If someone was trying to kill her, it had to be because he or she thought she knew something. The problem was, if she did know something, she had no idea what it was.
They’d tried to kill Bobby, too, and presumably for the same reason. And given that he was pretty much a full-time barfly, it was in fact reasonable to think he might have overheard something.
But what?
She had to talk to Craig. This was getting serious.
Of course, Craig already suspected something was going on at Finnegan’s. She could tell that he was suspicious of the clientele—and her family.
Maybe even of her.
No, he couldn’t be. He’d been with her when she’d been taken hostage. Then again, maybe he thought she’d been some kind of plant, and then the wrong set of thieves had shown up.
Maybe he was even sleeping with her to try to find out what was going on. Maybe he even expected to hear her whisper the truth when she was asleep.
She told herself she was being ridiculous. Even paranoid.
All she knew for sure was that at that moment she needed to be at Finnegan’s, needed to be with her family, the people she could always count on.
And where she was afraid someone she loved might be inadvertently involved in everything that was going on.
Buell let her off directly in front of the door and Kieran hurried inside.
The place was relatively quiet.
The pub always did a traditional roast from 1:00 p.m. until closing, which was midnight on Sundays. People came in at random times all day, and when she arrived, half the tables were full. She saw Mary Kathleen right away.
Her brother’s fiancée was in bright spirits; she knew that Bobby was doing well, so as far as she was concerned, all was right with the world.
“Kieran! I didn’t think you were coming in today,” Mary Kathleen said. “You must be worn to a frazzle, working all day, then sleeping at the hospital. Why didn’t you go home?”
“I needed company, I guess,” Kieran said. “And I had to talk to someone for work, and since they gave me a driver, I thought that I’d just get dropped off here.”
“Work on a Sunday?”
“No rest for the weary,” Kieran said lightly.
Mary Kathleen looked at her worriedly.
“No, no, I’m not really weary,” Kieran said quickly. “It was just something that needed to be done today.”
“Well, Declan’s behind the bar, Kevin is doing books and Debbie and I are doing fine out here on the floor. Why don’t you get something to eat? You’re starting to look a wee bit pinched.”
“I’ll say hi to Declan and maybe ask Rory for something, and then I’ll head back and see if Kevin wants some company,” Kieran said, smiling.
Her brother frowned fiercely when she walked up to the bar.
“I told you to get some rest,” he said with a scowl.
“And I did. I just wanted company, that’s all.”
“All right, you can help out if you want. I need you to pull all the credit card receipts from the past three weeks, and then I need you to see if any of them were paid by a man named Joe or Joseph.”
“What?” she asked, wondering if she’d heard him correctly.
“Detective Mayo is on his way—says they have a lead on a guy named Joe. I need you to go through our receipts and see if you can find him.”
“They think that someone named Joe is involved in all this and has been here?”
“That’s what I gather.”
“If Joe were a crook, wouldn’t he pay cash?”
“Possibly, but then again, maybe he’s a stupid crook or just thinks we’ll never get onto him.”
“Okay,” she said, turning away from the bar.
A married couple from the old country who had been coming in as long as Kieran could remember were seated in the first of the bar tables. The second was empty. Jimmy was sitting alone at the third. The two musicians from the day before were seated at the fourth, talking animatedly over their Sunday roast.
“Kieran!” Jimmy called to her.
She walked over to his table. “Hey, Jimmy.”
“Bobby is doing well, I hear?”
“He’s going to be fine.”
“Ah, now, that’s a relief,” Jimmy said. He looked at his watch. “It’s so irritating when people don’t show up.”
“Someone is a no-show, huh?”
“Yes, but enough of my bad mood. You look quite professional today,” he said.
“I ended up working today,” she said. “Your beer is empty. Want another? Or maybe a coffee?”
“Irish coffee,” he said, as if he’d come up with a great idea.
“I’ll be right back with one,” she told him.
“That will be great. I’ll drink that, and then I’m done waiting.” His eyes widened. “Damn!”
“Damn what?”
“I forgot. I’ll bet that’s why he’s not here.”
“Why who’s not here?”
“Gary Benton. I forgot—I’m sorry. You asked him to stay away. Although, don’t you think that’s kind of silly. Sometimes marriages don’t work out. Doesn’t mean people should be banned from the best pub in town.”
“We haven’t told Gary he can’t come in here. We’ve just asked him to have some decency and stay away when Julie—who, quite frankly, he’s treating very badly—is here, which, I admit, is often.”