably projecting my own stuff on him. Everything was fine. He wanted to see me.
The urge to tell him something more bubbled up inside of me. It was a knee-jerk reaction, probably born out of fear or insecurity. I wanted to tell him I loved him. Instead, I just said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Beckett clicked off first. I held the phone to my ear for a few seconds more. Walking out of the kitchen, I moved into the dining room. The street lamps cast jagged shadows over the countertops. The street was quiet and dark, but two blocks down, a black Mercedes sat with its lights off.
Tommy’s men. It seemed Damon and Joe weren’t enough. He still had someone watching me, just like he promised.
* * *
I wasn’t myself at all through the morning. I kept waiting for Tommy to call or one of his men to show up. The black Mercedes moved off as soon as the sun came up. I busied myself as best I could making scones and trying out a new lemon tart recipe I’d come up with. It took three batches to get it right, but once I did, I knew I had the makings of a bestseller on my hands. If I could just get the people of Crystal Falls back in the door.
My phone stayed quiet except for Arlene. I hated the disappointment in her voice when I told her I couldn’t afford to bring her back yet. If Damon took another week of cash from me, I’d be lucky to be able to keep Addy on. I added that to my list of things to iron out with Tommy the next time he called.
I lost track of time as I took the final batch of tarts out of the oven and spread them out on a tray for the display case. The front bell chimed and my heart stopped. It started beating again when I turned to find Beckett standing at the counter.
“Hey!” I said, breathless. “I thought you were going to call. I’m a mess!”
I was. My hair flew wild where it had come out of the loose bun. My apron was covered with lemon glaze and I probably had enough flour in my hair and on my face to look like a ghost.
Beckett wore plain clothes, a white t-shirt and jeans. The muscles of his biceps rippled as he twisted a cowboy hat in his hands.
“Really?” I smiled. “I didn’t think real Texans wore those things.”
He didn’t smile back. If anything, he looked downright grim. “Sometimes I go up to the big house and help the rancher next to my property. Keeps the sun out of my eyes.”
I opened the partition in the counter and went to him. “Odd jobs? Budget cuts in the sheriff’s department?”
He put the hat on the counter. It was camel-colored and worn, its brim curling up at the sides. I had the urge to pick it up and put it on. It would have Beckett’s scent, clean and warm. I went to him, sliding my hands up his chest. God. He felt so good. Hard and strong, his pecs and abs chiseled out of marble.
He had worked hard today. Dirt caked his brow and he’d been sweating. It made him sexier somehow.
“We’re a pair,” I said. “Looks like we both need a shower.”
Heat slammed into me. My sex pulsed with need as I went up on my tiptoes. I wanted to lose myself in this man. He was good. Honest. Heroic, even.
“I have to ask you some things,” he said, gently pulling my arms away from his neck. My heart thundered in my breasts.
No. Not yet.
“Beckett?”
“Sit down,” he said.
I moved in slow motion, like a zombie. I knew what this was. I’d feared it since the day Tommy showed up at my shop. It had happened so many times before. People always found out. I never tried to hide it.
“You know,” I said, swallowing past a lump in my throat. “Don’t you?”
“There’ve been a lot of questions about you,” he said. “Ones I couldn’t answer.”
“So why didn’t you ask me?” I said, trying to find a smile. I smoothed the hair from my eyes.
“I’m not great at this,” he said. To his credit, he looked pained. “And I don’t want to make assumptions. Other people have.”
“But you know me. Right?”
“Lila, just let me get this out. Your brother …”
It was as if a door slammed on my heart. I knew this song. I’d played it a million times. The hard look in Beckett’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. He’d already drawn his own conclusions. What could I tell him?
“My brother is Tommy Kelly,” I said. “And he’s only my half brother.” I don’t know why I added that. It only mattered to me.
“And your father was Tommy Kelly, Sr.”
“Is,” I said. “Despite repeated attempts to remedy it, my father is still very much alive.”
“Right. I just want the truth,” Beckett said. “I’m not judging you for who you’re related to.”
Of course he was. It had already deadened something in him as he looked at me. No. God. My heart shattered. Once again, my brother had won by turning someone I cared about against me. He would always win until Tommy Kelly was the only one left in my life.
What’s worse, I knew every worry Beckett had was true. The only hope I had of hanging onto him would be to lie right to his face.
Chapter Sixteen
Beckett
I became two people. My head and my heart. My head was Beckett Finch, Petty Officer First Class, Deputy Sheriff. The woman in front of me wasn’t my enemy, but she was hiding something. Every instinct in me told me it was something that could hurt the people of this town.
My heart squeezed with pain as I looked into Lila’s eyes. Hers had gone cold, methodical. It occurred to me something similar was maybe happening to her heart. Was it only that I’d finally caught her in a lie? Would she try to parcel that out? She hadn’t really lied to me. She’d only kept her past a secret.
Tomm
y Kelly had been to Crystal Falls. I hadn’t seen him with my own eyes, but every plate we ran came back to someone connected to his organization. They’d been here just after Lila came to town. They were here the day after Garnett’s store got trashed. Of course nothing had been taken. That hadn’t been the point. They had only done it to prove they could.
“Tommy Kelly didn’t raise me,” Lila said. “Before I was twelve, I’d only seen him three times. She kept him away. My mother. She was a scandal to him. I was a scandal. He was married. Saint Margaret Kelly of County Dublin was his wife. Did you know she once tried to have my mother killed? A car bomb. It went off too soon. She could have killed me too. My mother drove me to school in that car.”
Her tone was flat, emotionless. It was as if she were describing something that had happened to someone else.
“What happened after you were twelve?” I asked.
Lila’s eyes flicked to mine. “I think he knew the feds were closing in on him. He couldn’t stay in Boston anymore. He tried to get my mother to go with him back to Ireland. I found out later he had something set up for her. She never would have had to work another day in her life. She wouldn’t go. She knew. She wanted something different for me. I think she had mad love for my Da, but things changed after I was born. She was afraid of who he was.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “From what you’re telling me, she should have been more afraid of Saint Margaret.”
“Tommy ... he’s her son. He didn’t even really take an interest in me or acknowledge me until after my mom died. I was fifteen and he showed up at her funeral. Can you believe that? Waltzed right in surrounded by a bunch of our father’s men. His hit squad. He came to represent my father. That’s what he told me anyway. Da can never set foot on American soil again.”
“Where is he now?” I asked.
“My father? Back in Dublin. Prison, I think. He stopped sending letters a while ago.”
