Flawless (21 page)

Around three thirty, Kevin came in. He assured her that Bobby was stable and his vital signs were good. A new nurse, Molly, was on duty, and she had been more forthcoming than steely-eyed Nurse Emily.

“Did he open his eyes again?” Kieran asked her brother.

He shook his head. “Maybe he's waiting for you,” he said, smiling.

“I'm going to stay there tonight,” Kieran said.

“I figured. I'll be there early in the morning,” he told her.

She said goodbye to Declan and the others, then noted that Mr. Krakowsky was still there and that Jimmy McManus—minus Gary Benton, thank heavens—was at the bar.

Kevin saw her out and safely into a cab.

When she returned to Bobby's room, an officer she hadn't met yet was on duty, as well as the new nurse. The officer seemed aware that she was coming and rose to open the door to Bobby's room for her. She thanked him as she entered.

Danny was in a chair beside the bed, holding one of Bobby's hands and apparently dozing. He heard her arrival, though, and blinked and yawned, then smiled at her.

“Any news?” she asked.

“No news is good news,” he told her. “They took him out for some scans a bit ago. One of the doctors will be back in soon.”

She nodded and took up a seat across the bed from her brother, taking Bobby's other hand and squeezing it lightly.

Nothing at first.

Then she was certain she felt a slight squeeze in return.

“Everything okay at the pub?” Danny asked her softly.

“Yes,” she said, then hesitated. She wanted to talk to him openly, wanted to tell him what Simon Krakowsky had told her.

But she didn't want to have that conversation over the body of a friend who was fighting for his life.

“Yes, everything is fine,” she said. “I guess we should be quiet and let Bobby rest, huh?”

“No, the doctor who came in before they took Bobby out for his scan—Dr. Huang—told me that we should talk all we want, to each other and to Bobby.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he might hear us on some level, and it might help draw him back to consciousness.”

“Oh, well...great.”

She still didn't want to talk about the pub, though.

“So how was your day?” she asked him. “How was your tour group?”

“Fantastic,” he said. “A bunch of college kids. It always seems so strange to me that people come to New York City to shop or go to Broadway shows, but they never come downtown. They don't see Trinity and St. Paul's. They have no clue that the Dutch settled New Amsterdam in 1609 and that the English didn't take over the colony until 1664. They don't know that the British held the city during much of the Revolution, or even that it was the capital for a while. They know nothing about Washington being here, about—” Danny stopped abruptly and gave her a wry smile. “Sorry. I just love this city so much.”

Kieran grinned. “I love the city, too, Danny.”

“Of course you do.” He sighed. “I'll never get rich, of course. Leading tours. But I truly love it, and I hope I get to do it forever.”

“Of course you do. And you know every little nook and cranny of it, too,” she said.

Her own words suddenly disturbed her.

Yes, her brother knew the city. Knew every neighborhood, every street and every alley.

She was immediately furious with herself. Her brother was no killer.

“Our building has been there since 1833,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Built as office space, a landmark back then at four floors. And a Finnegan opened the first pub there in 1845.”

“We're remarkable,” she said, smiling.

She felt Bobby squeeze her hand and quickly looked down at him.

His eyes were open, and he was looking at her again. She thought that his lips even twitched into an almost-smile.

He spoke, his words raspy and barely a whisper on the air.

She couldn't make them out and looked over at Danny, a question in her eyes.

He smiled. “He said we should keep talking.”

Bobby's eyes fluttered shut. She could have sworn that almost-smile was still there, though.

“So, who are you taking where tomorrow?” she asked.

As Danny rattled on about his plans for the next day, she half listened.

And half worried.

* * *

“Everyone looks pretty normal to me,” Mike said.

Craig lowered his head, grinning. His partner looked anything but normal himself, with his neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and green contact lenses.

“They
are
normal,” Craig said. He was watching Krakowsky. The older man had stayed at his table by the bar all day, and he didn't seem about to leave.

Then again, he and Mike were still there, too.

It had taken just about all his resolve not to get up and leave when Kieran did. He was afraid, he realized, of her even being on the street alone.

Which was unreasonable, he knew.

He and Mike had watched customers come and go—or come and stay—throughout the day, many of them people they'd seen on previous visits.

