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Authors: Heather Graham

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It shouldn't now, with danger seemingly everywhere, but it did.

A few minutes later—armed with eggs and toast and the largest cup of coffee available—she joined Julie in a booth. She nodded curiously at the three to-go cups of coffee sitting in the center of the table.

“I thought the guys might want coffee when we go back upstairs,” Julie said. “But right now I want to know everything. How did it happen? And when? Do your brothers know? Was it like a fantasy? Did he drive you home, then sweep you up the stairs? Or were you at his apartment?” Julie giggled. “It wasn't on a table in the storeroom like in
The Postman Always Rings Twice
, that old movie we just watched on Netflix, was it?”

“Julie! I never said that I was sleeping with him,” Kieran protested.

“But you are—whether you said it or not. Now that we have an in with the FBI, maybe he can arrest Gary.”

“Julie, Gary has to do something that warrants an arrest,” Kieran said.

“He's done plenty to warrant an arrest,” Julie said. “Think about my poor dogs.”

“And when he was abusing the dogs,
you
should have called the police,” Kieran said.

Julie waved a hand in the air. “They wouldn't have done anything. They'd have told me to call animal control, and animal control might have tried to take Benji and Sally away from me. I couldn't take that chance.”

“I'm afraid someone can't be arrested just for being a jerk,” Kieran said.

Julie's hands were wrapped around her coffee cup, as if for comfort, and she was staring down at the dark surface. “No,” she agreed softly, then looked up. “But, Kieran, I like him. I like your guy. He was so nice to me at the pub the other night.” She giggled. “A harem! Gary thinks Craig has all of us. That's too funny. He's actually jealous, even while he's bringing his bleached blonde bimbo into our apartment and sleeping with her in my bed.”

“It
is
your bed. Get it back.”

Julie shook her head. “I don't want it back. Ever. I'd always think of it as filthy.” She sighed. “Look at me. I'm a horrible person, teasing you and moaning about Gary when Bobby is still in the hospital.”

“I think Bobby is going to make it. I really do,” Kieran said. “Think we should get back up there? The guys probably prefer their coffee hot.”

Julie nodded, and they headed out.

* * *

Back upstairs, they discovered the hall had become a busy place in their absence. A new and different doctor was there and entered the room as they approached. The officer on duty was alert in his chair, and Declan and Danny were leaning against the wall, waiting for their chance to see Bobby. Inside the room, Craig and Mike had been joined by an older man who appeared to wear years of trial and weariness on his face, and the three of them were talking with Bobby, who was back in his bed.

“What a good sister,” Danny said, helping himself to one of the cups of coffee Kieran carried.

“Nice of you,” Declan said, taking one from Julie. “And one for Officer Hunt here. Thanks.”

Kieran looked at Julie, who shrugged.

“I'll head back down for more,” Julie said. “You know, for the guys in the room who are actually working,” she added lightly, then headed back toward the elevator.

Declan turned to Kieran and said, “Bobby's last scan came out really well. Lots of medical jargon that I didn't understand, but the upshot is that he's out of the danger zone. He'll be moved to a different room this afternoon and kept another day or so, and then he can leave.”

Officer Hunt smiled at her. “I'm not surprised you've stayed with your friend. ‘Any decent person would lend a hand,' right?”

Kieran smiled weakly. It wasn't that it was a bad motto. She just hadn't really wanted to be a creator of mottoes.

Or recognized so easily by strangers.

Especially men in hoodies.

Bobby, she reminded herself, had not been attacked by a man in a hoodie. But even Bobby seemed to believe that he'd been attacked by someone who'd been in Finnegan's.

“We're
all
still worried about him,” Danny explained. “Who knows whether this is over or not.”

Kieran felt a knot forming in her stomach. So much for the eggs. She met her brothers' eyes. “You think someone was really after Bobby? That it wasn't a random attack?” She spoke in a normal tone, seeing as Danny had already included the officer in their conversation.

“Who knows what happened?” Declan said.

As he spoke, the door to Bobby's room opened, and the doctor left. Mike and Craig joined them in the hall, followed by Detective Mayo.

Introductions were made, and then Declan asked, “Was Bobby able to help you at all?”

“Well, if tall, dark and wearing a vampire cape helps, yes,” Mike said.

“There was more than one person in on the attack,” Craig said.

“Coffee!” Julie announced, joining them and handing around the cups.

“I've seen you before. You come into Finnegan's now and then,” Declan said, addressing Mayo.

