When she got to Sullivan’s, it wasn’t opening time yet, so she could take a few minutes to straighten the place up after Saturday night—and use the time to straighten her thoughts as well. A lot had changed in the past twenty-four hours.

First, there was Helen. Suddenly, she had a living, breathing mother, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. As she started stacking up the chairs on the tables and retrieved a bucket and mop to swab down the old slate floors, Maura admitted to herself that she still had a lot of questions, some she couldn’t even put into words yet. Her mother had been, what—nineteen? Twenty? Younger than she was now, anyway—when she’d had Maura. Her father had been killed about two years later. How long after that had Helen stuck around with Gran? Six months? Maura understood the feeling of being trapped in a life you didn’t want, but she didn’t have a child to think of. At least Helen had left her with Gran, who had been a decent, responsible person and Helen had probably trusted to raise her daughter right. Gran, who had had to work and manage a small child at the same time. Then Maura had started working as soon as she could pass for legal age—at least as long as it was dark—which had given her some experience with handing out drinks and now and then managing grabby drunks. There had never been enough money.

Helen, though, had found a way to move up the ladder, and now she had a cushy job and nice clothes, and Maura was still working in a bar. At least it was her bar, no thanks to Helen. But Maura still felt a spark of anger that Helen had moved on and done so well without ever looking back.

Floor: clean. Check. Maura moved on to unloading the glassware from the small dishwasher under the bar. Mick had had to take his grandmother Bridget to church this morning, as Maura had reminded him. When they were in bed. Wow, she hadn’t seen that coming. Or maybe she had, but she’d buried it deep. She wasn’t the kind of person to sleep around, and she didn’t know what to expect now from Mick or even from herself. At least she didn’t have to face him right away.

How did she feel about what had happened the night before? She really wasn’t sure. Okay, over the past months they’d shared a couple of kisses. Two, to be precise. On separate occasions. Not exactly a steamy start. She had a lot of questions about him too—why was he so unambitious? He could be doing more with his life, so why wasn’t he?

Maura, are you hung up on ambition? She didn’t really have any herself, other than to earn enough to live simply and maybe have some control of her own life. The answer to that wish had kind of dropped into her lap when she’d inherited the pub and the house. But when Helen and her crew had waltzed in and more or less offered to make Sullivan’s bigger and better, she’d balked. That wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to be a corporate player. She didn’t want to be her mother.

But what did she want? A day ago, she would have said she didn’t want anything. She didn’t want to depend on a man for her livelihood—especially given Helen’s example. And speaking of her mother’s example, a baby was nowhere in her sights, so she wouldn’t find herself in the same trap.

The pub was now clean, but Maura still had no answers. It was almost noon, and Sullivan’s would open in half an hour to welcome those members of the church crowd who weren’t rushing home for a big Sunday dinner with the family. Mick would be taking Bridget home before he showed up, so she had one more small reprieve before she had to face him. But she should tell Rose and Jimmy and even Old Billy about Helen in case they thought she was going nuts. She looked up to see Rose opening the front door, followed by Jimmy with his usual sour expression.

“You all right, Maura?” Rose asked as she hung up her coat on a hook behind the bar. “Yeh looked a bit off yesterday.”

“I’m fine, Rose, but thanks for noticing. Morning, Jimmy,” Maura added, which produced a grunt from him. “Mick was going to take his grannie to Mass, so he’ll be in a bit late.”

“I think we can manage.” Rose smiled at her. “The farmers are busy movin’ their cattle back to pasture, so it shouldn’t be a big crowd.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t know much about cow schedules.”

“You’ve some herds up yer way, have yeh not?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I’m not usually there by daylight, so I don’t pay attention unless there’s a cow in the road in front of me.”

“Yeh’ve cleaned up the place,” Rose observed after taking a look around. “I’d’ve done that fer yeh.”

“I got in early.”

“Anythin’ new on the death of that man over at the fancy hotel?” Jimmy asked. Trust him to be looking for the gossip.

“Not that I know about,” Maura told him. “What’s it to you?”

“People ask when they come fer their pint. I like to be able to give them somethin’ to talk about.”

“Well, you’ll probably know as soon as I do. Have you and Judith set a date yet?” Maura asked, changing the subject quickly to distract him.

