I was vibrating with excitement, looking around but there were no windows in the international arrivals queue. I wanted to see Ireland. I did an internal pout and I'm sure the cartoonish chibi me in my head was doing just that as she crossed her arms over her chest obstinately.
I dragged my little carryon bag along on its wheels by the collapsible handle, while Jane just slung her rucksack she used as a carry on over her shoulder. Calvin carried all of his own supplies for the trip in his little packs on his back like Batman or a secret agent. He made quite a show when we went through TSA back in the States when they had him and I go through that full-body scanner after I acted nervous and shied away from the pat down.
I tried to explain that I just didn't like people touching me. Well, that wasn't entirely true since once I get to know you and accept you into my group of friends or family, I was Huggy McHugsalot. Not many people have made the cut in my life.
Then Calvin wouldn't stop wiggling in excitement at the grand new game of standing behind the screen while people watched on with interest. They finally had me go back to him and calm him down so they could get their dang privacy destroying, invasive scan done.
Apparently, we weren't terrorists. Though they did get a little twitchy at the strongbox with Jane's service weapon in it. She had all the proper paperwork, and had attended the Law Enforcement Officers Flying Armed (LEOFA) program, and had special dispensation from the Irish government to carry her service weapon there.
In order for her to get leave on such short notice, even though she had accumulated over nine months of unused leave, she had agreed to or was blackmailed into agreeing to meet with the Belfast police to liaise with NYPD's counterpart there in Ireland for one day. We were still working out the logistics of how that would work around the supervised and unsupervised socialization sessions with Luce.
Only Jane and the Air Marshal on the plane had the code to open her strongbox, and we wouldn't know who the Air Marshal was. Well except for Jane pointing him out when he stepped out of coach and through first class to speak with an attendant for some inane reason like a pillow.
Ok fine, I would never had known, but Jane pointed out he had a bulge on his ankle, indicating a weapon, and they had locked eyes for a moment, sizing each other up as only predators did. I would have thought he would have been wearing a suit like they always do on the action-adventure movies Jess and Kerry are addicted to. But this man wore loose jeans, steel-toed work boots, and a flattering turtleneck sweater.
I had asked why she couldn't just carry her weapon concealed, and it had to do with the fact it was not a domestic flight, and the authorities would inspect and clear the weapon once we arrived.
Interesting fact... the only part of the United Kingdom where personal protection is accepted as a legitimate reason to obtain and own a firearm, is Northern Ireland. And is the only part of the UK in which handguns are permitted for civilians. Hey don't look at me like that, I like to research when I have questions.
When it was our turn at the customs counter, a pleasantly plump red-headed man who wore a neatly pressed uniform, and wore a shiny badge and nametag reading Sean Walsh, asked almost with no animation in his lilting Irish accent, telling me he likely asked the same questions a gazillion times a day, “Papers please. Are ya here for business or pleasure? And do ya have anythin' ta declare?”
I slid him my passport and said while he looked first at the passport then me and he brightened and straightened up a little as I gave him a silly little curtsey as I held a finger up and then crouched to pull a list out of Calvin's packs. I handed him the list as I rushed out, “Dia duit. Conas atá tú? This is an itemized list of the contents of my carry on bag, Sean. I triple checked and cross-referenced the items on the list of items that need to be declared upon entry. I believe that I have none but printed the list just in case I misinterpreted any of the categories or items.”
The man smiled crookedly at me and asked, “Didja now?” Then he cocked his brow and said to me like I didn't know, “It's laminated.”
I nodded in earnest and pointed at the top. “And labeled.”
Jane said from behind me, “Fin, I don't think he cares about the list, he's just looking for a simple...”
He held up a hand to her to stop her as he said, “No, not at all. If'n she went through all the trouble ta make a list, it'd only be polite ta indulge her.”
Then he placed an elbow on his counter, propped his chin on a hand, then perused the list as I gave Jane a 'so there' look as he asked, “An bhfuil Gaeilge agat?”
