

## HARVEST

By

Ger. Conlan

Copyright 2014 Ger. Conlan

First Edition

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

cover art by Ivy Howard

## Chapter 1

The thick-set woman muttered to herself as she waddled awkwardly but with quiet determination up the eight steps leading to the entrance of Limerick's Henry Street Garda station. Beads of dampness glistened on her porcelain skinned forehead catching strands of soft black curls in the moisture. The exceptionally warm summer evening, a rarity in Ireland, which had the whole country in a state of sunburned bliss, was a contributing factor to her perspiring so much. In essence the main culprit of her excessive 'glowing' was the surplus weight she carried. There was a time, not so long ago she could have sprinted up these steps in a matter of seconds. Well, sprinted was probably an exaggeration, she was no athlete. Dashed? Maybe. But right now, reduced mobility, while inconvenient, was the very least of her worries. Clutched tightly in her hand was a recent photo of a young woman, and the reason for this trip. Once at the top step she paused to catch her breath all the while gently patting her massively pregnant tummy.

"We will find her my little one" she said softly "and when we do, I will give her a piece of my mind ...after I hug her...very tightly."

Inside the bustling police station, she reluctantly joined the inebriated, the rowdy and all manner of troubled people whose circumstances had culminated in them rubbing elbows in the narrow confines of the standing-only waiting area. Everyone faced the same direction waiting to reach the waist-high short wooden counter staffed by two gardai. She shuffled slowly forward trying desperately to ignore the odor of hygiene deficient bodies, alcohol soaked breath and general inner-city decay. It was six thirty in the evening and obviously rush hour for the Boys in Blue. One garda picked up the phone sending a code on the P.A. system and moments later two more officers joined their colleagues. It didn't take long before a pointed pen held between two fingers summoned her authoritatively to the wooden counter. She exhaled discreetly dreading what was to come but following the fingers obediently.

"Name?" The young, tired looking officer asked robotically after hearing the reason for her visit.

"Mags Thompson" she replied with a clear and well-articulated tone reflecting years of elocution lessons imposed by her upper-middle class family. _Electrocution_ lessons Mags had brazenly called them once to her mother; the cost of that folly was being signed up for another year of courses in addition to attending intensive etiquette class. The fun she had missed out on just to end up speaking and acting like a cast-off from My Fair Lady.Friends had been few and far between. It wasn't until she finished high school that life became more normal, for a while at least. Her current state, however, reflected nothing of that privileged background. She was perspiring heavily from a mixture of profound worry, stress and the exertion of remaining upright for forty minutes. Painful pins and needles stung her thighs, while damp spread along the back of her pink chiffon designer top.

"Mags?" he reiterated.

"Well it's short for Mawrgret," she said rolling her eyes "but if you write Mawrgret Thompson nobody will know it's me!"

Sweat trickled along her cheeks towards the edge of either jaw where it dripped lightly onto her chest. There wasn't a tissue in sight so she used her hands to wipe the excess moisture from her entire face including her eyes, completely forgetting about the mascara hurriedly applied hours earlier.

"Grand then, Mags Thompson it is" the officer said putting the name on the report with the same pride as Jerome having completed the Vulgate. When he turned his attention back to the woman he found her look had gone from dishevelled to raccoon-like.

"Ahm....right...and the person you're reporting missing is your sister, Ciara Madden?"

"And is that Ciara with a k or a C?"

"It's a C but a K-sounding C. Keer-a."

"Right then." He returned to his report, filling in more boxes.

"But you're Thompson?"

"Correct!" Mags said frustrated at the slow pace through which they were getting through this. She really needed to pee. "But nee Madden." He nodded silently while taking in her pale blue eyes which darted nervously about, her full cheeks flushed.

"And she was last seen?"

"Four days ago, exactly. So it's well past the mandatory forty eight hours to commence a search." The officer was struck by these words and looked intently at this strange woman. Through the smeared eyes, he recognized the anxious expression having seen it so many times before. Yet he wondered how she was aware of this standard course of action.

"You seem to be familiar with our procedure on missing persons."

"I am," she exhaled after a hesitant pause.

"So you know someone who went missing before?" A loud gulp fell in her throat.

"I do."

"Would I be right then in thinking that your sister has gone missing on a previous occasion?"

"You would."

"Recently?" Mags sighed heavily.

"It was years ago when she was only a teenager! She isn't anything like she used to be. She is a grown woman now, whose idea of having fun by the way is watching British comedies on DVD! I mean I just don't get how the Knights who say Ni can be funny after the fortieth time. Plus she dresses like bloody Maria Von Trap when she used to look like...well...adventurous!"

The nod and accompanying cynical look told her Ciara's file would be opened and scrutinized leading them to believe she had gone back to being a runaway.

"Wait here please, Ms. Thompson, I'll be back shortly."

Less than an hour later Mags exited the station fuming not only over the archaic attitude to her situation, but to the awful state she was in when finally catching a glimpse of herself in their toilet facilities. She looked ridiculous. No wonder they didn't take her pleadings to heart. While she tried to convince them of the urgency in finding Ciara they were questioning the possibility that her sibling had chosen to leave of her own volition. They even suggested she had been unable to tell her over-protective sister about an upcoming departure for fear of disapproval. Worst of all, they didn't appear to be in any particular hurry to even start enquiries. Everything she said had fallen on deaf ears. They tried to convince her that this sort of thing was not unusual behavior for a legally adult woman. Mags couldn't deny that Ciara's teenage years had passed more tumultuously than most and for that she was forever branded a trouble-making junkie, when nothing could be further from the truth. If anything, her younger sister had become the complete opposite. Mags would even describe her as being another person entirely. The conservative dress had replaced the hard core Goth menagerie; a penchant for anarchy was left behind for devotion to prayers, and binges that went on for days at a time were discarded for a strict almost punitive diet. In fact, Ciara displayed a total disinterest in general social life and friends making her a virtual recluse. Not that Mags wasn't grateful that Ciara remained on the band wagon. God knows it must be a daily struggle to stay clean and sober but admittedly she could see there was no fun in the lifestyle her sister chose to lead. The expression all or nothing came to mind with no happy medium to balance things out. Perhaps there could be no other option to fighting her addictions. Still she would take austere Ciara over wild Ciara any day. Mags honestly didn't know if she could handle seeing a relapse to the old lifestyle. Those terrible years were best forgotten. Mags had grown so used to calm, caring and dutiful Ciara who kept in regular contact throughout the day that her absence was unsettling.

Pausing at the bottom of the eight steps, Mags eased herself down onto the stone slab and took in a long deep breath. The warm evening air carried a heavenly breeze which helped lift the nausea, but not the heartache. Thinking in terms of a theatre play, Mags foresaw the upcoming delivery as a huge Broadway production and with only a week before opening-night a main cast member was MIA. There was no understudy to replace Ciara, not that anyone could. Disturbing images of what state her sister could be in pierced her heart. Her hands gripped tightly on both sides of her hair as waves of anguish pounded her chest.

"Where are you Sis?" she called out softly pleading to the night sky. "Come back please, I just can't do this without you." In their dysfunctional family where turmoil was a daily occurrence, Mags was always strong and even keeled - the crutch upon which others leaned. With a constantly absent father, they were left to the mercy of a mother who could be violent one minute and docile the next. Depression would have her in bed for days at a time and she never failed to throw off the usual threat to Mags before locking herself away in the bedroom " _nothing better happen to that child_ ". Ciara was that child and the dutiful Mags stood guard over her until their mother died five years earlier. By then Ciara was a frequent runaway, a drug user and known to police. Their father had just been admitted to a long-term care facility with advanced Alzheimer's disease. Through it all everyone had depended on Mags to keep it all going smoothly. And she did, no matter how tough things became, she had been strong until the other night. When Ciara failed to return Sunday night from the weekend getaway to Dublin, Mags was not concerned. At twenty-two years of age, a girl was entitled to go where she wanted in her own private way. Thinking along more rational lines, Mags believed Ciara wanted to prolong her stay in the Capital, but by Wednesday night concern quickly became worry and worry became dread. Mags had not remained idle though and contacted everyone she knew, none of whom were Ciara's friends per say as she did not have any. The general reaction was of understanding and hope for her safe return, but at the same time Mags detected underpinnings of doubt about recidivism. Well they could think what they bloody well wanted she knew Ciara has not returned to her old ways.

Taking out her mobile from her handbag she tried calling Ciara and for the millionth time it went straight to voice mail. "Just come home sis – Please," she implored. Ending the call she swore under her breath. "Fuck it!!!!", she uttered through gritted teeth. Their mother would turn in her grave if she heard her children using language like that. The woman abhorred anything remotely common-sounding and was obsessive when it came to appearances and etiquette. Mags flipped the phone shut and jeered "well you know whash Ma? I couldn't give a rrats hoale" she taunted in the flattest Limerick accent so "aha- fuckin- aha."

Moments later she burst into sobs with the feeling that her mother continued to drive her insane posthumously. It was getting so hard to keep it together. Her head felt it would burst. Maybe she was going crazy. Just then two elderly ladies paused and looking with pity upon the obviously distraught woman asked if she was alright. Assuring them all was well she heaved up off the steps then waddled away up the street to where the car was parked. The strain of recent events was beginning to take its toll on Mags not only mentally but physically. Her blood pressure was far higher than normal and her limbs were swelling considerably with each passing day. Medical appointments were put aside to focus on finding her sister, and this disregard seemed to have her gynaecologist concerned enough to have left several authoritative messages on her mobile.

"You are borderline pre-eclamptic Mags and you must go to the hospital immediately, both for yours and the baby's sake. This is a very, very serious condition which must not be ignored." And she would go to the hospital, just as soon as she found Ciara.

As Mags shifted awkwardly behind the wheel of her ever-shrinking car, she took a sudden sharp intake of breath as the baby kicked hard. "Another goal by star rugby player Thompson" she announced while starting the engine. A quick check in the rear-view mirror to wipe away the tears was followed by a sharp shake of the head to pull herself together. "Right! The show must go on." Cradling her tummy she said smiling "nine days and counting little one, and don't you worry, aunty Ciara will be there. She's probably just off......trying to enter some convent or other."

Feeling, weary, grimy and plain fed-up Mags merged into Henry Street's one-way traffic with the intention of going home to shower and change. The summer sky had turned a dark twilight as it gave way to the night. By some miracle another rain-free night was forecast. If Ciara had somehow become lost again, at least she wouldn't be cold and soaking wet; starving maybe, but not cold, wet and starving. After passing the Franciscan church near Roches street Mags took a sharp left for Sarsfield Bridge and the adjoining Ennis Road instead of continuing straight on home. A visit to Ciara's old haunts was deemed necessary at this point just in case the temptation of black-out drinking and drugs was too hard to resist. During those wilder years her sister had a few friends or drinking buddies on the Ennis Road. The plan was to canvass their homes to see if she was holed up with them. If not she'd make her way to the city center's trendy pubs, then the seedier places and finally, the dark alleys.

In the last month life certainly had gone from normal to nuts. Everything currently hitting the fan started with Tim leaving her high and dry. Those first few weeks without him, she couldn't function. Tim had always been there for her from the moment they first met. It was at Helen Connolly's eighteenth birthday party. Helen was crazy for Tim and told everyone she was going to 'have him' that night. Well Tim had other plans and danced with Mags all night with not so much as a glace toward a very disgruntled Miss Connolly. A decade on she discovered Tim was afraid to be the father he had long sought to become. It was simply unfathomable how the well-educated man she had known and loved could just walk away so callously. There was no argument, no big fight – nothing – but a silent parting. Of course they had their problems like every other couple had, but to simply walk away like a little boy afraid to face his responsibilities was distressing to the say the least. He had given no news whatsoever as to where he was. "Off in bloody Never, Never land" she murmured while driving across the calm waters of the River Shannon "wherever that is - probably next to an effin convent."

*

The first ring of the telephone jolted her from a deep, restful sleep, momentarily sending her into confusion. She squinted at the illuminated red digits of the bedside clock and rolled her eyes. Four twenty in the morning –so much for having a lie in!! By the time the second ring sounded Lucy Courtney had sat upright all the while mentally canceling her first real day off in three months.

"Hello" she said sharply, sounding far more alert than she felt. The desire to ask 'who the hell is calling at this hour' was suppressed as the voice of reason urged her to hear the caller out.

"Issam there?" the slurred jocular tone asked before burping loudly. The raucous chorus in the background erased any doubt as to who was on the other end of the line.

"Fergus" she sighed morosely more as a form of recognition than a greeting. The man had been warned not to call during the night, but that obviously went in one ear and out the other. Her eyes glanced to the figure sleeping soundly by her side, and a deep line formed in the middle of her brow. Once again he had managed to steal prime bed space during the night leaving her the luxurious edge of the mattress. No wonder her right side ached.

"Euh Lucy?" Fergus called down the line "have ya fallen asleep there?"

"No" she stated in another sigh "hang on. I'll wake him." Trying to wake a man out of a state of unconsciousness most could only ever experience under a general anaesthetic was not easy. She stifled a yawn then asked Fergus, "Which one is it this time?" The piercing twang of an electric guitar roared down the line. Fergus' voice screamed "Black Dog baby, Black Dog!!!!!" '"rand" Lucy continued with a bored tone all the while setting the volume of the receiver to maximum level then pressed speaker. She placed it against Sam Dougherty's ear. The blast of the first screeching chord was held for a long moment filling the room with a high pitched timbre which did not succeed in budging her bed-fellow. Fergus broke into song. Well, singing isn't how it should be described, caterwauling would be more accurate. The man had talent as a guitar player but not when it came to vocals. Sam would always say Fergus could wake the dead. She considered herself officially awake.

Sam and Fergus were childhood friends and now newly graduated students from Limerick University. They were embarking on a three month 'tour' of Europe where they had managed to find a few gigs in various Irish pubs. The duo was immensely popular on campus for their performances at the local student pub, where a few nights a week they belted out renditions of songs from artists like Cat Stevens, Simon and Garfunkel, Bob Dylan and more. Fergus' love of the electric guitar and rock hits from the seventies began in his teenage years but knew no success of any kind. Sam convinced him to play acoustic guitar to fit with the folk genre, which Fergus did, albeit reluctantly. His electric guitar was kept as an alarm clock for Sam.

Lucy was still holding the phone next to his ear when Sam bolted straight up. The shoulder length shaggy blond hair, toned body and blue eyes set in boyish features gave him a certain charm she had found so irresistible in the beginning. He gave her a momentary look of confusion followed by a thumbs up to the phone and a sleepy thanks to Fergus.

"Shag off . I'm awake!" As Lucy replaced the phone on the hook she felt Sam's strong arms around her naked body.

"You've a plane to catch," she said pushing him away.

"Lucy" he scowled, "I won't see you for three months!" She didn't say it would be a great relief, but that's exactly how she felt. Sam wasn't a bad guy but had become too egocentric for her liking. Maybe he had always been high maintenance she just hadn't seen it until later into the relationship.

Their meeting was almost cliché; a folk singer sees girl in audience, catches her eye, dedicates a few songs to her, she's a little drunk, feels special and agrees to go on a date with him. Fast forward a year and all she could say was they had nothing more than a non-committal routine of sorts where the sex was nice but there wasn't much tying them together emotionally. Nobody was to blame for the way things turned out. They just allowed a convenience of sorts to develop. His trip to Europe was what she needed to bring things to an end.

"Sam, I've been thinking..."

"I'm starving Luce" he muttered sleepily "any chance you'd put on a fry."

"You'll have time to make yourself a fry."

"I know! But it always tastes better if you make it for me." He turned over on his side all the while taking what was left of the covers. "Go on love, will ya and make it for me?"

"The place will be stinking of grease!"

"Yeah, but that perfume you wear would overpower a horse. Masks everything!" Her mouth opened agape at this insult to Dior. How could walking into one spritzy mist possibly create the fog he was referring to? She was tempted to list his umpteen annoying habits but decided it wasn't worth the bother. Instead, she proceeded with the decision she had taken some weeks earlier.

"Sam, I really don't think we should be together anymore..."

"Luce!" he exclaimed turning brusquely to face her with an expression of alarm. "What are you talking about?" His sudden intensity was making her feel uncomfortable.

"I just feel...that we're not right for each other anymore."

"You're breaking up with me!!!," incredulity written across his face "because I asked you to make me a fry!!!"

"It has nothing to do with....."

"...and on the morning I'm leaving on a European Tour?"

"You've got three gigs in two pubs. I wouldn't consider that a tour, per se." Sam was clearly insulted.

"They're the confirmed gigs, but we have offers for others, you know that."

"Look, I'm happy you're getting this opportunity but I don't feel we should....."

"God Luce – you can be such a cold hearted bitch at times!" That comment stung.

"Sam, you had better leave now!" He was about to say something when the phone rang again. Knowing it was Fergus she picked it up and snapped "he's awake, okay!!"

"Lucy?" the woman's voice asked. Puzzled, Lucy checked the caller ID and saw the name Mags Thompson.

"Mags!!" She gasped, something must be really wrong! "Mags, I'm sorry. I thought it was Fergus calling back. Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"I'm just outside Luce," came the weary voice "I saw your car and thought....can I come in?"

"Out.....outside the house?" Lucy was really concerned now "goodness, yes of course, come on in". She pulled back the covers and bolted out of bed, ignoring Sam's ramblings about a lift to the airport then promptly threw on yoga pants and a fleece hoody before dashing downstairs.

It had been at least four months since Lucy had seen Mags, and that realization brought with it heavy pangs of guilt. But the lack of communication was not entirely due to a heavy study schedule and the intermittent company of a bed-friend, Lucy had deliberately taken a step back from Mags' because of on-going tensions between them. She had preferred to put it down to respective changes in lifestyles, or maybe even something as tired as raging hormones rather than admit to a fading friendship.

Her hand was on the front door handle when Sam appeared at the bottom of the stairs, parts of his hair standing upright on his head. A white towel was wrapped low around his slim waist and despite the disappointed, sleepy scowl on his face, he was for all intent and purposes, handsome.

"My flight leaves in two hours, can you please make this quick?" She threw him a murderous look as he bolted upstairs and began packing his suitcase. Mags, who had extracted herself from the car seat greeted Lucy and the friends hugged each other for a long moment in silence before Lucy stepped back to take in Mags' bump.

"Wow" she said in complete awe "that baby looks just about ready." With a wide smile she replied "eight days and counting."

"It's so good to see you" Lucy said smiling all the while observing the dire change in her best friend. Dark circles hung low under sad blue eyes while her usual shiny black locks of hair sat unkempt and dull below her jaw. Water welled in Mags' eyes, "you too Luce."

"Come on into the kitchen and tell me what's going on."

"Am I disturbing anything?"

"Nothing at all" Lucy smiled reassuringly. Her friend looked horrendous and even seemed to have skipped on personal hygiene. Something had gone very wrong somewhere.

"Tell me how things are going?"

"Before I say a single word, I urgently need to pee and eat – in that order." While Mags used the washroom, Lucy phoned a taxi for Sam and asked them to honk the horn when they were outside. Then she went upstairs and announced to Sam that he was being brought to the airport.

"That's my girl' he winked. "I don't want to be late. Fergus has already been in Munich for a week now and says it's wild!" Lucy forced herself to be diplomatic.

"Of course! When you hear the car beep it's time to leave." As she went back downstairs he called out "I'll still have time for that fry."

The butter croissants and chilled orange juice were on the table when Mags returned refreshed from the bathroom. Lucy had made a pot of coffee and the inviting odor swelled within the cosy kitchen. The friends now sat at an angle to one another and Lucy watched as Mags ate heartily. Three croissants and a quart of orange juice later, Mags seemed revived enough to talk.

"That was delicious Luce. I was absolutely starving....and bursting. I had not eaten in.....I do not know how long."

"There are loads more if you like." Mags shook her head, "no, I am fine, thanks. This is so kind of you." Lucy knew her childhood friend well enough to see she was stalling.

"Mags, what is really going on?"

"Well" she said swallowing hard, "since we last saw each other, things have changed quite drastically really." The sound of a taxi beeping outside and Sam subsequently hurrying down the stairs made her sigh.

"Hang on Mags. I just need to finish up something." When Sam saw her open the front door and gesture to go outside he gave an appreciative nod "not bad service if I say so myself, except for the lack of breakfast." She waited until he was past the threshold then closed the door saying "and don't be a skinflint- tip the driver this time!" As she headed down the hallway he yelled through the letterbox "that's just fuckin low Lucy – really low. I have to pay to go to the airport!! Wonderful!!! fuckin wonderful!!" Lucy returned to see the shocked look on Mags' face, but reassured her friend that all was well. Mags appeared unsure.

"Was that Sam who just left?"

"Yes, he's off to join Fergus in Munich. I told him we were over."

"Really?"

"It was never going to be anything more."

"Can he pay for the taxi?" Lucy pressed her lips together, typical of Mags to be considerate of everyone.

"He has more money than both of us put together. It's about time he learned how to open his wallet every now and again." Mags took her friend's hands in hers, 'are you okay?'

"Never better!" Lucy replied while pouring a coffee. "Now, tell me what's happening?" Lucy knew Mags had a tendency to over dramatize events which would be otherwise banal. Like the time she told everyone in primary school that her father had emptied the house and abandoned her mother and sister for another woman leaving them penniless with nothing to sit on. A social worker turned up at the house to investigate and learned that Mr Thompson had taken a three month work contract in London. All chairs were accounted for. Mags' flair for the dramatic continued on into adulthood where she studied acting, ending up assistant director in the local theater.

"Well where does one begin?" Mags dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Tim has left me and now Ciara has gone missing."

"Tim left you?" Lucy parroted. "Tim actually left you?" She repeated in disbelief. Then a moment later asked with slight suspicion "has he taken a new job further afield; London perhaps?"

"Lucy!" Mags retorted hotly after realizing what her friend was thinking "I am not some child looking for attention. I'm telling you the truth!! He walked out a month ago and I have not seen nor heard from him since!!!!" She saw the pain in her friend's eyes and believed her, but was shocked that Tim, whom she knew so well, would do such a thing.

"What happened?" Lucy asked softly

"Peter Pan syndrome" Mags shrugged "couldn't face being a father - preferred being a fucker." Lucy's eyes widened, "Houston we have a problem" she thought. Mags never swore, or if she did, it had been after knocking back ten Black Russians, was up against an electricity pole trying to dance like a stripper and even then she had only said "shite" after falling onto the wet footpath.

"But wasn't he the one pushing for this pregnancy?" Lucy asked puzzled. Mags shifted uncomfortably.

"He was very surprised initially, understandably so, after so many years trying to conceive a child. I mean I was really surprised too, as well you know. Then after the last ultrasound he simply says he can't do this and walks out!" Lucy couldn't imagine Tim walking away like that, he was a good guy, at least he had been, so why was the word bloodyeffincowardandbastard on the tip of her tongue? Still, in all fairness Mags behavior of late had been volatile. It was like as if she had suddenly become Eve cast from the Garden of Eden with a bun in the oven and nobody to remotely understand what she was going through. Perhaps Tim had needed a breather....for the sake of their marriage. Just a bit of time to get himself sorted out. Still, he was taking an awfully long time. Maybe he had found himself a bit of crumpet on the side. Oh, that's a terrible thought to have.

"And you think he's with Ciara?"

"No Lucy! Ciara disappeared four, well now it is five days ago, but it has nothing to do with Tim." Lucy was not overtly alarmed at Ciara going missing. This was not the first conversation they had about the woman's disappearance. Even though it had been some years since then, this time felt just like every other previous situation.

"How do you know it has nothing to do with Tim?"

"Honestly! How can you ask such a thing?"

"I don't know Mags!" Lucy said exasperated that she wasn't fully grasping the complexities of her friend's life. "I'm trying to understand what's going on. I suppose the Tim and Ciara scenario is a result of my sexually thwarted mind." Mags grinned conspiratorially.

"Well I know Ciara never understood what I saw in him. In private, she referred to him as Ken Dodd's love child!" Both women laughed at this unflattering reference to Tim's looks and an aging British comedian.

"Okay, so Ciara's disappearance is unrelated to Tim leaving, but what if she has gone to find him for you." Mags paused for a moment "of all the possible situations I have conjured up, that one never crossed my mind."

"Maybe because you were so upset with him she went off to find the mongrel and bring him back."

"That's a bit harsh Lucy, he's not a mongrel!"

"Sorry, but I can't think of any other word to adequately describe a man who can walk out on his wife and unborn child."

"Weren't we talking about Ciara?," Mags asked with a tone of annoyance.

"Then you think that she could have gone searching for him?"

"Perhaps, but it's not like her to cut communications completely. I mean she understands how I worry for her and would never deliberately stress me out like this."

"Well, have the police been notified?"

"Yes, just yesterday. But I'm not expecting them to devote much attention to her because they probably assume she is using again."

"Do you think she is?"

"Honestly? As much as I want to say she's not, I suppose I have my doubts because I have just spent the entire night going to every hovel imaginable." The tremor in her voice resounded when she explained, "I don't know what to do Luce; I feel I'm at the end of my rope."

"Did you report Tim was also missing?" Mags shook her head.

'I want him to come home because he wants to be with us, not because he's hauled back by the police.' Lucy watched as her friend's eyes filled up.

"Mags, I'm so sorry. These worries should be the last thing you have to deal with at such a special time in your life. I mean having a baby is just the summit of life's experiences." And that's all it took for Mags to crack. She burst into uncontrollable sobs, the kind that could not be consoled with understanding words or gestures. This was release in its most primal form and Lucy let her have a good long cry before finally speaking.

"Look why don't you have a rest here then you and I will talk to the police again." Mags blew her nose hard, "You'll do that?"

"Of course!!" she exclaimed to reassure her distraught friend. Then without preamble, fetched a blanket from the oak chest in the hallway returned to Mags and placed it on her lap.

"Once you've had a few hours sleep." Mags' eyes widened and she gasped for a second before her hands motioned up and down quickly like one who had hatched the most brilliant of ideas.

"You could call Kevin Hartnett!!"

"What!!!!!!" Lucy balked. "Have you lost your mind?"

"For God's sake he's a poh-lice-man." Mags wasn't saying duh but it was intoned "he can help I'm sure of it."

"I will do no such thing." Four years earlier Kevin and Lucy met when strange notes were being sent to her following her grandmother's death. Turns out a mad man was trying to kill her. But the intense bond they formed in the midst of danger and chaos had not lasted for very long and they drifted apart shortly after the case was solved. Kevin had moved to Dublin to pursue his goal of becoming a detective and Lucy had gone to Limerick University. They had gone from lovers to friends but even that didn't last long. It was well over three years since they had spoken.

"I don't see why not," Mags insisted. "You were intense together."

"That was years ago!" Lucy tsked."Kevin Hartnett could be well on his way to being a priest for all I know, so just forget about involving him. Okay???!" The look she threw Mags told her to drop that idea.

"Alright, alright." Mags said impatiently. "Surely you had the name of one other fella that you could call." Feeling slightly exasperated Lucy sighed "what fella?"

"Remember you said he was massive." An index finger went to her lips as her eyes lifted upwards in an effort to recall the person in question. "Wasn't he good buddies with Kevin?"

"Oh you mean Liam!" Regret immediately followed the guess. It would have been best to have conveniently forgotten anyone associated with Kevin.

"That's the one!" Mags cried happily "Can't you call him?" Lucy bit her lip. Her friend looked so hopeful, yet calling Liam felt so wrong given his connection to Kevin.

