Hard Irish (20 page)

He released her hands and she wrapped her arms around him.  She pulled him tight against her heart.  She closed her eyes, safe and secure with him in every way, and fell asleep. The world had disappeared and she had the only thing she needed right there with her.  Jared.

Jared woke.  He had not survived the day whole.  Bits and pieces of him lay scattered all over the place.  He could see how hurt Rocky was from her parents’ deception and realized he would shortly add to it, didn’t help matters either.

Now he knew how she’d won the bid for the Drake Hotel.  All of it had cut him off at the knees.  No cut corners, no illegal workers, just hardworking nose-to-the-grindstone drive and a little out of the box thinking.  He’d regularly bid on jobs and had never once thought to deliver a product in a shorter time than requested by the customer.  He’d finished jobs before the deadlines, but that hadn’t been by design.  It made sense, though.  The sooner the job was done then the sooner the customer could be making money, especially on a job like the Drake Hotel.

Rocky had claimed his mind the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

His body had been next.  His sexual drive was completely slave to his desire and his need for her.  It unsettled him, left him floundering.

But much deeper and more disturbing than anything else were the pieces of his heart and soul that Rocky had stolen.  His heart was all tangled into a knot and she was at the core.

He’d never felt this powerless in his life.  Powerless to stop his fall into her and powerless to stop whoever the fuck was threatening her.  He didn’t believe in coincidences and he didn’t think that the events at the job site were separate from the mystery of her mother and that of Pat’s death. Whether it was her ex, or some other shark lurking beneath the cloudy surface, everything had to be tied together.

Rising, he took care not to wake her as he dressed in the bathroom and headed down the stairs, waiting until he reached the bottom before strapping on the boot.  Personally he felt better without the restrictive plastic, but was willing to follow Jackson’s advice for at least a day or two more.

Patrick Brady’s death and everything else that happened had delayed the deadbolt exchange and the alarm set up, which meant he’d needed to be extra vigilant tonight.  He did a quick scan of the house’s perimeter then settled on the couch downstairs with paper, pen, and computer to examine in detail her life and anyone in her inner circle.

He made a page for each significant person in her life and wrote any pertinent facts, including the “after death” messages.  Then he wrote a page for each place within Rocky’s world, both close—her office, Patrick Brady’s house, the Drake Hotel.  For each place he listed related incidents and the people involved.  The break in at the office, Collin’s meltdown in the Rainbow Room, Patrick’s possible murder and the stranger woman, the planter incident and the people he remembered being on the jobsite that morning, then and the fire and the attack on Riley.  It irked him, but he included the ghost stories about the hotel.  Then he wrote Ireland at the top of a page with Patrick Brady’s name, her father’s, and mother’s below and a big question mark.  Even on paper Collin’s name popped up in association with a number of people and situations.  Was he the tying thread to it all?  The man looked guilty as hell.  Jared had to draw a deep breath and reexamine the facts, because he realized his anger had him focusing on her ex more so than anyone else.

“I thought we were supposed to tackle this beast together?”  Rocky, wearing tank top and shorts joined him on the couch.

He drew her closer and showed her the lists.  “We are.  I was just laying some groundwork.  Look at these and add anything you can think of to them.  Maybe by putting everything we know about each person and each place will help us see any correlations and possibly slide pieces of the puzzle into place.  Start with your mother, your father, and Patrick Brady.  They could be the core of what is happening.”

Rocky worked on the lists.  Jared read as she wrote and asked questions.

“Let’s put all of this on a timeline, too,” Rocky said.  When she finished, she spread the papers on the ottoman, putting the timeline in the center, people at the top, and places at the bottom. 

  Jared’s cell phone rang.  It was Jesse.  “We finally found Rory McKenna’s attorney, Steve Vance.”

Jared put on the speaker-phone.  “Vance is back in town?”

“Never left.  He’s been in the hospital.  He walked in on his office being burglarized.”

“Dear God.”  Rocky moaned.  “This nightmare doesn’t end.  How is he?”

“Intensive care, but will recover,” Jesse said.  “He can’t ID the burglars.”

“Let me guess,” Jared interjected.  “McKenna’s stuff is gone.”

“Won’t know until Vance can check it out.”