He'd overheard snatches of Kieran's conversation with Mr. Krakowsky, and he was more convinced than ever that both sets of thieves had been here, either to share information or pilfer it.

As the afternoon wore on into evening, they saw many if not most of the pub's regulars. The man who had been with Gary Benton—he heard Declan greet him as Jimmy McManus—was there with friends, luckily not including Gary. They sat where they could see one of the screens and watched a college baseball game.

“I thought your girlfriend had us pegged there for a moment,” Mike said.

“My what?”

“Kieran. When she walked by, I thought she was about to ask us what the hell we thought we were doing. She would have figured it out if she hadn't left.”

“Maybe.”

“What was that accent you were doing, anyway? Slavic-Hispanic?” Mike teased.

“My best Romanian,” Craig said. Then he went still.

“Krakowsky has company,” he said.

“Oh?” Mike murmured, turning his head surreptitiously.

It was Harry Belvedere.

The two men hugged in greeting. Then Belvedere sat down, and the two talked quietly, leaning in head to head.

“Probably commiserating,” Mike said.

Craig nodded. “Comparing notes on being robbed?”

“Not much to compare. Krakowsky got back his jewels and no one was hurt. Belvedere lost his best pieces, and worse, a woman was killed.”

“The point is,” Craig said quietly, “they're here together now, so the odds are they've been here together before. And I'm betting
both
groups of thieves have been here, too.”

“Awfully coincidental that they were apparently all here at the same time. Think our bad guys could have been tipped off by someone near and dear to the pub?” Mike asked.

Craig shot him an unreadable look, then started to rise.

“We're leaving?” Mike asked.

“I think we've found out everything we can here, at least for now. And I'm more and more convinced that Maria Antonescu, intentionally or otherwise, abetted the robbery that led to her own murder. We have to ID the guy she was dating, her secret lover.”

“And we're going to find him by...?”

“Actually, I think he's here. Maybe not here right now, but I think he's someone we've seen in here before. We need to change clothes and head back to Clean Cut Office Services.”

Mike groaned. “It's Saturday. You really think Ms. Mannerly is going to be there?”

Craig nodded. “I do, because I'm going to call her and tell her to meet us there. Though there's another stop I want to make first.” He signaled for their check. Julie handed it to him with a smile and not even a whiff of suspicion.

Not bad, Craig thought, for a guy who hadn't gone undercover in years.

“Hey,” Mike said, just as Craig was laying down money for their bill. He nodded toward the door.

They both stood there as assistant director Richard Eagan walked in and headed straight past them to the bar.

Craig and Mike stared at each other in surprise, but they managed to contain their laughter until they were out on the sidewalk.

* * *

Toward midnight, Kieran made Danny leave.

After all, he had a tour to lead in the morning.

He protested at first, but she finally convinced him that she was just fine. She was in a busy hospital, and a cop was sitting right outside Bobby's door.

Once he was gone, she watched Bobby hopefully, looking for signs of returning consciousness. She hadn't understood everything Dr. Huang had said, but the overall prognosis was good. There was no water building up on Bobby's brain, and the swelling was going down.

It was about thirty minutes after Danny left that Bobby opened his eyes, looked at Kieran and smiled.

“Angel,” he said.

She flushed. “Oh, Bobby. Please. You know me well enough to know I'm no angel.”

He started to say something, but she could see it was an effort for him.

“I don't think you should be talking too much. I'm just so glad you're awake. You really took a wallop on the head. Did you see who did it?” she asked anxiously.

He winced. “A large cemetery cherub with a bat? Ah, lass, no. I was walking—sober as can be, you know that—and suddenly it felt like I was flying. Except that I was scraping stone. And there was a big man there, aye, a big man. I'm pretty sure he was dark haired, but it was a chilly night. He might have been wearing some kind of a cape. You know—like Dracula.” He was quiet for a moment. “He wasn't alone, either. Someone said, ‘He's a goner, and I never even got to ask him,' and I don't think you'd say that unless you were talking to someone else. So...did they rob me blind?”

She shook her head. “They didn't take anything, Bobby.”

“They didn't, eh?”

She couldn't tell whether he was surprised or not.

As if to himself, he murmured, “What do they think I know?”

“What are you talking about, Bobby? Who are ‘they'?”

