Rory tipped his head and left.
Craig assumed Kevin would be coming back. To his surprise, he glanced over to the bar and saw Kieran hand her bar towel to her twin and head back over to the table instead.
“It’s really stew in a pastry crust,” she explained, sliding onto the seat next to Julie.
“I’ve actually had Guinness pie before,” he assured her. “Not as good as this, I’m certain, but I have had it.”
Julie turned to Kieran. “What did you say to him? To get him to leave, I mean.”
“I actually appealed to Jimmy McManus, the man he came in with,” Kieran said. “I said that you were here this evening and feeling a bit down, and then I asked him nicely if they might go somewhere else for the evening.”
“Jimmy’s a decent guy,” Julie said.
Kieran looked across the table to Craig. “Thank you. I saw what you did.” She smiled. “All you had to do was stand up. Good show.”
Craig shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “I just asked him not to use certain language. My mother taught me never to suffer fools. And my dad came from a very tall family of Highlanders. Height always helps.”
“You were wonderful,” Julie breathed.
Kieran looked down at her plate—hiding a little smile, he thought. She also seemed glad to have the attention on him rather than on her.
“I have to say, Rory was right. This is the best Guinness pie this side of County Cork,” Craig said.
An attractive young couple approached their table just then, apologizing for interrupting, then telling Kieran how proud of her they were.
Thirty seconds after they left, an older woman came by, saying, “‘Any decent person would lend a hand.’ Nice, Kieran. I don’t know what this city is coming to—girls being pushed in subways, men killing people who don’t even fight back over diamonds. Diamonds! Just rocks. Wretched things. I hope they catch those bastards soon.”
“We all hope so, Lorna,” Kieran said.
The woman bade them good-night and left, but only after studying Craig curiously.
“I should have introduced you,” Kieran said to him. “How rude of me. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d just as soon stay anonymous. If you do introduce me to anyone, just use my name—say I’m a friend. Tell people you’re with the FBI and suddenly they’re afraid to say anything.”
He thought he saw Kieran color a little. “Only the guilty ones,” she said.
Julie smiled. “Hey, see the three guys over there at the far booth? Grooving to the music? They’re some of New York’s finest. This place is always filled with cops. New York has a lot of Irish cops, you know. Irish descent, at any rate.”
“You’re Irish, too?” Craig asked her.
“My dad,” Julie said, rolling her eyes. “I was a Jameson—no relation to the whiskey Jameson’s, I’m afraid.”
The white-haired man who seemed to be a fixture at the bar with his soda and lime suddenly rose and came over to them. “Mind if I join you for a spell?” he asked, his brogue rich.
“Of course not,” Kieran said. “Have you two met? Bobby O’Leary, this is my friend Craig Frasier.”
“Frasier, eh?” Bobby said.
“Yes, sir, how do you do?” Craig shook the man’s hand.
“Scotsman, eh?”
“My father’s father, yes.”
“You’re that FBI agent.”
“Yes,” Craig said.
He was always in control, Kieran thought. But she saw his mouth tighten a bit and realized he wasn’t pleased that he was known to be with the FBI.
“Saw you on the television with Kieran here. Scary thing. She’s precious to us. Glad you were there for her.”
“Actually, sir, she saved me.”
“From a water pistol,” Kieran said quickly.
“Still, we had no idea we weren’t dealing with killers,” Craig said.
“I think I was just functioning on adrenaline. Besides, I have a feeling you would have Rambo-ed your way out of the situation eventually,” she told him.
Bobby wagged a finger at them both. “You be careful now, you hear? This is no joking matter. Those killers out there are real. Now you, sir, you’re trained for this. Kieran, you may be a hero, your face plastered all over the papers, but you take care, lass, take great care. There’s no Finnegan’s without you, you know.”
He rose to leave them.
“Bobby’s one of our oldest customers,” Kieran said.
“He’s quite observant,” Craig remarked.
“He’s been in recovery for years,” Julie added.
“Must be hard, spending as much time in a pub as he does.”
“Pubs aren’t just bars,” Kieran said. “Pubs are meeting places.”
“Whoa, I wasn’t attacking the place!” Craig said, lifting a hand. “This is my new favorite hangout.”
Her smile faded. She looked uneasy.
Julie didn’t notice. “Rory outdid himself tonight,” she said. “This is delicious.”
By the time they were finishing, the pretty young Irishwoman, Mary Kathleen, Declan’s red-haired fiancée, came hurrying over to them.
“Julie, I know you’ve been wanting to move, and I have the perfect solution for you,” she said, flushing with pleasure.