"Look, we'll contact the police in general - no need to have connections in order to get things resolved. Right?" The deep frown set between Mags' eyes showed there was little belief held in that statement.

"You can be so naïve at times......it's almost cute, if it wasn't so annoying." Deciding it was best to ignore the path they were heading towards Lucy gently raised the blanket to Mags' shoulders.

"We'll sort it out. I promise. Sleep and we'll see what we can do later."

"Lucy!" Mags implored "you don't get it do you!!!!!!! My only sister is missing. God only knows where she is or what state she is in. I couldn't even begin to describe the images that have passed through my mind. But let me tell you they are so terrifying I pray to God with every breath in my body that some angel is looking out for her, keeping her safe, warm, secure. Now you never had a sibling so I know you cannot imagine the bond sisters have, but if I'm asking you to pick up the phone and call that Liam guy it's because I'm desperate. Really desperate!!! So whatever discomfort you may feel doing this let me assure you it is nothing compared to the torture I'm going through right now." Lucy bowed her head in shame. Mags was right of course. Making a phone call was nothing. Kevin was a distant memory and Liam would probably not even remember her. Still this reasoning did not make what she was about to do any easier at all.As she headed down the hall Mags began to follow her.

"I'll do this alone please" Lucy said with such an air of finality that Mags dared not follow. Lucy removed the wallet from her hand bag and pulled out Kevin's old business card. Wear and tear had made the once firm paper soft and wrinkled, but she was incapable of throwing it out or keeping it elsewhere. Thinking back to the day he handed her the card made her smile for a moment. She had been very frightened but was doing her best to hide it. He seemed to have seen through her veneer and their path's connected somehow. The card had been a lifeline, a way to know someone was taking her fears seriously. Shaking her head she returned to the present moment, bit her lip in hesitation then dialed the main number and waited.

"Henry Street Garda station" the female officer replied.

"I'd like to leave a message for Liam Cunningham if that's alright."

"Oh, you can talk to him directly, he's right here." Lucy considered flinging the phone back onto the receiver, but before she had time to act out that thought Liam's booming voice came over the phone.

"Cunningham here. Who's calling?"

"Ah hello Liam....." she hadn't rehearsed anything and struggled to coordinate her thoughts. "...I don't know if you remember me. My name is Lucy Courtney. We met a few years back when..."

"Well indeed I do remember you Lucy," he chuckled with his deep baritone voice. "Quite the bit of chaos we had back then as well!"

"Tha..that's right" She stuttered nervously. The deep voice boomed "how are you keeping?" She sucked air through her teeth.

"Grand Liam, ahm.. thanks very much. How are you?"

"Arrah, grand altogether." An awkward silence fell between them, but it didn't last long. Liam was never one to beat around the bush.

"I'm guessing this isn't a social call." Taking a deep breath to calm the gitters, she centred her thoughts.

"Look I'm really sorry to disturb you, but I have a friend who filed a missing persons report yesterday and she thinks that things aren't moving along quickly. She's in a bad way about it to be honest."

"Well, it's not the first time I've heard that a missing person's search was, according to the complainant, not going fast enough. Rarely does anyone missing a loved one say sit back and take your time on this. I'm sure the lads are following up on the claim....... but I'll check that for you right now Lucy. Just give me what details you have." Lucy related everything Mags had said and done. He noted all the names then put her on hold while he went to verify the reports filed. Four minutes later Liam came back on the line.

"Okay..... I have the file and without going into too many details, as it's an on-going investigation, we have started preliminary inquiries on the usual stuff, you know, speaking to people in her entourage. Nothing suspicious has come up so far."

"That's all I needed to know Liam. Thanks again and I'm really sorry to have disturbed."

"No worries Lucy. We'll need more information from Mags Thompson anyway, so you might as well both come in and give us a statement."

"A statement? But I haven't seen her in a while."

"Arrah it's just to have extra information. Mags mightn't be thinking with a clear head so it's always good to have another source."

"Okay then. Sounds good. I'll be by later."

"I'm here until five this evening, so come anytime until then."

While Lucy was making her way back to the kitchen, Liam Cunningham continued the email he had begun earlier to Kevin Hartnett. He'd have an interesting P.S. to add in.

## Chapter2

Later that morning Ms. Daniels knocked gently on the office door not waiting for a reply before entering. The aging receptionist did not tolerate being hailed by her employer, Eugene Morris. They had worked together for so long each knew the other's quirks as well as any couple would. Their relationship had always been strictly professional besides Ms. Daniels did not bat for that side so to speak.

"Line two," she announced firmly. Eugene looked up over half-rimmed glasses and sighed. Interruptions were the worst kind of interference as they broke his concentration and subsequent flow. He'd cut every telephone line in existence if his business didn't depend on it.

There was no point in asking who the caller was or if it was important. Ms. Daniels would never divulge such information in front of his client. Just the fact that she interrupted the meeting told him it was a call he should take. Without a word to the messenger he excused himself to his client and left to take the call in private. In an adjacent office, he took hold of the receiver then selected the pulsating cursor pointing to line two.

"Hello."

"You have a problem." The voice was calm as it always was no matter the issue. There had never been an emotionally charged note uttered in the seven years they had known each other.

"Explain" His tone was cold, matter of fact.

"There is no back-up transfer."

"How is that possible?" he snapped.

"Usual reasons."

"And you've checked the entire system?"

"Every single entry."

"Keep looking. Double check your information."

"The client should be advised."

"Not an option. Release the dog and report back."

*

Lucy who had gone back to bed woke hours later to find Mags had already left the house. An empty carton of orange juice sat on the kitchen counter with a post-it stuck to it that said 'Thanks for everything Luce, will call you later.' Unable to reach her by phone, Lucy left a message asking Mags to call back then fixed a very late breakfast. There were many things to do before going to the police station and she would have to hurry. She was showered and dressed in under five minutes. Another minute was spent combing her straight red hair which fell well below her shoulder blades and tied it back in a neat bundle until it sat comfortably at the nape of her neck. To gain time as the electric tooth brush vibrated softly over white enamel, she haphazardly applied moisturizing cream with her free hand and let it penetrate her clear pale skin. The image in the mirror reflected a tall, young, green eyed woman in her late twenties, whose thin lips gave way to a wide, forced smile as she checked for dental cleanliness. Lucy threw on her coat and shoes, grabbed her keys and handbag then dashed outside. Turning the key in her Athlunkard Street home, she looked to the sky and dark grey clouds hovering menacingly over the city. She hopped into her silver Ford Opal, turned on the ignition and sped off to the university. Corrections for her thesis had been completed and a final meeting with her supervisor had been set up weeks earlier to discuss her continuing in a Masters program. More studying was the last thing Lucy needed right now and very much regretted agreeing to the appointment. Her supervisor, Mr Kelly, was a wonderful professor but couldn't see that she had reached a saturation point in regards to the discipline. Languages were something she felt passionate about, but continuing studying them for another two years would take a level of perseverance that was simply non-existent in her mind. Anyway, she had made plans of her own, which admittedly was a tad exciting. Two months ago during a quiet evening at home in a moment of courage peppered with an aromatic Chardonnay, Lucy had applied for a six month stint with a translation company located in the trendy arrondissement of Montparnasse, Paris. The ensuing phone interviews had been successful enough to lead to an actual meeting in the city of light a week later. The terms and conditions of the employment suited her. She had signed the contract and the start date was confirmed. They had said they needed the position filled before October first. Nobody else knew of this and she wasn't sure she felt like sharing it either –bizarre creature that she was. It was best to just a leave a message for her friends once she had arrived in Paris. That was just the way she preferred things –simple, secret with no fuss!

It was nearing four o' clock when Lucy shook hands with Liam Cunningham, who was just as massive as she remembered. Standing at a towering six feet six inches, he was a barrel chested man with a shock of straight blond hair, blue eyes and slightly pink skin. His hands were like shovels and she pitied anyone foolish enough to get on the wrong side of him. Inside his huge palm, her hand was like a doll's and this he noticed immediately "you're still as petite as ever." Lucy was not a small woman. At five foot seven with an athletic build, she had never been considered petite.

"I do believe you've actually grown since I saw you last Liam, if that's possible."

"It's expanding I am now" he said rubbing his hand over a slightly rotund belly. "The wife is worse than the mother when it comes to meals. They think I'm in a constant state of starvation."

"You got married. Congratulations!"

"Yep, two years last May" he said rolling his eyes but gleaming with pride. 'Great do altogether t'was! Kevin was the best man of course! Himself, his wife and a gang of us flew down to Cancun." The look of shock must have registered on Lucy's face because Liam shifted uncomfortably for a moment before continuing on as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said.

"Yeah, we didn't want a typical wedding with three hundred guests, so we decided to get married on a beach in Mexico."

"Sounds lovely" she managed to say with enormous difficulty all the while feeling silly about being bothered that Kevin Hartnett got married. He was entitled to his happiness. Besides they hadn't seen each other in years. What was it to her!

"Now people would say it's not much of a honeymoon when there's sixteen of you together, but we all had a brilliant time. Unforgettable it was!!" Lucy was wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.

"Well I'm very happy for you Liam." Desperately wanting to change the subject she pointed to the stripes on his shirt sleeves. "You've become sergeant no less." Another beaming smile of pride broke across his face.

"I have indeed. I had just come back from the honeymoon and the Captain called me into his office. Kevin had come down for the day and I thought something nasty was going on, but then the Captain announced I was promoted to sergeant. I tell you t'was better than winning the lotto." Everything he mentioned included something about Kevin, so she stopped asking questions, preferring to remain silent.

"And what about yourself Lucy, found an auld ball and chain of your own?" She couldn't say she had spent the last year as the only groupie to a part-time folk singer she had ditched that very morning.

"No time Liam" she waved dismissively, "studying non-stop."

"Sure there's time yet" he shrugged demonstrating the existence of a deadline for finding a partner or face spinsterhood. Lucy nodded and smiled as Liam loquaciously went into buddy stories of his and Kevin's exploits but all the while she was willing herself home. Finally he took out his pen and prepared to take whatever information she could give on Ciara. This didn't take too long as Lucy had not seen Ciara in over six months, still she did try to give pertinent details concerning her description, distinguishing marks and anything else that may help in finding her.

Just as she was about to leave Lucy asked if Mags had stopped by to give her statement.

"She did indeed about three it was! Liam explained. "I didn't realize she had a little one coming along so soon. She's fierce big."

"Less than a week, I believe." Liam chuckled and said it would probably be sooner. Not wanting to even comprehend how he knew this she asked if Mags happened to mention where she was going.

"Just left to search locally, thinks she may find some local junkie or other who could help her find Ciara." Lucy's eyes widened in alarm "oh God! I'd better try and find her." He waved a hand of dismissal.

"I asked one of the newer recruits to keep an eye on her, so at least she won't be endangering herself. The woman is brave I'll give her that. I mean Limerick has some great trendy spots, but like any city it has a few dubious places." Lucy shook her head.

"She's so desperate to find Ciara I think she's forgetting there's a baby coming!" Liam nodded in agreement.

"I would imagine with all the stress she's been under, her priorities may not be clear."

"Of course! But she won't listen to anyone ...I'm worried about her."

"Who knows how we'd react if faced with the same situation" he offered. "....imagine you're pregnant and you're sister's missing, ...wouldn't you do exactly the same thing? "He didn't wait for a response. "Well from what Kevin told me" he said with a slightly lopsided smile "I'm guessing you'd probably be doing cavity searches on gang members by now!" Lucy couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't believe everything you hear." Liam nodded as his lips pressed together tightly. He put away his pen and closed over the note pad. She stood up placing her handbag across her wrist "right then Liam, I'll go. Thanks for your time." He took her proffered hand and held it firmly for a moment.

"I'll tell him you haven't changed a bit." A tight knot stung her throat and she shook her head.

"Best not tell lies." And with that she was gone.

*

After leaving the station the remainder of Lucy's 'to-do'list fell by the wayside, a victim of inertia brought on by Liam dropping the M bomb. Kevin was married? Kevin was married! The phrase replayed over and over in her mind. Wow...it was just....so...so hard to imagine she thought. Of all the things she had expected to learn at the police station, Kevin Hartnett's marriage was not one of them. Missing persons statistics, yes, safety precautions yes, former boyfriends getting hitched...no! Subsequent state of shock – no! Her mind travelled back to the time when their connection first took off. It was in front of The Windmill Pub on the South end of Limerick City. Lucy was very frightened after finding another menacing note left for her. It was a second and more threatening one but what was worse it had been left on the fridge door. The intruder had felt bold enough to enter her home which had scared her beyond words. When she met Kevin that night, his deep blue eyes and protective nature had just won her over completely. It was sad really that their relationship hadn't developed further. They ended up going their separate ways, so obviously they had not been meant for one another. Kevin it seemed had fared better than her in the love department that was for sure. She had remained celibate up until last year when she met Sam - the Irish version of a brash Art Garfunkel!!! Kevin had found someone he loved enough to say I do forever. But how? And when? And what did she look like? And why was she so special to him? Lucy admonished herself for asking all these questions? The man was perfectly entitled to go off and do as he pleased. He was with someone with whom he had formed a lasting bond...and that was okay. No?

Somehow she found herself sitting on a bench in the old Potato Market overlooking a narrow passage of the River Shannon. The dark clouds had been swept away by a strong breeze and now golden rays of sunshine peered out through tufts of white clouds gently caressing the glistening waters. Majestic swans floated gracefully along a small shaded inlet to the rear of the Gerst Museum. The bevy paused for a moment to preen before deciding to venture cautiously onto the grassy bank. Their beauty however and that of the surrounding area was lost on Lucy. She tried to imagine wanting to walk down the aisle with Sam and almost laughed out loud. Yet Kevin loved someone enough to do just that. The whole thing was sitting like a large piece of undigested beef in her gut and she had no idea why. It wasn't like they had remained close. Neither one had tried to reach out to the other at any time, so what was ailing her? Was it because now that he was well and truly unavailable, forbidden fruit was sweeter and she wanted him back? Classing it as simple childishness, she brushed off the blues and decided on having some emotional Pepto-Bismol in the form of a local Chinese takeaway - Kung Po.

It was nearing seven thirty by the time she got home, the feeling of dejection still lingering in her every pore. Discarding her shoes haphazardly, she placed her handbag on the table in the hallway and swore under her breath when the doorbell rang. Opening the front door Lucy gasped in surprised to find Liam Cunningham standing there.

"Oh God!" She gasped "Is Mags okay?" His hands rose in a calming gesture as he stepped inside.

"It's alright. Garda Riordan who's watching her called to say she's at the maternity hospital, but I don't know if the baby is on its way. She's a bit upset and is asking for her sister. I was just on my way home when I thought I'd call in and let you know.....'cause you might want to be with her. "

"A hospital...." Lucy repeated distractedly. The thought of what she'd have to do was already making her head spin while her heart beat rapidly.

"Yeah...the Maternity, that's right." She swallowed hard.

"Right, of course, thank you very much. I'm on my way immediately." While Lucy slipped on her shoes, Liam craned his neck, his attention drawn to something on the wall behind Lucy. Her eyes followed his alighting upon a framed photo of Mags, Lucy, Tim, Ciara and several other friends smiling together in a happy moment captured two years earlier. Liam commented on how Ciara was very similar to Mags only much more svelte.

"Even if she has changed considerably in the past few weeks" Lucy interjected "you cannot miss the tattoo on the back of her neck I mentioned in my statement."

"A small red heart with gold thorns encircling it. Right?"

"Right. It's high up on the nape of her neck, just below the hairline. Not easy to see unless she wears her hair up."

"Do you know what the tattoo symbolizes for her?" Liam asked. Lucy was feeling a sense of extreme urgency "I don't remember if she told me already. You'll really have to ask her yourself." Liam was not optimistic of having that opportunity but did not say as much.

"Grand, I'm on it then" he said heading out the door.

"Right Lucy, can I give you a lift to the hospital. I'm passing by there anyway." She thought a lift would save her wasting time looking for a parking spot.

"Please. If you don't mind."

*

"Tim!, it's Lucy. This message is to inform you that Mags is in the hospital as I speak. I don't know where you are, or what's happening, but I know Mags needs you now more than anything. Please...go to the Maternity Hospital on the Ennis Road." Liam pulled up to the entrance of the red bricked three storey building as Lucy put away her mobile phone. The colossal guard gave her a sympathetic nod and said "it's bad when the father has done a runner."

"I've known him for years and still can't believe he's done this to Mags. How he could just walk away from everything he loved is mind boggling?" Annoyance flickered across her features "giving birth is horrendous but giving not knowing if her sister is alive or dead while contending with a runaway husband is just inconceivable!" Liam glanced towards the building.

"That's tough alright."

"...he's a bloody coward he is if you ask me!"

"Well, he wouldn't be the first man to walk away from his responsibilities" Liam said as if to soothe the irritation building in her, "and he won't be the last either. The world has many a lonely parent wondering where the other partner went off to. But, if you want, I can check his credit card activity – just to see if we get a fix on where he might be - could be tied into Ciara being missing too." Lucy was a private person and not one to poke around in other people's lives. If Tim and Mags were having issues then that was theirs to own and resolve. Still, the child, which he had created together was about to arrive center stage and would be needing a father, so even if Mags was against the idea of hunting down Tim in order to bring him home, there was no harm in Lucy trying to find some answers.

"Okay, why not?"

"Grand then. Just give me his name and date of birth?" Lucy provided all the necessary details, left her mobile number where she could be contacted and was headed inside.

Lucy's fearful reaction to any care facility brought on panic attacks and severe anxiety. Like any kind of phobia, it was irrational, but not unfounded. By the time she was ten years old, she had lost both parents to cancer. They had died within a short time of one another and their final months were spent in hospital fighting a losing battle. While they were in care Lucy began to experience very scary feelings every time she went to visit them, but said nothing. After that anything clinic, infirmary or hospice related caused her to freeze in fear. Even when Hannah, her loving grandmother and only remaining family was in her final days, Lucy struggled to deal with the strong aversion. Now, she avoided those places like the plague.

Thirty minutes were spent just trying to navigate to the nurse's station in order to find Mags' room. Deep breaths and calming thoughts helped her advance one step at a time. The night would be long and arduous but she promised herself she'd be strong for Mags' sake.

"Okay there Mags?" the young pixie-like nurse asked while busily checking the patient's blood pressure for the fortieth time. Her cheery disposition along with Lucy's smile of encouragement stood out in stark contrast to the bed's occupant. Mags shot them both a look that could only be described as demonic.

"Fuck sake! Are ye blind!!!!Do I look okay?!!!! And you Tinker Bell! Where did you get your nursing degree...in a fuckin Rice Krispy box??????????" The insult didn't even register in the nurse's demeanor. Only a hint of concern could be detected in the pressing together of her lips. Without saying a word the nurse signalled Lucy to step outside the private room. Lucy followed, leaving a very belligerent Mags to rant alone. After over two hours of listening to the diatribe she was glad to isolate herself temporarily from the din.

"I'm so terribly sorry about the things she's been saying" Lucy said with genuine shame. The nurse shook her head "she is not helping herself or the baby."

"I've never seen or heard her talk like this. I mean, yes, she's been a bit difficult lately, but there are circumstances causing her tremendous stress."

"We are aware of those, but they must take second place to her health and that of the baby. She'll be prepped for a C-section within the next few minutes. In the meantime she has to calm down. Her blood pressure is dangerously high." Lucy rubbed her aching neck, "I know, but you've seen her; she's just not listening to reason."

"Neither mother nor baby are doing well."

"Okay, I'll try to talk to her again. Give me a few minutes alone with her, I'll see if I can get her to calm down." Lucy returned to the room where a pair of glaring eyes followed her every step. Despite the look of disdain and frustration, Lucy was relieved the tirade had stopped and let the silence grow between them. Thinking logically, the emotional turmoil which had pooled into verbal scum had come from fear and anger. Under normal circumstances, Lucy would have encouraged Mags to let all the frustration out of her system, whatever way possible. However, these were not normal circumstances, and Lucy had to find a way to explain the seriousness of the situation without triggering another litany of insults. A different approach was needed, one that would reach what Mags craved above all. An idea came to her of the tough love variety. There was the risk of it producing the opposite outcome intended, but as the nurse mentioned earlier they had no options left. Lucy applied a damp cloth to her friend's forehead and spoke softly, "Liam is doing his best to find Ciara right now. It's after nine o' clock at night and he's been working since five this morning but he's out there trying to find her." This grabbed Mags attention enough to have her at least appear to listen as Lucy continued, "He's going to the media for a nationwide appeal, so by the time the evening news airs tomorrow, her photo will be on every television screen in the country. Leads will start pouring in after that." She paused for a moment hating what she was going to have to say next, but figuring it was saving her friend's life. "Still......perhaps none of that will occur."

"What do you mean?" Mags barked while looking distractedly at her twitching arm.

"Well..... maybe Liam will disassociate himself from the entire operation." Mags put a hand over the muscle spasm, "why would he do that?!"

"Maybe he feels that the person he is trying to help –namely you- isn't helping herself." Mags looked like she was about to explode again.

"Helping myself???!!!!! I am having a child here Lucy Courtney in case you hadn't noticed!!!! Maybe if you came down off that high and fecking mighty horse you're on, you'd see that." Lucy knew she was adding fuel to the fire but that was expected, and continued gently, "but you're not really having this child, are you? Just because Ciara and Tim are not present as you planned, you're letting a life slowly die inside of you; whereas, if you were really having this baby like you're supposed to you'd be cooperating with the doctors and nurses."

"You fucking bitch!!" she spat viciously.

"Fine then" Lucy said pulling out her mobile phone to put the final touches on a cruel but necessary bluff "we'll just call off that search."

"You haven't the balls! You're just a big scaredy cat hiding behind your books and boooring routine instead of living life and..." Lucy put the phone on speaker and the rapid tones of speed dial rang out before ringing twice.

"Cunningham." Liam answered. Mags eyes widened in disbelief.

"Okay, Okay!!!!!" she squealed. "I'll do it" she sobbed "I'll do it....I promise. Don't stop the search." The machine hooked onto Mags' arm began to emit a rapid beep. Lucy pressed the end call button and let out an indiscernible sigh of relief as her cheeks became tear stained.

"Start by taking long deep breaths." Feeling the need to take deep breaths herself, Lucy encouraged Mags to follow along and do the same. "Right" she said planting a kiss to her friend's forehead, "keep that up, I'll be back in a minute." Mags nodded then watched as Lucy quickly headed to the door to fetch the nurse.

"Wait!" she hollered, her expression one of fear. "I didn't do right by Ciara. All these years protecting her, and then I just let her go off like that." The machine's beeps were no longer separate but one continuous alarm. Lucy rolled her eyes. This wasn't time for a confession.

"Breathe Mags...we'll talk about that later."

"No!!!" Please listen,' she begged, "promise me you'll find Ciara" her eyes were pleading as she swallowed hard, "no matter what happens or what you hear." Lucy replied in a heartbeat.

"Mags not now! okay! The baby is all that matters in this moment." Mags sobbed "please find her, please, please, oh please......" Lucy rushed to her side and held her hands tightly.

"Okay! I promise. Okay? I promise with all my heart I will find Ciara and bring her home to you both." Her friend smiled briefly with relief before the demonic look returned and the alarm went piercingly high.

"Right. Tell the nurse I can't feel my fuckin legs."

*

"Sir?" Eugene Morris tsked impatiently.

"What do you have?"

"I located the man."

"Is he alone?"

"Affirmative."

"Extract the information!"

"Negative."

"What do you mean negative?"

"He's Tango- Uniform, Sir."

"Tang......would you please speak in a language I can comprehend!"

"Affirmative sir."

"Good. Now, the man, why won't he talk?"

"He – is - dead. Or Tit's Up. Tango Uniform sir." The military man continued to explain the circumstances of how the deceased passed away. Eugene Morris listened intently, his stress level rising with each detail divulged. In the silence that followed the caller became uncomfortable with the lack of direction.

"Awaiting further instructions, sir." Morris was not to be hurried and spent another few moments contemplating the next move.

"The target in all of this is what is most important. Let us see if the ladybug will come to the web." Now it was the soldier's turn to be confused.

"Just so we are clear sir, you believe I should remain in exploitable proximity to acquire contact with the target enabling me to carry out said operation by adhering to the planning guidance provided?"

"For fuck sake, just camp out where you are until someone turns up!!!"

"Affirmative sir!!"

*

The following morning Lucy awoke once again to a resonating electric buzz and it took a moment to realize where it was coming from. With one bleary eye she fished the mobile from her hoody pocket, registered the time as being eight a.m. and cursed herself for falling asleep. The armchair in the hospital waiting room had done a wonderful job of straining her neck.

"Hullo" she answered sleepily.

"Liam Cunningham here Lucy."

"Hey Liam. Everything okay?"

"Ahm I was just enquiring about the baby and if he or she had arrived yet?"

"Actually, things are not going too well at all," she answered sitting up stiffly.

"What's happening?" An edited version of events was described. After saying she couldn't feel her legs, Mags had a bad epileptic fit and her condition deteriorated after the seizure until life support was necessary. The baby, a girl, was born by emergency c-section and lay in the neo-natal intensive care unit where her state was described as critical. It didn't look good for either one. Lucy wasn't allowed see them and was advised to go home for a while but was incapable of leaving the hospital. She had contacted Mags' neighbor, Paddy. He was a close family friend with access to the house and relatives phone numbers. She delegated him the somber task of contacting Mags' next of kin. She did not tell Liam of how she had cruelly provoked Mags, of how her tough love approach had sent her friend into a coma. Lucy was constantly replay the last few minutes of their interaction hoping to change the outcome, but it lead to an incessant re-run in her head chipping away at her resolve.

"Does she have any family, locally?"

"Her Dad is an Alzheimer patient in a nearby nursing home, but he no longer recognizes anyone, and her mother died five years ago. There are a few aunts scattered about England and the U.S."

"Do you want me to contact them?"

"That's very kind of you Liam, but I think a call from a Limerick sergeant, even a noble one such as yourself would probably frighten them. Paddy knows them and said he'll call them."

*

Eugene Morris sped up Dublin's tranquil coast road under the gentle sun of a warm August morning. Conditions were perfect for the top-down option on his black Mercedez Benz SLK coupe. He loved the rush of air above his head and marvelled momentarily at the German engineering then leaned heavily on the gas pedal, pushing him hard back into the seat. The car hugged the winding road leaving little room for error but he didn't give a damn about the lack of barrier between him and the sheer drop down to the Irish Sea. His mood was dark. Anger simmered deep within him. He had been spending the weekend in London until being summoned back for a most urgent meeting. It was more the ultimatum accompanying the directive which had set him off. Failure to appear at this meeting would result in termination of the contract. A scoff escaped his lips 'termination my arse.' Ultimatums and threats were the noose to end any business relationship, not that he had much of one with this crowd. Still it served him right for putting that marionette in house to begin with. The gloves were off now, they were going to see who was really running the show here.

His arrival at the entrance to the opulent residence was registered by the bulbous head of a security camera rotating slightly towards him. An infrared light flickered for four seconds registering a hoard of bio-data serving a multitude of purposes.

"Name please." The young security guard asked in his unmistakably feminine voice.

Morris closed his eyes in muted frustration.

"Open the gate Wilfred." A nervous laugh was heard over the intercom.

"I'm really sorry Mr Morris but you told me I have to have visitors state their name and purpose." A deep sigh to will patience into his being was made before he spoke.

