The Delaney Woman (29 page)

“Da and I don't want to live together,” Claire explained patiently.

“I don't want you to live somewhere else. I want us all to live here.”

I do, too
. The words leaped into her mind. She caught them before they were out. “That isn't possible. Your da and I are divorcing.”

“What's that?”

“People who were once married decide not to live together anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because they're different and the other person makes them unhappy.”

“I don't know anyone who is divorced.”

“Neither do I, but that doesn't mean it isn't happening. People make mistakes when they're young and then they wish themselves back to the place where they were before the mistake was made. Surely you've made a mistake before and wished it never happened.”

Heather nodded. “I wished I'd never given Christina Murray my Henrietta doll. I wanted it back and she wouldn't give it to me.”

Claire hid a smile. “Well, there, you see. You do understand about mistakes.”

“I think so,” Heather said slowly. She looked at her mother. “What about me? Am I a mistake?”

“Of course not,” Claire gasped, horrified.
Lord, deliver me from intelligent children
. “You are the best thing in the world. Think how sad Da and I would be without you.”

Again Heather nodded. “That's what Da says. I just wanted to be sure.”

Relieved, Claire closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“You aren't going away again, are you?”

Claire reached out and drew her child's slight body into her arms. “No, love. I won't go away again, not like the last time.”

R
ain slanted against the roof of the ferry, running down the windows, washing clean the deck, forcing all but the most seasick passengers to take refuge inside the cabin. Gusts of wind moaned, waves crested and the deck tilted at an alarming angle, making it impossible for the kitchen to serve tea and its renowned oxtail soup. It was an intense storm and the ferry was behind schedule. Kellie shivered and burrowed down inside her jacket.

She must have slept because she didn't remember the man sliding into the seat beside her. He sat with his arms folded against his chest and the hood of his parka pulled low over his face. She yawned and would have closed her eyes again when he slipped off the hood, turned to her and spoke.

“It's lovely to see you again, Kellie.”

Speechless, Kellie turned to look at Dennis McGarrety. She was sure her heart had stopped pumping blood to her arms and legs because, try as she might, she couldn't move them.

“Don't say a word, lass. I've something to tell you.”

She waited, paralyzed with fear.

He smiled. “Good girl. This ferry will dock in less than an hour. You'll come with me. Don't try anything foolish, Kellie, lass, or the wee girl will be hurt.”

Kellie wet her lips. “What wee girl?”

“Why, Heather Whelan of course.”

“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered. Her words sounded polite, vacant, as if she were asking for milk for her tea.

McGarrety shook his head. “I've no taste for murder anymore, although I've done my share in the past. But there are those who don't mind so much. I leave it to them.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You're my ticket out of Ireland, Kellie Delaney, the only one I've got. I want a new passport and free passage to the States, and you're going to make sure I get them.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“We'll take your car and drive to County Clare where I've a house near the sea. From there I'll notify the authorities.”

The question had to be asked. “What if you don't get what you want?”

“That isn't an option.”

“What if they say no? What if I'm not important enough to allow you to get away?”

“Then it will be up to Tom. It will be Tom Whelan who has the final aye or nay.”

“I don't understand.”

“You don't have to understand, Kellie, love. Just do as I say.”

“What if I won't do it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What if I won't go with you? Will you shoot me here on the ferry, in front of everyone?”

“No, lass,” he said softly. “I wouldn't do that. I'd simply place a call to Banburren and the wee lass, Heather Whelan, will have her throat cut.”

Kellie gasped and whitened.

McGarrety smiled. “Now, then. Are we agreed that you'll come with me without commotion?”

Kellie nodded. “I'll do whatever you ask. Please just don't hurt Heather.”

“Not if it can be helped,” he said and looked out the window. “The storm's settled itself. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

Heather waved goodbye to her friend and turned the corner toward home. Ahead of her the street was empty. She frowned. Where was Mam? She was supposed to meet her near the bakery. Shrugging off her disappointment, she quickened her pace. Mam was always late. Heather would run home and surprise her at the gate.

A shadow crossed her path and then a large man stepped in front of her. “Hello, Heather,” he said.

Heather looked at the man doubtfully. She'd never seen him before on her walk home, and she'd been told not to talk to strangers. “Hello.”

He smiled. “Your da had to go away for a bit. He wants me to take you home.”