I nodded and informed him, “Tá. Just a little. I studied for hours the common phrases and enunciation and pronunciation.”
He smiled as he handed the list back to me and then said, “It looks like ya certainly did yer research, and a fine job ya did.”
I beamed at him as I swung side to side, my skirt on my dress flaring a little. Then I blurted, “Oh. And our visit is for pleasure, we may be adopting the cutest little girl.”
He smiled and said, “Ah, do tell. It's a fine reason ta be visitin' our beautiful country here.”
Then he looked over the counter and asked, “An' what about this handsome bloke?”
Oh! I squeaked and placed the list he handed back to me in the pack and pulled out Cal's paperwork. “I registered ahead, he should be in your system, and just in case of a computer error, here are the hardcopy forms as well as copies of all of his vaccination records.”
He looked amused but was such an engaging fellow. The people behind us in line were grumbling and some were moving to one of the other two queues. He read the papers and typed something in on his computer and asked, “Sir Calvin Cornelius Fluffytoes? Now, why does that name ring a bell?”
Then he snapped his fingers and said as he stamped my passport and then Cal's papers. “Finnegan May an' her wonder dog! I thought I recognized yer name! You two brought half o' New York City ta its knees. Somethin' about catchin' a murderer.”
I blinked in shock. He knew who I was?
He shared, “It was all over the news. The girl an' her dog who brought one o' the biggest cities in tha world ta a standstill. Thousands of dog walkers and dogs blockin' all tha exits from tha city.”
I blushed and started smoothing down my skirt then shoved the mass of my lightly curling locks over my shoulder.
He said as he shook his head, “Wait till I tell my wife I met ya. She'll flip.”
Then he said, “Welcome ta Ireland Mrs. McLeary-May, and go n-éiri an bóthár leat!”
I beamed at him and did another silly curtsey and said, “Finnegan, and go raibh maith agat,” then added the blessing, “Sláinte is táinte Mr. Walsh!”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he asked, “Ya say ya studied just a couple hours?”
I blushed and shrugged.
Then the man turned back to his job and his tone got cool as he looked at Jane and said, “Next.”
She shook her head at me incredulously, and I shrugged and grinned. Then he asked the same of her and she sighed, handing over her passport, her badge, and her strongbox including the entry paperwork for it. He cocked an eyebrow and put a sign up on the counter saying to use the other queues, “Please come with me. The inspectors will be wantin' ta clear ya.”
I sighed. She had said this was likely since she was bringing a firearm in. So I was supposed to go out and wait on the Northern Ireland side of the territory line for her. I exhaled a long sigh and said, “Come on Cal, adventure awaits.”
We looked at the line painted on the floor that indicated we were stepping onto Irish soil and I was feeling silly so I hopped over it. Calvin dashed with me, his tail swishing a mile a minute. We found a bench to sit in the busy airport to wait for my errant wife who said she'd feel naked without her sidearm if she was going to represent the NYPD here.
And we waited, and we waited, and I turned on my cell while we continued to wait. It almost immediately started buzzing the moment I powered it up. I glanced at the screen an
d drew attention to myself when I actually squeed as I saw Luce's name blazing away on it.
I quickly answered the FaceTime request. A pensive looking Luce was on the other end and I could see the counselor of Sydenham Home for Girls, Mrs. Doyle, hovering in the doorway behind her trying to act aloof. Before I could say anything, Luce blurted, “Finnegan, it's you.” She crowded the camera and whispered almost in a plea, “I thought you had changed your mind, your flight should have landed twenty-two and a half minutes ago, I didn't hear from you so I called twice.”
I had to smile at her as her panic and how her awkwardness in the call seemed somehow familiar to me. I shared with all the confidence I had in me, “Of course we didn't change our minds, silly goose. We had our phones off for the landing and I just got through customs.”
I heard murmuring behind her, and she pulled back away from the camera and looked over her shoulder. “I know you told me that you langer, and shouldn't ya be at least pretendin' ta give us some privacy you old...”
I snapped out, “Luce!” Just as Mrs. Doyle chastised, “Keep a civil tongue, Miss O'Conner.”