He shook his head. “I don't know. But they must have been there in the pub at some point that night, and they must have been after something more valuable than my wallet. I remember old Krakowsky—you know, Gary's boss—bragging about his new shipment of stones. There were a bunch of jewelers in there that day. They thought they were so discreet, but I sit at the bar and I hear a lot. But,” he added, “not enough, I think.”

Kieran heard footsteps in the hall and looked up to see Craig standing outside the room with Mike, speaking with the policeman guarding the door.

Bobby suddenly gripped her wrist in a fierce hold, shockingly strong for his condition.

She turned to look at him. His features were tense.

“Don't tell them anything, not yet. You can say I've opened my eyes a few times. I'm not ready to talk, do you understand? I'm not ready.”

Bobby's grip fell away as he relaxed his features and closed his eyes.

Seconds later special agent Craig Frasier walked in.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

CRAIG LEFT MIKE
in the hall, talking to the officer there, as he entered the room. The latest report was that Bobby O'Leary had yet to reach full consciousness, though the doctors said things were going well.

Kieran was sitting by the old man's bed, her fingers curled around his hand where it lay on the covers. She was leaning down, resting her head on the bars of the bed, as if she had been resting. He saw that she was sitting in a chair that could fold down into a bed, and something told him that she was planning to use it, stay for the night, keep her eye on Bobby and hold his hand.

“Anything?” he asked her softly.

Her long dark auburn hair seemed especially vibrant tonight, falling over the white sheet. She lifted her head, and her eyes were especially blue in the harsh lighting.

“I think he's doing well. The doctor said there's no sign of water building up on his brain, no swelling.” She glanced down at Bobby, and Craig thought she sounded a little uneasy when she spoke again. “He's opened his eyes a few times, but it never lasts.”

“Good to hear. I've been calling in all day, but all I got was ‘no change, stable condition.' I'm really hoping he's going to be able to help us out.”

“Do you think he saw anything?” she asked. “If he was attacked from behind...”

“He may still be able to tell us something. Even if he couldn't see his attacker, he might have noticed something. Like the scent of soap or aftershave,” Craig said. “Or maybe he heard something, his attacker's voice, the way he breathed...something. You never know. All we can do for now is hope.”

“It was probably some random thing,” Kieran said. “Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Or it might have been someone who knew he spent his days in the pub and thought he might have heard something or know something,” Craig said.

“Do you really think so?” Kieran asked. “It seems strange that...that someone would go to such lengths to attack Bobby, of all people. I still think it was a robbery like—”

“Nothing was taken.”

“Maybe the mugger was interrupted. Maybe a taxi went by, or even a cop car.”

She sounded defensive, Craig thought. And that wasn't good.

“Kieran, don't you want this solved—no matter what?” he asked her.

“Of course!”

The door opened, and a nurse walked in. She looked Craig up and down and nodded—with approval, he hoped—and then turned to Kieran. “Honey, you want some bedding for that chair?”

“It's not necessary.”

“You might as well. You need to sleep, and we have monitors all over Mr. O'Leary. If anything happens, we'll know at the nurses' station.”

“In that case, thank you,” Kieran said.

The nurse left, and Craig smiled at Kieran. “I figured you'd be staying,” he said softly.

“Of course.”

“Listen, we really need to talk to him, and as quickly as possible,” Craig said. “You'll call me if he wakes up and is coherent?”

She didn't look at him as she nodded.

“Well, then,” he said softly. “I'll see you in the morning.”

She still didn't look up.

Because she was lying to him. He knew it. What he didn't know was why.

Or just what, exactly, she was lying to him about.

* * *

Kieran wasn't sure if Bobby O'Leary was still faking it at that point or if he was really out of it again.

Whichever, he didn't speak anymore that night.

Molly brought sheets, a pillow and a blanket, and Kieran did her best to settle in and sleep for the night.

Time seemed to tick by very slowly as she found herself unable to sleep. She lay there and thought about everything that had happened. She wondered what Craig knew that he wasn't telling her.

She worried about Daniel.

He would
never
kill anyone.

But was he involved, even unwittingly?

When she wasn't worrying, she was remembering the events of two nights ago.

Thinking about Craig.

Every time she should have backed away, she'd been incapable of doing so. She genuinely cared about him.