She brightened. “My mam is supposed to come for me. She's staying with my granny. Will you take me there?”

“Aye. That's exactly where I'll be taking you, to your mam who's staying with your granny.” He picked up her school bag and held out his hand. “Come along now.”

She slipped her hand inside his. “What's your name?”

“Cohn,” he said.

“How do you know my da?”

“We worked together a long time ago, before you were born.”

Heather skipped along beside him until the village was behind them. When they passed the bend in the road that led to Susan's house, Heather stopped and looked around. “This isn't the way.”

“I'm taking a shortcut. We'll be there faster.”

“But you're going the wrong way.”

“It will be faster.” He smiled. “You'll see. Trust me.”

Heather tugged at his hand. Something was wrong. “I want to go the other way.”

The man's smile faded. “We're going this way.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. He wouldn't let go of her hand. “I don't like you. I'm not going with you.”

“Heather?” Claire's voice, frantic, called out from behind them. “What's going on? What are you doing with my daughter?”

Immediately, Heather was lifted off the ground. A hand was clamped across her mouth. The man began to run.

“Wait.” Claire shouted. She chased after them. Fear lent her speed. “Please, wait.”

Heather began to kick and squirm. The hand slipped across her mouth, freeing her lip. She bit down, hard, drawing blood. “Mam, Mam, please help,” she screamed.

Cursing, the man pulled his torn flesh from Heather's teeth, slowed and waited for Claire to catch up. He was strong and fast, but no match for a struggling child and a desperate woman.

Panting, Claire stopped directly in front of him, her eyes on Heather's face. She forced herself to speak calmly. “Colin, what are you doing?”

“I need to borrow your daughter for a bit,” he said, still struggling to keep hold of the squirming child.

“What do you want?” Claire demanded.

The man hesitated. Everyone would know soon enough. “McGarrety needs a hostage until he's given safe passage to America. I won't harm the lass. When McGarrety is safe, I'll bring her home.”

Claire stepped forward. “Then take me,” she said. “Leave my daughter, for God's sake. You know me. I keep my word. I kept it for seven years in Maidenstone. I'll come with you willingly. Let the child go.”

He hesitated. Blood flowed from the bite. A grown woman who was willing and who knew the stakes would be easier to manage than a child. And she was Tom Delaney's wife. Tom wouldn't want her harmed.

Colin thought hard. He didn't usually make decisions like this. If only he could check with someone. But that wasn't possible. Carefully, he set Heather on her feet. She ran to her mother and clung to her waist. Claire held her close.

“If you try to run away, he'll send someone else. You know that.” He nodded at Heather. “She'll never be safe.”

“I know, I know. I won't run away. I'll cooperate, just don't harm my daughter.” Claire knelt down and took Heather's face in her hands. “Heather, go to Gran's. Tell her what happened. She'll know what to do.”

“Are you coming with me?” Heather sobbed.

“No, love. I'm going with Colin. I have to go. He needs one of us. Do you understand?”

Heather shook her head and held on to her mother.

Claire set her away, keeping hold of her arms. “You must do as I say, Heather. Go home. Tell Gran and your da. Please.” Her voice cracked. “Go now.”

Heather broke free of her arms and ran back toward Banburren. Claire watched her for a minute and then forced herself to look away. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Sligo. We have a house there.”

Claire nodded. “I know it. Do you have a car?”

“Aye,” the man said. “It's parked around the bend.”

Heather lay on the floor curled into a fetal position, her thumb wedged tightly in her mouth, and stared at the telly. She hadn't said a word in more than two hours.

Susan was frightened. She had never seen the child so silent and still. She was nearly ready to pack her up and take her to the doctor. Tom was delivering a set of pipes to a man in Galway. She had no idea where Claire was, but she wasn't surprised at her lapse. Susan had little faith in her daughter-in-law's transformation. Mothering didn't come naturally to her. Claire was Claire, and sooner or later her real disposition would reveal itself.

“Can I fix you a bite to eat, love?” Susan asked the silent child.

Heather kept her eyes on the television and rocked her head back and forth.

Susan frowned, stepped over her granddaughter and turned off the television. “You'll answer me when I speak to you, Heather Whelan.”

Heather stared blankly at her grandmother.

Susan sat down on the floor, worked the offensive thumb out of the child's mouth and held both small hands in her own. “Tell your granny what's wrong, love. Did something happen at school?”

