[8]

Haley laughed, a sound that held no humor, and stared at the man. “My grandfather wants me to come home? Hmm. Well, first of all, I’m not convinced he’s truly my grandfather.”

“And second?”

“America has been my home for quite a few years now.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve also got a good job that I love, good friends—and kids who depend on me. There is no more Ireland for me.” She didn’t have many good memories of the place. Just hardship, struggle, betrayal.

And death.

“What about family?” Duncan asked. “Don’t you want to know your family? Or what’s left of it. You’ve got a few cousins, not first cousins, but still blood relatives.” He paused. “I researched you as I was searching for you, to be sure, but may have missed a few things. I didn’t see that you were married. Do you have family here?”

“I’m not married. I’ve no family here in America. And I’ve no family in Ireland. Me mam died when I was fifteen.” She fell back into her natural speaking voice. “I lived on the streets and managed to finish high school and then some college.” She heard Steven’s indrawn breath and gave an inward grimace. She didn’t tell people that fact unless she had to.

“You disappeared from the time you were twenty until the age of twenty-five, when you showed up in Athens, Greece, at the bodyguard academy,” Duncan said. “Where were you for those five years in between?”

She kept her gaze steady on his. “It doesn’t matter.”

He hesitated, then nodded. His eyes went to the windows, then to the patrons in the restaurant, then back to her. “All right, I won’t push that, but will you please reconsider and come back to County Mayo? Yer grandfather is an old man and gettin’ older by the minute. He wants to see you.”

“I don’t believe you.” But she almost did.

“What can I do to convince you?”

“Nothing. It’s preposterous. What is it you’re really after?”

Duncan narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and pointed at her. “You were supposed to die that day too, you know.”

She pursed her lips and glanced at Steven, who’d remained silent and—stoic. Haley turned back to Duncan. “Isn’t that a bit of a stretch?”

“They blew up yer bus.”

The words were like a punch to her midsection. “What do you mean? What bus?”

“There was a field trip that day. Twenty-one children—all the children in our class—were killed, along with six adults. You and I and two others were the only ones who weren’t there. But the attack on the castle and the attack on the bus were the same day, minutes apart. It’s not a coincidence. You and yer family were targets.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a small section of newspaper.

Haley stared at him, sickness rolling in the pit of her belly. “The zoo.” She took the old, yellowed paper from him, and the headline glared back at her. BURKE FAMILY ATTACKED, ELEMENTARY SCHOOL BUS BOMBED. ARE THEY RELATED?

“The zoo,” he said.

She barely had time to process the article when he pulled a picture from his breast pocket and passed it to her.

She stared at it and memories assaulted her. Memories she’d thought were dreams. Like blips in a movie trailer, the images came to her. “The school was red, was it not?”

“It was.”

“There was a playground outside the classroom.”

“We had some good times there.”

“We were classmates, then?”

“We were.” He offered her a slight smile that disappeared fast. “Do you understand what I mean by saying you were supposed to die that day?”

“I think I’m beginning to. I mean, I believe this all happened, I do. I’m just not sure it happened to me. That I’m Aileen Burke.” She shook her head. “I can’t wrap my brain around it.” Even though the memories were starting to tumble over themselves . . . like the sound of a little one crying in the middle of the night. She’d wanted to help him, so she’d crawled into the crib with him and soothed him back to sleep. Then there were the friends from the little red school, racing from one end of the playground to the other.

But how could it be? Just . . . how? She thought those memories were simply dreams. Figments of an overactive imagination.

“I know it’s hard,” Duncan said, “but it doesn’t change the facts.”

She didn’t say anything for several seconds, then narrowed her eyes. “There was a baby . . . a toddler . . .” His sweet grin and green eyes swam in her memory.

“Yer brother, John. They killed him too.”

She flinched. So the little one had been her brother. If she were to believe this crazy story. But she couldn’t deny the flashes of memory. Or whatever they were. “How do you know you’ve found the right person?”

He flushed but didn’t look away from her. “I got yer DNA and had it tested.” At her shock, he held up a hand. “It was simply a water bottle you threw away, I didn’t break into yer house or anything.”

Haley rubbed a hand over her ponytail. “It’s not even believable.”

Duncan reached into his bag and pulled out a small photo album. “Yer grandfather gave me this to show you.” He handed it to her.

She took it and opened it. A young couple stared back at her. “Daddy,” she whispered. “Mam.” She looked at the baby on her mother’s hip. The one she’d heard crying in the night? “John.” Duncan stayed silent, so she flipped the page. And stared at a younger version of herself.

“That was taken two weeks before the attack.”

She flipped a few more pages and came across an older man and woman. “Grandparents?”

“Yer grandmother died a few years ago, but like I said, yer daideo is anxious to see you.”