“Her herd’s calving season’s about done, so she’s pushin’ for soon now.” Jimmy looked glum at the prospect. Maura wondered if Rose would be joining them on Judith’s farm or if she’d grab the chance to strike out on her own. But she wasn’t going to ask in front of Jimmy. She’d find a quiet moment with Rose and find out.

It was still too early for customers, so she could afford to step away for a minute. “Listen, I need to tell you something. You’re probably going to hear it soon enough, so I might as well share it with you now. Helen Jenkins, the woman who was in here with the Crann Mor people the other day, turns out to be my mother.”

“Get on wit’ yeh,” Rose said, her accent thickening as she responded quickly. “I thought she was gone?”

“Yes, but not as in dead. She disappeared when I was two, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since until this week.”

“What’s she doin’ here now?”

“She works for the group that bought the hotel, but I guess she may have been looking for me. Kind of late.”

“Ah, Maura, she’s yer ma, and she’s come back. Surely yeh’re happy about that?” Rose demanded.

“I don’t know yet. It’s kind of complicated, and we haven’t had much time to talk. She worked for the man who died, so the gardaí want her to stay around for a couple of days until they sort that out. I guess we’ll have a chance to talk when they’re done.”

Unexpectedly, Rose threw herself at Maura and hugged her hard. “I’m happy fer yeh, I am. I’d give a lot to see me ma again.” Then Rose let go, looking flustered. “So that’s why yeh were in a state yesterday?”

“Yeah. It was a surprise, for sure.”

“Will the hotel project go on?” Jimmy asked abruptly. “Now that the boss is dead?”

“Jimmy, I don’t think anyone has thought that far ahead. You’ll just have to wait to find out like the rest of us.”

“So we’re done here?” Jimmy asked abruptly.

Maura stifled her annoyance. “Yes, Jimmy, you can go back to work now.” He didn’t notice the sarcasm in her voice as he left the back room.

In a low voice, Rose asked, “Does Mick know?”

“He does. I told him . . . last night.”

“Ah,” Rose said. “I’d best set up the bar, then.”

Opening time finally arrived, along with a couple of men who had been waiting outside. Rose went behind the bar and started pulling pints for them. Maura spotted Billy as he slipped in and headed for his usual seat.

She caught Rose’s eye and nodded toward him. “I’m going to go say hi to Billy.” She went over to where Billy was settled in his usual seat next to the fire. It might’ve been spring outside, but the old stone building took a long time to warm up, and the fire felt good. The chair on the other side was empty, so Maura dropped into it. “Hey, Billy, how are you? Ready for a pint?”

“I’m grand, Maura, and I’d welcome a pint about now.”

Maura signaled to Rose behind the bar, and she nodded.

“Big doin’s over at Skibbereen, I hear,” Billy went on.

“Yes, there are. The gardaí are calling it a suspicious death, until the coroner says otherwise.”

“So the others from the States are stayin’ around ’til it’s settled?”

“So it seems.”

“Includin’ that nice older woman who came along wit’ them?”

Maura turned to study Billy’s face. Did he know something? But how or why would he? Or did all older Irish people develop psychic powers? “I think so. Why are you asking, Billy?”

He watched her face as he said calmly, “There was something about the lady that seemed familiar.”

Maura shook her head but had to smile. In a village this small, there was no keeping a secret, although Billy could be discreet. “And why would that be, Billy?”

“I was in a good place to watch the two of yeh together. It’s plain to see, although I don’t know the whys and wherefores of her bein’ here.”

Maura sighed. “Okay, fine. She’s my mother, the one who dumped me on my grandmother when I was a toddler and went off to seek her fortune. Which it looks like she found. So maybe now she’s feeling guilty.”

“Irish, is she?”

“Her maiden name was Lafferty, but I don’t think her family comes from around here. Lots of Irish people in Boston, Billy.”

“Will yeh be seein’ her again?”

“Probably. I’ve got a lot of questions. But I’m still mad at her.”

“That’s yer right, fer now, but don’t let it stand in yer way. She’s family, like it or not.”

Maura sighed. “And that’s what I told her. Around here, family matters, whether or not you like the people.”