"Visitors! I am not a visitor, I am your boss." A loud clattering noise was heard a second before the guard apologized "It's all right sir – nothing broken." The motorized wrought iron gates opened wide. Morris refrained from hurrying to the meeting instead he drove slowly up the long the winding driveway, where lush Willow trees bowed reverently to the beauty of the domain. Fields of emerald green lay perfectly manicured while dotted areas of orange, red and golden flora speckled the scene perfectly. Even years after acquiring it, the beauty of Burleigh Manor never failed to astound him. Few could truly appreciate the work that went into the restoration process. Expert craftsmen had worked years refurbishing everything to accurately reflect the époque in which it was first constructed. He had seen the transformation painstakingly achieved through time and toil. The end result was sheer splendour. To walk through each room and feel the spirit of the period gave him a sense of accomplishment and pride he could never adequately describe to another soul. For the childless man that he was, this was his offspring and he, was selective as to who could stay at his fourteen bedrooms. Only the very wealthy had that privilege.

"Good morning Mr Morris" the aging attendant announced while descending the marble steps with a stiffness denoting advanced arthritis.

"Morning Foley" Morris responded solemnly. "How is he doing today?" With a slight nod the man answered, "Waiting for you." He took a few unhurried steps towards the car. "Checkpoints all over the house still."

"Of course" Morris replied grimly while handing over the keys to his car "thank you Foley." A largely built man with a mostly- shaved head greeted him in the grand hall. As the usual pat-down was expertly executed, Eugene observed in amusement the small amount of hair sitting on top of the guard's head. It was tied in a small tight pony tail.

"Where did they get you?" he asked condescendingly of the hired muscle "a fucking genie bottle is it?" A sharp hand gesture directed him to the corridor.

"Good job" Eugene added sarcastically while walking away. "I really wouldn't have known where to go in my own home without that informative gesture." Eugene didn't bother knocking as he entered the administrator's quarters. Knocking was a sign of respect and he felt none for this man. Every ounce of shit currently hitting the proverbial fan had been the direct result of hasty decisions and unnecessary greed. A deal, supposedly too good to pass over was costing them everything he had built. Roy Boland sat at his ornate desk, his head placed in his hands. The sight of utter disarray made Eugene smile, if that's what you could call the muscular spasm which caused his left jaw to contract for a microsecond. He was known for being a solemn man even when feeling happy. His mother often lamented this aspect of her son's make-up, blaming the defect on the circumstances of his birth. A clown brought him into the world. Her husband brought his heavily pregnant wife to the circus, her water broke prematurely leaving them no time to make it to the hospital and so the clown stepped in to assist and Eugene Morris was born. The office walls were denuded of precious treasures amassed over a lifetime were now nothing more than broken pieces of junk on the floor. A classic Roche Bobois couch imported from Paris lay upturned, its red leather covering slashed and spattered with blue ink. Roy Boland looked up at Eugene with pure fear in his eyes. A deep cut sat on one of his thick saggy red jowls. Judging from the bloodied silk suit and damaged dentition, he was sporting the calling card of one of Mr Higgins' associates, or henchmen as they should be called. The large revolver placed on the desk sent a very clear message. Whatever delay tactics Boland had been using ended now– all the bullshit was over – it was time to deliver or die. Eugene could not know that what was truly frightening Roy Boland surpassed the unmerciful beating he just got. His mboko was chopped in two. This ominous omen had set in motion a thirty year old prophecy. The Luba statue of the female form holding a cup had been acquired in Holland during his organ brokering years. An avid collector of African artefacts, he had taken it from a Congolese immigrant who helped boost organ sales. The man was paid for providing orders on demand. No questions were asked as to how they were obtained. When Roy had first set eyes on the statue he wanted it. The immigrant refused his money explaining it had been in his family for generations. The spirits of his ancestors inhabited its form. Roy never took no for an answer. Everything could be bought. He pushed several thousand dollars into the man's hand. There would be no more negotiations. When the immigrant could see the white man was taking the statue anyway, he asked to be allowed perform one final ritual which was reluctantly granted. A small amount of what the immigrant described as sacred chalk was placed in the smooth curves of the wooden cup. During the short ceremony, the man explained how he came from a long line of diviners – people who could see the future or fate. The female figure would tell him the fate of its new owner. Roy, who did not believe any of the hocus pocus was thoroughly amused by the whole thing. The diviner's eyes suddenly widened as if in a trance, Roy shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.'Many spirits wait to enter the next life because we made them incomplete. My time of torture will end when mboko splits then your torture will begin.' Decades later as Roy took in the broken African figure he could not help but feel the immigrant's words on his skin. Goosebumps covered his arms and legs. He quickly strode over to the sculpture picked up the pieces with trembling hands cradling them gently. He placed them on the desk before him next to the revolver. Unknown to him on the other side of the world in a private Mexican clinic the cancer ravaged body of the Congolese immigrant breathed a last agonizing breath. Boland glanced down as his trembling hands grasped a bottle of the best single malt. A triple shot was poured and subsequently knocked back.

'Talk to him' Roy gasped, the whiskey taking his breath away, the tone of pleading unmistakable. A hand passed nervously through waves of shiny silver hair sitting atop a chronically flushed face. Eugene did not respond instead he casually made his way across the room tossing debris aside with a loafered foot. His hands rested on either side of a large framed oil-on-canvas painting of Boland. The work had been created a few years earlier by a talented client who was in profound gratitude for services rendered. The craftsmanship was expert, the similarity striking, but in Eugene's eyes it was hideous.

"Charles made you look fifteen years younger." Eugene stated without looking towards Boland. The artist, who was not known for his discretion, had played on the vanity of an aging queen and it had worked perfectly. Their affair was intense and short lived. Eugene had cut Boland's association with the man because he was bleeding money borrowed from Eugene in order to provide a princely lifestyle for Boland's lover. Eugene tsked, 'well here we are yet again in the aftermath of one of your associations.' Not a word of complaint would be uttered. Boland knew better than that. Eugene had refused taking on Higgins as a client. In fact he had been vehemently opposed to having any connection with them. But Eugene Morris' carefully worded message of refusal had never been delivered to Higgins. Boland had agreed to the deal after Higgins had raised the offer but without Eugene's knowledge. Eugene had scrambled to provide damage control afterwards but it was too late within a week armed guards and pat downs were the signature greeting at the manor. Eugene slipped a hand inside the breast pocket of his jacket and extracted a thick envelope as Roy cupped the broken wooden figure.

"You may have once been the best broker out there, but now you're just a loose cannon." He threw the packet onto the desk.

"Take it" he commanded. Boland threw him a wary glance.

"What's this?" Eugene observed the queen counting the notes.

"It's a fuck-off present. Keep your mouth shut and you won't end up at the bottom of the Liffey." Boland's reaction was one of outrage, but Eugene would not tolerate any resistance.

"Take it or I'll have the big fuck of a genie down the hall rub you the wrong way." The money was reluctantly taken. Eugene pressed the intercom phone, "tell McKenna to please escort Boland off the premises – permanently."

"Yessir."

"Not a word to the Rats if they get curious."

"Ten-four." He then proceeded to the next meeting on the second floor where a volcano was currently erupting.

Striding confidently across the third floor corridor's highly waxed teak floors, he stopped at the Imperial Suite. Eugene had assigned Mr Higgins the utmost in luxury the manor had to offer. All possible creature comforts were provided including a butler, a professional chef and any form of transport from limo to medevac helicopter at his disposal twenty four hours a day. Personally, Morris wouldn't have offered him a public toilet to sleep in, but this was not about personal opinions, this was about getting the business deal done as quickly as possible. Suddenly a man with a stature similar to a sumo wrestler approached while munching voraciously on an apple, a look of sheer disgust on his wide face.

"He's not 'appy wiv you" he growled with a Liverpudlian accent. "Oi've seen wha' 'appens when he's not 'appy." The core was flung through the large open bay window a few feet away and surely landed on the white roses. Eugene had followed the trajectory realizing a message was being sent. He would be discarded in a similar way. While he didn't care much for the message, he frowned at this blatant disregard for the residence's image.

"I believe you will find a waste receptacle to your right."

"I don need no waste resptypikle now do oi – coz oi just chucked it out de window." Thick knuckles rapped twice against the stained solid oak door until a five foot ten ox of a man with no neck and tiny eyes stepped in front of him. Without preamble Eugene was frisked again. He couldn't help wondering just how many men were in Mr Higgins' entourage.

"This being my second pat-down since arriving" Eugene said suavely "I can assure you, I have nothing offensive on me." The ox quickly finished the search and said menacingly.

"Wrong!! I find that suit's very fuckin' offensive." Laughter broke out from the other sumo man behind him who placed a hand against Eugene's upper back shoving him forward. He was lead through a lavishly decorated living room where three sharply dressed body guards eyed him warily. All were heavily armed and not hiding it either. From there he passed through a reception area complete with fully stocked bar and lounge chairs; he knew a corridor to the right lead to a formal dining area which could receive upwards of thirty people. A toilet flushed and another guard appeared from a bathroom at the far end of the bar. Six guards so far, just keeping watch. He continued on through the reception room until they veered left down a deep and plush carpeted hall leading to the bedroom.

Palatial was the best way to describe the inner sanctum of the imperial suite. The bed was a special creation equivalent to two king size beds in one. Red and champagne hued satin drapes fell in stately opulence from high above the bed. All colors, from the bed linen, lamps, carpet and walls coordinated perfectly to give a very regal allure to the whole room.

"Mr Higgins" the Ox spoke in a deep baritone voice "Eugene Morris to see you." The guest occupying the giant bed waved a hand weakly indicating the others to leave - business was to be discussed. Eugene, approaching the bed, noticed the watery blue eyes peering out from a thin face with yellow hued skin. The cropped hair and striped blue and cream silk pajamas gave him an odd prisoner-of-war look.

"I'm noh a satusfied cliunt" he rasped weakly. The thick Dublin accent revealed his origins were most likely from the once impoverished Liberties area. Morris knew who he was dealing with and decided a no bullshit approach would be his safest bet, for now. With six armed guards ready to put a bullet in him at the drop of a hat, this was not the usual rich-and-easily-fooled client. He sat to the right of the gravely ill man, leaning back leisurely.

"Mr Higgins, as well you know we offer a very exclusive service and therefore choose our clients only after a custom made supplier is available. As explained before, in the event of unforeseen circumstances there is no immediate back-up obtainable due to the rarity of the merchandise. Now, while we have experienced something unforeseen, everything is being done to ensure this regrettable glitch is rectified. And let me reassure you that it will be resolved promptly." Morris felt his armpits dripping with sweat. Of all the people to have a mishap occur – it had to be the notorious gang boss Hammer Higgins. Rumor had it he butchered five members of his own family for various offenses over three decades. Some had stolen money or drugs, or both but one had snitched to the police in order to receive a reduced jail sentence. Higgins hammered in his face then dumped him at a hospital to make sure he would live, which he did. But the victim's brutal disfiguration would be a constant reminder of the error in taking anything from Higgins. There were other clients and business associates who became victims of the Higgins' modus operandi over the years, hence the boss name Hammer Higgins. Morris had no intention of being a notch on this man's hammer. Still, if he didn't right this wrong immediately, lives would be lost along with his treasured mansion and all he held dear. He just needed time. After Morris cleared his throat he delivered the final part of the problem. "Obviously we cannot begin phase two until this is sorted out." Higgins suspiciously eyed what he considered to be a two-bit glorified sales man. Morris' nervousness was not lost on him. He was withholding information, never a good idea in his book.

"Tell me mow 'bout dis unforeseen ting o' yoars" he rasped feigning understanding, "and wha' koind of delays we're taalkin' 'bout." Morris glitzy sales pitch style wouldn't save his hide here, yet fundamental honesty was alien to him. It had always been so easy to sell a story to people, get them to believe whatever spiel that moved money from their bank account to his. The person he portrayed always had the client's best interest at heart. Higgins was a different kettle of fish, someone who knew the game. For the first time in a couple of decades Morris felt his best gameplay would not be good enough. He felt those bleary eyes could see through the bullshit and that had his heckles up. Telling Higgins there wasn't a hope in hell of getting a replacement organ in time would surely earn him a burial that included two cement blocks for shoes. Not telling him the truth would lead to the same ending. It was a case of being damned if you do and damned if you don't. He'd have to tell him the truth....and see where it lead.

"Your supplier is temporarily unavailable – UTL. Unable to locate. We have our man – the best there is - locating the individual. Retrieval is expected shortly." Higgins listened intently, the corners of his mouth turned downwards in muted acknowledgement. He could see Morris was nervous but not playing games. Good job for him or he'd have him bludgeoned on the spot. He knew only too well what it was to play those games. Growing up in harsh conditions taught him that. While many of the kids on his street ended up in jail, dead, or half-dead junkies, he learned the benefits of having power over someone.

"Well then," the gang boss said "it sounds like you need some help." Morris smiled briefly, an unnatural smile that came with a sentiment of relief. Higgins had believed him.

"What kind of help had you in mind sir?"

"One man isn' enuff. My men will foind the suppliur. Give the information to John der n' we'll have this nonsense end today."

"Sir" Eugene urged 'in respects to you and the enterprise you've built, many of your men are visibly familiar to the authorities and their implication could jeopardize my entire operation. Now my man is off the radar so to speak and I trust he will come through very shortly. There is really no need for any unnecessary help."

"Mr Morris, shortly' isn't good enuff for me. You're getting' the help.' With a weak bark he called "John !" An instant later a firm hand grabbed Eugene's arm clearly indicating the meeting had come to an end. John, it turns out, was the Ox and after leading Eugene to the reception room he duly noted all the information on the supplier, along with a description of Morris' man currently trying to locate the subject. After leaving the manor Eugene immediately grabbed his mobile, pressed one key and waited for the connection. On the first ring, Dog answered in his usual military tone.

'Yes Sir.'

"The Rats are getting involved to track down the girl. Hopefully they're too doped up on their own product to get in the way, but if you do cross them keep them the fuck away from this operation."

"Will do Sir!"

"And the man?"

"Still hanging in there Sir."

"Stay where you are until further notice."

"Affirmative."

## Chapter 3

"Right there!" the officer exclaimed pointing to the computer screen. "You can see him approaching her." The technician hesitated a second before continuing on as his eyes scanned the footage before him, ".....now...look he says something .......and ...she turns around, recognizes him and a millisecond later has a startled reaction." Liam Cunningham was in a small, windowless, and heavily equipped computer room at Henry Street Garda station. He was viewing data from the Gerst Museum's security surveillance with the help of a young recruit and technical whiz, Derek. Not the outdoors type, Derek was a pale-faced, pudgy fella who looked like he came into the world with a computer in his hands. They were going through a frame by frame account of Ciara's arrival up to when she was approached by an unidentified man. From the statement Mags gave, Ciara had a routine from which she rarely, if ever, deviated. Once a week, every Friday to be exact she would go to the Gerst Museum even if it was to revisit an exhibition she had already seen twice or three times. There was something about the place which compelled her to wander its floors going through the thousands of items on display. The quality of the footage was superior to anything he had ever seen before, far from the grainy images they had so often to contend with. The museum obviously valued its treasures enough to install state of the art technology. It was Liam's first time seeing Ciara Thompson other than the single photo Mags had provided, which was later passed on to the media. On the screen, her hair was a little longer than Mags, but just as curly, holding the same blackness and texture. She was so petite, frail even – like she weighed no more than ninety pounds and change. And timid looking too, as if the world around her was too big. An easy victim was the most fitting description he could ascribe. He saw her eyes widen in shock at the sight of the man in front of her who towered over her four foot eight inch frame. Not a particularly tall fella all the same, no more than five foot nine from what Liam could tell.

"Can we get a close up of him?" Derek eagerly tapped several keys in rapid succession while explaining the problem. "I've reviewed this image about ten times and can only get a partial view of his face." With a final click of the mouse he said with a tone of disappointment, "this is the best I've come up with." The elongated jaws, stubbled chin and thin lips were all that was visible of the mystery man. The remainder of the face was hidden behind a black logo-less baseball cap slung low over his eyes.

"Not much to go on, is it?" Liam said thinking aloud.

"I know, but check this." Derek accelerated the image then had it regain a normal pace. "Okay, they seem to have spoken for about ten minutes, but if you wait a couple of seconds...look what he does just.....now." Liam frowned as the man showed his hand briefly to Ciara before putting it back in his pocket.

"What was that about?" Liam asked with a curious tone. "Go back to that last shot." Seconds later he saw exactly the same thing. "I've no idea what it means though." Liam observed the frozen image. The man had placed the front of his hand towards Ciara. Was it a threat, or was he enforcing a point, or an amount –five something? Whatever it was, Ciara looked at it for a long moment then give him a seemingly unenthusiastic nod. The man turned and walked out of the frame.

"The close-up of him we had just before that, can you give me a few print outs? It may only be a partial view of his face, but someone might recognize him." With the copies in his hand, Liam decided to go to the museum and question the staff about the mystery man.

*

Lucy's hand slipped slowly into the long rubber arms of the sealed incubator and gently reached across to the little pink hand barely twelve hours old. She watched in awe as five tiny digits closed firmly around her gigantic index finger and kept a steady hold. A perfect, beautifully formed person complete with a thick mop of silky black hair, a button nose and cherubic lips made Mags' baby flawless. Only the multiple apparatus monitoring everything from her heart and the little hole within it, the oxygen intake to other bodily functions denoted that all was not well. Hers was not the only incubator in the neo-natal intensive care unit, at least six other babies, all premature, were battling for survival. Anxious and weary parents sat by their off-spring giving the only thing they could: love.

"Hello Eloise" Lucy whispered to the sleeping beauty "I'm Lucy, your aunty – well an unofficial aunty, but an aunty nonetheless and I've come to say hello." As Lucy caressed the minute feet, she observed the erratic rising and lowering of the abdomen, and the reddening of a face wincing in pain. She bit her lip at the suffering of one so young and wondered if the medical powers-that-be were providing medication to ease what she going through. A mental note was made to ask the nurse about that.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" Lucy turned to see who had spoken and saw the dad from the neighboring incubator had wandered over.

"Yes, she is, absolutely beautiful."

"Myself and my wife saw her being brought in during the night and thought that she has a great chance of pulling through because she's full-term."

"Well, I really hope so too," Lucy replied, her eyes wandering towards the minute premature child enclosed in a germ-free environment and being caressed by his wife. It looked no larger than a pound of Kerrygold.

"And your baby, are things going okay there?" Despite the obviously long battle that lay ahead of them, the man's unquestioning positivism was immediately apparent.

"She's doing great. I mean little Anya is not out of the woods yet, but she's tough - a real fighter."

"You'll be attending her graduation yet!" Lucy announced spontaneously, not quite sure where that statement came from, but seeing the huge smile that crossed his face, it seemed to align exactly with his beliefs.

"I've only just said that very thing to my wife." Following a short pause filled with a beaming smile, he said, "why don't you come over and let me introduce you to my wife, Carmel. I know she'll take what you've just said as a sign." Giving false hope was the last thing Lucy felt like doing, especially seen as there was nothing substantial like medical knowledge behind it.

"Well I wouldn't want to disturb while she's with the baby." The man suddenly departed and Lucy wondered if she had offended him. It certainly wouldn't be the first time her lack of tact had ruffled some feathers. With a slight shrug she turned her attention back to Eloise whose eyes she had yet to see.

"I'm not very good company, am I, baby?" she said gently touching her head and cheek. "I tell you what, I'll go and say hi to your mammy and then I'll come back here for a chat." As Lucy eased her arms out of the long sterile gloves the man's wife approached timidly.

"She's a lovely big girl, isn't she?" Eloise weighed only five pounds, not exactly huge as babies go, but with all the other patients coming in at one pound and under, she looked like Cro-Magnon child.

"I suppose she is ....although Thumbelina comes to mind." Her attempt at humor was misplaced. The woman seemed at a loss for words from the blank stare she was giving Lucy.

"My husband talks to everyone," she said finally "I hope he didn't bother you."

"Not at all" Lucy said warmly "you can see he'll be a great father."

"Well this is our first, so it's a bit hard to see her so tiny and struggling." The fear of losing her baby seemed to bring her close to tears and she turned by way of a diversion towards the sleeping new born.

"She's your first?"

"Oh, I'm not the mother." Lucy replied softly "this is my friend's baby, so I'm more of an aunty."

"We heard the mother wasn't doing well, that's why I asked; we thought there had been a miraculous recovery." In this small unit stories circulated with surprising speed. It was born from a natural curiosity or a collective will to have Mom and baby do well more than anything else. Still, just as this woman didn't want to discuss the fear of losing her child, Lucy did not feel like talking about her friend's life which was currently holding by a thread. It was just so surreal, one minute she's talking with Mags, the next she's whipped away undergoing God knows what kind of treatment.

"Well, I had better get going. It was really nice meeting you," and with that she turned and quickly left the neo natal unit and headed for Mags' room.

*

"In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit, amen." The bulbous thumb dipped lightly into a silver cylindrical vial cupped in the young priest's hand then proceeded to make the sign of the cross on Mags' forehead. Two solemn faced, corpulent ladies in their mid-sixties, who Lucy thought were nuns sans habits stood at the foot of the bed, their hands joined in prayer. Lucy had gone straight to the nurse's station and was told Mags was in the intensive care unit. They explained that she was gravely ill and had been put on a machine to help her breathe. Lucy wanted more information but was told a doctor would come to speak with her soon. They hadn't mentioned there were other visitors.

"Lord, we pray for our dear sister Mags'...."

"She's not dead!!!!!" Lucy exclaimed brusquely approaching the bed as if to shield off death itself. Three heads turned in surprised unison at the outburst, which was immediately followed by disapproving looks and clucks from both ladies. The priest however, once over the initial jolt, smiled peacefully and introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm Father Purcell, the hospital Chaplain." She nodded a curt hello.

"Why are you giving this woman last rites? She isn't dead you know! That life-support machine is operating for a reason!" A wide smile crossed his face, "you're right of course, yes. But this is something I do for all patients who are as unwell as Mags is here."

"Oh!" Lucy said feeling silly.

"Are you a family member?"

"I'm her best friend, Lucy Courtney."

"Well, I can see you're a very good and protective friend Lucy, and I'm sure Mags' aunts here are happy to know how concerned you are for their niece's welfare.

'Aren't you ladies?" he gestured encouragingly. The two similarly dressed women nodded then moved toward Lucy and all shook hands. Both women spoke to Lucy at the same time. The questions and comments were different making her head turn from left to right like one following a tennis ball at Wimbledon. They always had a frown and a disapproving look that seemed enhanced by a slightly bulging eye on one and an upturned grin on the other. Lucy felt a bit intimidated by them but their politeness and sincerity won her over. By the time the priest left the room Lucy managed to catch that the aunts had just arrived from England; were very distraught about Mags, had no meal on the plane, needed tea, and would stay as long as necessary but there would be conditions. She didn't get a chance to ask them what they meant by conditions because the attending physician entered the room and asked to speak with the aunts in private. To Lucy's great relief the doctor was told Lucy was as good as family and to speak his mind. The fresh looking bearded man stooped towards them as if they may be hard of hearing.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but after numerous tests including a scan, we have found that Mags' no longer has any brain activity..... at all." The words delivered a savage blow to Lucy's heart. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Her eyes took in the red bristles surrounding his thin red lips pressed together.

"The seizure" her mouth moved slowly but she was screaming inside. Her pallor must have changed drastically because his eyes widened.

"Miss are you okay?" The only part of her not feeling paralyzed was her racing heart.

"No brain activity" she repeated as if her mouth had been injected with Novocain. Her eyes turned to the aunts who were hugging each other in silent suffering.

"I'm afraid so."

"I don't ....I mean I can't see how...we were talking....." Life took on a normal speed as the initial shock subsided slightly. The man continued his explanation.

"There wasn't anything else we could do. The eclampsia led to the grand mal seizure, which ultimately led to massive scarring on the brain and consequently life support."

"But, Mags is breathing" Lucy interjected. "She's alive!"

"True, the machine creates the same effect as her lungs but cannot help revitalize brain functioning. And this unfortunately brings us to the extremely hard task of taking decisions." Lucy's head was spinning. Mags couldn't be gone! She was young. They had chatted only hours earlier. How could they say she was gone? How could you be alive one minute and brain dead the next? They were friends since forever. They were supposed to grow old together and still be as close as they were now. There had never been talk of dying. That was reserved for octogenarians in senior citizen's centers. Suddenly the words the doctor said resonated.

"Decisions? What sort of decisions?"

"Well, do you know how Mags felt about being kept alive artificially?"

"Kept alive?" The man was using terms that had never crossed her mind.

"Miss Courtney" he said with a kind tone, "It's hard I know, but I really need you to help me here." She held back the flood of sorrow caught in her throat.

"No, we never discussed anything like that."

"So you wouldn't know if Mags had a signed an inaptitude clause as part of her testament?"

"Maybe her sister, or husband would know, but neither of them are here." A soft voice called over the intercom Code blue intensive care, code blue intensive care.' Whatever the announcement meant, the doctor was involved. His entire body language changed as he went on alert.

"I have to go" he said already walking away from her. "Can you try and find out.....Now?" He hurried back, placed his card in her hand then turned away.

"Why right now?" She called with a tone of frustration. "What is so pressing?" He stopped and turned to face her. "We really need to know about her wishes concerning organ donation." He sprinted towards the end of the corridor.

*

Liam was seated in the Gerst Museum's second floor restaurant. He had just finished reading his notes and with a mug of black coffee in hand, mulled over the information acquired from questioning the employees. The customer service clerks, administration staff and security guards were all courteous and forthcoming with whatever questions he asked. But something, some detail he couldn't quite put his finger on, had him perplexed. He flipped the pages back to the account from the young security guard, Wright, who confirmed Ciara was a regular and who remembered the day she talked to the unidentified man. The way Wright's eyes lit up when he saw her photo told Liam the young fella was carrying a bit of a flame for her. Liam checked the date Wright referred to. It was weeks earlier. Liam dialled the main desk at the station from his mobile and asked for the technician Derek who screened the footage earlier. There were no niceties needed with the Whiz.

"What date de ya have on the images we looked at?"

"Am...let me just check here." Liam waited while Derek brought up the data with more ferocious clicking.

"It was.....August fourteenth.!"

"The fourteenth? But Ciara left on August fifteenth and hasn't been seen since."

"Well, it's definitely the fourteenth we have here."

"Feck it anyway!" Liam said pushing away the empty coffee cup in frustration. "According to the sister, Mags, Ciara had been to the museum that day."

"Security sent us data from the wrong date??"' Derek asked in annoyance. "I mean how often did she go there?"

"One fella said fairly often", Liam said pensively. "But this is good because if she met our John Doe or other John Doe's we may get a better look at him, or them."

"On which date?"

"We'll start from the day she went missing, and go as far back as needed." The technician's shift was supposed to be ending, but with this new information he knew there was a long viewing night ahead. "Okay" he said reaching for an energy drink, "bring them all in then."

By the time Liam returned to the station he had enough work to keep Derek confined from all social activity for a while. Liam produced a consolation prize of an extra-large cream coffee and slice of cake from Hanny's Tea House on Catherine Street – the best the city had to offer.

"Jaysus, you're spoiling me!" Derek exclaimed.

"It's to prevent any complaining from you later on in the evening."

"It'll work" he said eagerly taking the desert "but only because it's from Hanny's."

