Love and Shamrocks: Ballybeg, Book 5 (29 page)

“John-Joe,” Nora clutched the crucifix around her neck as though it would ward off evil. “Stop this now. Let’s forget the past and enjoy our dinner.”

“His mother shot my brother, yet Johnny blames him for the situation.”

Seán sat stupefied. This couldn’t be true. His beautiful mother would never do such a thing. Yet memories nagged him. He saw her perfectly made-up face and gorgeous clothes. Far too fancy and expensive to be funded by a country policeman’s income. He recalled being left in hotel lobbies with his little brother while his mother disappeared to meet faceless friends. He remembered babysitting Dex while his mother was out and being told not to mention her absence to his father. Was John-Joe telling the truth, or was his uncle screwing with his mind?

“You know it’s true, boy. My brother shouldn’t have flirted with Helen Havelin, but a man can only take so much humiliation.”

“If my mother had affairs, too, why did she kill him?”
And herself…

Nora and John-Joe exchanged a significant glance. Eventually, Nora sighed and said, “I dearly loved your mother, J—Seán, but she wasn’t the most stable of characters. She suffered badly from depression after you and your brother were born. Sometimes, it was hard to get her to rouse herself to go through the motions of the daily routine. On other occasions, she was a whirlwind of hyperactivity. I’ve often wondered if she didn’t have one of those disorders like manic depression. Bipolar, I think they call it these days.”

Reeling, Seán pushed back his chair and stood. “Thanks for dinner, but I need some air.”

“Seán, don’t go,” Nora pleaded, clinging to his arm. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it, and John-Joe didn’t mean what he said. You know what he’s like when he’s been drinking. I should have left off after the first bottle of wine. He doesn’t even like the stuff.”

Making fumbling excuses, Seán managed to extract himself from his aunt’s clutches and make his exit. Outside the Fitzgeralds’ house, he sucked salty sea air into his lungs and tried to steady his racing mind.

Walking rapidly, he headed toward the promenade and down the steps to the beach.

Blood roared through his head. He didn’t need this shit. Didn’t want it to be true. The sweet memories of his mother, the scent of her perfume, all tinged and tainted by John-Joe’s sordid tale.
That perfume
…something expensive. Hard to pay for on his father’s salary.
Damn.
Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? It all made sense. What a fucking tragedy. If she had been mentally ill, why hadn’t someone gotten her help? If she’d had the proper treatment, maybe she wouldn’t have snapped and blasted Seán’s childhood away.

He focused on the waves crashing over wet sand, the salty air, and the smell of seaweed. Here a man could think, could breathe, could gather his galloping thoughts. Why had he always fixated on the idea that his father was to blame for what his mother had done? Did he find it easier to blame the quiet, taciturn father who was hardly ever home rather than the warm and caring mother who baked biscuits and always sat down for a chat when he came home from school?

The ringing of his phone cut through his thoughts.

Superintendent O’Riordan got straight to the point. “I need you out at the halting site.”

“Another attack?”

“You could say that. Someone put a knife in Blackie Murphy.”

“Jaysus. Is he dead?”

“Nah, but mighty pissed.”

Seán stared out at the crashing waves and forced himself to focus. “Okay. I need to collect my car, but I should be there within thirty minutes.”

THE EXCHANGE WITH Blackie Murphy was not going well.

“Enough with the theatrics. I’ve got the message. You’re the tough man on the halting site, and I’m not to forget it.” Seán leaned forward. “For feck’s sake, I’m trying to help you. I want to know who’s harming your people, and I want them stopped.”

Blackie cradled his sore arm and glowered at Seán. “We sort our own problems. How do we know you’re not like the rest of the Guards?”

“I don’t call you Tinkers, for a start.”

The other man laughed. “I don’t give two shites what people call us, long as they let us live in peace.”

Peig shuffled into the room, leaning heavily on her cane. “You again,” she said upon seeing Seán. “Would you ever give over hounding us and focus on finding whoever’s behind the attacks?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do. But to get to the bottom of it, a bit of cooperation from your side would help. We all want the same thing—find whoever’s responsible and stop them. I know you don’t want police involved, but it seems to me like you’re not having much success on your own stopping the attacks.”