“Did she have any part in this death?”

“Billy, I really don’t know. She says she has no reason to wish the man dead, and I can’t see why she would.”

“Will yeh promise to listen to what she has to say to yeh?”

“Of course I will, Billy.”

Rose delivered Billy’s pint, and Maura went back to the bar to serve the growing crowd. Cows or not, a suspicious death seemed to draw people to the pub, which she had learned the hard way.

Mick walked in shortly before one. “I took Bridget over to the church. She’s met with a friend, and he’ll bring her along after. I’ll see her home then, if that’s no problem.”

Maura swallowed and looked up at him, trying to keep her expression neutral. “Sure, that’s fine. Rose was just telling me the crowd should be smaller today because the farmers are moving the cattle around.”

“Right so,” he said but kept his gaze on her face, although his expression gave nothing away.

Or did she see a small smile? Odd—Mick rarely smiled. And not usually at her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Rose turn quickly away, but not before Maura had seen a smile on her face too. So much for keeping secrets. Was she that obvious?

She slid behind the bar, and Mick followed. “Yeh’re all right?” he asked quietly when nobody was paying attention.

“About . . . yesterday? Yeah, I think so.” She couldn’t think of anything more to say.

Mick smiled and turned to the next customer, making change for him when he paid for his pint.

Well, that certainly cleared things up, Maura thought.

A few minutes later, Maura watched Gillian come in. She wasn’t waddling at this point; she moved more like a large ship, clearing everything out of her way before her. Old Billy stood up to offer his seat to her.

She sank into it with relief. Maura went over to her and asked, “Can I get you anything?”

“I’d give a lot to see my ankles again, but I suppose that’s not what you mean. Would you have any juice?”

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up. Where’s Harry? I’m surprised he lets you out of his sight these days. You could pop any minute now, right?”

“Feels that way. I know it’s Sunday, but Harry had a meeting set up with a possible client who was trying to fit in a round of golf at one of Cork’s splendid courses and couldn’t meet at any other time. No worries—he’s not far away, and he has his mobile with him should anything happen.”

“But?” Maura prompted.

“I worry about Harry more than myself. Me, I’ve plenty of friends who’ve had children. Even in Dublin, there’ve been nights when all the talk among us was about nappies and problems with finding reliable childminders. Harry hasn’t had that experience, and I think he’s terrified that I’ll break. Or that he’ll make a fool of himself during the delivery and spew all over the floor—or worse, the nurses. And that’s just the birthing part.”

“It’s amazing the human race has survived,” Maura said wryly. “I’ll go find you that juice.”

When Maura went looking behind the bar for some kind of drink, she noticed that Mick seemed to be avoiding looking at Gillian. “You think Harry’s going to get his act together for this baby?”

Mick muttered, “I hardly know the man.”

That was a non-answer. “But do you think he could do it if he wanted? If it mattered enough to him?”

“He might do,” Mick said curtly.

Maura picked up a bottle of orange juice and a clean glass, then went over to where Gillian was sitting and snagged a chair. “Here you go. Are you really okay?”

Gillian’s face tightened, and she laid a hand on her belly. “I think so. Harry’s trying so hard. It’s sweet. But neither of us has a clue what we’re doing, and reading about it isn’t much use. But we should be able to work it out. Anyway,” Gillian said, cocking one eyebrow, “you and Mick, huh?”

Crap. So much for secrets. “I could say something stupid like ‘What do you mean?’ but that’s not going to work, is it? Who blabbed?”

Gillian smiled. “Ah, Maura, I only had to look at you now to know that there’s something different about the two of you together. Is it what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want to do, Gillian. But you have to know that it was kind of wrapped up with something else that happened yesterday.”

“Are you going to fill me in?” She took a sip of her juice but kept her gaze on Maura over the rim of the glass.

“Did you hear about the people over at Crann Mor, who seem to be part of the management team that bought it this past year?”

Gillian looked bewildered for a moment but evidently decided to roll with it. “Harry heard something. He was wondering if they were going to stick around and if they might have need of his services locally. He knows a bit about their Dublin hotel. Of course, that was before the death. Is this about that?”

Maura sighed. “Not exactly. It seems that one of the management team members who came with them is my mother.”