Luce winced and then crowded the camera again and whispered, “Sorry,” before she pulled back and asked, “Is Sir Calvin with you?”
I nodded and tilted the camera toward him then said, “Just a sec.” Then I activated the front camera as well so she could see all I could see at the airport.
Then she started wringing her hands as her eyes darted around and she said, “I don't see Jane. Did she not...”
I assured her, “She's here, we're just waiting for customs to do some additional screening.”
She nodded sagely, guessing the reason. “I told her she didn't need to bring her gun. It would only be sensible to leave it behind as it would just likely cause delays.”
I nodded. “I told her the same but...”
Leaving it hanging she nodded too and supplied, “She's Jane. A police hero.” She said the last part with a deference that warmed my heart. She saw Jane as larger than life.
Almost as if on cue, a door opened by Customs and Jane stepped out, shaking the hand of a uniformed police officer with Garda emblazoned on his windbreaker. I sighed because I could see the telltale bulge of her shoulder holster under the loose white blouse she wore over her tight black tee as she slung her pack back over her shoulder and scanned the crowd.
Her eyes lit up in a way that warmed my heart when she saw me and she hustled over as I held the phone up for her to see. She asked as she reached me, “Is that Luce?”
I turned the cell so she could see, and she waved. “Hey, lady.”
Luce answered prim and proper, “Good morning, Jane.”
I handed her the cell to talk to Luce as she nudged her head down the concourse toward the baggage return, and we started our way on the most exciting journey of our lives.
Chapter 3 – Settling In
After Jane fished her single small suitcase and my multitude of large suitcases off the carousel, we hopped on a shuttle to our hotel at the curb. The whole time we spoke with the quirky Irish girl who was rapidly stealing our hearts.
We had to say our goodbyes as we stood outside the elegant old structure of the Belfast Royale Hotel as a bellhop came rushing out with a luggage cart. Luce said, “I'll see you at eleven? I have drawn up an itinerary for the visit.” She leaned in close and whispered as she gave Mrs. Doyle, who was hovering behind her, the stink eye, causing the woman to roll her eyes at the girl, “Are you really coming?”
Jane sighed and I said, “Of course we're coming, sweetie. We'll be there before you know it.”
She nodded at us then held up a schedule with a bulleted list, pointing at the top, where she had a dog icon and said, “Not before eleven, I have to organize the mop closet at ten.”
Mrs. Doyle started to offer, “Miss O'Conner, how many times do we have to tell you that you don't need...”
Luce blurted, “If I don't who will? I swear you invite chaos into the...”
I said patiently, “Luce...”
She crowded the camera and said, “Sorry.” Then she pulled back and said, “Goodbye Finnegan, Jane, Sir Calvin.”
Jane said, “See you soon.”
Then we hung up. Why was my heart beating so fast? I couldn't wait for eleven o'clock to roll around.
Then we turned to the tall and gangly bellhop and smiled as he greeted us and started loading up the cart, “Good morning ladies, welcome to the Belfast Royale.”
I inclined my head as I gave him a smile as I looked at his name tag on his crisply pressed uniform. “It is a good morning, isn't it, Rory?”
He beamed at us. I know how it can sometimes feel like people in the hospitality and service industries can seem invisible at times, just the background noise of a city. As a dog walker, I am intimately familiar with it, so I try to go out of my way to acknowledge and befriend these ubiquitous people, these kindred spirits. It is amazing what a doorman, elevator operator, newsstand owner, and even bellhops overhear when people speak freely around them, paying them as much mind as furniture.
The doorman tipped his cap and opened to door for us as Rory followed, the corner of Jane's lip quirked as I said while looking at his name tag as well, “Good morning, Adam, what's the craic?”
He touched the brim of his cap again and smiled widely as he said, “Mornin' to ya, ladies. There's a storm brewin' so its best ta be inside tonight.”
Rory sped in front of us to the check-in desk as Jane shook her head at me, amusement twinkling in her eyes. I whined, “What? It's respectful to learn the customs of the places you visit. It shows respect for...”
