Alanna sat in the blessed quiet and listened to the traffic outside along the street. They’d had such plans to see everything in Charleston this trip—the old plantation houses, the swamps, the City Market. Now all those dreams had to be packed up in a trunk that could never be opened and carted back across the sea.
“I’m going to go downstairs and get you something to eat,” Ciara said.
Alanna knew she’d never eat a bite, but she needed to be alone for a bit, so she nodded.
Once her friend was gone, she stared at the phone. Liam’s parents needed to know, but oh how she hated to call them. If she were a coward, she’d call their vicar and ask him to go by and drop the news, but Alanna didn’t want to put that burden on him. He had enough problems of his own with a sick wife and two kids. She got out her cell phone and rang her father-in-law. It was around noon in Ireland. Her call would likely interrupt their dinner, and she nearly disconnected, but it clicked through before she made up her mind.
The maid answered, and Alanna asked to speak to Thomas.
“He’s at his meal, miss,” the maid said. Her tone of voice always made Alanna shrivel.
“There’s an emergency,” Alanna said. “This is his daughter-in-law.” Only she wasn’t anymore. The Connolly family would be only too happy to scrape her off their shoes.
Thomas came on the line a few seconds later. “Alanna? What’s wrong?”
She caught her breath. How could she tell a father that his only son was dead? Her vision blurred and she blinked rapidly. “Thomas, it’s very bad news I bring you.”
“What’s happened to Liam? Someone mugged him, took all his money. I knew it would happen. How much do you need?”
He sounded weary, as though he was used to them dunning him for money, and anger swept away Alanna’s grief. Never had they asked Liam’s father for a dime. “It’s nothing like that.” He started to interrupt her, and she went on quickly before she lost courage. “Thomas, please. It’s much worse than you understand. Liam, he—he was in an accident.” Though she could hardly call the deliberate planting of a bomb an accident.
“An accident, you say? He was injured. Sheila, Liam’s been injured,” he said to his wife, who must be standing near.
“No, Thomas. He was . . . killed.” Her voice broke on the word. The stricken pause on the other end of the line brought more tears rushing to her eyes. Even though they disliked her, she knew the pain they were going through. “He was riding with his friend Jesse Hawthorne.”
“No,” Thomas whispered. “It’s a cruel joke you’ll be playing, Alanna. Tell the truth now.”
“I wish it weren’t true,” she said, a sob breaking through her resolve to be strong, “but I saw his body myself. I’m bringing him home on Friday.”
A moan came through the phone, then a click. Thomas had hung up on her, and she was thankful she didn’t have to hear his grief. Her own was quite enough to bear.
Three
The green hills of Ireland greeted Alanna with an uncharacteristically fine day. She was the first out of the terminal, and her mates crowded behind her. They had managed to get onto her flight at the last minute.
Barry motioned to the driver of the van he’d rented, and the man opened the back to lift their bags inside. “The casket is being transported for you, so we won’t have to worry about that. The driver will take you to your apartments. I have some business to attend to, but call me if you need me.”
“Thank you, Barry. You’ve been grand. My mates will take care of me from here.”
“Of course.” He helped her into the van after her friends, and his hand lingered on her arm for a long moment before he stepped back. The van pulled away.
Fiona turned to look out the window. “The first thing I’ll be having is a big plate of black pudding and a spot of real tea. Americans don’t know how to make it.”
“I want mash and bangers,” Ena said. “And to smell the city.” She sniffed the air.
Alanna listened with half an ear. The first thing she had to do was go see Thomas and Sheila, but she dreaded it. They would blame her for Liam’s death. At least she would be able to tell them about the baby.
Ciara took her hand and seemed to read her mind. “C’mere. Do you want me to go with you? To see his folks?”
Alanna squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Would you mind?”
Her chin jutted out. “Thomas won’t be bullying you with a witness alongside.”
“You don’t know him.” Alanna let her gaze wander over the bustle of traffic outside her window.
“I’ll be finding out,” Ciara said, scowling.
Alanna drank in the beauty of the city she loved. When they passed Leinster House, where the parliament of Ireland convened, her smile faded. Thomas was an Oireachtas senator, a member of the upper house of the Irish legislature. He was much loved by the Irish media and his blokes in the Seanad éireann, the equivalent of the United States Senate. He was probably there right now, imposing his will on his mates, just as he’d always done to her and Liam. Escaping to her music had saved them both.