The Parting Glass (39 page)

“How will we make plans?”

“If I have to, I’ll find someone to bring messages to you. And if you can slip away to early Mass in the mornings without arousing your father’s curiosity—”

“I will. You know I will.”

“You said there was a new man watching you?”

“I got away from him today. I’ll get away from him again.”

“Do you think you ought to go back now?”

She looked torn, but at last she nodded. “I’d better.”

“I’ll walk you to the streetcar.” He started to stand, but she put her hand on his arm.

“Don’t. Stay here. I’ll disappear into the crowd. You were right. It’s better if we’re not seen together.”

He took her hand. “It’ll only be for a little while. Then we’ll be married for the rest of our lives. We’ll make this work. You’ll see.”

She lifted his hand to her lips; then she stood, and in a moment she had blended into the crowd and disappeared.

Glen sat watching the space where he’d seen her last. At first he didn’t see the shadow falling on the blanket. By the time he realized he had company, the man was towering over him.

The man was familiar. Glen realized that immediately. But the rest, where and when he’d seen him, danced at the edges of his memory.

“Donatone’s warehouse,” the man supplied.

Glen started to get to his feet, but the man motioned for him to sit. He joined him, pulling his legs up and hugging them against his body as if he was enjoying the sun with a close friend. “Last time I saw you,” the man said, “I had to knock you out.”

Thinking about it made Glen’s neck hurt. Once he’d come to, he’d had trouble living down that fiasco. He hadn’t dared tell anyone that the same man who had rendered him unconscious had also saved him from another bootlegger’s bullet. Despite past glories, he doubted the department would ever have sent him on another raid.

“What are you doing here?” Glen demanded. “I could haul you off to jail.”

“I’m here keeping an eye on Miss McNulty.”

Glen heard Ireland in the man’s words; he also heard a warning. He didn’t bother to lie. “She’s not here.”

“I know. I saw her leave.”

“
You
were the goon in her backyard. She didn’t give you the slip after all. You followed her.”

The man grinned. “That’s me.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“I guess I’m the last guy you’d want to give it to, huh?”

“Liam will do.”

“Pleased to meet you, Liam Willdo.”

Liam’s grin broadened. “And you? Pardon me if I’ve forgotten.”

“Glen Donaghue.”

“Well, Glen Donaghue, I’m here to give you a warning.”

“That’s all? Too many people around to deliver a beating to go with it?”

“You could hold your own, I’m thinking.”

“I could.”

“Mr. McNulty has plans for his daughter. They don’t include the likes of you.”

“And hers don’t include him. It’s the twentieth century. Women like Clare vote. They turn their stockings down and bob their hair and smoke cigarettes. They go to school and decide who they’re going to marry. They don’t let their fathers pawn them off on men they despise.”

“That so?” Liam tugged at a piece of rye grass and put it between his lips. “She despises this Cassidy fellow?”

Glen realized how strange this meeting was. Liam was a thug, and all thugs were hazardous. But from the first moment he’d seen him, he’d felt drawn to the man. Of course, Liam had saved his life immediately, which went a long way toward creating a bond.

“She hates him,” Glen said.

“And she loves you.” Liam chewed on the grass.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t need to. She’s not the kind of girl who would sneak around for anything else.”

“How do you know? She said she’d never seen you before.”

“I listen. I pay attention.”

“Well, you’ve delivered your advice. You can go now. Make sure she gets home safely.”

“That was no advice. That was a warning, Donaghue. I told you, I pay attention. And here’s what I know. Tim McNulty isn’t a man to trifle with. Don’t be fooled by the wink and the charm. He’s as ruthless as a Prussian soldier. He won’t think hard before he’ll have you killed. He’ll kill her, as well, if he’s forced into it, or, worse, he’ll make her wish he had. You’re putting yourselves at risk.”

Glen’s conversations with Cleveland’s criminal element had never gone quite like this one. Liam Whoeverhewas seemed genuinely concerned about him.

“Why are you telling me this?” Glen said. “Are you trying to save yourself some work? Or don’t you have any stomach for murdering innocent young women?”

“I have no stomach for murdering anybody.”

