Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“This is Lucy Cassidy. Lucy, this is my uncle, Frank, and my old friend, Owen. Lucy runs a bakery called The Celtic Crust. I’ve been thinking about investing for quite some time. I was at the bakery, in fact, when those low lives attacked us.”
“Nasty business.” Frank scowls. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Lucy. We’ll sort this out.”
He almost sounds like he believes it. Owen flinches. He tries to hide it, but I spot it, less than a second, a tell like he fears giving himself away.
“Thank you, Uncle Frank,” I say. “I thought it’d be polite to bring her here tonight just in case they try anything else.”
“Good thinking,” Frank replies. “Anyway… shall we?” He waves a hand toward the lighted entrance.
“Sure.” I turn to the elderly woman. “It was lovely speaking with you, ma’am.”
“Good luck,” she calls after us, no idea how badly we need it.
Once we’re back in the ballroom, Frank does what he always does at parties: gets wildly drunk. Owen sits in the corner with a group of his men. I stand at the bar with Lucy, careful not to show too much affection, though it’s difficult.
When she sips her champagne and hiccups, I want to tease her playfully so badly. She sees me looking, smiles, then forcibly wipes the smile away like she’s annoyed at herself.
“I’ll wait for Owen to leave the room, then go after him. If he doesn’t leave, I’ll approach and ask to speak about something delicate. At first, I’ll make out like it’s about Shane and the mob, then I’ll go from there.”
“I’m still not sure about this.”
She stares at me. “It’s a good thing I’m sure then,” she says fiercely. “You protected me. You saved me from Shane. Now it’s time I did my part.”
“You’ve got no clue how badly I want to kiss you right now.”
She bites her lip. “I want that too. But we can’t.”
“Remember, I’ll be right outside. If you need me, all you have to do is call out, and I’ll be right there. And I’ll be listening the entire time.”
I turn as Colm approaches me, leaning in, speaking in Gaelic. “Half the men in here are already loyal to you, Killian. When it’s time, let us know. We’ll end this before it begins.”
“You’re going to be listening on your phone, right?” Lucy asks, the nerves making her cheeks turn red.
I nod. “The listening device links to my cell. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
She swallows, looking across the room as Owen moves slowly toward the hallway, to use the bathroom. “Then it’s showtime.”
Lucy brushes her dress down and then walks across the room.
“She seems nervous,” Colm mutters.
“She is,” I tell him gruffly. “But that’s the thing with Lucy. She knows how to push through. How to keep going. She never quits. She’s been like that her whole damn life, and that’s not about to change now. She can do this.”
Nineteen
LUCY
Iwait around the corner from the men’s bathroom. When Owen emerges, I walk down the hall, then stop in front of him. He looks like a kind elderly man… except for something in his eyes. It’s difficult to say what, exactly. It’s a vibe.
“Mr. Doyle, isn’t it?”
“Owen, please,” he says with a thin smile.
“Owen, I’m not sure if you remember—”
“We just met. I’m not senile.”
“Sorry.” My heart is thundering so hard, I wonder if it’s going to block out the recording device. “I was wondering if we could speak. It’s a delicate matter. I think it’s better if we do it in private.”
“What could we possibly have to speak about in private, girl?”
I swallow. This is it: the gamble. If I bet wrong, I could ruin any shot we have of proving that Owen is behind this. I’m trusting Killian’s instincts. And, after briefly meeting these two men, it seems far more likely that level-headed Owen is behind it than Frank, who’s already incredibly drunk.
“The mob,” I say.
His eyes snap open widely. “What has Killian told you?”
“Nothing,” I reply. “This isn’t coming from Killian. A man has been visiting my bakery for quite some time, and he mentioned you, sir.”
I somehow keep a steady voice. The whole time, I’m watching Owen for a reaction to what I say. His smile returns, more calculating and belittling than before. I imagine him thinking, This stupid little thing doesn’t know what she’s getting herself involved with…
“I’m not agreeing that I have any notion of what you’re talking about,” Owen mutters. “But yes, perhaps speaking in private would be better. Follow me, then.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Ignoring my question, he snaps, “So, does Killian know you’re aware this is a mob gathering?”
“Killian’s just a businessman trying to do a good deed,” I tell him. “He was going to invest in my bakery. He was there so I could show him some of my special menus when that attack happened. And he helped me with something else… concerning that man I mentioned.”