"So this is the first footage we'll view is of the fifteenth, right?" Liam took a long sip of his coffee "Yep, that's it."

"Okay, do we have a time frame?"

"We know she worked in the mornings, so it was the afternoon...most likely." With rapid expertise, the image was accelerated from opening hours through the morning and then halted at noon.

"Okay, let's go through this at moderate speed until we locate her then I'll slow things down." Liam nodded and both men sat back eyes fixed on the screen. At exactly two p.m. on the tape, Ciara walked into the foyer, purchased a ticket then made her way to the new exhibition. She had just begun to look at the Egyptian sculpture when a man approached her.

"Stop!" Liam gushed. "'Give me a close up on him." Seconds later they were looking at the same mystery man. The cap was still slung too low over the face to see the features clearly.

"Go slowly over the next few frames and print each one as we pass them." Liam watched as the man interacted with Ciara in what appeared to be a relaxed, casual manner. His clothing looked shabby. Ciara was not smiling, if anything the posture of her tiny frame denoted nervousness as her arms remained crossed tightly over her chest and apart from nodding a couple of times, Liam did not see her speak once. Then suddenly they vanished from the screen and were caught on another camera exiting the museum together. The remainder of the tape was checked to see if either one came back, and when they didn't he stopped screening.

"Okay, brilliant." Liam said sarcastically while reaching for the printed copies "at least we have as good an image as the last time." Derek nodded then stood up, "grand. I'll set up the next bunch of images. We're in for a long night of it." Just then Liam's phone rang. It was Kevin calling from Dublin. No doubt he had just finished his shift. After they exchanged the usual greeting and subsequent arrangements to meet over the weekend Kevin asked if he had any more information about the missing girl. Liam knew his friend well enough that this was no ordinary case enquiry. Sure he was asking after the girl, but he was also fishing for information on Lucy. In Liam's somewhat old fashioned, but honorable book Kevin was married and therefore permanently off limits to the likes of Lucy Courtney. If anything he felt annoyed that Kevin was vain enough to still want to feel the need to chase women.

"It's coming along grand. So we'll see ya soon?" Kevin answered he would and they hung up

*

Lucy grabbed the handle of a large battered looking trunk sitting at the bottom of a built-in wardrobe and heaved it out of the confined space with vein-popping effort. She had gone through Mags' entire house desperately searching for a will or other legal document that would relieve the burden of deciding any end-of-life care for her friend and had come up with what she declared was 'shag all'. This trunk was her last hope. Both brass snaps were broken so gaining access was no trouble at all. The heavy lid creaked momentarily as if protesting being disturbed, but it was Lucy who ended up disturbed, the smell of mothballs whacked her like a knuckle to the nose. Camphor tablets must have been stock piled in there. All sorts of documents were kept in neat bundles which were bound in plastic covering and held together with elastic bands. They were even labelled. God! Mags was organized à la Martha Stewart. She passed over documents to do with house insurance, life insurance, the mortgage, personal loan, car purchase and then came across one labelled Solicitors Downe & Daley. She lifted it out, her heart skipping a beat and moments later in her trembling hands she held Mags last will and testament. Never in her wildest dreams would Lucy have thought a moment of elation and sadness could be felt at the same time, but that's exactly what happened. The will would put into effect how Mags wanted her life to end, but the fact that they were even dealing with such a matter meant she was losing the dearest friend she had ever known. Biting back a sea of emotion Lucy took a deep breath to help her keep it all together. This was drama on a level she never wanted to experience again. In the aftermath of when a stranger had tried to kill her, she had done everything in her power to keep life simple and low key. And for the most part that worked well until now. Lucy quickly scanned over the lawyerly worded document. It basically stipulated that in the event of death of either spouse Mags and Tim were respectively bequeathing all assets to one another. In the event of them dying together, Mags' mother became sole custodian of their affaires including any children born to them. Lucy frowned and checked the date. It was written eight years earlier, and nothing was mentioned about inaptitude. Feeling totally deflated she returned the papers as neatly as she had found them and was about to close the lid when something caught her eye, a similar bundle entitled, 'Fucking Tim'. Obviously the Tim part was identical to all the other labels, but the 'fucking' part had been hand written in red ink and placed before the original label. Curiosity compelled her to remove the file and leaf through the contents. A stack of credit card bills and threatening letters from the bank revealed the financial crisis they faced. Lucy saw how indebted they were. Mags was thrifty and wouldn't throw caution to the wind like that so it seemed odd for them to be in such dire straits. On closer inspection she realized it was Tim who had been careless with their money. Endless credit card cash advance transactions were made at all hours of the day and night. Mags had angrily written his name across all the receipts and who could blame her. He was going through money like toilet paper. Why ?, Was he drinking it? Buying sex with it? Or....... had Ciara started using drugs and Tim was financing her habit? Had Mags found out and become so mad she threw him out and added the adjective to the label?

Baffled at what had triggered their current circumstances, she began piling the papers back on top of one another and reflexively caught a beige envelope which fell out. She recognized the sender: Solicitors Downe & Daley. It was unopened. She didn't waste a second in tearing it open and unfolding the single sheet of paper.

Dear Ms. Thompson,

I would like to confirm the amendments made to your will as requested. A new copy can be procured at our office anytime during business hours.

Concerning the re-mortgaging of your house; I have concluded a repayment agreement with the financial institution in question based on the recent deposit and will gladly provide these details when you can meet with me.

Thanking you

Bernard Downe

Lucy noted the address of the solicitors, quickly put everything away and rushed to her car. She needed to meet with Bernard Downe.

*

"What have you so far?" Hammer Higgins asked of his personal body guard Donny Dunne. The man had almost been born into the fold, he was with them so long and Higgins trusted him as much as he trusted anyone, which was very little. Still he was the best choice to use in the search for the girl Eugene Morris lost. Dunne rubbed his clean shaven round face. The sleeves of his black leather jacket protested the extent to which they were stretched over a frame bulked up from a passion for body-building. Nine stubby fingers held a number of grotesque rings and the imprint of their decorative forms could be found permanently embedded in the faces of several men in the city. The tenth digit was bitten off during his last prison stay, a memory best forgotten. As always, he cracked his knuckles before speaking his particular dialect.

"He has one mad fookur workin for him Boss-man. Dis fella 'Dog' whose lookin' for de gerrl? Well I axed around an' found out tha' he's some Black Ops fookur – did some really fooked up tings in a dozen countries and has every pig police agency huntin' him. Nobody's even come close to nabbin' him. From wha' I heard, my money's on him foindin' de gerrl before us." Higgins spoke impatiently albeit weakly, "he better not! Anyway he's one man, Donny. I have no time to waste. Just get the lads togetheh' 'n get movin." Donny nodded cracking his knuckles, "already ahead of you dere boss-man. I phoned de Dog an' he said we'd be best coverin' the gerrl's sister. She's due a baba any day 'n chances are de gerrl may show up for the birth, or at least afterwards."

"Where does the sister live?"

"In Limerick, same as de gerrl. I`m heading dere now. We've got all d'info from de Dog."

"And if she isn't there?" Higgins asked. Another snapping of joints, "we'll shake her up until she tells us where de gerrl is."

"Why haven't you gone already?" Higgins asked gruffly. "I haven't weeks to dance around de fookin May poale."

"I'm gone Boss" Donny said rising quickly. "I'll call ya after I meet wit deh Dog."

*

Lucy sighed as she checked her watch for the millionth time. Bernard Downe was certainly in no hurry to see her, and even if the receptionist kindly supplied a never-ending consortium of magazines and biscuits with perfectly made tea, her patience was rapidly dwindling. She had been waiting, albeit comfortably, a whole forty minutes. The receptionist received a message into the grey ear piece that perfectly matched a tear-drop shaped earring, nodded eagerly then smiled at Lucy.

"Mr Downe will see you now, Miss Courtney."

"Thank-You" _Miss Receptionist._ In truth, Lucy had been expecting to see a dithering old man with saliva control problems slumped behind an oversized ornate desk, but after walking into the office of Bernard Downe she had been mistaken on both counts. A sharply dressed, absolute ride of a thirties-something man was sitting at a glass-top desk with no drool hanging from his mouth at all. Wavy brown hair was sexily brushed to the side as she approached.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting Miss Courtney" he said offering his hand along with a wide white smile that reflected major investments in dental perfection.

"Hello Mr Downe. I know I don't have an appointment, but I've come about a pressing matter' she said getting right to the point 'it's concerning Mags Thompson....I......"

"Rrrright" he said with a cautious look. "You know I cannot discuss client's affaires with unauthorized individuals." Lucy paused for a moment giving the solicitor a puzzled look. Realizing he had jumped the gun, he apologized for a second time in ten seconds.

"I've interrupted, you, haven't I? I'm so terribly sorry." Third time. "How is Mags by the way? Had her baby yet? Happily rocking the cradle?" he laughed nervously.

"Mags is brain dead, her baby girl is in intensive care, her sister is missing, presumed dead and her husband has run off. That's how she's doing." Okay that was totally uncalled for because all he had done was interrupted her. Still, she had his attention now.

"Christ almighty" he gushed turning a shade of pasty green. "You can't be serious!! Brain dead! I mean...I just saw her this week" he gulped "here in my office. We...... chatted...I can't believe....I've known Mags for years, you know and.....I just can't believe it. I'm so sorry." Fourth time.

"That's why I'm here" Lucy said calmly. " I need to speak to you about...." She stopped as he raised his index finger to indicate 'one moment please' and headed to a frosted glass cabinet behind him. Lucy rolled her eyes, she was never going to get out of here. He produced a bottle of expensive single malt whiskey and two glasses.

"Please, join me" he said hastily pouring triple shots.

"No thank you."

"Right then" he said downing the first glass and taking the second in his hand "I'll help myself."

"Mr Downe" Lucy said with exasperation "I need you to help me."

"Of course!" He nodded taking another swig.

"Mags made amendments to her will this week. I need to know if they included end-of-life-care. And if so, who was authorized to execute those instructions." He went to protest but she interrupted him 'I don't want to see the document, I just need you to contact them so they can...know what her wishes were.' He hesitated a moment then pressed a button on his phone and asked Elaine the tea making receptionist to bring him the Thompson file then quickly drained off his second extra large whiskey. Lucy tried to convince Bernard- the lush-Downe that no other person, she knew of, remained to help Mags and time was of the essence. He dawdled further until the threat of suing him ultimately made him give her the information. Two minutes later she had the entire file in hand.

Quickly scouring the document Lucy learned that Mags had cut Tim from the will completely and had begun separation proceedings. She cited irreconcilable differences in their financial management as the reason for this action. Scanning down further, she stopped at the words 'inaptitude clause'. There were lots of details, but the bottom line was; in the event of her losing all capacity to function normally i.e. neuro-vegetative state ending all care should be immediately put into effect and organs are to be donated. Lucy let out a long sigh and felt a flood well in her eyes. Bernard Downe knocked back another whisky. She grabbed tissues from her handbag but the gates had opened and tears flowed copiously. Words on a piece of paper had lifted a very heavy burden from her heart but she ached to think of never seeing Mags again. From her mobile phone she dialled the number on the doctor's card and left a voice mail with the information and saying a copy of the document was being faxed immediately. Her message ended by asking him what was going to happen next. A slightly tipsy Bernard reached across the glass table and patted Lucy's hand in sympathy. This started what she would later describe as 'the confession.'

"Mags and I went to the same electrocution lessons, you know" he slurred slightly.

"What?" Lucy said wiping her eyes.

"Sorry" he laughed. Fifth apology. "Elocution lessons. Both our mothers were a bit psycho. Drove us insane trying to mould us into something like those perfect kids from that flying British nanny movie. Whatwashername again...Poppy something? Anyway, I actually began to like going there because of the laugh I would have with Mags. Even kissed her once behind the class door. In my defence I was only twelve at the time, but we ended up dating for a while in our late teens." All of a sudden the penny dropped loudly with Lucy "you're that Ben!!!!"

"What do you mean that Ben" he asked eyeing her suspiciously.

"You were Mags' first...sha...first lover.' His face reddened like Irish skin under a Spanish sun.

"How do you know that?"

"Mags is like a sister to me, we told each other almost everything." The same coin fell again only with him this time.

"You're Lanky Loo. Mags' best friend?" Well it wasn't very flattering being called an elongated toilet, but she raised her hand and said "present." They both laughed heartily and began wandering down memory lane.

"Did Mags ever tell you I asked her to marry me?" Now it was Lucy's turn to eye him suspiciously.

"You did not' she scoffed 'Mags would have told me!"

"I did too! It was the night of her hen party..." he raised his finger once more to pause. Then went back to the frosted glass cabinet, opened the lower door, which hid a fridge, took out a bottle of champagne, two crystal flutes, then turning to Lucy said "we'll need the really big guns for this." After they chinked glasses to Mags , downed the golden bubbles rapidly then refilled the glasses and downed them again before Ben went on.

"You all went to The Windmill Pub that night, right?"

"Correct your Honor!" God she was feeling a little tipsy and with nothing in her stomach to soak up the effects either, she was headed for sloshville.

"Remember when later in the evening none of you could find Mags?"

"That's right" Lucy recalled "she got lost on the way to the ladies."

"Ha!" he laughed mockingly. "And you all believed it."

"We were pissed and the place was packed, " she conceded grudgingly. He continued pouring more champagne into their half-empty glasses "anyway, I was there that night and took her off to "our private spot" and begged her to marry me.... instead of that bastard Tim who'd sell his mother for a blasted deck of cards."

"What are you talking about?" Lucy asked in shocked bewilderment "Tim is a sound fella, or at least was up until recently. I've known him for years. He's always been nice to his mother." He rolled his eyes and looked at her as if to say poor fool.

"Tim the-bollocks Thompson is a hard core gambler who would con our Lord if he thought he could get away with it." The credit card transactions were for gambling Lucy thought. But Tim never appeared to be the gambling type.

"I don't believe you!" He raised his thumb as if to begin counting.

"His first fraudulent act was committed one month prior to his high school graduation."

"No way!!" Lucy interjected. "We hung out together all the time, I'd have known if he was a confidence trickster."

"Did Tim usually have loads of cash, one day and nothing the next?"

"Well, yes, but weren't all teenagers like that?" More champagne was poured. "Okay Luce, tell me this, was Tim at your graduation party."

"No, but that was because he was visiting a sick relative in England."

"Bull-shit!Mr Tim was in a remand center for troubled youth for two and a half months."

"You're making this up!" He finished off his glass turned his laptop around so she could see the screen. The life and times of a person she had considered a close friend appeared in full view along with mug shots, arrest reports, judgments and sentences served. Tim Thompson was nothing but a petty thug.

"How did he hide it from us all" Lucy asked bewildered "from Mags too?"

"Mags knew about it for ages. But what she didn't know was the extent of trouble he was in. She wanted to leave him but he begged and pleaded for forgiveness, promised to change, and I suppose she really believed him because they left shortly afterwards on some trip around Europe."

"Yes, that's right. I was supposed to go but couldn't.....last minute thing." This time Lucy refilled their glasses and sipped silently remembering her grandmother Hannah and the awful feeling of loss when she passed away. Bernard was suddenly speaking again.

"His gudh behavior didn't last very long an' he was back to his old tricks. Mags suspected as much too, but it was only when the bank chame knockin' on the....on the door that she realized what he had done."

"What had he done?"

"Ran off leavin' her to re-mortgage the house to cover his debts. And as far as I know he even owes money in the street."

"To loan sharks?"

"Oh yes!" He downed an entire glass of bubbly.

"Fuck!"

"Exaglee! Fuch. Here have some more champagne. It's good stuff ."

"Bernard how sure are you about this whole loan shark thing?"

"Very."

"Who told you?"

"Mags."

"When"

"Last week. Why?"

"No reason." The last of the champagne was poured and when Lucy finished off her glass she asked for a photocopy of Mags' documents.

"No problem Loo" he said with a slur. Then leaning heavily on the intercom button, asked Elaine "can you make a photocopy of poor Mags' tessment for Lanky Loo. Tanks." Lucy quickly interrupted "make that the entire file."

"Laine" he called back into the phone "Loosaidcopytheentirefile! Tanchs"

Minutes later armed with a thick envelop in hand, Lucy stood up to leave then realized she was a more than a little unsteady on her feet.

"Hey Lanks, where are you going now?"

"Back to the hospital. Why?"

"Can I come?"

"Why not!" she shrugged. "Mags might as well have the only man who really loved her there when she passes away." In a gesture of profound gratitude, he stumbled around from his side of the desk and hugged Lucy closely. "Tanchs Lanks."

*

If looks could kill, the daggers they got from the aunts, doctors and other hospital staff would have caused instant death. And justly so – Ben and Lucy were drunk and reeked of alcohol. But Ben was not a man who could hold six whiskeys and a half a bottle of champagne very well and swayed dangerously while attempting to stand straight. They had been unceremoniously shepherded into a bleak waiting room while the paperwork and other procedures were followed. Apparently Mags' organs would be removed very swiftly and they were getting this final moment to say goodbye. Ben was soon snoozing on her shoulder as she stared blankly at the wall ahead. Here she was once again saying goodbye to a loved one in a hospital. Her parents had gone that way, her grandmother, and now Mags. Maybe that's why she got lalooed on the bubbly, she couldn't face seeing another friend leave amidst the aromatic blend of boiled food and disinfectant.

Liam Cunningham entered the room, took one look at Lucy and shook his head in fraternal pity. But before he said a word he opened the window shooting a look of disgust at the man with his head on her shoulder.

"Are you okay there Lucy?" he asked with what seemed like brotherly concern.

"I s'pose I am Liam" she replied with a slight slur of inebriation, "but if I were to be perfitly honest I would have to say that Kevin is a right shite. He just fecks off and marries the first wan to come along without even a thought to Luce from Limerick. Fuchin thanks for the memries." All of a sudden Bernard sat up, took in his surroundings, especially Liam in uniform and began to babble.

"I'm sorry for our present state.......my fault to be honest....you see.....Lucy came over......"

"Stop apologizing!" Lucy said hotly. "It's very annoying....sorry this....sorry that.For fuck's sake you're going to have to be a bit more assertive ...kay?" Bernard began to protest this view of his personality but didn't get a chance to say much as the hospital chaplain entered the room.

"Right now friends" he said quickly offering Silvermints to everyone, "we need to do this quickly as Mags' surgery is being held up so we can have this little farewell." They filed out silently and sombrely, crossing the corridor to the room where the aunts had laid Mags out in a beautiful white silk dress. Her hair was combed into wavy locks and a single pink rose was placed in her hand. She looked perfectly peaceful as everyone gathered around the bed while prayers began for the repose of her soul. The chaplain spoke of Mags as being a loving wife, daughter, sister and friend who unfortunately didn't have the chance to experience the wonders of motherhood. She would be sorely missed by all those who truly loved her. Bernard's sobs started at that moment. The Chaplain nodded in understanding then invited each person to say something they'd always carry in their hearts about Mags. Just as he made the sign of the cross on her forehead the teary-eyed aunts spoke of unforgettable visits where giggles and games of hide and go seek still echoed in their house. Liam spoke ofMags' courage, her unrelenting love for Ciara and unstoppable determination in finding her sister – unfortunately at great cost.

Distraught, Lucy sobered up enough to describe a friend like no other, where a childhood bond had given her a sister she never thought she'd have. Bernard Downe, who actually managed to collect himself, said after hiccupping loudly that Mags had truly been his soul mate and he'd like to order a paternity test.

*

Donny Dunne and two other gang members pulled up in front of the Thompson home in the middle-class neighborhood of Castletroy. The five bedroom red-bricked house stood alone on a sizeable piece of land surrounded on three sides by young Birch trees. A looped driveway curved up to the main entrance then continued on to form an exit on the other side. A perfectly kept lawn sat inside the horseshoe-shaped path. There was a vacant feel about the place. "see if anyone is home. It's only five in the evenin" he announced to his two companions "someone should be there." Signaling the driver to pull up to the front door, he cautiously exited the Range Rover and rang the doorbell. There was no clattering of feet approaching, no voices were heard, nothing barked. Nobody was about.

"I'll pop 'round de back an' take a quick look." He returned minutes later having found nothing. "De Dog-man said she was abouh to sprout a sprog, we'll axe which hospittle dey go to heerh to have de babbas."

When they drove into the center of the city, they stopped at the top of Gerald-Griffin Street to ask where they could find the maternity hospital. It seemed like such a simple question, but turned out to be complicated.

"Scuse me Missus" Donny called to a pedestrian while lowering the window of the car. The hefty middle-aged woman, who was carrying two large shopping bags stopped in her tracks and looked towards the person who had called from the side of the road.

"Hello" she answered a little cautiously.

"Sarry, we don't know this place atallatall an' we were wunderin, where are de babbas are born?" The question, whatever it was, definitely took her by surprise, she thought they'd needed directions, but couldn't make out what he said. Placing her bags gently on the ground she fixed her headscarf then approached the door and said "where is it you're headed?" Donny thought he had been perfectly clear, but maybe the woman was a bit hard of hearing. So, raising his voice to help with the deafness, he replied "I dunno yet, dats why I'm axin 'bout where de babbas are born. I taut you'd know seen as you look loike yev had a few sprogs yerself" he chuckled. "'n those sprogs had sprogs o' der own. You know wha' I mean like." Obviously feeling incapable of understanding anything they wanted, the woman called to another woman passing by whom she happened to know well. When the second woman joined them, the first one explained the problem.

"Lizzie, didja ever hear of a place called Debabas Arborne? These men are trying to find frogs there, but I've never heard of it before." Lizzie, was certain she heard of the place and eagerly provided directions to a small guest house called Aubourne thirty miles away. The men drove off after thanking the ladies for their help.

*

Once dressed, showered and no longer hung over, Lucy made her way back to the hospital to see baby Eloise. The aunts had been keeping vigil since their arrival and had not left her side, except to prepare Mags for her passing. Their endless kindness and devotion showed in the little things they did for the baby –taking turns to always have contact with her, all the while talking softly and encouraging her to hang in there and be strong. Lucy marvelled at their energy, as her own felt depleted and she decades younger than them. Whatever they were taking, she wanted some. Now while the aunts were wonderful towards the baby, Bernard Downe's announcement of his possible contribution to Mags' pregnancy had turned them much frostier than previously. Ignoring the glaring duo, Lucy made her way over to Eloise and was surprised to find her awake. Two searing blue eyes blinked back at her and kept a riveted hold. Lucy's smile broke into a soft laugh of delight as tears welled up in her eyes. She was looking at a miniature Mags.

"Eloise" she whispered "you're so beautiful." Oblivious to what was being said, the baby looked away and within a minute was asleep again. Still smiling, Lucy turned around and came face to face with the hardened stares and folded arms. No word of a hello was spoken only a gruff "will he be coming in here again?" Feckin' biddies Lucy thought.

"He?" Lucy asked in raised eyebrows doe-eyed confusion, which they didn't buy for one second.

"You know well enough who!" said the one whose eye bulged wider than average.

"Oh, right! You mean Bernard." The upturned grin and the eye joined forces and she couldn't handle both anomalies at the same time. "Look, I have no idea. I never met the man until today!"

"Well if he thinks he's getting our Georgina, he's greatly mistaken." Lucy hoped to God they weren't referring to Eloise, but just to be sure she asked, "Georgina?"

"The child of course!" upturned grin replied. "We told you there'd be conditions and one of them is we raise the child exactly as we see fit. That includes names." Lucy took the chart suspended at the foot of the crib and showed the aunts where it was written 'name' and beside it was 'Eloise'.

"You see, her name is Eloise, not Georgina, Eloise." They scoffed in unison "But sure that's a ridiculous name." Lucy couldn't believe it.

"Her name is Eloise and you can't just change the baby's name because you don't like it!" Bulging eye spoke with tight angry lips "Well we can and we will. We're her next of kin and legal guardians."

"You're not!" Upturned grin walked off while bulging eye used her corpulent body as a barricade between Lucy and the baby. Moments later a security guard walked in accompanied by the other wicked witch of the west and ordered him to escort Lucy off the premises. Lucy remained calm and explained what was happening. The guard gently asked her to leave anyway. Once outside the hospital she took out her phone, woke Bernard Downe from an alcohol-induced slumber and asked him to meet her immediately.

"This late?" he grumbled.

"It's important. I'll see you at the.....no not a pub...just come over to my place, it'll be easier that way." She left him her address then hung up. In a last ditch attempt to get answers, Lucy phoned Tim's cell one more time and let it ring until she got his voice mail.

"Tim, you really, really need to call me. You have a daughter, Eloise – not Georgina. Okay?? Just call me back." With that she headed home.

As Lucy drove out of the hospital parking lot, the car containing three very frustrated gang members passed her by.

"Fookin sent to de back o' beyonds instead o' heeh," Donny complained bitterly. They had driven for a couple hours more than was necessary because of those two biddies who were deaf! "Roigh', I'll go in 'n axe if de sister had the bab...choild! I'll be ouh in ten minutes den we're getting de fook outta heeh. Fookin mad place" he said as he closed the car door behind him. Donny approached the reception area and enquired if a Mags Madden came in to have her baby. The receptionist checked the computer list twice but found no one of that name. Frustrated even more, he took out his mobile phone and asked the Dog what kind of fucked up information he had. The Dog patiently explained that he had provided both names, Ciara Madden and her sister's name, Mags Thompson. Donny returned to the reception and gave the correct name. The girl's expression changed when she entered the name in the system.

"Are you a family member?" Sensing something was up Donny admitted he was. The girl nodded then left her desk to place a call out of earshot.

"Somebody will be with you momentarily," she said upon returning to her seat.

Two minutes later a nurse approached Donny and taking him aside explained reverently how Mags had died giving birth. Playing the role well, he asked if he could speak with her sister Ciara. The nurse said there was no Ciara, or at least she didn't see her. Donny thanked her then left saying he had to make funeral arrangements. Once in the car he explained to his companions, "de gerrl didn't even turn up for hur sister's babbyin'. Imagine dah! And she died havin de baba." The others agreed it was low alright. Donny continued "well dis wan we're lookin for is a roigh' bitch by de sounds of it. I'll have no trouble knockin' hur about when de toime comes!"

*

With a frothy café latte in hand, Bernard Downe searched Lucy's face for the reason why she had summoned him so commandingly to her kitchen. Even though he liked her, she was a tad bossy and intimidating.

"What Lucy?," he asked feeling discomfort from her piercing gaze.

"Tell me about you and Mags." She was deadly serious and instantly he knew skirting around the issue would not work. But he felt ashamed and talking about it didn't feel right.

"That's private."

"Not anymore it isn't. Your declaration earlier changes everything."

"How's that?" Lucy wasn't in the mood for this ring-around-the-rosy carry on at all.

"Look, just come straight out with it. Are you the father of her child or not?" He winced and squirmed nervously on his chair like he was fighting a losing battle for colonic control. Finally he managed to say "I...I could be the father.'

'Could be? How sure are you?" He was totally taken aback. He was expecting her to be angry and indignant with him, after all, if it was his fault she got pregnant, then it was his fault she died giving birth. He was never having sex...ever again.

"You're okay with this?" He enquired. "You just lost your best friend!"

"Look, I'm not here to judge anyone. What you had with Mags is your business, and in all honesty, if she loved you enough to be intimate with you then her marriage to Tim must have been well and truly over."

"So why did you ask me here?"

"Let's say, you are the father, how will that affect you?"

"Well, I'll be thrilled, of course."