“No,” Heather whispered.

“Something must have happened,” Susan insisted. “I've never seen you look so sad.”

“Where's Da?” asked Heather.

Susan looked at the clock. It was nearly six o'clock. “He'll be home soon.” She kissed the little girl's cheek. “Will you tell him what's troubling you?”

Heather's eyes filled. She nodded.

Susan turned the television back on and settled Heather on the couch with a blanket. “I'll call him on the mobile phone and find out exactly where he is.” She walked into the kitchen and sighed with relief when she saw Tom's car pull up beside the house.

“Thank God you're here,” she said when he was inside.

“Where's Claire?” he asked looking around. “She was supposed to pick Heather up after school and stay with her until I came home.”

“I don't know where she is. Heather walked to my house after school and we came here to wait for you.”

“Thanks for staying with her, Mam. I didn't expect to be so long.”

“Something's wrong with the child, Tom.”

He frowned. “Is she ill?”

“I don't know, but she isn't acting like herself at all.”

The double ring of the telephone interrupted them. Tom answered it.

“Yes,” he said, “this is Tom Whelan.” A pause. “You're mistaken, Mr. Griffith. My daughter is here with me.” He looked at his mother and, holding the phone to his ear, walked into the sitting room to satisfy himself that Heather was home. “She's here watching the telly.” Another pause. His hand tightened on the phone. “I see.” He picked up a pencil and jotted something down on a pad of paper near the phone. Then he ripped the top sheet off and stuffed it into his pocket. “Yes. I'll be in touch,” he said before hanging up.

“What's the matter?” asked Susan.

“Dennis McGarrety has Kellie,” he said tersely. “He's asking for safe passage to America.”

“Dear God.” Susan's eyes were huge and terrified. “Will they give it to him?”

Tom shrugged back into his coat. “Griffith didn't say. Dennis told him one of his men had Heather.”

“That's ridiculous. Heather's here in your sitting room. Where are you going?” she asked, alarm in her voice.

“I have an idea where he's keeping Kellie.”

Susan grabbed his arm. “What can you do, Tom? More than likely the man is armed.”

“I'll think of something on the way.”

Heather leaned against the door frame and spoke around the thumb wedged firmly in her mouth. “Someone has Mam, too.”

Susan watched her son freeze up. It was odd, really, the way his limbs stiffened and all movement stopped. The silence in the room was absolute, shrouding the three of them in a private, ugly world.

Tom walked across the kitchen and knelt in front of his daughter. “Tell me what happened, love.”

“A man picked me up at school. He said his name was Colin. He said you wanted him to take me to Gran's. I liked him in the beginning but he went the wrong way. I told him I didn't want to go with him and then I heard Mam. She ran after me.”

“And then what happened?”

“He picked me up and ran, too, but I bit him. Then he put me down and we waited for Mam. She said for him to take her, not me.” Heather was crying now. “I told her I didn't want her to go with him, but she told me to run home and tell Gran.”

Susan lifted her hands. “All these hours and you said nothing. Why didn't you tell me, child?”

Heather shook her head. The tears were coming too quickly to wipe them away.

Tom drew his daughter into his arms. “It's all right, love. I'll take care of it. We'll get Mam back, and Kellie, too. Don't worry. Gran will stay with you.”

“Will Colin come back?”

“No, Heather,” Tom said firmly. “He won't be back.”

Susan stepped forward. “I'll take her. Go on now, and keep in touch.” She kissed his cheek and led Heather into the sitting room. “Choose a story, love, and I'll read it to you. We'll stay right here on the couch together.”

Tom waited until they'd left the room before picking up the phone. He pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket and punched in the number John Griffith had given him. The man answered immediately.

“Heather is here with me,” Tom said. “It is Claire Whelan, my wife, they have.”

Griffith's reply was brief. “Do you know where they might have taken her?”

“Aye.”

“Will you show me?”

“I'm going after Kellie, Mr. Griffith. McGarrety is the dangerous one. Colin Burke is the man with Claire. He won't harm her unless McGarrety gives him the order. Besides, Claire will know how to handle him. Meanwhile, I want protection for my mother and daughter. The RUC will act quickly on your orders.”

“I'll arrange it. Where shall I meet you?”

“There are several possibilities. If I were McGarrety, I'd stay as far away from Belfast as possible, but close to an airport.”