“What about my . . . mam’s . . . parents?”

“They died in a car accident shortly after yer parents were married.”

Haley rubbed her forehead. “I can’t deny the memories or the fact that the people in the pictures are familiar.” She paused. “All right, say I believe that I’m Aileen Burke. I was supposed to die but didn’t, obviously.”

“No, you disappeared.”

“Yes, you mentioned that,” Haley said. “My question is, why? Why the attack on my family, why kill all those children just to get at me?”

“The motive for the attack was never discerned. At least not a motive that was clear-cut. There was speculation, but nothing ever proven. Everyone at first thought it had to do with yer grandfather’s money.”

“An understandable thought.”

“To be sure. His will stipulated that should he die, yer great-uncle Niall and your father would inherit. At the time he made out the will, they were the two who were running the company. Should yer father die before you reached legal age, yer mother inherited along with Niall. Should both of your parents die at the same time, Niall would continue running the company, and you and your brother’s share of the fortune would be held in trust until you reached legal age. Then half would revert to you and half to John when he came of age.”

“Sounds to me like that gives Niall some serious motive to get rid of my family,” Haley murmured.

“The Gardaí thought so, too, and did a full investigation, but came up with nothing that pointed to him. No ties to the Mafia, no large sums of money that couldn’t be traced or explained. Nothing. Should the company go to you, he’s still well provided for by yer grandfather. Niall appeared to be devastated at the loss and fully cooperated with the investigation.”

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t behind it.”

“True, but nothing panned out when it came to proving anything. If he was involved, he knew how to cover his tracks.”

“He’s not running the company now, is he?”

“No, his son, Kane, is. Along with Lachlan, Niall’s grandson, and Maeve, Lachlan’s wife. They’ve pretty much taken it over—under the supervision of yer grandfather.”

“He still has his finger in the pie?”

“He does.”

“Niall retired about a year ago when he started having health problems. Now Kane, Lachlan, and Maeve are the top dogs there.”

She chewed her bottom lip while she thought. “And nothing else happened after the attack on the family?”

“Well, actually, there was an attempt on yer grandfather’s life shortly after the attack on the castle and the bus explosion. But after that, he surrounded himself with security and rarely left his home. Said he couldn’t leave his wife a widow with no one to take care of her. When she died, he still remained pretty secluded, giving the explanation that he didn’t want to give anyone a target.”

“I see.” She digested the news.

“I know yer daideo wants to see you, and he won’t be happy with me for saying this, but—if you come back to Ireland, you could be a target again once it’s known yer still alive.”

“But why?”

He shrugged. “Memories can be long. If the people who perpetrated the attacks are still around, they may want to finish the job.” Again his gaze flicked to the windows. “I’ve felt like I was being watched since arriving here, but I don’t ever see anyone, so I’m not sure.”

“And you approached Haley?” Steven suddenly spoke, a frown on his face.

Duncan sighed. “I did. I couldn’t keep playing the cat-and-mouse game with her.” He smiled. “She would have caught me eventually.” His lips tightened. “But now I’m worried.”

“Why?” Steven asked.

“Why would someone be watching me? Follow me all the way to the States? Like I said, it worries me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I almost didn’t let you approach me. But if there’s someone following me, then they know where you are anyway and I needed to give you a warning, at least.”

Skepticism flowed through her, but she kept it to herself. “Who knows you’re here?”

“Yer grandfather, Ian Burke, my superior who allowed me to come, and the man I hired to find you. As far as I know, that’s the sum of it.” He cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to hers. “So, how about it? Will you be comin’ home?”

Steven listened to the conversation play out between the two. He felt like he’d been dropped into another universe—or like he should be looking for the movie cameras. And if he felt like that, he couldn’t imagine what was going on inside the woman he’d just met. A woman he found intriguing and wanted to get to know better. A woman who obviously had quite a story.

One, he admitted to himself, that he very much wanted to hear. And he also had to admit he wanted to know where she’d been those five years she hadn’t wanted to talk about. He frowned. It wasn’t like him to be so curious about someone else. He had enough on his plate for now, with his father’s illness and a desk piled high with inherited cases that needed his attention, even though it was only his third day on the job. His phone buzzed. Quinn answering his text about the social worker.

Quinn

Ask for Lydia Smith.

Thanks.

He tucked his phone back onto his clip and tuned back in to the conversation. “I can’t give you an answer right this moment,” Haley was saying. “How long are you here for?”

“I’m to return Monday morning,” Duncan said.

“Today is Sunday. You mean Monday as in tomorrow?”

“It didn’t take me as long to track you down as I’d thought it might. The man I hired sent me the information he’d gathered on you, and I was able to locate you easily. I can always change the ticket if need be.”