"No, you don't understand" her frown matched the tone of annoyance. "Tell me what impact this news will have on your life?" His mouth was slightly agape, his posture slouched and his expression blank. Lucy wanted to shake him, but reiterated the question "what would being a father mean to you?"

"I don't know really." Sweat began to form on his forehead. "I hadn't thought about it to be honest." She pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment before looking at him.

"So, if I say to you Bernard, a tiny helpless baby - your flesh and blood - is out there in the maternity hospital as we speak. How would you react?" He looked lost for a moment so Lucy pushed it "well Bernard? Come on...answer me! How would you feel about being a father??" He suddenly bolted over to the sink and vomited loudly.

"Great!" Lucy exclaimed with inverted lips then headed to the cupboard removed a pair of disposable gloves, kitchen paper and a bottle of bleach, "that excited are you?"

"Sorry, it's just that I never drink like I did today. It's still in my system." This was not going as she had planned. "Get some water out of the fridge and go lie down on the couch." For the second time that day, Lucy saw him turn a pasty shade of green and stumble awkwardly about. She shook her head, turned on the water and watched the vomit drain away. Their second conversation of the evening was much more constructive. Bernard had regained his composure and spoke openly about how he and Mags had a short, passionate affair ten months earlier. He wanted her to leave Tim, and she was considering it, but their secret encounters suddenly ended and he didn't see her again despite trying to contact her for weeks and weeks on end. Last week she showed up at his office, nine months pregnant.

"Did you ask if the baby was yours?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"She said she didn't know."

"But you think she did?"

"Yes."

"So why not take the paternity test and confirm it once and for all."

"Because.....because I'm scared." Lucy looked at him sympathetically.

"You're right. It is a scary thing – parenthood. But it is also a really beautiful thing."

"How would you know?" He asked huffily. "You don't have any kids." Lucy felt flustered. "Well....I don't know at all, but...." Bernard suddenly burst out laughing and Lucy couldn't help but feel annoyed.

"What's so funny?" she enquired.

"You're just like our old parish priest – talking about the wonders of family, parenthood and all that and you haven't a family yourself!!!!!" Lucy felt she had just been slapped. There she was trying to get him used to the idea of parenthood and he's making a skit of it.

"Well, let's call it a night." She said politely but with a tone of finality.

"Sorry, Luce...I didn't mean to upset you."

"You haven't ....at all. Just think about taking that paternity test. Okay? Eloise doesn't have a mother, but she certainly will be needing a father" then with a quick goodbye, unceremoniously ushered him out the door.

*

That same night a phone message came in which Lucy decided to ignore. " _Lucy? It's Liam Cunningham. When you get this message will you come to the station as soon as possible? I have something I need you to see. Thanks._ "

## Chapter 4

Two days had passed since Mags died and Lucy hadn't done much except sleep, cry and mope around the house. Their final conversation played over and over in her head. Would Mags be alive if she hadn't threatened to call off the search for Ciara? A resounding 'yes' burned through her brain. The funeral was the only outing undertaken. The aunts had organized it and the subsequent reception. Lucy attended the burial from a distance then headed straight back home. She had no desire to see or speak with anyone. In the wake of Mags' passing everything seemed to take too much of an effort to accomplish, so she just roamed aimlessly going mainly from the bed to the couch and back again. Even answering the phone was a feat she could not face. The light continuously flashed indicating more messages had come in but she chose to ignore them. The same was true for the post coming through the letter box, the dishes piling up in the sink of what little she had eaten, and the laundry accumulating in the hamper. The thing that was most difficult was not seeing Eloise, but the thought of facing the aunts or anyone else for that matter was too daunting. There was no inner drive felt, or energy. It was as if someone unplugged her or the batteries inside her died. She felt at a loss to shake it off. Deciding a bath would help her bruised heart. She poured some lavender oil into the hot water and soaked up the heat in the hope of getting relief from the despondency. The doorbell rang incessantly.

An hour later, and not of her own volition, Lucy was back in the Henry Street police interview room. The worn yoga pants and frayed grey t-shirt were testimony to that, along with the drops of water falling from her wet hair. The suggestion she change clothes before heading to the police station was quickly rebuffed by the gruff garda assigned to take her in.

"This is in connection with the disappearance of Ciara Thompson" he had said coldly. "I'd be more concerned about that than wearing the latest fluff." Realizing that helping with the investigation surpassed the need for fashionable attire, she left home in clothes ranked lowest in the hierarchy of her wardrobe. In the tranquillity of the empty interview room, Lucy sunk lower into the chair, and sighed deeply. She just wanted to get back home and take refuge on the couch as planned. Still in a way, the shock of being hauled in shook her somewhat out of that zombie-like state which had entombed her whole being for several days. It was like emerging from a soupy fog, albeit involuntarily, her mind felt a little clearer and more focused. Looking around, she noticed how nothing had changed in four years. The confined space still held the same two desks positioned close to one another while the interviewee chair faced them, the strategically mounted cameras recorded all interviews for posterity. It was here that she had first met Kevin. Fond memories of that meeting brought on a wave of nostalgia and suddenly his smile, his smell and the protective shield his hard body created when she lay in his arms felt real as if he was there beside her. Just then Liam entered the room alone. He carried two Styrofoam cups of tea in his hands while his notebook was wedged solidly under his arm. She stood immediately and helped lighten the load by taking the cups and placing them on the table. He thanked her as he produced little plastic milk cups along with several sachets of sugar from his jacket pocket and 2 plastic spoons.

"Help yourself there" he said kindly as he sat down.

"Liam why was I brought in like this?" She didn't let him respond "I was more than willing to come in of my own accord. I didn't need to be escorted so rudely."

"My apologies Lucy. But between you and me Ahern, the fella who brought you here, is our village idiot, but you never heard that from me."

"Yeah, okay, but still...."

"I know, he is a little gung-ho, and affected, but again...." Lucy sardonically finished his phrase "I didn't hear it from you."

"Well in all honesty, I was trying to reach you for a few days. I just needed you to confirm something, but when you weren't getting back to me I asked Ahern to see if you were home."

"Well I didn't take my messages, so I didn't know you wanted to talk to me. Next time, just come by yourself because he did everything bar handcuff me!! Not that I want a next time but you know...."

"Again, my apologies. We're hoping Ahern never gets promoted. It would be the end of us." Lucy nodded then took a sip from the cup, felt the hot liquid warm her from within and asked Cunningham what he wanted to talk about. Liam opened the file which had been tucked under his arm earlier, placed a photo on the table and pushed it toward her.

"Recognize him?" Liam asked after sipping a loud slurp of tea. "It was taken two weeks ago." Lucy scanned the snapshot and forced herself not to gasp as her eyes took in every detail. Her heartbeat raced as her mind registered the image and the fact that it was taken two weeks earlier. After a long moment she pushed the photo back.

"I can't even see a face!" Liam pursed his lips.

"I know. But sometimes you get lucky. People can recognize someone they know very well, even if it's only a partial shot like this." He pushed the photo back to her "do you know him.... even if the baseball cap is hiding his features?"

"Sorry. No idea.....at all. Why?"

"He talked to Ciara on the day she disappeared."

"Nope, no idea who that could be." The questions had gone on another twenty minutes before she was thanked and sent on her way. As Lucy hailed a taxi outside the station, Liam observed her from the second floor window then turned to the other man in the room.

"What do you think?" Kevin Hartnett nodded slightly, "she knows who it is." He had been looking through the viewing camera while Liam interviewed her. Just seeing Lucy sitting there filled him with a sense of wellness, almost like the touch of a healing hand on a burning wound. Time had taken nothing from her and he found himself drawn to her as much as the first day they had met. That left him feeling disturbed and distraught.

"What's the plan?" Liam asked.

"Knowing her, she won't sit still on this information. She'll be off doing something about it that's for sure." He headed for the door. "I'll follow her."

"Jackie will be wondering where you are," Liam said to remind Kevin he was a married man.

"She knows how to reach me."

Kevin parked with a clear view of Lucy's house and settled in for what was probably going to be a long night of conducting surveillance. Not a tough job by any means. He knew the area well and the angle at which the vehicle was parked guaranteed he would not lose sight of, or be spotted by, the so-called target. Although, it was his first time staking out someone he had been intimate with. He rubbed his hands over his face as much to shake off the memories as to wake himself up. His shift had started that morning four a.m. but as soon as he was done, some twelve hours later, he couldn't get out of the city fast enough. A laugh of disbelief escaped him. Four years earlier, he had high-tailed it up to Dublin fuelled with ambition and aspirations believing it was the only place to get away from the stifling choke-hold of small town life. Well he certainly found what he was looking for and yet here he was running back to Limerick like the prodigal child. What you want is not always what you need. He was going to stop at the Windmill pub for a few pints with his buddy Mike, but ended up at the police station where he joined Liam and Derek in the computer room. He had meant to tell Liam that he was taking a few days off, but he got caught up with the museum footage and didn't feel the hours ticking by. It was only when James called up to say Ahern brought a Lucy Courtney in to the interview room that Liam woke him for a deep slumber and they hurried downstairs, with the exception of Derek. He had decided to call it a night. Kevin was grateful that nobody could hear how his heart pounded when he first spied her through the video camera from the recess of the viewing room. Nervousness pulsed through him as his eyes followed her movements. Hundreds of memories crashed upon the shore of his mind leaving behind a blend of scents, happiness and confusion. He recalled her curious glance around the room, the secretive smile it brought to her full lips and how she held her arms close to her while leaning back in the chair. Long red tresses, heavy with moisture, fell low evoking in him a desire to reach out and touch her. Liam, who considered Kevin's wife, Jackie a sister, would burst a blood vessel if he knew where his thoughts had roamed. Poor Liam! He was a good, misguided soul who didn't know Jackie couldn't stand the sight of him, nor Liam's wife for that matter and would prefer an attack of athlete's foot rather than have a visit from them. A thermos cup of hot coffee and a few chocolate biscuits were sitting in the double cup holders beside the steering wheel, he laid back his seat and waited. Some hours later he observed Lucy leaving the house with an overnight bag at two in the morning. He had been right, she was up to her old tricks again. He waited until she was well ahead of him but still in sight before he pulled away from the curb and followed.

Lucy drove into the night feeling enraged but fuelled with determination to find that excuse for a man - Tim Thompson! To think he had been in contact with Ciara while Mags was going through all that stress. How bad could you be to put your partner through that?

And what was Ciara doing interacting with him without telling Mags? And where were they now? It was all very mysterious and she was going to get to the bottom of it come hell or high water.

What plan of action she had in mind was probably going to go down as a complete waste of time, but one had to be hopeful, especially when there were no other options available. Okay – admittedly she should have informed Liam on the identity of the man in the photo, but something had prevented her from divulging that. What exactly the obstacle was she could not say, but it was best not to dwell on these things and just go on gut instinct. Lucy travelled through the darkness for almost three hours until the strain on her eyes finally lifted with the abundantly lit periphery of Dublin City. The journey took longer than expected but it had been a couple of years since she had travelled at night and did not feel comfortable going at the usual speed. Following the road signs for Co. Meath, she turned the indicator on, moved the steering wheel to the left, veered off into an interchange of routes and shifted into the lane that would lead to Navan. The car that had been following her closely since leaving Limerick now headed straight for Dublin City center and the paranoia hanging over her for the past two hours was replaced with renewed concentration on her plan to find Tim.

Fifty kilometers North West of Dublin, Lucy passed the road sign announcing her arrival in the picturesque town of Navan, Co. Meath. The unusual Paladromic name resembled nothing of its Gaelic origin An Uimh, but as the history books reveal so many Irish names were grossly deformed to make them pronounceable for the occupying British. A heavenly sight greeted her in the rear view mirror as the sun rose in hues of deep crimson over the valley's Boyne River and she couldn't help but pull over for a moment to take in the beauty of the cascading water making its way out to the Irish Sea. Leaving the confines of the driver's seat, a much needed stretch was needed to shake off the stiffness of the journey. The crisp morning air was inhaled deeply easing away the tension in her body. The place had such an ancient feel to it. An Bhóinn, she whispered the river's Irish name which was, according to legend, the one where Fionn Mac Cumhail captured Fiontan , the salmon of knowledge. These were stories passed on through generations and even if some details were changed or lost, the core of the legend lived on.

But there was nothing of legend about the surrounding land. It was well known to be the old stomping ground of the High King's of Ireland and remnants of prehistoric beliefs still remained from those times; the most impressive of which was the megalithic tomb at Newgrange. It had been standing for five hundred years before the oldest Egyptian pyramid was built. A loud grumbling noise spurted from her stomach dragging her back to present day. It was only five thirty so the chances of her finding food were slim to none. Still, it could do no harm to have a look about. Lucy got back into her car and drove around until she found a large almost empty parking lot on Kennedy Road. After moving into a space, she turned off the ignition then grabbed her handbag and mobile phone. There wasn't a soul about. Desperate to find nourishment and a bathroom, she set off in search of an open coffee shop.

*

With her hands clasped around her eyes, Lucy peered through the window of a cafe that was obviously closed, but hope of being allowed in was coming from a light towards the rear of the shop. Her plan was to catch the attention of whoever was there and plead to be let in for a good dose of caffeine. The down side was she had been waiting for a couple of minutes now and nobody seemed to be within. The light was probably only left on as an overnight security precaution.

"Hungry love, are ya?" Lucy leapt with fright. She spun around to see a short middle aged woman with gleaming eyes, one of which gave her an impish wink standing there.

"I'm only supposed to open at seven, but sure come on in and I will get you fixed up." She exuded cheerfulness and kindness and Lucy knew straight away, she would be well fed. It was just as well too because there was no denying she could eat a cow and drink a trough of coffee.

"Yes. I'm famished actually."

"Good!" the woman proclaimed while fishing for something in her over-stuffed handbag.

"Thank you so much" Lucy effused. "I am very grateful." Twenty minutes later she had downed her first fresh cup of coffee and was already making her way behind the counter for a second. The woman, Nelly, was in the back baking muffins and various breads and pastries.

"You can charge me for the whole pot!" Lucy called.

"Work away love. I have another batch of bacon on the grill for you." An hour later, after paying for the meal, she left a twenty euro tip to the woman for her kindness then stumbled out of the café stuffed to the gills but so happy to feel replenished. She returned to her car for the final leg of the journey –the town of Kells.

*

Sixteen kilometers later, after navigating some hair-raising bends on bucolic country roads designed for the width of a diminutive donkey, Lucy reached the historic town of Kells. Most people recognized the name because of the famous monastic art work, The Book of Kells, allegedly created or at least completed by the monks of St-Colmcille. Partial remains of their ninth century abbey, remained today, but the most obvious vestige of their presence was the hundred foot tower sitting in the middle of the town. The last time she had been in the area must have been at least ten years earlier. It had only been for an overnight stay after a Saturday night out on the tear with Tim, Mags and a load of other friends. A total lack of funds – except for drinking money – forced them to camp-out at the abandoned ancestral Thompson house. Even back then it was like something from the Amityville Horror; she dreaded to think what it looked like now.

Meandering for hours through more endless back-roads and narrow lanes Lucy's hunt for the elusive Thompson estate was not made any easier as the summer sun blazed down relentlessly. A rarely seen heat wave had settled into its third day over Ireland creating climatic conditions people travelled to Spain to find. The radio announcer squealed in delight as meteorologists called for two more days of above-average temperatures before the perpetually unsettled weather returned. The sun-starved population reacted accordingly with a frenzied rush to the nearest beach. Workplace absenteeism was at an all-time high and for the most part, a pardonable offence. By late afternoon thirst and hunger were bellowing internally for attention, but she continued to search with waning enthusiasm. When random passers-by were questioned as to its whereabouts, nobody seemed to have a clue, but suggestions were made that the land had perhaps been sold, or the house rebuilt from scratch. Deflated but not discouraged, Lucy returned to the proverbial square one, Kells town center. There she quickly refuelled the car then made a beeline to the offices of Farrelly's Estate Agents before they closed: it was her last hope. Twenty minutes later she emerged revitalized not only from downing two large glasses of ice cold water and using the bathroom, but from having the exact location of the Thompson home. The land had been on the market for a brief period last year but the owner, a local farmer, for no apparent reason opted out. Once Lucy explained to the estate agent that she was really not "in the market" to purchase any property, that she was simply trying to trace a family member, the agent said, somewhat conspiratorially, that in all fairness nobody would consider trying to do anything with a house that was beyond help – razed to the ground is what it should be. As for the surrounding land, well it was categorized as troublesome, a term describing land that was arable for producing nothing more than a good dandelion crop. Lucy thanked the agent then headed straight for the old house all the while ignoring the loud grumblings of an empty stomach; it had been twelve hours since her last meal.

*

Two things had gone wrong in Kevin's pursuit of Lucy. The tailing was one, and the re-tailing was the other. In a nut shell he made the number one error of surveillance – never get caught, or as they say, never get 'made'.

"Hmmff" he scoffed quietly. An easy rule to follow, especially if you're following a car on a busy thoroughfare in broad daylight, but try tailing someone for a couple of hours on a lone stretch of highway at three in the morning, the chances that they notice you are fairly high. But when she slowed down below the speed limit giving him no choice but to pass her by- even though he wasn't sure if she was having car problems, was in some sort of trouble or had a change of mind – he assumed she preferred if he was ahead. The only consolation he felt was that there were no upcoming exits. It wasn't long before she resumed normal speed and passed him. He played the field by allowing a semi-trailer truck in between them for a few miles before settling in behind her again, all the while keeping a solid distance. Still by the time they merged onto the M50 motorway which loops around Dublin City, he felt she was still wary. Given the frequent exits on that stretch of road he closed the distance between them –enough to read the rear bumper sticker Sanity is back-ordered. Sarcasm is in unlimited supply. A sideways grin formed not only at the label but at the fact that Lucy was a bumper sticker type – he hadn't her pegged for one at all. The sudden intermittent yellow glow of the left indicator light followed quickly by the red glare of the brake lights made his eyes shoot to road sign over the exit. N3, direction Dunboyne. A thousand questions passed through his mind as to what was leading her there, but he had no time to contemplate any of them as she had already veered onto the access ramp. Damn! He swore. He had assumed she was going to Dublin. If he followed her then he'd have to slam on the brakes, back up and take the same exit. A sure fire way to be made. Scrambling to right the wrong, he watched as she faded out of sight stopping only when she could no longer see him, or be seen. His hazard lights flashed as he put the car in reverse and sat at the same exit for what felt like an excruciatingly long time before finally slamming on the gas and trying to catch up with Lucy. It took a panic-filled ten minutes before he found her again. This time he followed in a ghost-like fashion, never once giving her an opportunity to spot him. Dunboyne wasn't her destination of choice at all, neither was the café in Navan. She just needed to spend an hour in caffeine paradise –her obvious coffee addiction was still thriving.

The rest of the day was a nightmare as he couldn't trail her on the back roads without being spotted. At first he believed he had been made and that she was making a fool of him, but when she asked for directions on two occasions he realized she couldn't find her destination. His second mistake occurred when she returned to Kells and entered an estate agent's. He hadn't eaten in over eighteen hours, was dehydrated and needed a toilet in the worst way possible. Tic's café in the town center offered a solution to all his needs, but it cost him dearly. After his bio-break he went to the counter ordered several foot long sandwiches as well as several bottles of water, juice and a coffee. It was only as he was paying for his food that he realized Lucy's car was gone. Fuck!! He swore and immediately grabbed his food leaving behind a very large tip and a most content waiter.

*

Annoyance was the word that best described Lucy's feelings as she stood in front of two high moss covered pillars which she must have passed by at least five or six times without noticing them. In her defense she was operating on a limited and somewhat inebriated memory to guide her, plus she'd swear the thick vegetation which now blocked the entrance probably hadn't been there ten years ago. The setting sun in all its scarlet splendor cast a golden hue over the rustic environment transporting Lucy to a state of peace and tranquillity. Being on the go for most of the day had tired her out, but she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply allowing feelings of serenity and comfort to fortify her body and mind. The distinctly sweet smell of freshly cut grass carried her to Hannah's back garden in the summer time.

Gosh! She exclaimed softly 'the real estate agent was wrong, the area would be a perfect place for a young couple to raise a family'. Her thoughts immediately turned to baby Eloise; she whispered a silent prayer that her health was improving. Had Bernard taken the paternity test? He would surely have contacted her with the results....wouldn't he? Perhaps she should call him. Then again she may have been too forceful with him about fatherhood. God! Why can't I learn to just keep my nose out of things that don't concern me!! Putting aside those worries, she stood between the high green pillars and pushed heavily against the makeshift wooden barrier to open it, but nothing moved. There were no hinges or latch visible, nothing to allow her in. Grabbing hold of the ersatz gate again she shoved it with all her might. It crashed to the ground hard and her with it. Countless splinters injected painfully into both palms and she let loose a litany of curses before picking herself up and immediately removing as many fragments as possible. Oooh's and aaah's of pain escaped her as each blood covered shard became dislodged. Minutes later there were still as many left, so she gave up the effort, wiped away the blood and returned to her car with stinging palms. Holding the steering wheel with minimum contact, she drove slowly over the downed barrier manoeuvring up along a beaten path where lush grass grew in the center of two muddy tracks. Ancient and majestic oak trees flanked the trail, their twisted branches intertwining across the divide to form a long natural arch. It was idyllic pastoral perfection like nothing she had seen before. Baffled by the reluctance anyone would have in purchasing such a place, she rounded a short bend and all became clear.

"Jaysus" she exclaimed taking in the dark grey stone walls whose voracious creeping foliage seemed to have won a territorial battle for which the house had ceased resistance years ago. After turning off the engine, she got out and immediately caught the distinct odor of damp and rotten wood emanating from the wreck of a place. A shudder ran down her spine at the thoughts of hoards of rats scurrying away from an unexpected intrusion. On second thoughts, the agent had been right – the place should be razed. The whole idea of coming here now seemed quite ludicrous although after seeing the photograph from the museum's camera during the police interview, it had seemed perfectly logical. That awful looking rag of a hat was forever on Tim Thompson's head. The baseball cap with the worn, almost invisible logo of Meath's football team had stood out enabling her to instantly recognize Tim. The police didn't pick upon the logo and she did not want to identify him before trying to get Tim's side of the story. The old house in Kells was the only place where she thought he might camp out. Pushing aside disturbing rodent images conjured up from seeing one too many horror movies as a teenager, Lucy began navigating slowly through the unfriendly vegetation of thorny brambles, ranks of tall nettles, thistles and weeds toward the remaining four walls of the ancestral home. It was ridiculous to imagine Tim would spend any time here. With no view of the main road and only high trees surrounding the house she felt encapsulated in a place deliberately isolated from the rest of the world. All inner alarms went on high alert as a deep sense of foreboding crept over her. Goosebumps formed in every anatomical nook and cranny which would have had a normal person running like the dickens out of there, but a pathologically insatiable sense of curiosity compelled her to stay and conduct a thorough investigation of the entire area.

Exploring the interior of the house proved impossible due to deep gaping holes where there was once a floor. A large cellar had been built under the house which the possibility of falling down and meeting more rats. Instead she trudged through the tangled mess of vegetation and headed around to the rear. Nettles stung her calves and arms, while thorns pierced her clothes in various places. Fortunately the jungle growth wasn't as thick around the back so she followed a narrow path that had been cleared to allow easier access to a large stone shed. The construction was just as old as the house but it had fared better against time and the elements. Her heart began to beat rapidly as hope of finding Ciara, or Tim or even both inside became a possibility. It would surely be an awkward meeting, but at least she could begin to get some answers into this whole mystery. After taking a deep breath, she approached the shed, pressed her shoulder cautiously against the rotting door, pushing it open. Her eyes immediately shot to Tim's lifeless body hanging from the rafters.

*

Eugene Morris pushed the tumbler filled with a double shot of seventy year old single malt whiskey from Speyside across the marble counter to the man occupying the bar stool. His Dublin city center apartment was designed as the ultimate bachelor pad and had a bar most would sell their souls to sit at.

"Drink up" Eugene sighed "your services won't be required tonight." The young doctor gave an almost imperceptible shrug before lifting the glass to his mouth. His nose crinkled up in disgust as he swallowed like one taking a dose of particularly bad medicine.

"Any chance of a Coke with that."

"Blasphemy!" Eugene balked in false annoyance while whipping away the russet colored liquid in the pear-shaped bottle. "That cost close to fifteen hundred Euros and is a work of art. You shall not taint its perfection by adding rust remover!" He pulled a beer from a large fridge under the counter. "This will probably be more to your liking." After the doctor had knocked back a long slug, Eugene poured his own drink, then moved out from behind the counter. He sat on another bar stool leaving three empty chairs between them.

"Who was there when you left?"

"Andy." Another loud gulp and smacking of lips was heard before the doctor continued. "The man does not understand tissue incompatibility. He offered to give his own kidney to Higgins again even though I've told him his blood or tissue is not a match."

"They go back a long way" Eugene explained. "Andy O'Mahoney and Higgins were raised together when Andy's mother dumped him into the same pram as Higgins and ran away. Her body was found six weeks later in Belfast with three bullets in her head."

"Fucked up isn't it" the doctor muttered. Eugene took a final sip of the whiskey.

"We're going to have a problem of epic proportion if the surgery doesn't take place." He should have had the new organ by now but from the looks of it their precious delivery isn't coming.

"It would want to be here within the next twenty four hours if it's supposed to save a man with stage 5 chronic kidney disease." The Doc downed the remainder of his beer. 'I mean, maybe if someone in his family had managed to actually live long enough they could have told him about the ticking bomb that was running through his genes. But that's what you get when you live a life of tit-for-tat butchery."

"You shouldn't complain' Eugene interjected "I'm paying you big bucks just to babysit Higgins. If he pops his clogs you're not only off the hook but much wealthier. Dentistry wasn't for you, but maybe you can buy yourself a medical degree."

"Haw, haw" the doc interjected, "you're hilarious."

"I, on the other hand" Eugene said "will have to deal with the fallout from violent gang members who are taking too much of the product they peddle. And that's all thanks to that idiot Boland."

"I.....ahm... overheard something" the doc said hesitantly.

"Go on" Eugene said smoothly.

"O'Mahoney told Higgins he'd blow the manor to kingdom come and all within its walls if you failed on the deal." Eugene shrugged off the threat with a haughty scoff, but inside was boiling mad. How dare that thug even dare to threaten anything about his business, when it is the very thing keeping him alive right now. He'd have to somehow find a way to get these parasites off his back once and for all. "He also said his men were taking over the search completely and you'd have to call off your Dog fella altogether." The Doc raised himself off the stool, belched then headed for the door. "Right, back to his Highness Higgins."