“What are you proposing?” she asked with a sneer. “That we work together? I don’t see that going well.”

“It might if you’d give me a chance. So you don’t trust the Guards in general, but do you trust me?”

Peig stared at him through rheumy eyes. “Oddly enough, I do.”

“Ma, you can’t be serious.” Her son looked horrified. “We’re not working with a Guard.”

“Not working with him as such. Just being a little more willing to swap info.”

Seán was on the alert. “Anything I should know?”

“Oh, no, Sergeant Mackey. You first.”

“We’ve traced the air rifle I believe was used to take shots at your tires, and we’ve questioned people who might be responsible for the attacks. Problem is, they deny everything. I suspect we have the right men, but I’m not convinced they decided to attack your people of their own accord. Any idea who has a vendetta against you? Or some sort of agenda in driving you out of Ballybeg?” Seán leaned back in his chair. “Now it’s your turn.”

Blackie exchanged a glance with his mother. “We’ve had issues with some of the local landowners over the past few years. You know the halting site is on communal land?”

Seán nodded. This was why, ostensibly, the locals shouldn’t object too loudly to the halting site’s location. While the Travellers were occupying land that belonged to the community, they weren’t squatting on anyone’s private property.

Peig shuffled to an oak sideboard and pulled open a drawer. She extracted a pile of letters and tossed them on the table in front of Seán. “We’ve had several letters from the town council over the past year. They’re looking to rezone this area and designate this land for building.”

Seán stared, his mind in overdrive. “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”

“That’s the odd thing, Sergeant Mackey.” Peig gave him a weary smile. “Very few people do seem to know about it. Aidan Gant suggested it when he joined the town council. Now that he’s dead, Councilors Evans and Jobson seem particularly keen on seeing it approved.”

No wonder.
Evans and Jobson both owned land that bordered on the communal land. “Why are you only telling me this now?”

Peig shrugged. “We heard you had a run-in with that prick O’Shaughnessy.”

“I did,” he replied with caution, wondering where this was leading.

“That man was always a bigot.” Peig paused to top up his tea. “And frankly, so was your father when he was on the police force.”

“I’m not my father,” Seán said roughly. “I’m my own man.”

Peig gave him a measured look. “I can see that.”

“Even if you suspect Evans and Jobson are behind the attacks on your community,” he continued, “I think we can assume they’re not carrying them out themselves. Are you going to give me a clue as to who is?”

Again Peig and Blackie exchanged glances. Finally, Blackie shrugged. “The only ones I recognized were Colm MacCarthy Junior and a couple of his pals. There’s been bad blood between me and Colm MacCarthy Senior for years.”

A confirmed sighting of the MacCarthys…excellent news
. “Let me guess—dog fighting?”

Blackie gave a half smile. “As I said, we don’t get on.” The man leaned forward, suddenly serious. “If you don’t sort this out, Mackey, we will. One phone call will rally a lot of help from our friends.”

Meaning other members of the Travelling community. “Why haven’t you called in the cavalry before now?”

“Believe it or not, Mackey, we just want to live our lives in peace. The moment I ask for help, I’ll get it, but it’ll mean an all-out war. That’s a step I’d rather not take. And now that young Jimmy is getting better, simmering tempers have calmed a bit.”

“I’d prefer to avoid the vigilante justice route myself,” Seán said with a dry laugh, “but Jimmy was badly beaten. He deserves to have his attacker caught and punished—within the parameters of the law.”

Blackie and Peig exchanged another loaded look. Finally, Blackie said, “Colm MacCarthy Junior and his pal, Ben Driscoll, are the men to question.”

“Okay. Thank you for the information. I’ll try my best to sort this out.”

He stood to leave, and Peig escorted him to the door of her caravan, her old bones creaking with each step.

“By the way, do you know Helen Havelin’s first husband’s family?” he asked. “I believe they were part of your community.”

Peig’s rheumy eyes twinkled in amusement. “Indeed I do, Sergeant. Billy Murphy was my late husband’s nephew. I’ve never met Billy’s daughter though. She grew up in the settled community. The two lifestyles don’t mix well, you know. Billy left to go on the stage, but the gypsy lifestyle was still in his blood.”