“No need,” she said. “So the man you hired is the one who’s been following me?”

“He was, and he grabbed yer DNA as soon as he had the chance. Sorry about all the secrecy, but I didn’t want to bother you if you weren’t the right one. I had instructed my man not to have any contact with you.”

“Was he driving the same car you have?”

“He was. He left the car for me at the airport. I simply picked it up when I landed.”

“Well, at least it’s starting to make sense to me. And I now know who was following me. That’s a bit of a relief,” Haley said.

“He said you tried to approach him, that he could tell you planned to confront him.”

“So he ran.”

“So he did.” Duncan let out a low laugh. “As soon as we knew you were the one, your grandfather wanted to meet you and sent me after you.”

“What were my parents’ names?”

“Charles and Irene Burke.”

She whispered the names under her breath. “They sound familiar. It all sounds familiar, but . . .” She spread her hands and sat back in the chair. “It’s just so far-fetched I can’t wrap my mind around it.”

Steven could understand that.

Duncan stood. “Take a couple of days to think about it.”

Haley stood as well. “I will.” She turned to Steven, who also rose to his feet. “I need to get back to Zeke’s place.”

Steven looked at his phone. “Quinn’s been texting me. They’re finished at the scene, but he wanted you to know he’s keeping an eye on the house and the family until we get back.”

“That’s good.”

“But this isn’t. He said Zeke came out right after Richie stormed off and was pretty shaken up. Zeke said Richie is fired up about you getting into their business and disrespecting him.” His eyes snagged hers. “He said he was going to kill you, and Zeke wants you to know Richie could make it happen.”

Haley frowned. “I don’t like that.”

“I don’t either.”

She sighed. “All right, I’ll keep an eye on my back. As for Zeke, ask Quinn if he has a cell phone he can leave with him. I don’t want him to be without one.”

“I’ll get him to take care of it.”

They walked toward the door while Steven sent the request to Quinn. Once outside, Steven drew in a lungful of the night air. Slightly humid, but not too bad yet. He enjoyed it while he could. During the summer months, he knew he would feel like he was drowning. Duncan walked on the sidewalk nearest the road while Haley walked beside him as they headed back toward the cars. Steven brought up the rear in case the two of them had more to say to each other. But they’d fallen quiet. Others passed them, the streets busy this time of night. His phone vibrated and he looked at it. “Quinn said he’s taken care of the phone. He’s having one of the officers run up to the convenience store to get one.”

“Good. I’ll pay him back.”

She’d heard him and responded appropriately, but Steven could tell she was distracted. Duncan had his hands shoved into his pockets, yet held himself alert, rigid almost. Cars whipped by them, people on their way to wherever it was they were headed. Haley stopped abruptly, nearly causing Steven to run into her.

“All right,” she said to Duncan, “I’ll go.”

“What?” Duncan had taken three more steps. He spun to face her.

“I’ll go. If this is all true, I want to meet him.”

“Just like that?” Steven asked.

“Well, sort of just like that. I can’t leave until after the kids’ performance. I promised I’d go with them and I meant it. I can’t let anything get in the way of that. Not even something as crazy as this.”

“What kids?” Duncan asked.

“I run a center for teens. They’re auditioning for a national talent show and I promised to go with them this weekend. I can’t back out now.”

“When is the earliest you can leave then?”

She tapped her lip. “A week from Saturday.”

“He’ll be glad to hear it.”

She stayed still and studied Duncan, her mind working. “And they never found who blew up the bus?”

“They never did, I’m sorry to say.”

A light breeze ruffled her hair. She looked at Steven, then back to Duncan. “I think I remember them.”

“Who?”

“The children in the picture. I remember playing with them. Once we were in Belfast, I used to talk to them when I was lonely and scared, especially at night when we were sleeping under a bridge or in an abandoned warehouse. They were my playmates, my imaginary friends.” Steven reached out and gripped her upper arm in a supporting gesture. She rubbed her eyes. “But you’re saying they were real.”

“Very real.”

“Then I want to know who killed them.”

Haley started to add that she intended to find out, but the sound of a roaring engine caught her attention. Senses still on alert from the previous adrenaline rush, she spun to see a black coupe coming straight for them. Hard hands on her shoulder threw her off balance and she stumbled back. Screams echoed around her and her back slammed into the storefront.

A thud echoed.

Gunshots sounded.

Pain exploded in her left side.

Her legs went weak and she collapsed onto the sidewalk. Time slowed. She registered people screaming, running, and mass chaos. Terror pulsed around her. More shots, this time from Steven, who’d moved in front of her to return fire.

Her focus narrowed, she shoved aside the pulsing pain and stumbled to her feet. Warmth and wetness coated the area just under her rib cage. The world spun and fire licked along her nerve endings even as she reached for her weapon.