*

Every inch of her body trembled at the macabre sight of the suspended corpse. The brutal smell of decomposing flesh registered into a physical response. Lucy, with mouth agape, stumbled backwards then turned and darted outside where she vomited violently onto a nearby nettle pile. Tim's brown eyes bulging from their sockets, the expression desperate in those last few seconds of life would be forever etched in her memory. God she couldn't believe he did this to himself. Of all the wrong-doings she imagined he committed, none involved death, at least not his own. The phone messages and texts she had left him were probably never received. The righteous speech she had prepared and rehearsed umpteen times would not be heard. He would never know the shame and guilt she wanted him to feel for having left Mags at a most vulnerable moment in life. Nor could she question why he met with Ciara at the museum. Maybe he had found out about Bernard Down and walked away from his marriage. The retching continued as the odor of death lingered in her nostrils, but with her stomach empty for some time now, bile was the only thing that continued to come up. Her throat felt irritated and dry, her skin cold and clammy. There was no water source around so she had to swallow hard several times to alleviate a raw oesophagus; nothing could be done for her foul breath. With trembling hands, she removed the mobile phone from her sweatshirt pocket and dialled emergency services. Seconds later a strange sound was heard coming from the shed. An electronic jingle of Luck Be a Lady Tonight hummed repeatedly. Lucy's eyes shot over and back from the phone to the shed trying to grasp what was happening. That ring tone was the signature chime of Tim's mobile phone. She spun in fear believing someone was nearby. Nothing but the tall sweet grass swaying in the wind was to be seen. The phone continued to loop around the chorus until it suddenly hit her; she had been shaking so badly her finger pressed the redial key assigned to Tim's phone. In a split second a hundred thoughts passed through her mind and they all revolved around grasping an opportunity which had just presented itself. If Tim's phone was still on his person then perhaps it would be possible to steal a glimpse into the final weeks of his life, assuming the mobile wasn't password protected. Knowing who he called, or who called him may help lead the way to Ciara's whereabouts. Could Ciara be somewhere right now waiting for Tim to call? Did she know Mags was dead? Hardly, otherwise she would have called. Difficult as it was, Lucy decided to retrieve the phone. Covering her mouth and nose with a sweater sleeve -not that it helped – she walked back into the shed. The odor of death contained microscopic particles which entered into every pore of the body remaining steadfast until scrubbed away. Lucy was sure it would linger in her nostrils for days. Maybe some Vicks vapor-rub up the nose would help. Looking around at the rusted tools and dusty shelves, she winced before calling out Ciara's name. The silence held fast. Tim seemed to have died alone, which, sad as that was, did nothing to resolve Ciara's disappearance. It only raised more questions. With her heart leaping furlongs in her chest, she surreptitiously approached the dangling corpse. It was hard to imagine this kind of end for a man she still considered a close friend. Although in light of recent events she had to admit to not knowing him at all. His addiction remained hidden despite their fifteen year friendship, and that seemed to render their relationship somewhat dishonest. Tim may have been protecting himself by never mentioning it, or perhaps he believed his friends could not understand the struggle of compulsive gambling. How come Mags would not share her troubles? Why would she keep something so big from her best friend? Standing in the putrid air was neither the time nor the place to explore such things. The small milking stool he had used to hoist himself up lay upside down on the floor. His feet dangling about a foot off the ground made the search for the phone that bit easier and she patted lightly on his jacket pockets all the while avoiding his inert gaze. The energy around her felt dismal, hopeless, as if his tormented state lingered after his passing. Goosebumps stole across her flesh as she reached up to the pockets near his chest. Although she still did not look into his eyes, she felt his gaze boring through her, as if to protest this violation of privacy. He was right. This was no way to treat the dead. Still, she had to try and help the living. The phone was quickly located in an inner breast pocket. Chills ran down her spine as she extracted it between thumb and forefinger. The stench became unbearable and her stomached heaved heavily enough that she immediately bent over and retched. It was then that her eyes alit upon a white piece of paper partially covered by the milking stool. Without thinking she grabbed it then ran outside. As if pulled from the depths of the ocean, Lucy gulped in the sweet evening air letting it fill her lungs until it hurt. There was no way she was returning to that shed. Ever! After regaining some composure she opened the paper and her eyes fell on Tim's final words.

My sweet, sweet Mags,

I'm sorry for all the pain and trouble I've caused you. I've tried to beat the game, really, I have, but The House always wins and I can't fight it anymore. God knows you've tried many times to help me, but I can't be fixed. Even Ciara tried to help me but I destroyed her too. I'm a good for nothing and don't deserve to live. I ruin everything I touch. I've made you cry too many times.

Sorry

Tim

So much pain was held in those few sentences – a lifetime of failing to beat an addiction. He had felt beyond help, and no longer had control over the impulse to gamble. It would have torn Mags apart with guilt and grief knowing Tim ended his life. I'm sure she would have continued trying to get him to help himself out of the habit. But what did he mean, he destroyed Ciara too? And how did he ruin her? She folded the note and put it in her pocket ignoring the inner voice of admonishment. Sure, removing it was not the right thing to do, but she had every intention of finding a way to give it back - soonish.

A sharp wind suddenly picked up out of nowhere blowing cold against her skin. Every hair on her body straightened in fear. It felt like that moment back in Terry Doohan's attic five years earlier when the wind had come in through the open sky light and she felt that same cold sensation seconds before she found him standing behind her ready for the kill. Horrific memories of a close call with death sent her into sheer panic and she took off running through the weed jungle for her car. The wind whipped through her hair as she sprinted along, but no matter how fast her legs moved she couldn't shake off the eerie feeling of a presence following close behind. The sight of her car brought enormous relief. Everything would be fine once she was onto the main road and driving far away from this Godforsaken place. Shaking with fear, she got into the car locked the doors, started the engine and reversed hard. Something didn't feel right. She was hardly moving. Pressing solidly on the pedal she tried to accelerate, but couldn't gain traction. The wheels rolled backwards ever so slowly even with the accelerator forced down to the floor. By now the car had rolled back under the arched oak trees plunging her surroundings into darkness deepening her panic. She revved harder, desperate to move, but only managed to send the engine into a heated motionless spin. With trembling hands she rummaged in the oversized handbag on the passenger seat extracted her mobile just as a loud bang hit the driver-side window. She screamed in terror just as another blow was delivered to the same spot. Trying to see what was happening, she caught sight of someone in dark clothing peering in through the window. Barely able to hold the phone, she managed to dial the emergency number and plead for help as another blow to the window sounded. Instinctively she held her arms around her head as a million pieces of glass exploded under the force of the strike. The phone was knocked out of her hand but she screamed her whereabouts just before a large gloved hand grabbed her throat in a vice-like grip. Struggling for air, she fought with every ounce of strength she had, but the clench tightened even more. Widened angry eyes glared through a black wool mask fixing upon her shocked state.

"Where is she?" he bellowed. Through widened pleading eyes, she shook her head 'no' all the while fighting to breathe. Air, getting air, living was all that mattered. Having no capacity to even register what he could be looking for, she shook her head 'no' again. Squeezing tighter he yelled out "Where is she? Tell me!!!!" Lucy knew she had only seconds left before she'd pass out and groped desperately for something, anything that would remove his hand from her windpipe. All she managed to snatch was a discarded Ikea pencil, but in a second had rammed its sharp tip into the soft flesh of the man's wrist but he didn't budge. Not wanting to believe this was the end, she struggled for another object when all of a sudden she could breathe again. Her eyes shot to the window. It took only a second to register that the man was down on the ground. Another man stood over him, his fists pummelling hard against her attacker. A howl of pain reached out into the night sky triggering Lucy into action. She dove across the seat out through the passenger side door and sprinted for her life down the lane. The green pillars were in sight, she could almost touch them. If she got to the road she'd get help. Feeling her attacker was in hot pursuit, she glanced over her shoulder for a second then suddenly her legs crashed into something hard, her hand touched warm metal before everything went black.

*

"Lucy? Lucy can you hear me?" The distant voice sounded very familiar but she could not recall who owned it. Her eyes opened but she was unable to make out anything in the dark. A man knelt by her side. Fearing it was the attacker she began to push at him in a pathetic bid to escape. Her heart beat madly from fear and confusion.

"It's okay" the voice spoke reassuringly, "it's okay." She managed to stand up relatively fast but swayed precariously as the blood drained from her head down to her toes. Strong hands gripped above her elbows holding her steady. She blinked several times but her eyes couldn't focus on the face of the man in front of her. The weightiness of her legs compared to the weakness of her upper body and pounding heart became too much to endure. She lowered herself to the ground, but the man did not release his grip instead he descended with her until they sat knee to knee.

"Hang on just one minute," he said then got up.

She turned in the direction of his footsteps. A car door opened and a second later the yellow glow of a low beam headlight lit up their surroundings. It cast enough brightness to make her squint and turn away. The face of the person who had been holding became clear.

"Kevin Hartnett!" She exclaimed in a breathless gasp.

"She lives," he announced with that killer smile which made her knees go weak. Or at least weaker than what they currently felt. He sat down opposite her on the damp grass looking as handsome as she remembered. His black wavy hair was messed up, and a small bloodied cut glistened under his cheek. His eyebrows met in a deep frown as his lips pressed tightly together. Very little had changed in the four years she had seen him last. Only the eyes were different. They seemed hollow somehow.

"You need to stay sitting for a bit" he advised smoothly. "Take some deep breaths too. Looks like you've had the stuffing knocked out of you." Lucy did as he said for the first three breaths then couldn't resist asking, "How come you're here?"

"Bad timing I guess." Her eyes darted madly "there was a....man in the lane." She suddenly recalled "He was trying to ...." Kevin didn't say that the guy kicked him in the nuts and incapacitated him enough to make off through the fields. All he could confirm was that the attacker was gone, probably on a motorbike from the rumble of the engine, "ahhm....he's gone I'm afraid."

"Gone," she repeated in a gasp. Those words frightened her. If he was gone then he could come back. If he came back he could attack her again. He was looking for someone. Not her, but ready to kill anyway. Her heart began to race madly but she tried to focus on something else until she could think through what really happened.

"So how did you get here?"

"I was kind of in the neighborhood..." He had driven around the same area she had been in before going to the real estate office until he finally came upon her car.

"You were? ...I don't get it. Do you live nearby?"

"Something like that."

"I'm really confused." He gently pulled her up to a standing position once again.

"It's okay" he soothed. "Now if you will allow me, I need to see if you've cut your head." When she nodded her accord the motion caused her to sway but he quickly held onto her placing one arm around her waist while his other hand passed gently over her scalp. In the closeness of that moment Kevin couldn't help discreetly inhaling the windswept soapy freshness of Lucy's hair. The scent immediately transported him back to a forgotten moment in time when they had made love in his old houseboat. He could still see the curve of her breasts and hips and the way their bodies seemed to just fit perfectly together. Even the mundane tasks of cooking and daily life had brought him a sense of wellness, of peace. Well as much peace as you can get with Lucy Courtney. Still, during their short time together he had connected with her. Never before or since had he felt so right with someone. Yet he had walked away, left it behind. Why had he not seen this before? Why had he been unable to recognize happiness for what it was? Instead he had chosen a path which had lead to a barren wasteland of misery.

"Eh...thanks Kevin, I'm grand again now." A hoard of powerful feelings stampeded their way through him catapulting him from a desert to an oasis. The chance for happiness was in his arms, there for him to hold on to and never let go, but how to breach the divide of the past four years? He'd have to show her how much he needed her in his life. Ignoring the impulse to kiss her soft lips he took a controlled step back widening the distance between them.

"Everything is intact" he declared with a slight tremor in his voice. She felt a little feeble and was still trembling but attempted to sound strong.

"I'd better be going then."

"No!" he shouted, accidently startling her. Quickly correcting his tone, he continued, "it's just you've had quite a shock and are in no shape to drive. Better tell me what's going on."

An hour later there was a considerable amount of activity going on at Thompson's old house. The local police had arrived. The officer in charge, a decent, down to earth bloke noted Kevin's edited version of what happened in neat lettering on a small lined notepad. Other local Gardai had cordoned off the area while they waited for the state pathologist to officially declare if Tim died at his own hand or if the crime scene technicians needed to be sent. The police told Kevin that Lucy Courtney was a person of interest in this case and wanted to have her brought to Navan for questioning. He disagreed and told them she was a person of interest in Limerick and they had priority to question her first. All this time Lucy was in Kevin's car sheltered from the turf scuffling going on. Using a powerful led torchlight, he made his way to the shed. Tim had not been moved. There was no doubt as to how he died. From what he could see it was most likely self-inflicted. Heading back down the lane, he saw how nothing remained of the driver side window of Lucy's car. The shattered glass lay on the ground and all over the interior. The tires had been slashed too. No other apparent damage was done. He noticed a blood spattered pencil on the ground near the rear tire. Discreetly pulling out a freezer bag, he used it like a glove to place the pencil inside. Feeling satisfied that there was nothing else of interest to be found he made his way back to Lucy. He found her shaking uncontrollably in the front seat, no doubt due to a state of mild shock. He needed to get her out of here, but in terms of distance, the nearest paying accommodation was about three miles away; a Bed & Breakfast approaching the center of Kells, but it was too late to wake up a family at eleven at night. There was however one hotel in the town's center, maybe he could get her a room there. Without saying a word, he removed his jacket, tucked it in around her then started the car. Once he had the heat on full blast, they headed to The Chestnut Grove Hotel.

The last stragglers, about ten girls, from the hotel's pub were being ushered out by a burly bouncer. Their loud chanting chorus to the latest chart hit rang out in the night. Kevin skirted past them and approached the bouncer. The man's stance instantly changed to one of readiness for trouble. Before Kevin had even spoken the bouncer said "party's over man. Head on home."

He inspected the detective's badge Kevin produced and relaxed a little.

"I need a room for the night."

"Go to the front door - I'll have the manager let you in." Kevin thanked him then walked thirty feet to the main entrance and waited. Five minutes later the night duty manager, a sharply groomed twenty year old, informed him that only a standard room was available.

"It will do fine" Kevin answered. "The wife isn't able for a drive back to Limerick."

"I'm sure we can make her stay comfortable" the manager answered with a proud smile. He shrugged off Kevin's words of gratitude.

Minutes later they stood looking at the queen size bed for a brief moment before Kevin said "I'll take the floor Luce. You need to sleep."

"I won't have you sleep on the floor."

"On the armchair then."

"That's just silly. We're adults capable of sharing a bed for the purpose of sleeping."

"Speak for yourself. I'm taking the chair" Lucy looked away as blood rushed to her cheeks. Kevin Hartnett didn't trust himself to sleep beside her? Why? Perhaps he had developed a suspicious rash on his family jewels and was hiding out until the ointment cured it. Or maybe he had stinky feet that no amount of soap could clean. Then again maybe he just meant he wouldn't be able to sleep well. He walked over to the diminutive fridge, extracted two miniature whiskey bottles and poured them neat into a couple of tumblers.

"If I remember correctly you don't like the hard stuff, but there's nothing like it when you've had a bit of a shock." She took the proffered glass, sipped tentatively on the honey colored liquid then winced at the taste. The subsequent shiver of displeasure convinced her to do without the so-called remedy of all remedies.

"I'll pass on the medicine, if you don't mind," she said hoarsely and placed the tumbler on the table next to the arm chair.

"Four years and you still haven't acquired a taste for the _uisce beatha_." He smiled using the Gaelic term for whiskey which literally translated to water-of-life.

"Uisce moribhe more like it," she responded describing it as the opposite. He raised his glass in her direction then took a large sip. His lips brushed over his teeth before the expected "ahhh" was announced.

"So, tell me" he asked settling into the armchair, "did you go to university like you planned?"

"Graduated last month."

"Good for you!! What did you study?"

"Languages." Lucy did not feel like elaborating on something that was at a saturation point in her life. "And you? Still Detective Hartnett?"

"I am indeed."

"Happy with the choice you made?" He frowned.

"That I became a detective?"

"Well, that amongst other things I suppose." She glanced at the wedding band on his finger. A simple silver ring which did not hold the brilliance of silver. Probably made of platinum and therefore probably cost several grand.

"Yes! I'm definitely glad I made that career move. It's about the only right decision I've made in a long time."

"Really? I'm sorry to hear that you're not... that you're not.... that you've regrets."

"Me too." Kevin seemed to become lost in his own thoughts after that and stared pensively into space. Lucy decided to give him his space and went to the bathroom to take a long hot shower. She emerged feeling refreshed, warm to the bone and wearing the only bathrobe available. After placing some extra pillows and blankets on the bed, she made some tea.

"A bit of brew for you" she chirped as she sat on the bed opposite Kevin who was sitting in the armchair still lost in thought. There was a weariness about him as if he had aged many years all of a sudden. His cheeks and chin sported dark stubble spreading below the jaw line. Dull black eyes gazed out from two dark shadowed rims and in that moment he was anywhere but in their hotel room.

"Kevin?" she asked softly while peering in closer. "You okay?" His eyes flew to hers in surprise before he finally extended his arm taking the cup with a nod of gratitude."You're eyes are so... strained" she said looking up from the brew rippling from the light motion of her hand movements, "it's like your light is not burning inside anymore." He said nothing but remained in pensive silence ignorant of the fender bender and subsequent argument happening on the street below. Wherever he had gone to, Lucy did not want to intrude and remained with him in the stillness. He couldn't describe to anyone how Jackie, his wife, was the most mentally unstable being he had ever come across. Untold amount of arguments had taken a toll on him and the constant pressure he was under meant life was a minefield to navigate. He didn't feel with way with Lucy.

"Strained" he repeated with a low whispered voice. "Grand. I'll take your word for it."

"Kevin, I didn't mean to..." His raised hand hushed the forthcoming apology and a small smile broke across his face.

"No Luce, you're right. I am... strained... as you say, but it will pass." Then as if to hide his newly defined state he sat up straight before leaning forward resting his elbows across his knees.

"And you? How are you holding up?"

"I'm perfectly fine," she lied. He shot her a strange glance before his eyes fell on her neck.

"Why would a man put such bruises on your lovely skin?" Her fingers passed gently over the painful spots where the attacker's hands had pressed hard against her throat. She recalled the horrific feeling of not being able to take a breath, of the crushing force extenuating her life, and of Tim probably having had similar sensations before the rope he put around his neck. She shrugged dismissively, more to shake off the memory than anything else. When she looked up his eyes were fixing hers with a penetrating gaze that made her shift uncomfortably.

"I've no idea," she responded nonchalantly.

"Really?" he muttered with a low incredulous tone and quizzical brow. "That's your story then?" His head canted at an angle, "I find it odd that you would travel three hours to go to a condemned house, find a man hanging from the shed rafters, almost get strangled to death and you don't know why?" The subsequent sigh and disbelieving nod revealed his parlous credence in her lack of knowledge. For Kevin, Lucy Courtney had not changed, nor would she ever change. She still suffered from an extremely independent disposition. This, compounded with an equally extreme sense of privacy made extracting information arduous to say the least. Still he had navigated these waters before and remembered one thing that might still work.

"Well when you're done lying to me..."

"I am not lying!" she exclaimed hotly. In her book lies were clearly defined. Like saying you're fine when you're obviously not is okay as a lie because you are sparing the other person unnecessary details. Not wanting to share all the information you may have was another in the same category.

"Then why did you go to the Thompson's place?" Her mouth opened as if to speak but closed just as quickly. The inner scuffle of wanting to defend the accusation of being a liar while fighting to guard the motivation behind her actions raged for a few seconds.

"Good night," Kevin said sardonically while he reached across to remove the spare pillows and blanket from the bed. Lucy caught a lingering odor of musky cologne as his arm brushed against hers. Their eyes met in a fleeting look of desire and the promise of passion was suddenly possible.

"Sleep well," he offered in a low voice before settling back into the chair and placing the pillow behind his head. It seemed he was slumbering in no time.

Lucy had a rough night. A throbbing headache, sore throat and freezing feet made it impossible to sleep despite the exhaustion. A warm bed wasn't enough. As difficult as it was to admit, she wanted Kevin beside her but he was not free. The sound of him sleeping noisily from the armchair constantly advertised his presence which in turn had her imaging them doing all sorts of things with each other. As dawn's grey light came creeping through the window, Lucy gave up on the idea of getting any sleep and crept out of bed. She walked over to her handbag on the shelf in the closet and from an inner pocket retrieved the phone taken from Tim's coat. The odor of death still lingered on it and she turned her head away as if to remove the image of the shed from her mind, but it proved to be a futile action. Tim's exit from this world was unforgettable. A quick look at Kevin confirmed he was sleeping soundly so she stole into the bathroom keeping the light off so as not to activate the fan and waken him. After pulling a couple of towels from the stainless steel shelf to protect against the cold tiled floor she took some toilet paper to act as an odor shield before pressing the red phone symbol to power it on. Lucy was relieved to find it was not password protected. The menu, like any other mobile, displayed a log of recent calls and texts both incoming and outgoing. Of the last phone calls listed, five were between Tim and Ciara, four from two numbers she did not recognize and three from herself. A feeling of pity for Tim washed over her. Calling him about Mags having the baby didn't count for anything - he was already gone from this world. After selecting the Text message icon she saw three texts; one from Tim to Ciara – _WTF r u?_ One from Ciara to Tim – _You lied!_ And one more from Tim to which Ciara did not respond– _Go back or they'll kill you. Simon can't protect you._ Lucy wondered who Simon was and why he needed to protect Ciara. The messages were all sent on the same day, which was at the same time Mags stopped off at Lucy's house. Nothing further was found and that left Lucy feeling at a loss as to where to go from there. After going through the texts and phone numbers once more, she pulled out more toilet paper from the dispenser and placed them carefully under the phone then scrubbed her hands clean before sitting down again. The text exchanges raised more questions than answers. Tim and Ciara were doing something together, but what? And who was this Simon fella? What was he trying to protect her from? The bathroom unexpectedly lit up.

"I'd say you have something to talk about now." Lucy's head shot up at hearing Kevin's voice.

"What are you doing in here?" she gasped with eyes squinting against the bright light. It was impossible to hide her surprise at seeing him so unexpectedly. He looked good, but dishevelled, like he hadn't slept all night even though he had appeared to have been comatose.

"You look like hell Courtney."

"That old Harnett charm – there's nothing like it to make a girl feel special." His nose sniffed the air "it's stinky in here."

"It's not me. It's the phone."

"The phone?" He parroted. "How come your phone smells so bad?" Admittedly, it would have to be returned at some point; might as well be now she mused. The numbers had been memorized and she intended on using them. Still there was a large chunk of guilt sitting heavily in her gut and it was about to be purged.

"It's Tim Thompson's phone." His expression suddenly changed to one of confusion.

"I don't get it." Lucy thought about the best way to explain theft as a necessity while deflecting all responsibility and accompanying guilt but nothing came to mind. Be brazen the voice of reason advised, so putting on the haughtiest of expressions she announced "it rang just after I found him," then with a flick of her hair for emphasis on the boldness needed to convey the flippancy of the whole matter she continued, "so I borrowed it for a while." Kevin balked before his hands grabbed his own hair.

"Luce" he warned, "tell me you did not steal that from the body. Please tell me you are not holding a piece of evidence." She swallowed hard, the only flaw in her over-confident act.

"Okay, if it's what you want to hear."

"Oh sweet Jesus! You removed something from a crime scene. This is beyond bad."

"Hartnett, you're such a drama queen. Besides it wasn't a crime scene."

"Until it's established how Thompson died it is a crime scene."

"Well he wrote a note, that's why it's not a crime scene."

"A note? There was no note." His eyes suddenly widened "Oh holy feck of fecks....tell me you didn't take that too???" His finger jabbed the air toward the phone, "I have to report this. And how I'm going to do it I have no bloody idea!!!!!!" His tone suddenly turned authoritative, "give me that phone and note now!"

"Well okay then if you're going to go all Constable Kevin Goody on me!" Lucy teased in reference to a British television character. He did not respond but stood stoically, hand held out. Feigning annoyance she tsked loudly while placing the phone and toilet paper n his hand, washed her hands then left the bathroom. Kevin was quick on her heels, watching closely as she extracted the note from her jeans pocket and handed it to him. He opened the paper, read Tim's last words then dropped his hands in frustration.

"Why did you do this Luce?" His voice was restrained like he was trying not to reveal the anger he felt. She chose not to answer him. Anything said would only fuel his hissy fit. She pulled the jeans off the clothes hanger and turning her back on him for modesty's sake slipped them on under her bathrobe. Still with her back to him, she threw off the robe, quickly put on her bra and t-shirt then turned around and asked, "did the police impound my car?" Kevin stood stoically. He was trying to process having seen the smooth curves of a body that he wanted to caress so badly. And it wasn't a shallow physical need, but a yearning to know they could be together as they had before, happy, sharing life on a daily basis. Keeping his feelings under wrap was difficult in such close proximity. Inside, he scoffed at himself for even entertaining such unrealistic hopes and told himself to get as far away from Lucy Courtney as quickly as possible. He had already one woman to deal with it, adding another was just looking for punishment. Yet he didn't want to contemplate seeing her go. With a casual tone he replied "Yes. Forensics are going over it." A frown creased her brow.

"But there was no crime so to speak."

"For God's sake you were attacked twenty feet from a hanging corpse!! Does that not scream crime scene to you? And your neck!!! Did you not see the state of it? You should get a doctor to check that out. And you should have called me before you went off chasing whoever, or whatever. I mean do you even know who did that to you?"

"Shoulda, shoulda, shoulda...jeez you have major control issues Kevin." Lucy said flippantly as if what she stole was no biggie. His eyebrows met in a deep frown.

"Control issues? You think I have control issues. Courtney you couldn't be controlled if you had a microchip inside you."

"Hey! Hang on a second now....why should I suddenly contact you to report my every move? What's that about?"

"Are you serious?" His tone had gone up a notch but he corrected it. "You were questioned by the police in Limerick, but never called me. You drove in the night on some sort of chase and never called me. I can only imagine why you went to the Thompson house, but you were obviously in some sort of trouble and never called me. I don't get it Luce. Of all the people who could help you I could, and yet you didn't reach out to me."

"I haven't called you in four years!! Plus you're married, so why would I even think of reaching out to you to come solve my problems. I've always resolved things on my own anyway! I mean, I thought you of all people would understand that."

"To a certain point I can understand. But what I see goes beyond that. Your actions endanger yourself and others around you. Like last night, you got an idea into your head and next thing you're being strangled."

"Then don't follow me if you don't approve."

"Goddammit!! I was trying to protect you. But you know what I've just realized -I can't!! You're a danger unto yourself."

"I've managed to survive this long. Believe me I'll be fine.!!!"

"That was my way of thinking before. But then one day I found myself at death's door. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for you. We all need someone to fall back on."

"Kevin I would help you again in a heartbeat, but you don't have to try and watch over me just to even things up."

"Even things up?? You think this is about me evening..." His phone rang before he could continue. He observed her defiant regard as he spoke into the receiver, "Hartnett." Lucy saw him check the time on his wristwatch. "I put in for a few days off." His tone was terse. "Yes, will do. Right. Maybe an hour or two. I'm not in the city." When he hung up he put away his phone and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "That's the job. I'll have to go soon." Lucy knew when Kevin Hartnett looked off into the distance he was bottling up something that needed to be said.

"So come out with it Harnett."

"I'm not trying to keep tabs on you."

"Then what is it?"

"Luce, when Liam called me to say your friend was missing, I..."

"Liam called you?"

"Yes."

"So much for confidentiality."

"The whole country knows Ciara's missing. She's on every milk carton and news program out there."

"Yes, but the whole country doesn't know that I reported it."

"Liam felt I should be aware of the situation that's all. I didn't do anything until you left your house after last night. I only followed to keep an eye out for you."

"Well, thanks for whatever good intentions you and Liam had...sort of. But I'm not a child and I really don't need your help, and I say that with every ounce of kindness, sincerity, due respect etc, etc, etc. My only goal right now is to find Ciara." She slung her handbag over her arm, "plus I'm not sure what your wife will think of you spending a night in a hotel room with another woman, no matter the sleeping arrangements." His stance stiffened, his lips pressed together, but he offered no other information.