Or was it pure physical attraction?

Something in the underlying scent of his skin that sent her mind reeling and made everything else in her ache with longing?

Angry with herself, she groaned, then tossed and turned and finally caught a few minutes' sleep every so often, waking up every time a member of the medical staff came in.

At seven, when she woke up for good, she was surprised to see someone peeking in the door, and it wasn't one of her brothers or even Mary Kathleen. Julie had come.

“Hey,” Julie whispered softly, tiptoeing in. “How are you doing? How's Bobby doing?”

“Well, I think,” Kieran whispered, trying to get her “bed” back into chair mode as quietly as possible. She almost managed it, but the sheets got tangled in the mechanism and she had to start over. “Sorry, Julie, just give me a minute here. There's a chair on the other side of the bed, if you want to sit down.”

She finally righted her chair, bundling the sheets to the side. When she turned, Julie was holding Bobby's hand, Bobby was awake and they were both grinning at her.

“Bobby!” Kieran said. “You're good?”

“Ah, why does everyone misuse that word? If I said I was, it would mean I was without sin, or maybe out there in the world doing something good for someone. Now, am I well? Yes, feeling much better, lass, especially knowing you were there beside me, watching over me during the night. Thank you.” He turned to Julie. “And you, too, of course.”

“I just got here,” Julie said with a grin. “You have to give me some time to do some
good
.”

Bobby's smile faded slightly, but he forced it back into place. “Where are those wretched doctors? When are they going to let me out of here?”

“Bobby! You're in critical care, so you're not going anywhere right now,” Kieran told him firmly.

“They have any decent food around here?” he asked.

“I'm not sure if you're allowed to have food yet,” Kieran said.

“No food? Now how will I be healing without something substantial in me belly, eh?”

“There's good stuff running through that IV line,” Kieran said.

“I'll go out and ask about breakfast,” Julie said.

“Now that, my lass, would be doing a body some
good
!”
he said.

When Julie left the room, he turned to Kieran, and spoke swiftly and fiercely. “I'll tell those coppers what happened when I walked down the street, but don't you repeat anything else I said. I'll call you a liar, do you understand me? You're not to repeat anything I said.”

“Bobby, if you know something—if someone at the pub has been threatening you or anyone else in any way—we have to tell the cops, and the FBI, too,” Kieran said.

“If I actually knew something, don't you think I'd say so and have the bastards locked up?” Bobby asked, staring at her very seriously. “Lass, I'm an old man, alone in some ways but not in others. Wife gone, never blessed with wee ones, and I can't even be having me a pint o' stout now and then, but I
like
living. I
love
my life.
I think someone out there thinks I've heard things I shouldn't. Thing is, I don't know what I've heard. Don't know why they didn't shoot me, except that wouldn't look much like a mugging now, would it? Stupid bastards forgot to steal my wallet, though.” He pointed a finger at her. “I'll be talking to Declan. Meanwhile, don't you be in that pub alone. Don't any of you be in there alone.”

He had her curious, but also frightened, really frightened.

She couldn't ask him anything more, though, because at that moment, Julie walked back in.

“Liquids,” she said.

“What?” Kieran asked blankly.

“Bobby, they're starting you on liquids. Clear liquids,” Julie said.

“Liquids, eh?” Bobby said. “That's something, I guess.”

“The nurses are changing shifts right now, but there's a lovely aide who's going to come in soon with apple juice. You hold that down and you get broth, and if that goes well...Jell-O. And then maybe you get to eat.”

“Our Sweet Lady Mother and Jesus be praised,” Bobby said. “Broth, did you say? Why, my mouth is just watering already.”

“Behave,” Kieran told him. “You'll drink your apple juice first and love it, and then we'll talk about broth.”

“Aye, Miss Finnegan,” Bobby said. “Whatever you say.”

Julie had been standing with her hands behind her back. Now she produced a cup with a spoon in it. “I brought you ice chips,” she told him.

They all laughed.

“Maybe juice won't be so bad,” he muttered, once his dry, cracked lip had been soothed.

A new nurse came in, Jarrod, tall and fit, with a quick smile and easy manner. He was pleased to see that Bobby was doing so well. He was there to take Bobby for another scan, but he expected positive results, given how alert Bobby was.