The coupe screeched away and she was having a hard time staying on her feet. Then Steven was there in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. “Call an ambulance!” Who was he talking to?

He pressed and her legs gave out. Gently, he lowered her back to the ground. Anger ignited. She’d worked hard to get up and now he was making her sit back down.

“You’ve been shot, Haley,” he said, “so stop being stubborn and sit. I need to look at the wound.”

Shot? “Is that why my side feels like it has a hot poker in it?”

“Definitely.”

“Oh. Great.” Yes, the feeling was familiar. She’d healed from one gunshot wound, now she had another? Lovely. She licked her lips and looked past him. “Looked like a different car.”

“Huh?” He wasn’t looking at her. He was too busy lifting the edge of her tattered shirt to look at her side. He gave a low whistle. “Yep, that’s gotta sting.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “A little bit.” Then she groaned. Weakness invaded her and she decided she wasn’t mad at him anymore for making her sit. “Where’s my gun? I dropped it.”

“Here.” He slid it over to her.

Haley wrapped her fingers around it and stayed still while, through waves of pain, she let her gaze probe the chaos. The car with the shooter was gone, the screams of the people had morphed into wails from the approaching sirens. Police cruisers squealed to a stop at the curb, and officers with their weapons drawn hovered behind their open doors, scoping the area before moving into the possible line of fire.

“Go after him!” Steven pointed in the direction the car had disappeared. “A black Buick coupe. License plate has JZ in it.”

“And a five,” Haley whispered.

Steven relayed the message.

“There weren’t any plates on the car outside Zeke’s house,” she said. “At least none that I could see. I’m pretty sure it’s a different car anyway.”

Officers piled back into their cruisers and two peeled away in pursuit.

Haley’s eyes landed on the man to her right. “Duncan!” He didn’t move. She shoved Steven aside and pushed to her feet. She swayed, then caught her balance and stumbled over to the fallen officer now surrounded by helping hands. Blood covered his chest and she froze. “Don’t look. Don’t look.” The words echoed in her head. And like a snapshot, a picture frozen in time, she saw her father on the ground, the red stain spreading. “Don’t let him die,” she whispered. “You can’t let him die.”

Then more hands were pulling her away and guiding her toward the waiting ambulance. “You need to get to the hospital,” Steven said. “Let’s go before you bleed out.”

Bleed out? Surely it wasn’t that bad. The sticky wetness coated her fingers. Or maybe it was? “I don’t want a hospital.”

“Too bad, you’re getting one,” Steven said.

She craned her neck to look back at Duncan. “Is he alive? He needs to go first.”

“As of right now. And he’ll be on the next one as soon as they stabilize him. Anyone you want me to call?”

“Olivia,” she said and gave up the struggle. Steven actually lifted her off her feet and set her on the gurney. She gaped at him, the pain in her side almost fading with her shocked surprise. Almost.

“Sorry, who?”

“Never mind. Call Quinn and tell him. And tell him to keep someone on Zeke’s house.” The pain sent waves of nausea through her. She laid back on the gurney, the pillow cushioning her head. There were a number of ambulances in the vicinity and she knew Duncan would be next. Please, Lord, don’t let him die. Her mind spun and she fought the desire to sink into darkness. She couldn’t pass out now. Had Richie managed to act that fast? Apparently so.

The pinch in her arm told her she had an IV. She saw the young paramedic pulling medication from a bottle. “No narcotics,” she gasped.

He paused. “Ma’am—”

She narrowed her eyes. “You give me narcotics and I’ll . . . I’ll . . . do you severe bodily damage. You understand?”

He narrowed his right back at her. “No narcotics. Got it. We’ll go with Toradol. It won’t make you sleepy but it’ll take the edge off, okay?”

“Yes, that’d be great.” She grimaced. The threat to hurt him might have been a bit harsh. Haley cleared her throat. “Sorry. I really wouldn’t hurt you.”

He glanced up at her from where he was adjusting the IV. “Appreciate that.”

She could tell he didn’t consider her a real danger. “I just can’t be groggy right now.”

“I understand. It’s not the worst anyone has said to me. Don’t worry about it.”

But she was worried. Not about the exchange with the paramedic, but the fact that it appeared she’d made an enemy tonight. Someone had just tried to kill her. And poor Duncan. Was he the one who’d shoved her out of the path of the car? Out of the way of the bullets? She touched her side. Or at least most of them. God, please don’t let Duncan die. Not because of me, please, not because of me. I can’t live with his death too.

She let out a pain-filled breath and closed her eyes. She wondered what Richie’s last name was, because she had a few words to say to him when she found him—and a pair of cuffs with his name on them.