"Goodbye Kevin" she said while opening the door "take care of yourself."

*

Eugene Morris was fearful and agitated. He had a business to run, people depended on him - dying people - and all this trouble with Higgins made him feel like an axe was hanging precariously over his head. Everything he had worked so hard to gain, could be lost in a heartbeat if he didn't act swiftly. Hope for a prompt resolution made him reach out to his reclusive contact.

"Hey Pierce, good to see you again." The pressed lips and frown furrowing his brow showed the contrary. Pierce Fahy greeted him with a sharp discerning look while complaining about the lack of sunshine.

"Shaggin' Siberia." In truth neither was really content to see the other. Meeting in public was strongly discouraged, but Fahy had become paranoid of late and would not talk to Eugene over the phone. Apparently he believed his office and home were under constant police surveillance after a handyman worked on some overhead fixtures in his office and a similar electrical problem occurred in his home days later. His wife had let in someone from the ESB without questioning anything and even though he dismantled what he could of the lighting fixtures and went through both places with a fine tooth comb he found nothing. Still, he was wary and would not take chances. Eugene got to the point without preamble.

"We need a new supplier stat. Universal this time."

"They don't grow on trees," Pierce wheezed loudly before lighting up a cigarette. The wind blew his thinning hair about revealing a large bald spot under his comb over. He was the poster child for heart disease being about eighty pounds overweight, a heavy smoker and exercising only to reach for the remote control.

"Don't bullshit me Fahy. You're Europe's supply closet for organ sales."

"I've no idea what you're talking about!"

"Don't fuckin go there with me you fuckwad or I'll have you taken out in a heartbeat."

"Keep you fuckin knickers on Eugene."

"So?" Eugene continued "what's it to be?"

"How quickly do you need it?" A hacking cough interrupted his ability to continue. He took another long drag on his cigarette as if it was a bronchial dilator then continued "... because we're talking weeks domestically. If that doesn't work out we'd have to broaden the field, go overseas even." Morris sighed, "that will complicate things. I don't like it."

"Then why not do a pinch" Pierce took a long drag on his cigarette as he gauged Eugene's reaction.

"This is not fuckin Calcutta!!!!" Fahy looked amused, "disappearances happen all the time."

"That's territory we've managed to avoid. I'd like to keep it that way."

"It's your funeral mate." Throwing the butt to the wind, Pierce exhaled the remnant smoke. Eugene contemplated the idea then reluctantly gave his okay.

"Check your system. You know what I need just in case a miracle happens and you get an exact match."

"What percentage?" Pierce asked.

"Double if I can get it within two days." He turned to leave when Pierce called to him.

"Want to hear something interesting?"

"Maybe."

"Some gang fucker was pulled out of the Liffey this morning."

"Oh yeah?" Eugene said disinterestedly.

"Andy O'Mahoney." Eugene spun around.

"Hammer Higgins' right hand???"

"The one and only. Nobody claimed responsibility but the body was found with the calling card of a rival gang." With a small shrug he continued, "must be some sort of turf war going one. But these new lads are apparently a new level of brutal. They drowned his dog with him." With that, Pierce left Eugene to return to his car.

*

Lucy stepped out from the hotel and into a blustery overcast morning. The wind carried with it the distinct intoxicating smell of ground coffee. With a sudden yearning for a freshly brewed latte she followed the scent like a dedicated blood hound until arriving at Tick's coffee shop. The first feeling of well-being came when she pulled open the door and the aroma of paradise wafted hypnotically to her senses. Ground coffee and baked bread enveloped her like a blanket of comfort. The man behind the counter gave her the nod as he said "morning miss, what can I get you?" She ordered their largest coffee and four slices of toast with jam. "Do you like your coffee strong or mild?"

"I'll have whatever's strongest."

"Tick's special it is then." Lucy laughed "what blend is that?"

"It's a mix I make myself," he answered proudly "guaranteed to keep you going for the day."

"Sounds great." She watched as he selected various grains then ground them in a large grinder before carefully filling the espresso holder and with a flick of a switch black nectar began to flow into a cup. The milk was heated to a frothy head then both mixed together perfectly. It was only after wolfing down two slices of toast and several gulps of coffee that she began to feel normalcy and well-being. The appreciation for the Tick's special grew considerably. By the time she had finished her fourth slice of toast, she ordered two more along with another coffee then headed to the ladies. When she returned Kevin Hartnett was seated at her table, his chair at an angle to hers.

"I thought you had to be at work?"

"I do...." he said leaning back lazily "soon."

"What are you doing here anyway? Are you following me?"

"I'm staking out coffee shops in the area. I knew you were bound to saunter into one."

"There's only one such shop in town."

"Let's call it luck then."

"It certainly is. I could have just gone back to Dublin or Limerick even."

"True, but you have no car, there isn't another bus for an hour and you were probably zombified from having no caffeine in your system. But the main reason I'm here is because you paid the hotel bill."

"As far as I know paying one's bills on time isn't a crime."

"Yes, however it's chivalrous for the man to offer the lady a safe haven. Now that you've gone and paid for your own protection, you've emasculated me."

"You'll get over it."

"Spoken like the truly heartless."

"I'm a realist. There's a difference."

"Explain."

"I'd have found my way here all by myself you know. You're not my knight in shining armor Hartnett. If you were I would have seduced you and left you to pay the bill so get off whatever white horse you're on."

"Really Luce? That would have been nice." She ignored the comment and continued, "well Sherlock Holmes that still doesn't mean you knew I'd come here." Kevin didn't tell Lucy she had been tailed from the hotel by a man he had seen from the hotel window. It could easily have been the attacker from last night. But by the time he had dashed downstairs and tried to follow him, the man was nowhere in sight but he saw Lucy head into the café. He was keeping that information to himself and Lucy in his sight.

"No, but like I said I know how much you need coffee."

"Ridiculous!" Just then her second large mug of coffee was placed on the table along with the toast. Kevin took the opportunity to order a regular coffee.

"For what it's worth, it was lovely being with you last night." Her heart flipped but she answered sardonically, "spoken like a true married man."

"Ouch, Luce."

"Look, you slept in an armchair and we argued over a malodorous stolen phone, so don't make it out to be some passion-filled evening." If he could have said it, Kevin would have told Lucy that being with her was balm to his addled brain. Instead he quipped, "I've had worse evenings."

"Do share!"

"Bleeding out in my car."

"Would you please stop bringing that up." He smiled coyly.

"I will if you tell me about a bad evening you've had."

"Ibiza – three years ago with Mags, Tim and a few other friends -long story short I got a nasty gash above my eye in the wee hours of the morning. I ended up going to an emergency clinic with very loose operating standards. Apparently the staff didn't need to be sober. So in order to receive first aid I had to play the castanets with the medics to the music of Wham's Club Tropicana. They cleaned the wound and stitched it while a lot of foot stomping and olés went on. Mags was weak laughing and joined them, and once the meds kicked in I was laughing too. But I've never listened to Club Tropicana since." Kevin laughed heartily then they both looked at one another for a moment before he leaned closer taking in her face.

"Where's the scar?" Blood flushed her cheeks.

"Nowhere you'll ever see." He reached out and gently placed a stray strand behind her shoulder.

"Beautiful red locks."

"Kevin don't" Lucy said moving out of his reach.

"Sorry" He offered. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." She signalled for the bill.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure you're not free to love my red locks or any other part of me for that matter."

"Look I need to explain something to you."

"You're going to tell me why you're eyes are strained?" This brought a chuckle from him, "right." Then with a long sigh he began, "for a while now, I have been working through some ahm...issues," he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "and getting through them, grand enough." Kevin looked past Lucy as if speaking to himself. "Hit my head against the proverbial wall a few hundred times before I had to accept things for what they are." This was probably making sense to Kevin, but Lucy was at a loss as to what he was trying to say.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I guess with how things are currently - I'd be better off contemplating a career in the priesthood."

"You wouldn't get past your first confession before being expulsed or defrocked or whatever they do."

"True I suppose" he said tentatively leaning forward with his elbows on the table. The idea of a confession held a healing quality for him. Maybe telling the truth wouldn't be so bad. His eyes held hers and in that moment he understood that to reach her, he would have to reveal his shame. Taking a light approach he leaned back in his chair. "Luce, you're like preparation H to a haemorrhoid." She smiled.

"And you're having trouble with the ladies? It boggles the mind." Kevin shifted again, "let's say for argument sake I was having some problems. I'd look like a right cliché telling you something like my wife doesn't understand me."

"Does she not understand you?"

"No she understands me perfectly! That's the problem."

"Explain."

"I suppose you could say, we're on different rungs of life's ladder. She's ambitious in every way, especially socially; wants nothing more than to be at all the crème de la crème events wearing the latest designer clothes, jewellery and what have you. It's been like this for the last three years. I, on the other hand, am very happy to sit at home doing the simple things like reading, watching a bit of tv, walking the dog and maybe...eventually getting around to having a family." Lucy tried to hide how she swallowed hard as his eyes pierced hers. The thoughts of making a child let alone having a child with Kevin Hartnett made her cheeks flush. But he had continued talking while her mind wandered to Lamaze classes and shopping at Baby Gap. She tuned back in "... we'd each pitch our own reasons to convince the other to participate in whatever the other didn't want to do. Sometimes our marketing strategies ended up in heated arguments. It took some time to realize neither of us was capable of compromise. We managed to arrive at an unspoken agreement to keep out of each other's way. We've been living in separate worlds for so long now I suppose it wasn't a surprise when she suggested two months ago that we get a divorce."

"Really!" Lucy pushed her plate aside, "and how did that make you feel?"

"Relieved beyond belief." This was his first time telling anyone. His brothers, his parents, were all happily married, which meant he must have been doing something wrong. There was a deep sense of shame in not being able to make a partner happy no matter how hard one tried. He realized, with Jackie, his best would never be good enough. "Bad as things were I didn't know how to leave or end it. She decided for me which was just as well. So I've lost my house which I built and furnished but there are so many bad memories in that place anyway I can't even cross the threshold. Jackie can have it for her parties and whatever else she wants."

"So where have you been staying?"

"On the couch in the basement of the police station." Lucy winced.

"Sounds cozy."

"It's peaceful, and that's enough for me."

"Are you looking for your own place?"

"No."

"So the couch is where you've laid your hat."

"I have my own place. Remember the house boat?" Lucy smiled then blushed as she remembered the adventures in Kevin's old but cosy house boat on a secluded bank of the river Shannon. "Still, that's a five hour drive round trip each day of the working week."

"I've put in for a transfer to the Claire and Limerick stations. Whichever has an opening first I'll go there."

"Won't you miss being a detective in the big city?"

"Nah. Dublin is great, but I need to be elsewhere to be honest – as soon as possible. I haven't seen Jackie in weeks now and I'm all the better for it."

"Has she tried to contact you?"

"Yeah, to tell me the proceedings aren't going fast enough and what have you. I signed all the papers so now it's just a waiting game. She's not too happy about that and gets very vocal about it over the phone so I've decided to ignore the calls and let things cool down."

"Avoiding the animosity – that's wise Hartnett."

"Well I've not only taken a step back from Jackie but my own family as well." Lucy's eyebrows rose in surprise. Kevin came from a large and very tight knit clan. His three brothers alone were the human equivalent to Hadrian's Wall.

"Don't get me wrong Lucy, I've not fallen out with anyone. It's just their reaction has been to invade me with calls, visits and what have you. All done out of concern, I know, but for once I needed to back away to be able to deal with it all, especially with Jackie being up to her shenanigans again, making her parents think she's a martyr. So on top of everything else I get the calls from the in-laws too wanting to know why I insist on persecuting their little one. If they only knew what she was really like. The whole thing would drive you to drink." Lucy had listened with increasing sadness at Kevin's predicament. He was clearly on the losing end of a bad relationship. Then again there were two sides to every story. It was hard to imagine him angry. In fact she was sure that Kevin would love and care for any woman he chose to be with. He was clearly affected with saving-the-widow-and-orphan syndrome and she certainly wouldn't be here today if he hadn't gone to great lengths to help her. But maybe he was a different person with Jackie; maybe they mutually brought out the worst in each other. He was obviously in need of respite. Without the usual analysis of the situation she made a snap decision that was quite out of character and invited Kevin to stay with her should he get a position in Limerick, at least until he settled in. Kevin's eyes widened in surprise, "that's very generous of you..." He obviously had his doubts, "but no thanks. I don't think you could survive my company for more than a day."

"I made the offer because I would like you to come and live in my house. There's the spare room with ensuite bathroom - rent free of course. The only contribution necessary would be food, cleaning and any repairs needed about the house."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"I'm seeing it as a very convenient solution." Lucy muttered as she fumbled in her handbag then passed the object across the table. "Consider it a retreat from the front lines so to speak."

Kevin's eyes fell to the brass key. "You're serious?"

"Just give me a call before you show up so I don't think you're an intruder and end up hitting you with a toilet brush." He smiled for the first time "yeah, your weapon of choice."

"Well," Lucy said standing up "I had better get going. I'm sure there'll be a bus to Dublin along very soon." Kevin stood too.

"'Luce, please, let me give you a lift." There was no way he was letting her out of his sight. "When we get there I'll see what forensics has done with your car." Her eyes took in the dark clouds rolling across the sky.

"Okay! Sounds good," she said and they made their way outside. Kevin's car was parked a yard away from the café. He scanned the area but saw nothing out of the ordinary. As he was about to open the car door for Lucy he noticed the key of her house was still in his hand. She could not know it, but this was a lifeline he badly needed. For the first time in a long time a feeling of peace fell over him.

"Luce, you're one of a kind." Then he took her into his arms and held her in a tight embrace. Lucy smiled feeling the strength and warmth of him around her. Their bodies fitted together perfectly. The years which had divided them melted away as if they had never parted ways. As her arms slid around his waist she wondered how anyone could give this up when it felt so right. As she felt him pull away a weariness and sadness washed over her. She watched as he opened the car door.

"Your carriage M'am" he joked in a perfect British butler's accent. Then the air of Luck Be A Lady Tonight emanated from the stolen mobile phone in Kevin's pocket.

## Chapter 5

"Are you sure you're ready to hear this?" the aging doctor asked peering over silver rimmed glasses at the extremely nervous man sitting in his office. Bernard Downe, sat awkwardly on the edge of a low stool, was pale, feeling sick to his stomach and not far from the point of fainting, but he had taken the paternity test and wanted to know the results.

Earlier that morning he had gone to the maternity hospital to see the baby, but came upon the two aunts providing security detail and almost bolted away with fear. But something told him to stand his ground, and so he enquired timidly after Eloise. Their first question they asked was if he was drunk and he actually felt relief when they believed his attestation to sobriety. They were strange, intimidating women indeed. They were two separate individuals yet they seemed to behave as one person – like an unseen bond tied them together. He couldn't help wondering if they dabbled in some esoteric mumbo jumbo like midnight lunar dances to the ghost of witches past. The good news was baby Eloise had improved slightly they announced with a proud look towards one another which told him it was entirely due to their presence or incantations, or whatever....certainly not medical science. Her kidneys were functioning at full capacity but there were still concerns for the hole in her heart, and it was being closely monitored to determine if surgery would be necessary. Again the devious smiles the women exchanged revealed there would be no such barbaric butchery conducted on the child....not while they were around. He thanked them for their care of Eloise and was about to turn away when the aunts decided they needed time to get some things done and ordered him to watch over the baby. He stood still until they had gathered up their coats and bags then when they were out of sight, he slowly approached the incubator, peered in and found a beautiful miniature version of Mags sleeping soundly. The mop of black hair stood out in stark contrast to the perfect white skin it framed. Imagining the mound of shiny curls that would soon emerge made him smile. He longed for Mags to be standing beside him sharing this moment and having their whole life ahead as the couple they should have been. But death robbed her of the chance to hold the child which grew within her for nine months and a sudden knot formed in his throat and grew tight. He felt such love for this helpless life and it pained him to think the aunts might take her away to Salem, or wherever they came from. Or worse, Tim-the-bollocks could reappear and keep her, but then he'd neglect her while he went off gambling. Maybe he'd even drag her along to his smoke-filled poker hovels where drunken lecherous men would drool over her. The sudden urge to discover whose blood ran through Eloise's veins propelled him to rush out of the unit and down to the nurse's station where he ordered a paternity test like a thirsty man ordering a pint. Now the results were in and he was about to find out. He was also very much about to shit his pants.

"Most definitely" he neighed trying to convince himself. "I'm ready. Really I am. Definitely ready. One hundred percent." Putting aside the results, the doctor pulled up a chair and sat opposite the man.

"Look, Mr Downe, there's no harm in postponing this for a few days. After all, you've just lost a close friend and that can take a while to grasp. It won't change anything for Eloise whether you know now or later, will it?"

"I'm fine. Honestly. Tell me now, please."

"All right then" the doctor sighed. The clammy forehead and pasty color told him the man was anything but fine. Smiling reassuringly he said "Eloise is your daughter, without a doubt."

Bernard managed to utter a weak thanks before keeling over.

*

Kevin stopped dead in his tracks then turned back to Lucy.

"Answer it!!" he exclaimed. She pressed the phone back in his direction.

"You answer it. Pretend to be Tim." The deep frown showed he was none too happy with this idea, but as the phone rang for a third time he answered it with a generic sounding "Yep. Mmhhhmm?" Kevin said rolling his eyes towards Lucy. Lucy eyebrows rose high while her hand held her neck "sore throat" she whispered lowly.

"Yeah! It's Tim" Kevin croaked "a bit hoarse...yeah." She was only hearing one side but could catch what was being arranged. Kevin was meeting someone at Busaras, Dublin's central bus station. When he hung up, Lucy poured a good dab of antiseptic gel into his hand for handling the malodorous phone.

"Woman! Are you germ phobic or what?" He smiled rubbing the liquid over his hands and ear.

"It's disgusting," she tsked, "any idea who was calling?"

"No. The accent was homegrown that's for sure. He's a Jackeen."

"What did he say exactly?"

"I'm meeting someone at noon, gate twenty four at Busaras."

"Who?"

"No idea. But I have a feeling our friend from last night might be there."

"I'm coming with you." Lucy stated knowing that he would surely protest and send her home. He shrugged a simple "Okay," omitting to tell her the person on the phone had advised him to bring along the red-head beside him.

"Just like that?" She asked in surprise. "No protest, no arguing." With a wry smile he said "waste of energy Courtney. You'd follow me anyway."

"Finally!" She exclaimed, "you're getting it!" With a quick sweep of the empty street, he pulled away from the curb. Whoever was watching them was close enough to see what company he was keeping.

Lucy dialed the second number on the phone log and waited. It had barely rang once when a frantic voice answered "Simon speaking."

"Tim is unable to talk right now, but he asked me to call you." Kevin nodded approvingly. They had just exited Navan's town border and had formulated a plan for when they got to the rendezvous point. Lucy and Kevin knew they were going in blind but they had to try.

"Tim? What the fuck has he been doing?"

"No idea! I'm just the messenger."

"Who are you?"

"The tooth fairy."

"Very effin funny!!! Just answer me, is Ciara alright?"

"Tim is shaking his head - no." Lucy explained.

"Really? Tim-the-fuck-up Thompson is doing that right now?" The voice scoffed. "That's some feat all right when the top headline on the news this morning is the body found in Meath of Tim Thompson. Foul play is not yet ruled out owing to an attack reported at the site late last night." Lucy covered the phone.

"It's on the news about Tim. This guy Simon knows already. How is that?? What about his next-of-kin being notified and all that!?"

"Ask him what he knows about Ciara."

"Answer me!" He gestured urgently so Lucy returned to the call. "Simon," Lucy said in a soft somewhat sad voice, "look we're really friends of Ciara and we're trying to find her. We found your number and thought you might be able to help us. If you know anything about where she might be, perhaps we can still help her." The voice swore loudly, "you should be looking for a body!!!"

"What do you know?"

"All I know is that if Thompson was involved he's screwed up big time that's for sure!!!! His track record is testimony to that." Lucy let him continue without interruption.

"I will guarantee you though if she is harmed in any way shape or form I'll find out who that fucker Tim was working for and hang him high."

"Simon I know you're angry. We all are, but we need to know the whole story. Can you tell us that?"

"Screw you!!! I just want Ciara back."

"We do too."

"Not if you have anything to do with that effer."

"Can you suggest or guess where she might be?"

"As long as it's far away from that fucker Tim and his wife then she's already in a better place." The sound of the dial tone told her the conversation had ended. Lucy turned to Kevin.

"His name is Simon, and he's not a fan of Tim Thompson that's all I've got." Kevin swore. "So explain to me, Detective Hartnett, how a suicide victim is so rapidly identified on the news the morning after he is found dead?"

"The Meath boys checked and found Mags was his only next-of-kin.

'How did they get that information?"

"I called Liam about Tim and he told me about everything...you know about Tim's wife, Mags." Lucy looked at him in fear a moment before her hands covered her face to hide the tears and shame. Those last moments with Mags before the seizure came back tenfold. Nobody knew how fiercely cruel she had been, how she caused Mags' death. How she had left a new born without its mother all for a tough-love ploy. His hand held her wrist.

"I'm sorry Luce. I know she was your friend." Lucy kept her pain covered unable to face the shame. An instant later their movement slowed to a stop and the engine shut down. She heard the driver door open then the passenger door opened and the wind swept in around before he pulled her gently out of the seat and into his arms. He cradled her tightly in silence and she laid against his hard chest. No explanations were requested, no sympathies offered, nothing only comfort existed in that moment and she held onto it like a raft escaping the pull of a sinking ship. His lips pressed against her hair and it took all her strength not to raise her face to meet those lips, but that would be piling on another dose of trouble and pain she did not need. Instead she basked in his warmth and calm until she could finally pull away. He held her hand as she returned to the passenger seat then got back behind the wheel and drove away.

*

Kevin gave a phone number to Lucy then asked her to put the phone on speaker. After two rings Liam in Limerick picked up. They exchanged pleasantries for a moment then Kevin asked him to check Simon's phone number.

"No need to." Liam interjected. "He just came up on one of the museum's tapes we've been reviewing. It was a while back but he seems to know the girl fairly well. Liam put them on hold while he searched through his notes. Moments later he came back, "plus we had him on file anyway as he owns and runs Global Relocations in Perry's Square. Ciara worked for him in the capacity of cleaning lady."

"Thanks Liam."

"What've you got on him?"

"His name came up in Tim Thompson's phone. Just looking for another connection. Any chance you could get someone to keep an eye on Global Relocations?"

"I'll be there meself within the hour."

"Cheers mate," Kevin replied before hanging up.

*

Pierce Fahy's mobile phone rang at a most inopportune time. He was just reading up on a candidate for the pinch. The information from the European Donor Association found an Irish lad in the registry... a great break. The registry went further than most organizations specializing not only in renal diseases, but bone marrow, liver, lungs, and any other body part which could be transplanted. They had a living tissue registry set up to try and match living donors and recipients across Europe's fifty states. Endless information was managed, stored and shared with the medical community. If a person in Spain suffering from end stage renal failure was a tissue match to a living or soon to be deceased person in Ireland the European Donor Association stepped in to get the process of transplantation in order as quickly as possible. Borders were never a problem. All of this information was kept on a mainframe computer in Ennis, Co. Clare and Fahy was the director of that particular section. His team was small and consisted of a supervisor and two young technicians. Because mainframe systems were dinosaurs to their contemporary counterparts and no longer taught in information technology education classes, Pierce passed on to his team everything they needed to know. But while he appeared honest and conscientious, Pierce Fahy was a key player in all European organ trafficking. His motivation came from the fact that he served only one master, money. It was his God and he worshipped devoutly everyday by vigilantly checking a well-stocked off-shore account, investments and other miscellaneous assets all acquired through organs sales. He believed there were serious flaws in the very system he worked on. More people were waiting for transplants than those receiving them. The gravely ill requiring a new organ could do nothing but observe their impending death. Survival depended on a living, matching donor generous enough to give away a piece of their bodies, more often than not it was a family member. The other option was a donation from the freshly deceased or a neuro-vegetative living corpse. Countless were dying while their names sat atop a waiting list. Then there were those who had debt problems; people so indebted either to regular financial institutions, loan sharks, or family members - who could often be just as vicious as loan sharks when it came to wanting their money back - that they could never catch up with repayments. Fahy had a network of contacts who provided an option to the problem by getting those with financial woes to sell their organs, thereby clearing their debt, or at least reducing it. Once the agreement for sale was made, Fahy sent out a 'nurse' to take tissue and blood samples in preparation for a recipient. There were no shortage of legitimate surgeons willing to turn a blind eye to perform the removal of the 'donator's kidney for the right sum. It was the perfect win-win situation. Had it been anyone other than Eugene Morris he would have just ignored the call, but the man was desperate to resolve the Higgins issue.

"Yes," he answered tersely. Fahy waited for the code phrase then responded neutrally, "I'm sorry you have the wrong number." Hanging up, he cursed aloud his service provider for the amount of wrong numbers he received. In truth he told Morris he had found what they needed. If he had responded by saying there is nobody here by that name, Morris would have understood no match had been found. He continued to work for another couple of hours then headed out for lunch to a little bistro around the corner. Before entering, he stopped and lit up his cigarette then returned Eugene's call on a prepaid mobile phone. Morris explained how his recipient had developed some sort of problem. Apparently it was bad hence the panicked tone in the usually calm and confident man.

"Like I said we have a supplier." He heard Eugene take a long slow breath and when he managed to speak he had regained control of his emotions.

"What have you and where is he...or she?"

"His name is Philip Tracey. He's not an exact match but he is a universal donor. It should be good because according to the recipient's blood work he should respond well." Eugene reconfirmed the information then hung up. Fahy hung up and thought that Morris would probably going to end up dead anyway."

*

When they drove into Dublin City, traffic slowed until they sat bumper to bumper. Kevin checked his watch letting out a long sigh.

"You can let me out here," Lucy said picking up her bag "I'll meet up with you later at Busaras." Apparently forensics wouldn't be done with her car for two days yet. Kevin threw her an anxious look.

"No hurry Luce. I just have to pop into the station. Really, it won't be long." That wasn't true, it took over an hour before they actually reached Harcourt Garda station. He wanted to ask Lucy to wait in the car while he sorted things out with his boss, but knew she would not listen to him.

"Come on in Luce, best that we stick together." His eyes peeled the street looking for the man who called but, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Still he knew they were being watched. Lucy followed the direction he was looking.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, no...not at all. You're proof for my boss that I wasn't dossin."

By the time they reached Kevin's cubicle several comments had been amicably thrown at them concerning Kevin's lateness. It was all taken in good stance until Kevin froze on the spot. A simply stunning woman sat at his desk. Flawlessly made up skin emphasized stark blue eyes, cascades of shiny black hair fell onto a white, perfectly tailored pants suit and bold jewellery accessorized the whole glamorous but equally powerful look. Still, her face carried an expression that could only be described as ferocious.

"Jackie" Kevin growled.

Jackie!! Lucy thought. Shit! She is gorgeous....like a Hollywood actress. Lucy felt like a Dickensian-era waif in comparison as she was dressed in dark blue Jeans and a long sleeved pale blue t-shirt still peppered with spots of blood from when she cut her hands on the fence. Her hair hadn't been combed since having showered the night before. The bruising on her neck added color instead of sparkles.