“I do indeed,” Mayo agreed, nodding to Declan and glancing over at Craig and Mike. He shrugged. “My family hails from County Mayo, Ireland. My great-grandfather was one of the many who headed to New York in the middle of the nineteenth century during the great potato famine. Finnegan's is like a touch of the home I never knew. And,” he added, “cops love the place.”

“We do have plenty of cops around,” Declan agreed.

“Well, pleasure, and I'll be moving on,” Mayo said. “Craig, Mike—we'll keep in touch,” he said, then headed down the hall. He paused to turn back and lift his coffee to Julie. “Thank you,” he said.

“Pleasure,” she assured him.

Declan looked at Craig and Mike, his expression serious. “I don't like it,” he said. “I don't like it one bit.” He shook his head. “It's no secret that we really do have off-duty cops in the place all the time. You'd think people would know that and misbehave somewhere else.”

“One would think,” Danny murmured.

Declan looked over at his sister. “Kieran, go home. You worked all week. You were caught up in a robbery on Monday and then involved in that subway thing two days later. Last night you slept here at the hospital. Go home. Get some sleep. Julie, why don't you go with her? I have a few free hours to hang here, and Danny can stay until tonight.”

“Danny has to work today,” Kieran said.

“But I can be back for tonight,” Danny said.

“I just got here, and I had plenty of sleep last night. I can help out here or at the pub, wherever you need me,” Julie said.

“There, you see? Everything is covered,” Declan said. “I'll just see you home and—”

“Declan, I know how to hail a cab. I've lived in New York my whole life,” Kieran reminded him.

Declan hesitated, and Kieran realized that her brother didn't want her leaving alone.

Craig quickly stepped in. “Mike and I can take Kieran home, see that she's bolted into her apartment.”

“Thank you,” Declan said. “Now get going, sis. You need a break.”

“Declan, I'm all right,” Kieran said.

“No, you're not. You look like hell, like you slept twisted in a knot.”

“Someone needs to stay with Bobby tonight,” she said stubbornly.

“I can sleep here,” Julie said. “I'm mostly working from home now anyway.”

“We'll see,” Kieran said. “I may be back. But right now I'm going to tell Bobby goodbye, if you'll excuse me.”

She still felt a little embarrassed around Craig and Mike, but they'd offered their help and she knew she had no choice but to accept it.

She moved quickly past them and into Bobby's room. Leaning down, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then met his eyes and whispered, “Bobby, if you know something—anything—about something going on at Finnegan's, you have to tell the cops.”

“If I actually knew anything, I would,” he told her. “You leaving?”

“Not if you don't want me to.”

He smiled at that. “Lass, get out of here and quit fussing over me. Let me have some rest.”

She smiled. “I'll see you soon.”

“That you will, lass, that you will.”

Declan entered the room just then and greeted Bobby cheerfully.

“You're in responsible hands now,” Kieran told Bobby. “I'll see you all soon.”

Declan caught her before she could leave. For a moment he held her in a tight embrace. “Be careful,” he warned her. “Make sure your door is locked and bolted.”

“Yes, sir,” she assured him, heading out.

“See you all later,” Kieran said to the group gathered in the hall.

Danny looked over at her. “Call me if you get cabin fever. And don't leave your place without at least one of us in tow, okay?”

“Don't forget, I'm here, too,” Julie said.

“Thanks,” Kieran called, leaving.

Craig and Mike stepped up and flanked her, as if instinct allowed them to fall into protective formation instantly.

As they waited for the elevator, she tried to appear nonchalant. Tired and nonchalant.

She couldn't help but wonder just how much the two men had heard of what Julie had been saying.

Had Mike already known that his partner was sleeping with her?

Had Craig talked about her? Said something like “Hell, yeah, nothing like an auburn-haired bartender,” with Mike replying along the lines of “Nice piece of ass, my friend, nice piece of ass.”

No. They wouldn't talk like that. She didn't know why she was so certain of it, but she just was. They had class.

Like her brothers. She'd heard them talk among themselves often enough. They could tease, they could even make the occasional off-color remark. But they weren't...crass.

Gary Benton, though.
He
was crass.

She mentally shuddered, just thinking about the man.

The elevator came, interrupting her thoughts, and a few minutes later the three of them headed out to the street.

It was a perfect spring day, and their car was parked just down the street, its official decal protecting it from tickets and tow trucks.

Craig opened the front passenger door for her, but she hesitated. “Mike, you can ride up here. I'll just be hopping out when we get to my place.”

“I like the backseat,” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “You've driven with him, right?”

“You should drive so well, old man,” Craig teased him back.

She didn't want to make a scene. She just wanted to get home and retire to the comfort and tranquillity of her own bed.

