Part 14 (1/2)
”She doesn't like your family.”
”Believe me, she's made that perfectly clear. She thinks we're some kind of Irish version of the Mafia, who travel from hit to hit in Gypsy wagons and tell fortunes on the side.”
”She says your uncle Pat-”
”Oh, come on!” Declan's groan was overdramatic. ”You don't actually believe that kind of nonsense, do you?”
”I'm new in town. I don't know what to believe.”
”Then believe me when I tell you not to believe everything you hear.”
”Even everything I hear from you?”
He had the good grace to smile and keep on sweeping.
When he was done with that particular mound of gunk, I scooped, tapped, and tied the bag, and when I was done, I realized he was watching me carefully. ”What?”
”I didn't expect you to be the type who'd get down and dirty.”
”I didn't expect you to try and bribe me with pastrami.”
”Because I bought you dinner? You think it was a bribe?”
Could I still smile now that my shoulders ached and the stench of garbage had settled into my pores? I tried. ”I think you want to find out what I know so you can help your cousin get out of trouble.”
”What's wrong with that? It's my job. He's my client.”
”And you never mentioned it.” He opened his mouth but I beat him to the line. ”Because I never asked.”
”Exactly.” He started in on the last of the sc.r.a.ps, sweeping across the parking lot and closer to where I waited, bag in hand. ”What we really need to figure out was what Jack was doing here,” he said once he'd closed in.
I couldn't agree more, but I didn't bother to mention it. If we did find out why the Lance of Justice had been hanging around and that discovery somehow led back to Sophie . . .
I swallowed the sudden panic that filled my throat.
”Maybe it would help if you let me talk to your cousin.”
He stopped midsweep. ”Why?”
”Why not? He might be able to tell us something that will help.”
He gave the broom two quick pokes forward. ”He says he doesn't know anything about the murder and I believe him.”
”Come on!” I threw my hands in the air. ”I'm the one who figured out that Owen couldn't have come upstairs from the bas.e.m.e.nt. The least you can do is let me talk to the kid.”
”Just to satisfy your curiosity about who killed Jack Lancer.”
”Absolutely.” I didn't bother to add that whatever Owen had to say, there was an off-chance that it might also shed light on what Sophie was up to and what she was trying to hide.
I wasn't exactly lying, just telling a half-truth.
But I wasn't about to take chances.
Under the folds of the black garbage bag, my fingers were crossed.
Chapter 12.
Since it was a little early in the morning for a motorcycle ride and in lizard-patterned leggings and a silk chiffon henley, I wasn't dressed for it anyway, I drove. On the way across town Declan explained that because Owen was from out of town, he needed someone to vouch for him while he was awaiting a hearing on breaking and entering charges. No one-and Declan emphasized this point-was more well respected in these parts than his parents, Malachi and Ellen Fury, so Owen was staying with them.
After what Carrie at the art gallery told me, I was expecting brightly painted Gypsy wagons and a booth out front where various and sundry Fury and Sheedy relations told fortunes. What I found instead was a tasteful blue colonial with understated cream trim. The lawn was neat and as green as the shamrocks that decorated the mugs over at the Irish store, and tulips in every color of the rainbow lined the walk to the front door.
”Party tomorrow,” Declan said when he saw that I was checking out the three cars parked in the driveway and the people-women, men, and children-who scurried from those cars to the front door and back again, their arms filled with serving bowls and chafing dishes, loaves of bread and fifty-pound bags of potatoes. ”My niece Caitlin is making her first holy communion.”
”You have siblings.” I don't know why it surprised me; Declan had talked about the importance of family in his life.
”Four brothers, two sisters, eleven nieces and nephews. So far.” He flashed a smile and pushed open the car door. ”My parents would like more grandchildren than that. Come on. You are about to meet some of them.”
I did.
Rusty-haired James-whom everyone called Seamus-was older than Declan and married to a woman named Kate, who was in the kitchen and elbow-deep in peeling potatoes.
Broad-shouldered Aiden was closest in age to Declan and looked the most like him. It was his little girl who was being honored the next day. He was busy wrapping knives and forks in napkins and he told me his wife, Fiona, would be by later after she got off work.
Sisters Bridget and Claire weren't there, either, because both were RNs and both were at work at the hospital in Youngstown that morning. Truth be told, I was grateful. By the time I'd also met brother Brian and his wife, Nora, and heard about the oldest in the family, Riordan, who was in the air force and stationed in South Korea, my head was in a spin.
It was a wonder I was coherent by the time a woman of sixty or so stepped out of the family room. Ellen Fury was pet.i.te and once upon a time, she must have had the same flaming red hair I saw on any number of her grandchildren. These days, the color was faded to that of a well-thumbed penny, but no less spectacular against her porcelain skin. She had small, fine features and bright eyes the same shade as the blue T-s.h.i.+rt she wore with jeans. She also had a generous smile. Big points for her: it didn't wilt around the edges-at least not too much-when she realized her youngest had brought an unfamiliar woman into the house.
Ellen shook my hand and offered a smile at the same time she slid a look at her son. ”Declan didn't tell me he had a new friend.”
I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond to this so I left it up to Declan to handle his mother.
”She's not exactly a friend,” he said as if he were sharing a confidence, but loud enough so everyone was sure to hear. ”She's more like a new neighbor over in Traintown. And she's poking her nose into the murder.”
”You mean the Lance of Justice?” Kate set down her potato peeler long enough to squeal with delight. ”It's all anybody can talk about.”
”And Laurel”-Declan made a ta-da sort of gesture in my direction-”she found the body.”
This caused a flurry of excitement. Before I knew it, Ellen grabbed my left hand, Kate grabbed my right, and with the rest of the crowd following, they dragged me into the dining room, where they deposited me in a chair and gathered around.
”The kettle's about to boil,” Ellen told Declan, and settled herself. ”You can make us tea while Laurel tells us more.”
”There's really not much to tell,” I a.s.sured her. ”I don't know much of anything besides what you've heard on the news already.”
”They say it was a mob hit.” Kate was breathless.
”Because of something the Lance of Justice was investigating,” Nora added.