He nodded good-bye and walked back to his car, deep in thought. In the days before the expected action at Clonmore House, he’d do some digging concerning the current members of the town council and their interest in the halting site.

“ARE YOU SURE you’re up for this?” Seán’s handsome face creased in concern. The intensity of his gaze made Clio wish she still had the right to kiss him.

He’d called by Clonmore House a couple of hours before she needed to leave for her shift at the pub. It was the Friday before the expected burglary, and their plans were in place. Helen was staying with Superintendent O’Riordan for the weekend. Given the contented smile on her mother’s face the morning after her date with the super, Clio guessed it had gone well.

Meanwhile, Tammy was on a train to Wexford. She’d been invited to spend the four-day weekend with Emma’s parents. The Reillys had always made an effort to keep in touch after she’d regained custody of Tammy, and Clio appreciated that. In truth, Emma’s parents had been more like traditional grandparents to Tammy than Helen or her stepfather.

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Seán was saying, “and we’ll have people positioned around the house. You won’t be in any danger.”

She nodded. “I know. I trust you.” She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry about not confiding in you sooner. I should have told you the whole story that night at your house. I almost did, but…”

A small smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. “But I distracted you. I remember. Vividly.”

Heat crept up her cheeks. “We haven’t talked about it directly, but you’ve been avoiding me since my mother’s party.”

“Yeah. I’ve been busy at work—tracking down leads and verifying sources.” He examined his knuckles, then turned his gaze back to her. “And I needed time to think. We all keep secrets. I know you were only trying to protect Tammy.”

“I’ve punched Trevor O’Leary so often in my dreams. I won’t deny that,” she said, “but I have enough humanity not to act on that impulse. All I asked Ray to do was have his guys talk to O’Leary. I figured a show of muscle would be sufficient to send that coward scuttling.”

“It’s okay, Clio. Your story checked out, and I’ve kept my word. No one knows about this apart from you, your mother, and me.”

“And Ray.”

He sighed. “And Ray. I’m hoping he’ll have enough to worry about after tonight not to harass you.” His phone beeped. “I’d better go. I’m due for a last-minute strategy meeting with the super and the specialist team who’ll be helping us tomorrow night.”

At the door, they lingered, neither one wishing to say good-bye.

Finally, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Are you working tonight?”

“No,” she whispered, inhaling his scent greedily.

“Want me to call round? I’m off duty tonight. With Colm MacCarthy Junior and Ben Driscoll in custody, I’m unlikely to be called out on an emergency. Might as well make the best of our hanging-around time before the clock starts ticking.”

“That would be lovely. I finish work at eight. Is nine too late?”

He smiled. “Nine is perfect. See you then.”

***

Despite her brave words from earlier, Clio was feeling the first stirrings of panic by the time Seán rang the doorbell later that evening. She cradled Travis in her arms and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, searching her face. “You look stressed.”

“Just a little.” She pushed a stray strand of hair back from her cheek and stood aside to let him in. “Thanks for coming round this evening. The house seems enormous all of a sudden.”

That made him laugh. “This house
is
enormous.”

“Well, you know what I mean. It never felt scary big before.” Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, she led the way toward the TV room. “I didn’t hear your car. Did you have it on stealth mode?”

“No,” he said with a grin. “I cycled. Not having a gym nearby makes it harder to keep in shape. I try to run and cycle whenever I have the time.”

“Can’t you use a police gym?”

“I can and I do, but the nearest one is in Cork City. I don’t make it there more than twice a week. If I want to get transferred back to the NBCI, I have to be in top physical shape.”

With a wide smile, she allowed herself the pleasure of raking him with her eyes. “You look very good to me. I’m happy to give you a workout later.”

He moved closer, slipping the palm of his hand onto the small of her back. “And I’d be happy to let you. How’s the puppy?”

“Eating us out of house and home. His appetite can be politely described as prodigious.”

Seán leaned close and stroked the puppy’s soft fur. “It looks like he’s thriving.”

Her breath caught and her pulse raced. Their eyes clashed and he bent to kiss her. The instant his lips met hers, Clio forgot all the stresses and strains of the past few months. “You sure you want to watch a film right now?” she murmured.