Bobby told the nurse about his desire for a Danish.

“If all goes well, you can have one in a few hours. Ice chips were good?”

“As sweet as me Sainted Mother's tit,” Bobby said.

Jarrod grinned, glancing at Kieran and Julie, then left, telling them that Officer Clayton was on duty outside the room and would be happy to know Bobby was doing so well.

Bobby's smile faded the minute the three of them were alone in the room again. “I suppose the lawmen will be here any minute with their questions. Aye, and that's fine. I'm up to talking now.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the door opened. An aide was there with a plastic pitcher of ice water and a glass of apple juice. She warned Bobby to drink slowly.

The minute she was gone, Officer Clayton walked in, a nice young guy in his early twenties, and told Bobby how happy he was to see him doing so well.

As soon as he left, Julie said, “I guess everyone is hoping you can help catch the guys who hurt you, Bobby.”

“Don't you think that I'd like them caught?” Bobby asked softly.

A technician came and rolled Bobby down for the promised scan; Julie and Kieran stayed in the room, looking worriedly at each other.

“This is really terrifying,” Julie told Kieran.

“Yes,” Kieran said, wondering if Julie suspected that Finnegan's was somehow connected to the jewelry store robberies.

Julie leaned forward. “Kieran, you be careful. You're always coming and going at odd hours, and you never think to be afraid, no matter how late it is.”

“I'll be careful. We all will.”

Julie's eyes brightened. “Not to mention now you've got an FBI guy in your corner.”

“What?”

“Oh, Kieran, please. Maybe you two think you're acting cool, but there's something in the air when you're together. Something good. Are you sleeping with him yet?” She read the truth in Kieran's eyes. “Oh! You
are
sleeping with him. Don't look as if you just ate a pack of peppers. I'm not judging.”

Julie stopped speaking. Her eyes had wandered to the door. Kieran looked in that direction, too.

She wished she could crawl under Bobby's hospital bed.

Craig was back, and Mike was with him.

If such a thing as spontaneous combustion existed, Kieran was pretty sure it would have happened to her at that moment. She felt as if she was burning up and knew her face must be an unbecoming shade of crimson.

Mike was one good guy, she realized. He was pretending that they hadn't heard a thing, though she knew that both men must have heard at least the tail end of Julie's speech.

“Good morning, Kieran, Julie,” Mike said. “We were relieved when we heard that Bobby is doing so well.”

“He's out for a scan,” Julie said quickly.

“Yes,” Craig said. “We heard from the officer outside.” His eyes turned to regard Kieran. They were frost blue, betraying nothing. “Why don't you two go down and get some coffee, maybe even breakfast?” he suggested. “Detective Mayo is going to be joining us in a minute, and we need to talk to Bobby when he comes back.”

Julie was instantly on her feet. “Oh, yes, coffee,” she said, a little too much enthusiasm in her voice.

Kieran stood. “Of course,” she said.

She had to walk past Craig. He was the epitome of an FBI agent, crisp and clean in his dark blue suit. As she got closer, she realized that he must have showered recently, because his hair was still damp. She wanted to reach out and run her hands down the fabric of his suit or trace the freshly shaved contours of his face.

She managed to flee the room quickly, Julie at her heels.

“I'm so, so sorry about embarrassing you that way,” Julie said.

“It's all right,” Kieran said.

“I still feel terrible. And now his partner knows, too. I hope I didn't get him in trouble.”

“It's all right,” Kieran repeated. “Really.”

“But it's true, right?” Julie said. “You
are
sleeping with him.”

They were standing in front of the elevators, surrounded by both visitors and staff, and Julie wasn't exactly whispering. Embarrassed, Kieran said, “Julie, keep it down. Please.”

“Sorry,” Julie said, lowering her voice. “It's just that being in the middle of a divorce, I guess I'm living vicariously through you. The way he's built, is he like that...everywhere?”

“Julie!” Kieran protested again as they stepped into an elevator with a half dozen other people.

Julie grinned and made a motion that indicated she was zipping her lips.

On the ground floor, they headed for the cafeteria. Kieran realized that she'd spent half of yesterday at Finnegan's with a chef who worked wonders with every dish he created and she hadn't eaten a thing. She'd been in such an emotional whirl that the thought hadn't occurred to her.