She pulled me to her and kissed the top of my head. “Oh lord, don't break out the Suzy Homemaker book on me. I think the extra effort you put in to put people at ease is sort of endearing. I just wonder where it was the first time we met, you were positively combative.”
I growled but with a sly grin on my face. “You arrested me and accused me of murder, jerk.”
Her chuckle was smooth and dipped in honey as she countered, “You weren't under arrest and I was just asking a few questions.”
“In an interrogation room.”
She snorted. “I guess there was that.”
We both stopped our banter when we realized we were standing in front of the concierge, she and Rory were blinking at our conversation. I absently said as I pushed my hair back over my shoulder self consciously, “She made up for arresting me by marrying me.”
Ok, now my smile threatened to split my face when Jane exploded into a quick burst of surprised laughter. The hotel workers both looked more surprised at the fact we were married than the fact my aggravating spouse had arrested me. Rory blinking and the woman cocking her eyebrow as she reappraised us appreciatively.
I was getting better at determining who played on the sapphic side of the fence, Kerry, and Jess, our roommates and best friends back home, call it gaydar. They also mock me for not being able to see what they say is obvious. And they say I'm firmly on the pansexual side of the sexuality spectrum. Hey, I know what sexy is and it isn't dependent on gender.
It took me a long while to figure that out about myself, but it all came into clear focus when I couldn't deny that I was undeniably attracted to Jane after I had just assumed I was straight my whole life. It took that little nudge for me to look at how I have interacted with people my entire life.
I love to flirt because it makes people feel good about themselves, but what I had reasoned was being friendly to women was no different than the way I flirted with men. It is sort of disconcerting when you learn something about yourself and coming to terms with it. I actually feel like a weight I hadn't known I was carrying had been lifted off of me, and I can finally be me.
Speaking of, the concierge was only a year or two older than Jane and was an auburn haired cutie. I blinked at her name tag then over to Rory and back. I must have looked like a loon as I gave her a toothy grin and said in amusement, “Good morning Rory.�
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She sighed and said in good humor, her accent heavier than the other two workers, “It's a source of endless teasin' from the staff. They've taken ta callin' us tha Rorys.” Then she straightened up, her mischievous grin never fading. “And how can we be helpin' ya here at the Belfast Royale? Checkin' in?”
Jane supplied, “McLeary-May.”
With a cocked eyebrow, Rory asked as she typed, “Americans?”
In a rare display of humor, her normally terse and rigid demeanor to people she didn't let into her inner circle of friends and family, Jane said, “If that's a good thing, then yes, otherwise Canadian.”
This got a double snort from the Rorys as the concierge confided in her, “We've no problems with American's here, just that ya have a very Irish name.”
Jane nudged her chin toward me and chuckled. “Grandfather was Irish and this one's name is Finnegan.” This got a cocked eyebrow as I ground my heel into the floor as I smoothed out my skirt.
Rory inclined her head and said, “Then welcome to tha homeland.” She looked over the counter to see Calvin, whose tail hadn't stopped wagging since we arrived. “An' who's tha cutie?”
I beamed at her. “This is Calvin...” I screwed up my face and added, “He's not Irish either,” causing the woman to chuckle. She winked down at my boy.
She slid two card keys and an information packet to us as she looked at Rory Two. “Room 202.” The bellhop went into motion, heading for the elevators as our host told us, “Second floor, directly across from the lift bank. Is there anythin' else I can be helpin' ya with?”
We started to move and then I stopped and blurted, “Actually, we're meeting with an eleven-year-old girl later, I'd hate to show up empty-handed. Is there anyplace nearby to pick something up? By all that's fluffy and good in the world, what do tweens like?”
In my sudden self-doubt, I reached out and started sorting and straightening the various pamphlets and fliers on the counter. Rory One studied me a moment, her brows pinched as I made sure the literature was lined up perfectly with the edge of the counter.
Unleashed- Case of the Hound About Town Page 2