No, forget tranquillity. Her bed would only make her think about the last time she'd slept there.

Maybe she could just nap on the couch.

Craig drove quickly and competently. “Any new insights?” he asked her.

Kieran immediately felt fearful at his words because now she knew Finnegan's was involved.

But not any member of the Finnegan family!

“I wish,” she murmured. “What about you? Oh, yeah, you can't tell me or you'd have to kill me.”

“Ongoing investigation,” he said.

“All I know right now is that I'm really tired and that I'm really,
really
grateful Bobby's going to be okay.”

Mike leaned forward, his head between Craig's and Kieran's. “Bobby say anything to you?”

“Other than that the guy who attacked him seemed to be wearing a vampire cape?” Kieran asked.

“Yes,” Mike said.

She shook her head, feeling as if she was lying when she really wasn't. She just wasn't telling them everything, that was all.

“We're all worried,” she said honestly. “We have diamond buyers and sellers and jewelry store owners as customers.”

“Like Mr. Krakowsky, Gary's boss,” Craig said.

She nodded. “Like Mr. Krakowsky,” she agreed.

Sunday morning traffic was light. They were at her place in no time. She started to get out of the car, but Craig was there before she could set foot on the sidewalk. She looked up at him as he reached to give her a hand.

She hesitated and then took it.

Mike was out of the car, as well, but only to take the front seat now that she was out of it.

“It's broad daylight on a Sunday morning,” she said, and managed a rueful smile. “We should be at church. On Sundays Finnegan's opens with a traditional roast at one, and we only serve a limited menu. We have a lot of good Catholics among our clientele,” she told him. “Of course, this is New York. We also have a rabbi who comes in, and pretty much every other religion, even atheists and—”

“You're babbling,” Craig interrupted. “Let's get you up to your apartment.”

Craig didn't follow her in this time. He was all business, with his sunglasses and FBI-sanctioned suit.

“Lock yourself in,” he said, then waited to be sure she followed his order.

She started to, but he suddenly put a hand on the door, stopping her. “Kieran, call me. Please, call me if you think of anything at all that might be helpful.”

“Of course.”

“And keep your door locked and bolted.”

“I will.”

That time he let her close it, but she knew he was still waiting in the hall as she slid both the bolts.

Then he was gone.

And she was alone.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

SYLVIA MANNERLY WAS
almost too easy to read, Craig thought.

She was terrified that her company was going to wind up looking bad, that maybe Maria had been into something illegal, which had led to her death.

But through Ms. Mannerly they'd found another contact—Jilly Bowen, a young woman from the Bronx who had been friends with Maria Antonescu. They hadn't managed to reach her the night before, and today she seemed scared to be talking with the FBI, but she agreed to meet him and Mike at a coffee shop in the Diamond District.

Jilly was young, only a girl. Maybe nineteen. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life and had started with Clean Cut Office Services
right out of high school. “I have the Manning building. No diamonds to steal,” she said. “God! I can't believe what happened to Maria. She was so nice, and she worked so hard. All she cared about was work and school. Not me. I'm stashing away my savings. I'm going to backpack through Europe before I decide on school or anything else. But Maria...she had a goal. Very little fun. Until...”

Her voice trailed off, and she looked nervously from Mike to Craig.

“Until?” Craig pressed gently.

Jilly let out a sigh. “You can't tell her aunt!”

“We already know about her secret lover,” Mike said, smiling. “And not to worry. A young woman seeking the companionship of a young man is a pretty natural thing.”

Jilly smiled at that. “Joe,” she said softly.

“You know the guy's name?” Craig asked, surprised. From the way Alicia Rodriguez had fallen apart, he'd been sure she must have been Maria's best friend.

But she hadn't known the boyfriend's name.

Jilly nodded. “She didn't tell me on purpose. She was on the phone with him, and she was a little upset. I heard her call him Joe and say something just wasn't right.” She stopped speaking, and her eyes widened. “You can't believe Maria was in on the robbery! She would never have done anything like that. You didn't know her. She was the most ethical person I've ever met.”

“We're not casting aspersions on Maria,” Craig assured her. “Okay, so tell me, did you ever see Joe?”

Jilly shook her head. “I'm sorry.”

“You said she talked to Joe on the phone.”

“Yes, her cell phone. Didn't you find it?”

Craig shook his head.

“I can't believe Miss Mannerly didn't have a conniption fit when she didn't get it back,” Jilly said. “We all have company phones. Cheap pay-as-you-go things. Miss Mannerly gets them for us, and we'd better answer them at all times when we're working. She's a jerk. Cheapest service, hardly any data, no games, no watching the latest movie trailers. I'm surprised she didn't demand that you find it and give it back to her. Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad place to work. We're paid a decent wage, and we even have insurance. But, boy, she's a tigress when it comes to the rules.”