Jared looked at the time line.  “So Sunday afternoon Rocky learns that two people have things for her to be given to her after her father’s death. And within twenty-four hours they are both shot.  One during a burglary, the other from an apparent suicide.  So who found out about the future “after-death” deliveries?”

Rocky answered.  “I left the nursing home and went to Sally’s Roadhouse.  From there I came home then spent the night over at Dessie’s.  I told her everything, but there is no way she’s behind this.  Besides her, only you and Mack know Pat was supposed to bring me the package from my mother, but I didn’t tell either of you that until Monday night.”

“Who’s Dessie?” Jesse asked.

“Desmond Langford,” Jared said.

“Neighbor and close friend,” Rocky added.

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing?” Jesse asked.

“You never know,” Jared answered.  “Check her out.”

“What?” Rocky glared at him and at the phone.

“We’ll get back to you,” Jared told Jesse.

“Hold up,” Jesse said.  “One other thing.  Because of the fire damage, Ringo is having a hard time scanning
Unforgivable
into word files for everyone.  But from reading the preface, he gathers the crimes listed were all acts of violence between the British military and the Provisional Irish Republican Army.  The first chapters detail key conflicts events between them dating back for centuries, but the rest are recent and infamous events, which might have some significance.  He wants you to get to that list ASAP.”

Rocky gripped Jared’s arm.  He zeroed his gaze on her pale face.  “What?” he asked.  Had she remembered something?   “Were on it,” Jared said.  He disconnected the call and set his hand on Rocky’s.  “Do you remember something?”

“No.  But I can put two and two together.  My mom has no past.  My mom came from Ireland in the early eighties when the IRA was one of the premier terrorist organizations in the world.  I don’t want to know what’s in that book.”

Jared exhaled.  “Me neither, but for your sake we have to.”

Rocky was already reaching for the list they’d read earlier.  “Since we don’t have the book and none of the crimes rang a bell.  Why don’t we Google each of them and see if other facts or details bring something to mind.”

Jared set the computer between them.  “What’s first?”

Rocky ran her finger down the page.  “We can start in 1974.  My mother would have been ten then, if she wasn’t lying about her age.  The event we’re looking for is called the M62 bombing.”

Jared typed in the information and Rocky leaned in to read.  “Off Duty British Soldiers and Their Families Murdered.  Several different branches of the military were traveling on a bus with their families when an onboard bomb exploded.  Over fifty people were wounded and eleven were killed, including a Corporal Houghton his wife and two sons.  The Provisional Irish Republican Army claimed responsibility, which lead to celebrations in Belfast.  What victory lies in the death of innocent people? ”

“None.  Let’s keep going.”

Rocky drew a deep breath, trying to ease the knot in her stomach.  Nothing helped.  Not even Jared’s supportive presence.  The crimes went in chronological order and showed atrocities committed on both sides.  “Type in Lord Mountbatten,” Rocky said, going to the next name on the list.

Jared did, this time he read the article.  “In 1979 Lord Mountbatten, the cousin to Queen Elizabeth II, was assassinated by a bomb on his yacht,
The Shadow V
.  Also killed were his fourteen year old grandson, Nicholas Knatchbull, Paul Maxwell, a fifteen year old boy from a nearby village.  The Dowager, Lady Barbourne, died the next day from her injuries.  Leader of the Provisional IRA said what the IRA did to Mountbatten, Mountbatten had been doing all of his life to other people.”

Rocky pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the article.  “Says here that eighteen Bristish soldiers were killed that same day.  Ambushed in a guerrilla assault called the Warrenpoint Massacre.  To label these times as ‘The Troubles’ is an understatement.  So far, all of these are horrible tragedies that make me sick inside, but doesn’t tie into anything that I know about.”

Jared moved on to the next crime.  “Just a few months later it says here that five Catholic college students in Belfast were murdered, supposedly in revenge for Mountbatten’s assassination.  The three men and two women were believed to have been involved in the IRA.  They were tied to fence posts in a rural area and boiling pitch was poured over their heads before they were set on fire.  Protestant, British soldiers were suspected but no charges were ever filed.  The victims’ names were Liam McNall, Shona O’Loughlin, Deidre Finaggan, Alan Dunlavey, and Sean O’Prey.”