“Then you’re in the wrong business.”

“Not so far. And I’d like to keep it that way.” Liam threw the gnawed blade of grass to the ground and stood, stretching as he did. “I saved your life once. Maybe I feel responsible for making sure you don’t throw it away.”

“You don’t owe me anything and never did.” Glen stared up at him; then he grimaced. “But thanks for the last time, and for the warning.”

Liam was staring down at him with an odd expression on his face. “You say your name’s Donaghue?”

“That’s right. Why?”

“Nothing. You look a little bit like somebody I used to know, that’s all.” Liam doffed his hat in farewell.

“If you keep Clare away from me, you’re guaranteeing her a life of misery. I’m the only hope she has for a real life, Liam.”

“No, by keeping you away from her, I’m guaranteeing my wife and daughter a real life. I do what I’m told. And I, at least, have better sense than to cross Tim McNulty.”

chapter 25

R
ooney’s story ended abruptly. He stood and stretched.

“Rooney, what happened to Clare?” Megan said. “Did she decide to obey her father and marry Niall Cassidy?” She was thinking fast. “Since she wasn’t my grandmother, I can assume she didn’t marry Granddad. Unless she was his first wife and nobody told me he’d been married twice?”

“Going to bed.” Rooney started up the stairs, unaware, she was afraid, that he was leaving without answering her questions. The storytelling had been convoluted, but the basics had been clear. Unfortunately, his mind was wandering now, as it still too often did.

She knew better than to put pressure on him. She was just lucky she had learned as much as she had. “Good night, Rooney. Sleep tight.” She watched him go.

She was still staring at the steps when the front door opened and Niccolo came in. He looked so tired that, despite herself, she felt a stirring of sympathy. Besides, staying angry at him was counterproductive when they had a long, romantic weekend ahead.

She got up and kissed his cheek. If he’d had a briefcase, she would have taken it. If he wore slippers, she would have gone to get them. “How’d your meeting go?”

“Long and exhausting. How was your evening?”

She wanted to tell him about Rooney, but she decided it could wait. She was afraid she would get a nod and an “uh-huh,” and then tomorrow, if she quizzed him about anything she’d said, he wouldn’t have a clue.

“Why don’t I make us a toddy?” she said. “You’ll sleep better.”

“I feel like I could sleep right here standing up.”

“Toddy?”

“Uh-huh. Great.”

She was standing at the stove stirring the milk and honey when he came into the room. He was barefooted, and he’d shed his tie and sportscoat. His shirt was open at the throat and hung over his hips.

“Making yourself comfortable, I see.” She reached for mugs above the stove. “This will cure what ails you.”

“What ails me are too many long nights away.”

“It ails me, too.”

“Would it bother you so much if the saloon were open?”

“Probably not as much. I’d be over there doing inventory or checking on things. But I’d always rather be with you.”

“I like the sound of that.” Niccolo flopped down at the table. “The good news is that the worst of this might be coming to an end.”

“Really? How so?” She turned off the burner but left the milk to warm a little more before the burner cooled.

“I think I may have found the funding source I need.”

“Really?”

“An organization that’s run out of Indiana. They fund youth projects all over the country, and they’re interested in Brick. They concentrate on crime prevention. Their motto is keep kids busy, give them skills and attention, and they grow up to be productive citizens.”

“That’s great. Sounds like they’re right up your alley. And there aren’t any strings attached that you don’t like?”

“There are lots of strings attached. I won’t know if I can live with them until this weekend.”

A warning alarm buzzed in her head. “This weekend?”

“I know. I know.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I told you I was free.”

“Actually, you
promised
you were free.” She kept her voice calm, but the effort was great.

“And I was when I promised. Look, Megan, please understand. I wouldn’t do this to you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. But I have to fly to Indianapolis on Friday afternoon, and I won’t be back until Monday. Their board meets this weekend, and if I’m not there, I’ll have to wait for their next regular board meeting, which isn’t for three more months. They have a host of questions for me and me for them. And this will expedite things.”

“You can’t ask questions on the telephone?”

“Sure, I could, but this makes more sense.”