“Not always a bad thing,” Mike said. “Though she does sound pretty tightfisted.”

“She's just careful with the company's expenses,” Jilly said, softening a little. She shook her head. “You should have known Maria. She was wonderful. She'd help anyone in a pinch.” Tears filled her eyes. “I heard that Mr. Belvedere is going to have a funeral for her?”

“When the body is released,” Craig said.

“He sounds like a nice man. Maria liked working for him.” Jilly sighed. “I need to go. I work Sundays for a few hours. Is there anything else? You can call me anytime if you think of something. I'd do anything to help catch Maria's killer.” She shivered. “I still can't believe they just shot her that way, point-blank.”

“Unfortunately there are a lot of terrible people in the world,” Mike said. “Thank you for your help.”

“You're welcome,” Jilly said. “It's all just so scary, you know?”

She looked nervous.

“We can drive you to work,” Craig said.

“You don't have to do that. It's only a few blocks away. And if Joe
was
somehow involved, it's not like I've ever seen him. Oh, God! Do you think that's possible? Maybe he got her to disarm the alarm so he could come in and wait for her, when really he was planning to...to...”

“We've considered that as a possibility, yes,” Craig told her. “Come on, we'll drop you off.”

“No, thanks. I'd rather not be seen with the FBI. Just in case anyone's watching, you know?” she told them.

“As you wish,” Craig said.

When she was gone, Mike said, “Damn. This means dealing with Mannerly again.”

“We have to find out why she never mentioned the phone,” Craig said. He drummed his fingers on the table. “I don't like this at all. I think Bobby O'Leary was attacked because someone thought he knew something. I'm afraid for this girl, for Alicia Rodriguez, and everyone we talk to now because our killers could think they know something, too. Mike, I think that means we're getting close to something.”

“Yeah. Too bad we still don't see what it is.”

Craig agreed with that. “Joe,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, what a great clue. A tall, dark-haired guy named Joe running around New York City,” Mike said glumly.

“We have more than that,” Craig said.

“We do? What's that?”

“A tall, dark-haired guy named Joe running around New York City—and possibly frequenting a pub called Finnegan's on Broadway,” Craig said. “It's only an assumption, but with Bobby being attacked and everything else that's been going on, it's a fair one, I would say.”

* * *

By three o'clock in the afternoon, Kieran felt that she was going stir-crazy.

She'd actually managed to doze on and off for several hours and she felt rested, but also as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, as the saying went.

She tried to make herself look at things logically. To utilize every bit of training she'd had since she'd decided to go into psychology.

Not to mention calling on all her time in the field—more or less—as a bartender.

She didn't want to die. She liked living. She loved her brothers and wasn't sure they would actually make it to old age without her.

But it was also ridiculous to think that she couldn't go down a flight of stairs to a busy street and hail a cab to go somewhere.

She was surprised, in the midst of her argument with herself, to receive a call.

It was Dr. Fuller, and he sounded impatient. He must have been called off the tennis court, she thought.

“Kieran, it's Sunday, and I'm sorry as hell to bother you,” he said.

“It's all right. I'm not doing anything important,” she said. “What is it?”

“Dr. Miro actually tried to deal with this, but...it's a woman you were doing an assessment on for us. She's at Rikers.”

“Oh?”

“Tanya Lee Hampton. You know. The one who cut off her husband's penis,” Fuller said flatly.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” Kieran asked worriedly. Had she made a poor assessment? Had the woman knifed someone in the cafeteria?

“She wants to see you and only you.”

“She does?”

“Her attorney called me. She's very upset, and she won't tell anyone why. Only you.”

“All right. What do I do?”

“Nothing. I'm sending a car for you. The driver—William Buell, he drives for us all the time—will call when he gets there. Mrs. Hampton's attorney will be waiting for you when you arrive.”

Reprieve! She could go out and no one could fault her for it. She was being picked up at her door and going to a place where dozens of officers would be keeping watch.

“I'll be ready,” she said.

In twenty minutes she received the call from William Buell. She'd seen him before, though he'd never actually driven her.

Along with working with the police, her bosses often worked alongside defense attorneys representing the very rich, enabling them to be very rich themselves. Buell, she was pretty sure, was Dr. Fuller's private driver.

He was on the sidewalk waiting for her when she came down. “Miss Finnegan, good afternoon. Lovely day for a drive. Too bad we're going to Rikers.”

“Not to mention we're both working on a Sunday.”