Rocky gasped.  “Dear God.  I think I’m going to be sick to my stomach.  How can people do this to each other?”

Jared met her gaze with a troubled expression.  “I don’t know.  It is...unforgivable.”

“College age?  Two women?”  She shuddered.  “Shona is my and my mother’s middle name.”

“Hell yeah.” Jared grabbed his cell phone.  “Keep on, reading.  This just might be the tiny fissure that will break this ball-buster wide open.”

Rocky’s mind raced and her body tingled as Jared communicated to Jesse her name connection to one of the crime victims.

“Jesse’s moving heaven and earth,” Jared said.  “We should have information shortly.

Rocky kept reading. She finished that article and read several more on the murders.  After months of riots and protests from the community the five students were from, the British officer in charge, George Pearson, found his forces innocent of any wrong doing despite some evidence.  Pearson blamed a protestant militia in Belfast.  That militia adamantly denied its involvement.

She sighed.  Her heart burdened by the senseless loss of life and the inhumane cruelty.  “You know, insanity doesn’t lie in the mentally disturbed, but in the ideologies of men.”

“Too true,” Jared agreed.  “Especially ideologies that gave no quarter, compassion, or acceptance for fellow human being who differ in beliefs or in any other way.”

They kept reading.

“George Pearson’s name appears again,” Rocky pulled up and scanned the article, giving Jared the highlights.  “In 1982 Pearson and his wife, a niece to the rich Duke of Westbury were kidnapped by the IRA.  Supposedly the ransom of a million pounds’ worth in diamonds was paid, but the couple was never found.  Rumors were Pearson was killed for exonerating the British soldiers, but nothing could be proven.  Though the brothers of McNall and O’Prey, two of the murdered college students, had been seen in the area of Pearson’s abduction, no other evidence surfaced.”

Rocky closed her eyes as dread grabbed her insides.  “My dad married my mother in 1982.  She would have been eighteen then.  Is it possible that...”

Jared leaned in close and cupped her chin, locking his gaze to hers.  “Maybe she had a connection to what happened to Pearson, if she had a connection to the Shona who was murdered.  I’ll let Jesse know.  Whatever it is that we find, remember two things.  It may change the past as you know it, but it doesn’t change who you are inside.  And you are not alone.  I am right here with you, however you need me, behind you as support, beside you as a friend, in front of you as your protector, and” he grinned.  “Inside of you as your lover.”

She didn’t know whether to laugh or give into the tears threatening.  She kissed him instead and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her mouth to his.  In her moment of uncertainty, he seemed to be everything she needed to face her fears and the past.  The kiss was light, just a meeting of their lips, a brief taste of heaven, but it went as deep, if not deeper than anything they’d shared before.

She moved back, stunned at the flip her heart made.

Jared let her go.  A question lingered in his eyes as he dialed Jesse’s number.  She hoped he didn’t mistake her surprise as rejection.  This time, he didn’t put on the speaker-phone and he hung up within a minute.  “Ringo is already on it.  We should know a lot more in just a little while.  The international computer banks that Sheridan-Weldon Solutions have access to are amazing.”

“The whole company is amazing.  How long have you worked for Jesse?”

Jared coughed. “Dry throat,” he rasped.  “Let’s get a drink.”  He headed for the kitchen and she followed.  “I started the R&D facility two and a half years ago.”  He opened the fridge and snagged two bottled waters.  He handed her one.  “I don’t know about you but, lunch disappeared a while ago.”

 Rocky shrugged.  Just like a man to go from a kiss to grub in sixty seconds.  She didn’t think she’d be able to eat anything, but fixing him something would help her keep her mind off the horror of
Unforgivable
and what part her mother might have played in the tragedies.  “Grill cheese sandwich sound good?”

“Perfect.  My mother could never make enough grill cheese sandwiches to feed me and my brothers.  We were like a bottomless pit.  Same thing with mac and cheese.  James and I both lived on those two things during college.  I’ll check the perimeter and then come help.”

“It’s a deal.”  She set to work.

Jared escaped the kitchen sure the hair on his chiny, chin, chin was singed.  This was stupid.  He should just tell Rocky that he’d lied.  That he was in construction and...