“How much do you know about them?”

“Not nearly as much as I need to. What I do know sounds promising. I—”

“So you’re flying to Indiana without having the facts in place? Leaving on the only free weekend you’ve had in months, on something that sounds dangerously like a whim?”

“Look, you can come with me if you’d like. Do some shopping. Relax poolside while I attend meetings.”

“Gee, doesn’t that sound like fun. It’s always so nice to be alone in a strange city.”

“You know, I thought you’d be a little more understanding in light of what this could do for Brick. It was just one night out. There’ll be others.”

“Nick, I made reservations at the Inn at Honey Run for the whole weekend.”

“I never said I could spare the whole weekend. I said we’d go out one night.”

She thought of a hundred things to say to that. She restrained herself to the most practical. “At this late date, I won’t get my deposit back if I cancel.”

“Then let it go. I’m really sorry, but this is just one getaway. We have the rest of our lives.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means don’t count on it, Nick.” For a moment she’d thought she was going to explode, but now an icy calm filled her. She looked at the clock above the table. “I’ll be spending the night at Casey’s. Don’t worry about me. Don’t take even a moment away from the rest of your life.”

“This is unbelievably childish.”

She didn’t answer. She went upstairs and packed a change of clothes and her toothbrush. He was nowhere in sight when she closed the front door and started toward her sister’s house.

Casey made up the guest bed and sent Megan down the hall for clean towels.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” she asked when Megan returned from the guest bath.

“I’m sure.” Megan sat on the freshly made bed. The quilt beneath her was an eye-popping tomato red, and the guest room walls were a deep curry gold. A large batik of Hindu deities in compromising positions hung over the bed. She hoped she would be able to sleep.

“This is no way to work things out.”

“Look, no lectures, okay? I’ve just got to have some time away from Nick to think things over.”

“How long are you going to stay?”

“It depends.”

“You know you’re welcome to move in permanently, but I don’t want Nick to blame me for this.”

“Casey, I’m going to Ireland.”

Casey looked puzzled, as if Megan’s words had been spoken in an unfamiliar language.

Megan tried again. “Ireland. The Emerald Isle? I’m going to stay with Peggy and Irene. I can’t do it once the saloon is ready for business. I’ll be swamped, so the timing’s perfect now. Peggy’s been after us both to visit. I gather Irene’s health is worse than she’d guessed, and she’s afraid we’ll never get the chance to meet her. So I’m going to take her up on her invitation.”

“Did you tell Nick?”

“No, but I’m going as soon as I can get a reservation. Tomorrow, if I can.”

“Doing it at the last minute is going to cost a fortune.”

“You know what? I don’t care. I’ll put it on my credit card. I’ll pay it off a little at a time. Hell, I won’t hire a night cook when the saloon opens again. I’ll do it myself for a few months until I’ve made up the difference. Nick won’t even notice I’m not home.”

Casey sat beside Megan and took her sister’s hand. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to go off half-cocked like this? Shouldn’t you work this out, then go to Ireland if you still feel like it? But please, don’t go angry. Remember when I left Cleveland and what it did to
our
relationship?”

As a teenager, Casey, angry at Megan for not selling the saloon and giving each sister her share of the profits, had left Cleveland, vowing never to return. It had taken the sisters years and maturity to patch up their differences.

“
We
were kids,” Megan said. “Nick and I aren’t. And I’m so close to the trees right now that I can’t see my way through the forest. I need some time and distance to work things out in my head. I need to get away so it doesn’t feel so personal.”

“You need to work this out together.”

“Right now I’m too angry to try.”

Casey squeezed her hand before she released it. “Then what can I do?”

“Take care of Rooney. Will you do that for me?”

“Of course I will.”

“As long as Josh and Nick are there keeping an eye on things, he’ll be okay. But if you could visit, particularly this weekend when Nick’s gone, and make sure they have everything they need? Make sure Rooney’s taking his meds, that they don’t need groceries.”

“Easy enough. I’ll stop over every day, and I’ll cook for them while Nick’s away. Rooney really likes Jon’s chicken paprikash. I’ll bring him here to stay if I need to.”