He laughed and let her into the car.

He was a talkative man and entertained her with stories about his son's Little League games as they drove.

As Dr. Fuller had said, she was met by Tanya Lee Hampton's public defender, Joan Terry, a dark-haired young woman with a harried expression and frizzy hair who reminded Kieran of a schnauzer. But she turned out to be highly professional and dedicated to her often thankless job.

“I don't know what's going on,” she told Kieran, as they jumped through the metaphorical hoops involved in entering the facility. “She was insistent that we reach you. I kept telling her that I'm the one who'll be defending her in court, so she has to tell me anything that can affect her case, but she begged me to get hold of you. I've read your report, and you will help us, won't you?”

“Yes, of course,” Kieran said.

She was led to a small room similar to the one she had been in twice before, just in a different section of the jail. There was a door with a window, a table and two chairs.

“A guard and I will be right outside,” the attorney told her.

“I'll be fine,” Kieran said.

Tanya Lee Hampton was waiting for her. She didn't say a word until the guard and her lawyer were outside the door.

“Thank goodness you're all right. And thank goodness you're here,” Tanya said then.

“Forget about me. How are
you
doing?”

Tanya shrugged. “My sister is trying to come up with bail. This isn't a great place, you know.” She leaned in closer. “Dr. Finnegan, I think you're in danger.”

Kieran was stunned by her words, but said by rote, “I'm not a doctor. Please, just call me Kieran.”

“Kieran, you were great to me. You were the first person who actually listened to my side of the story. I don't want anything to happen to you.”

“Thank you. I don't want anything to happen to me, either. Now tell me what you're talking about.”

“It's something I overheard, and I can't let anyone in here know about it or know that I might pass something on if I overheard it. You won't say anything, right?”

“I'll keep this in confidence, yes, though I'll have to give some explanation to your attorney,” Kieran said.

“I'm afraid of dying here, if anyone finds out I said something,” Tanya said.

“We won't let that happen,” Kieran said.

Was that the truth?

She prayed she wasn't lying and nodded encouragingly at Tanya.

“Okay, I was at dinner, and I heard these other women talking, only I couldn't see them because there was a big concrete column between us. I heard them talking about the chick in the subway, laughing because the girl who went down on the tracks is probably going to get famous and all. And then they started talking about
you
.”

“By name?” Kieran asked.

“Actually, they called you ‘the Irish broad.'”

Kieran shrugged at that. “Okay, go on.”

Tanya took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “The one's boyfriend was the one who did it! She was whining because he was supposed to get good money for it, too. But he didn't get paid 'cause he pushed the wrong person. He was aiming for you and blew it.”

Kieran nodded slowly, feeling chilled but not shocked. She'd sensed that the man in the hoodie had been after her.

Thankfully, whoever wanted her dead had hired an inept assassin.

Whoever wanted her dead...

Yes, someone wanted her dead.

She tried not to shrink into herself with fear.

“Tanya, I think what happened in the subway is connected to several murders. Can you tell me anything else at all?” she asked, amazed that her voice wasn't trembling.

“Oh, God, I'm so sorry, but I can't. I'm a coward. But I've got kids, you know? I should have moved closer and tried to hear more, but instead I waited until I knew they'd gone.”

Great. There was no way to question every woman at Rikers. Besides, whoever it was would only stare at them blankly and lie anyway.

Not to mention that it would put Tanya in danger.

There was
one
thing she could do, she thought.

“Tanya, I'm going to get a Good Samaritan to post your bail. I'll do it as quickly as possible,” she promised. She hesitated, then asked, “Did you hear anything else? Anything at all?”

Tanya was reflective, her brow knit into a frown. “Yeah, there was one more thing,” she said finally. “But I didn't really get it.”

“What?”

“You work at a pub, too, right?” Tanya asked.

“My family owns a pub, yes.”

“That makes sense, then,” Tanya said. “Whoever she was, she said her boyfriend knew what you looked like. The people who were supposed to pay him pointed you out one night. At a pub.”

* * *

“I can't even begin to understand what
you
don't understand,” Ms. Mannerly said indignantly. “Why would I worry about a phone when a woman was dead?”

“We need all the information you have on that phone,” Mike told her calmly.

“Why? I've already had it turned off.”

“Because that phone has disappeared, but if it turns up again, we'll have something to go on,” Craig said, smiling pleasantly.

The smile was almost real.

He was grateful as hell that
he
didn't work for the woman.

“All right, all right, I suppose that makes sense,” she said. She pulled up a spreadsheet on her computer and rattled off the phone number, the service provider and where all her employee phones were purchased.

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