"I've been trying to reach you for the past two weeks, Kevin," she said calmly while pushing an envelope towards him. "I can see now why that has not been possible." Her eyes did not divert from his. Kevin did nothing to assuage her misplaced assumptions, only scoffed lightly, held her gaze and said "Jackie – Lucy. Lucy –Jackie." Lucy held out her hand and went to approach Jackie but the woman looked at it derisively, making no move to meet Lucy. Kevin blocked Lucy from advancing.

"Protective aren't we" she smirked.

"What's up? Where's the fire this time Jack?" The shaded nude pink lips pressed together for a moment "we've already agreed that you will no longer refer to me as Jack. Let's not have that added to the list shall we?" Her tone had gone positively Siberian. Lucy decided this 'hanging out the dirty laundry' was not something she wanted to witness. Jackie had an air of a prize fighter when it came to taking what she wanted and Kevin, while probably able to hold his own for a few rounds, had no hope of coming through with anything other than a bruised ego and an empty wallet.

"Ah yes"' Kevin said bringing his hands together with false reverence "the blessed list that she-who-must-be- obeyed carved out in stone. What's on those two tablets again?" he said shutting his eyes tightly as one does when trying to remember something. "That's right I remember" he exclaimed opening his hands out in prayer, "thou shalt give all possessions to Jackeeee, including house and furnishings. Thou shalt not disagree with Jackeeee, Thou shalt respond anytime Jackeeeee beckons..." The woman stood, slapping her hands on the desk, "you're pathetic!"

"I'm pathetic???" He asked, an index finger directed towards himself. "This from a woman who's holding Granddad Hartnett's war medals hostage because they look good in the snooker room."

"Nobody was wearing them!! Why shouldn't they be put to some use! At least the Hartnett name could be good for something." Kevin made a guttural sound in his throat very much akin to a snarl. He seemed to regulate his temper, diffuse the explosion rocketing to the surface then asked coolly, "so what is it this time? What more could you possibly want to take?"

"There's an amendment to the list."

"I figured as much. What is it?"

"Finn is mine." Kevin looked like he had just been slapped in the face. The color drained from his cheeks for all of three seconds before turning red.

"Have you lost your fuckin mind??????" The tone was loud and menacing. His hands were now on the desk, his shoulders hunched and he was leaning into Jackie like he wanted to bite her. Lucy stepped further back.

"You're not fucking getting my dog!!!!! You never so much as looked at him in the two years we had him. In fact you avoided him like the fucking plague and constantly complained about him."

"Temper – temper Kevin," she tsked haughtily. "I realized he's a good watch dog. I don't want to have to train another mutt, so he will do perfectly." That's when the argument went up a few more notches and Lucy discreetly took her leave unnoticed.

*

Rain and wind whipped around her as she exited the taxi on Store Street hurrying past cars sitting bumper to bumper in endless congestion. Under ominous clouds, Busaras, whose Gaelic translation meant bus building, appeared dull and uninviting. It's cold grey facade of concrete and glass held the promise of similar cheer inside. Passing under the frilled portico entrance caused a tight knot to form in her gut as the reality of meeting whatever category of criminal it may be – petty thug or evil genius - hit home. She had no idea how to deal with any class of delinquent and decided she's have to 'wing it' as they say. ' _Walk Away_ ' an inner voice warned. Goosebumps crept along her legs snaking up her back and arms before ending with an involuntary frisson which shook her shoulders. Two serious assaults in the past four years had left an indelible mark and this reaction, she persuaded herself, was nothing more than a biological siren to be careful. Lucy took a deep breath and relaxed, after all this was a busy public area, no harm would come to her. There was always the option of turning around and walking away, but a minute shake of her head revealed how that was simply inconceivable. There were two very important reasons for this meeting; one - Ciara needed to be found so Lucy could keep her promise to Mags and two - Baby Eloise needed Ciara in her life. A third reason suddenly came to mind, but it had to do with revenge and that was shocking, disturbing even and so best forgotten.

Crossing the tiled hall with a cautious gait, Lucy found the station carried little charm and was, she had read somewhere, disliked by generations of adults who passed through its doors since opening in 1953. Even after being renovated on several occasions, there were apparently few amenities available. The most notorious of problems, which was organizational and not architectural, was the constant last minute scheduling changes which had lines of people reluctantly shuffling to another departure platform, and sometimes back again minutes later. Her eyes took in the high ceiling and open plan design which gave the place a deceptively large feeling when in fact Busaras was quite a small station. A distant memory of being here as a child with Hannah resurfaced, the details were fuzzy, but she could recall feeling her grandmother's hand holding hers tightly, tugging her along in a great hurry. Where they ended up or who they visited she couldn't recall, but it had been her first time ever that Hannah had ever been really cross with her. Lucy tried to remember why her loving grandmother was behaving so out of character but drew a blank. It must have been at least eighteen years ago if not more.

Shaking off the past, she paused at a tiered Plexiglas stand pretending to review pamphlets on bus schedules while discreetly scanning the area in search of somebody who appeared suspicious or ruffian-like. Everyone seemed to be a regular passenger with only luggage or a harried gait to distinguish them. There were families burdened with heavy bags, while others travelled lightly, almost effortlessly. Some were dashing to catch a bus, while others wore the bored gaze of having too much time to kill, but all were in transition. Nobody seemed to be loitering, nobody seemed dangerous. Still, they'd hardly advertise themselves as bad guys, Lucy told herself. The clock on the wall told her there were fifteen minutes left before the meeting would take place. How was this going to pan out, she wondered. She had no plan, no protection. The platform in question, twenty-four, was at the far end from where she stood and according to the schedule there wouldn't be a bus there for another hour. Making her way over to the spot, she chose the nearest row of seats with a direct view of the gate. It would probably have been wiser to have waited for Kevin, but there was no way she would have stayed while he and his wife argued hotly over their dog. Admittedly that wasn't the only reason for her flight, the sight of the perfect Jackie brought into focus how Lucy's feelings for Kevin seemed so foolish. _God, why did I even have notions of sleeping with him – fool that I am- I could never compare to that level of perfection._ Feeling the hot flush rise in her cheeks Lucy decided going through this meeting alone was better than facing Kevin Hartnett again. She crossed her arms and legs tightly, waiting for the noon hour to strike. The stranger was not punctual but he was stealthy. Thirty minutes had passed when a man two seats down turned in her direction.

"So where's the cop?" She jolted, showing her surprise at the person sitting so close for the past twenty minutes, spoke. He was a body-builder type with no neck and stubby fingers which held large, ugly rings. His clothes looked like they had all shrank in the wash, including his leather jacket. It took a moment for her brain to register the question he had asked.

"Arguing with his wife," she responded as unruffled as possible. Not an easy task given that her heart was pounding madly in her chest.

"So you're here alone?"

"I'm here about Ciara."

"Aye, so am I. But that doesn't answer my question."

"The place is surrounded."

*

Kevin was crossing the short albeit heavily congested distance to Store Street, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, his anger pulsating in a throbbing vein on his forehead. _Fuck it!!_ , he swore numerous times. He had once more got caught up in the usual rhetoric and machinations with Jackie and now Lucy was gone!! He thought she had returned to the car but one of the lads told him she caught a taxi. Sweet harmless Lucy had headed off to Busaras alone. He felt like a prize fucking prick!! He had one of his colleagues call Busarus to check on Lucy but there was no sign of the woman matching the description given. That did not bode well in Kevin's book and he switched on the emergency lights to get through traffic faster. He had to angrily honk at other drivers to make way. Driving emotionally charged went against his training, but he couldn't give a fuck about that. Standing at gate twenty four, his back faced the bus parked outside, his eyes scanning the crowd of people lined up to travel to...he turned to the sign indicating the destination...Newtownpothouse. _Really_? he thought to himself, _shaggin' weird name!_ The Pothouse passengers had all boarded the bus, but still there was no sign of Lucy. He didn't even know if she was going to show up. Maybe she had already left the station and took off back to Limerick. After the showdown between himself and Jackie, who could blame her? On the spur of the moment, he boarded the bus, showed his badge to the driver then walked along the aisle scrutinizing the faces as he went by. There was no sign of her and nothing out of the ordinary so he descended increasingly disgruntled at the situation. Once the bus departed he circled the entire building both inside and out. His car, which he had parked with complete disregard for other people's needs to access the area, was drawing attention from security and traffic wardens. He ignored the scene and returned inside. A frantic Kevin immediately asked the agent at the information desk to get someone from security. Ten minutes later Kevin was in the company of a middle-aged security agent both of them gazing into a monitor which showed Lucy interacting with a man. Kevin was given three tapes which he took then headed back to the police station as quickly as traffic would allow. He intercepted a computer technician, who was just taking a large bite out of a sandwich, handed him the tape and asked for an immediate viewing. It wasn't long before Kevin was looking at the face of a man who was familiar, but he couldn't remember his name. Wasting no time he pulled out his mobile phone dialled a number from his contacts and waited for the person to answer on the other end. After two rings it was picked up "well if it isn't Mr Hartnett Himself" came the slow and easy voice on the other end of the line.

"Dolores, I need your photographic memory right now!" Kevin sounded rushed. "Where are you?"

"Where I always am Honey!" he heard her shuffling papers "chained to my desk."

"Can you release your shackles and come meet me in the tech room I have something I need you to see."

"Be there in a minute." Officer Dolores Murphy was the go to person for anything administrative. She did the final preparations on a lot of their cases and had a memory like no other. With nearly twenty five years of service under her belt, she was renowned for her recall abilities and once she saw a face, never forgot it. But like anything there's a flip side to such a talent. One day Dolores came face to face with a man wanted in connection with the murder of a fifteen year old girl – that man was at the altar marrying a distant cousin of hers. Needless to say the wedding was called off when she arrested him in front of the whole congregation. The family appreciated Dolores' intervention but she never got invited to another family wedding. Kevin was sure she would recall the name of the man in the frame. A loud _hmmpfff_ escaped her lips as though disappointed with the lack of challenge.

"Donny Dunne – one of Hammer Higgins' minions. He's a climber - went from being look out in the housing estate they own, so to speak, to body guard when he took a bullet meant for his boss back in 1992. Since then he's rarely seen without the Gangland's chief." Kevin's level of anxiety just soared.

"Hammer Higgins' bodyguard?" This was the last person on earth he wanted to be with Lucy. "But they're just brutal fuckers! Butchers the lot of them."

"There isn't much butchering ability left in Higgins anyway" Dolores chimed in with a jolly tone "he's on his way out as we speak. Renal failure I heard it was – probably due to too much ecstasy." The technician called to Kevin "you have got to see this!" Both Dolores and Kevin turned in unison towards the screen. "This second tape captured different images from the side of the building – check this out." A much clearer image showed Lucy stopping as a white van cut in front of her. The side door opened and in an instant a man hopped outside making a grab for Lucy. She was startled and tried to run. Donny Dunne appeared from the van, sprinted after, picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a feather and brought her back. In an attempt to get her into the vehicle, she was pressed hard against the panelling but managed to push him away by pressing her legs against the metal like a coiled spring then vaulted back with all of her strength. Dunne lost his balance and stumbled to the ground, Lucy's boot came into direct contact with his face before she tried once more to run away. A second man bounded from the van. Kevin shouted, "Freeze that there!!!!! Who is he?" Dolores whistled after the image had been magnified.

"Look at that.....Mr Gerry Owens or Dog Owens in the flesh ...very much alive and well. He hasn't been on the radar since '84. Many thought he was dead, myself included."

"Good job Dolores!" Kevin called. Secretly his patience was waning. He wanted to see Lucy getting away, but the technician suddenly became curious.

"What was he in for D?"

"'You name it, he did it!" Dolores responded. "He was an assassin for hire back in the day and I doubt he's had a career change."

"Any idea why he's been laying low for so long?"

"Some say he was a mercenary in different parts of the world. The last time he was seen was in some Red Faction caper, but nobody knows the extent of his involvement. One thing is sure though, he was always about the pay check. So if he's back it's because there's some major goodies in it for him." Glancing again at the screen she noted "strange...he's not being cautious about his identity. Something's up." The technician pressed play to resume the video and Kevin watched as the man 'Dog' caught her. Kevin swore under his breath. The image continued and his sense of dread deepened. Dog grabbed her but she swung her knee into his groin. He dropped heavily to the ground curling up in the foetal position. The fight ended seconds later when the Dog regained control grabbed her hair hard and with one touch to the neck she fell limp in his arms, was bundled inside and quickly carried away. The whole scene lasted twenty seconds.

Kevin was on the phone, his eyes still on the screen. His jaw clenched hard as he waited for dispatch to pick up. When they responded he ordered an APB out on Dog, Dunne, Gerry Owens and the vehicle explaining a kidnapping had taken place. He then called Liam.

"This Simon fella knows Ciara and is connected in some way to this whole thing. Haul him in for questioning and call me the instant you learn anything." He went on to describe Dunne's and Owens' involvement and what they did to Lucy. Liam listened intently on the other end and did not like what he was hearing. There was a tone of worry in Kevin Hartnett's voice, something he had not heard in a long time, four years to be exact. That was when Lucy was in trouble last. Kevin had behaved exactly the same way. There had been that slight tremor in his intonation just as there was now. But back then he wasn't married, this time around he was and that didn't sit well with Liam at all. Marriage was for life – come what may - and you did what you had to make it work. He knew Kevin and Jackie were going through a bit of a rough patch, but he had been confident they'd get through it given time. However, now that the walking disaster herself -aka Lucy Courtney - had resurfaced their union would be doomed to fail. For Liam, it defied reason why his best friend still carried a flame for Lucy. She certainly paled in comparison to Jackie. One was smart and sophisticated, a real classy lady and what a looker – not to mention the body. Lucy, well she just wasn't in the same league at all, although she was a nice enough girl to talk to. It was like comparing mutton to filet mignon. He tuned back in to what Kevin had been saying and heard the menacing tone "they had better not harm her. That's all I'm saying." Feeling it was about time his friend copped himself on Liam stated boldly, "Does Jackie know about.....Lucy?'" The question caught Kevin completely off guard and for a moment he felt confusion. Dunne, Owens they were to be caught, Lucy was the priority. She had been taken? Where was she now? But in all of that Liam had mentioned Jackie. Then it hit him! Liam was giving him the fucking marriage spiel again. It was aggravating to say the least. If he had experienced a tenth of what life was like with Jackie, he was certain Liam would cut him some fucking slack. Still, Kevin kept everything to himself and would not enter into any details on his marriage, much less its failure.

"Liam," Kevin said, his tone ice cold, "keep the fuck out of my business." The monotone hum of the dial tone announced Liam had hung up. With anger carousing through his veins, Kevin took a deep breath to detach himself from what just happened. Focusing on getting Lucy back was all that mattered, dealing with Liam could be done later. Much later. He found Dolores reviewing the tape again and smiled, knowing it was to give him privacy.

"Right then", she quipped cheerily "if there are no more of Ireland's finest to identify, I'll put my shackles back on."

"Thanks Dolores...." Kevin said just as the now familiar ring of Luck Be A Lady Tonight resonated in the room. He dashed to where he had hung his jacket, retrieved the phone, selected the talk key and held the slightly less malodorous phone to his ear. A voice on the other end of the line spoke before he could say anything.

"Detectif Hearrtnet, hope you are well." It was the same Dublin accented man as before.

"So what's going on?" Kevin asked nonchalantly, but stress had his jaw clenched like iron again.

"The red-head is with us now and will remain that way until you find Ciara."

"Well you're going to have some fuckin' wait because she hasn't the foggiest where this Ciara is and neither do I. We don't even know why she disappeared."

"The Ciara gerl is scared, that's all. So, find her or we will not be holding on to your bit on the side for very long. Tim's phone number is all you have to keep her alive." For the second time within five minutes Kevin was left listening to the dial tone.

*

Lucy heard what was being said but could neither see nor speak; adhesive tape of some sort, probably duct tape, wound tightly around her wrists, ankles, and mouth. A black hood was placed over her head. Her breathing came in short rasps after fighting to escape. Roaring panic careened through her body as memories of the man who once tried to kill her came back. Terry Doohan' s insane face invaded her mind. She was back in his house, a prisoner about to be removed from the world for some offence she had not committed. It was her worst nightmare happening all over again. Offering a heartfelt prayer to Hannah, Lucy pleaded to the heavens to get her out of this. The voice of reason admonishingly replied " _you were warned to get out of Busaras, but you didn't go_." Lucy contritely admitted to being wrong, she should have waited for Kevin to meet her at the station. But the meeting was so non-descript. After she told the stranger the place was surrounded he just chuckled loudly and told her to go home as if to a stray dog. Battling a mix of relief and foolishness she had headed away not knowing which direction to take in terms of finding Ciara. Next thing she heard the screech of brakes, saw the same man pounce from the white van and try to grab her and then something snapped in her mind. His voice, she recognized as the man at the Thompson estate, the one whose hands had tried to choke the air from her lungs. The third reason, revenge came back but was no longer shocking. Revenge! She wanted to hurt, to really harm him. No more would she be assaulted, no more would she take the force of a blow. In hindsight the rage probably came from there. The escape attempt didn't work out but she would try again as soon as an opportunity presented itself. Lucy tuned back into what they were arguing about.

"I'm calling my boss – you just go fuck yourself okay!!!" That had been the one Lucy met at the station.

'Chill' the strangler ordered. "I'm making the call." A few seconds later he spoke again. "Where to Boss?" The call must have ended because the Busaras guy asked the other where they were going. The strangler must have turned in her direction because when he said "The Office" Lucy felt he was inches from her face and smiling sadistically. Her stomach dropped into her intestine.

*

Ten minutes later in a secluded parking spot in Limerick's Perry's Square Liam's intense gaze followed the man exiting the offices of Global Relocation. The structure, a four-storey Georgian townhouse on the city's south side faces the People's Park and appeared identical to the adjoining houses on the quaint street. It would seem that only the different colored doors or climbing ivy distinguished some from others. Residential condos occupied many of the upper floors, while the ground floors had been converted to offices for various law firms, notaries, and other low profile businesses.

"Is that him?" Fiona, his colleague peered through the binoculars. The man's walk was hurried panicked even.

"That's him alright." She passed the binoculars back, "take a look." Liam saw a thirty-something, well-built lad with dark hair cut with little spikes protruding from various angles. The clothes were fancy. He took in the black satchel slung over the left shoulder – now what do you have in there? Depressing the button on the camera the mechanism whirred as the powerful zoom lens captured several profile shots. His face has not yet come into full view. Everything Fiona had written about Simon Maer's description fitted. Ciara's workplace had been one of the first places investigated. After talking with Maer for about twenty minutes, Fiona's conclusion was that he appeared to be hiding something, but that she felt he did not qualify as a suspect.

"I'd say he's looking mighty suspicious right now. Wouldn't you?" Fiona took that as her cue to go and arrest Maer.

"Hang on!' Liam urged, 'we'll see where he's going."

"We could also lose him."

"I'll follow him. You get a search warrant for his business." As Simon walked further away Liam held the key near the ignition ready to follow. Simon slowed down then stopped next to a gleaming red smart car. The alarm chirped and the booth opened automatically. He placed the satchel inside and just as he was about to close it when he looked around distractedly. Again Liam rolled off several shots and handed the camera to Fiona. Simon sped past unaware of anything. Fiona hopped out discreetly blew Liam a kiss and said 'husband, do not be late for supper.' He smiled at their way of telling each other to come home in one piece. Liam was speeding on the motorway heading west toward Shannon airport, but the red car was further ahead, its powerful engine putting his sedan to the test. If Simon was going to the airport there was a good chance of catching him. But if he was traveling further into County Clare or Galway he could easily lose him. In a pre-emptive attack he called Kevin for back up.

*

Lucy felt they had travelled for approximately twenty minutes before the van stopped. A whirring sound and then a creaking noise was heard. The van inched forward before the engine shut off completely. The side door slid open, her arms were yanked in front. Instinctively she bent her head low all the while pressing her feet hard on the floor afraid she'd fall out the door.

"C'mon, c'mon" the Strangler uttered in annoyance a second before she felt a hand grab behind her head forcing her body to bend and fit across his shoulders. A muffled scream was the only way to express her fear of what was to come.

"Not worth it!", he barked repositioning her slightly, "nobody around here will hear you." His hands clamped harder onto her legs making her wince in pain. He yelled back to the passenger "you know where to go." Lucy was bobbed along up two flights of stairs, got her head banged twice and felt a strong need to puke by the time she was flung into an extended chair of sorts. Her arms were pulled to the side, the tape tugged for a second before splitting in two and releasing her bind. He laughed at the groan of relief she made when crossing her arms.

"Just don't touch that hood or you'll be one sorry bird." It was the movement to her left that truly set her off. The Strangler was still to her right, but there was somebody to her left. That, more than anything before now, made her feel hopelessness. A cold hand took her left wrist gently, but she tugged it back. The Strangler, still standing to the right held both arms down without saying a word. A piece of paper tore open just before a cold wet swab passed over the center of her left inner arm. An elastic band was tightened around her bicep.

"What in God's name are you doing?" Lucy cried, but it only came out as muffled nonsense. The Strangler barked, "keep a cool head Red. Relax that fuckin arm!!" The direction of his voice changed.

"That sterilization necessary, Doc?" No response was given. Fingers gently prodded along the skin in search of a vein. Seconds later she felt the slow pinch of a needle piercing her skin and squealed in fear. What they were injecting into her she had no idea, drugs? Rufies? Who knew! But it was the stroke that broke her will. Invisible to their eyes tears flowed copiously onto the hood. Whatever horrors lay ahead, she wished death would come quickly, she wished for Hannah to hold her tight, but most of all she wished she had kissed Kevin Hartnett one last time.

"Cancel the back-up. We have what we need here."

*

Liam slowed below the required speed in order to scour the roads for signs of his back-up. It had been forty five minutes since he had called Kevin and he wondered if it was too late. The Simon fella could be miles away by now. Then he spotted it. The gleaming red car, seemingly abandoned, lay parked haphazardly at the side of the road. The driver's door was open and a navy blue van was parked directly in front of it. A wide smile broke onto Liam's face as he quickly killed the engine before hurrying over to the vehicle. A huge man emerged from the back of the Econoline and instantly broke into a hearty belly laugh.

"You're still as fuckin mad as ever Liam Cunningham!" he cried while grabbing his hand for a hearty handshake.

"'Ham, you're the fuckin best!!! I can't believe you've got him already."

"Arrah no problem at all." Ham Hartnett beamed. "It gave us an excuse to get away from domestic chores." With a wink of his eye he went on "the women are fierce hard on us altogether!" Before Liam had a chance to retort Dan and Eamonn descended from the same vehicle. Ham, Dan and Eamonn were Kevin's brothers and capable of doing anything, especially if it was on the periphery of the law. Ham was the oldest of the siblings and leader of this motley band. His physique had changed little over the years. He was still a tad portly but strong as an ox. His nick name had stuck to him since childhood before farm work transformed puppy fat into solid muscle. His hair was still as wild as ever, suiting his personality perfectly. Dan on the other hand was similar to Kevin in height but the build was broader and his skin more weathered due to years of farming the land looked like he had strayed from another nest. He was long, gangly and completely different from his siblings. They often called him scallion –a green onion – because he was so much taller and thinner, plus he could eat anything and never put on weight. Ham often said Eamonn was thin because he had tape worm and Eamonn lived under the constant threat that they'd dose him with anti-worm stuff some night if they were drunk enough. Liam threw a nod towards the van with a worried look "are ye not afraid leavin' that fella in there by himself?" Ham folded his arms across his broad chest and asked with a glint in his eye, "Afraid?" Ham asked with raised eyebrows "Why should I be fuckin afraid." Liam realized he had worded his question badly and repeated it slightly edited.

"Is it a good idea to leave him alone in there?" Again Ham observed Liam with a judgmental grin "who says he's alone?"

"Why? Who else is in there?" Liam asked in great surprise. Eamonn walked over and opened one of the back doors then beckoned for Liam to come see. With a hand in his pocket he crossed the short few steps to the van then peered around. Simon Maer sat on the van floor sweating profusely while a huge black mastiff sat an inch from his face breathing heavily and drooling copiously at the same time.

"Finn!" Liam exclaimed.

"I'm minding Kev's dog" Eamonn whispered conspiratorially "a kind of protection detail if you know what I mean." Liam didn't, but decided not to question it any further. Dan nudged "Go on in while Liam chats with your man." When he hopped into the back of the van, Simon moved prompting the dog to a ready stance. A deep menacing growl was followed by more slobber. Eamonn with one snap of his fingers had summoned the animal who probably weighed more than himself. Once seated obediently next to his surrogate master he got an ear rubbed for a job well done. Liam looked at the surly faced Simon and asked "do you know why you're here?" No reply came. Instead Simon chose to look away. Liam rubbed his chin in an effort to remain patient.

"I don't have time for any games here lad, so I'll ask you one last time, do you know why you're here?" The silence continued. "Right then" Liam said in a matter-of-fact manner "Eamnon, get Finn to give him a few kisses will ya?"

"Okay!!!" The man shot, "I don't know why I'm here."

"Really?" Liam asked quizzically "because your face is telling me otherwise. Now you've already been questioned concerning the disappearance of Ciara Madden so I can only suppose you must know why." The man looked incredulous, "you ambush me like this just because of a missing cleaning lady!!!!"

"Aha!" Liam exclaimed, "So you do know why you're here." Again the surly silence continued.

"Tell me, do you bring all your cleaning ladies to the Gerst Museum?" The suspect's eyes widened and instantly Liam he was involved with Ciara's disappearance. "Is Simon Maer your real name?"

"I want a lawyer."

"Iwantal Awyer? What kind of name is that? Russian?"

"No! I-want-to-have-a-lawyer with me!"

"To have a lawyer would mean you have rights, but out here in the middle of County Clare you have no rights. It's just us lot, the dog and you."

"I'm reporting this to the police. It's illegal!" Liam spoke with dead calm. "Well you'd have to start by being actually able to get yourself to a police station. But why would you do that? There's nothing illegal going on here. Your car broke down on the road and some local people stopped to help you out, but what they found was someone inebriated, confused, irrational - a danger to other motorists."

"I'm not drunk!"

"You will be if you don't talk. And don't doubt our capacity to have you arrested for impaired driving. The local police, those men outside and their families; this is a community that's been unchanged for generations. Their word will go a lot further than that of an unknown city boy." Without breaking eye contact with him, Liam called out towards the brothers who had now congregated near the van.

"'Ham, got any refreshments for our guest?" A moment later Ham stood at the van's rear with an unopened bottle of paddy's whiskey in one hand and a funnel in the other.

"How's this for ya Liam? The funnel's still got bits of mothor oil on it, but sure the alcohol will kill anything it comes into contact with."

"You're on the ball" Liam said with deadly seriousness." Finn was beginning to grow impatient and growled deeply before licking his wide mouth.

"Arrah sure why not - you can have a drop too Finn" Ham said with a big wink and nod of the head at the dog

"You're all completely and utterly insane!!!!!" Simon cried. Eamonn leaned in and piped up cheerily, "Welcome to County Clare."

## Chapter 6

Liam got out of the van "Eamonn let's first get that other car off the road. He's reluctant to talk, so this is probably going to take a while."

"Okay –no problem." Eamonn turned to Liam.

"Finn's fierce protective." Then to the dog said "if tha' fella moves you can eat him." Ham couldn't get inside the diminutive car, so Dan had the task of driving the car just inside the field under some bushes which hid it from view. Satisfied that no attention would be drawn to their illegal interrogation, Liam returned alone and in a relaxed manner explained to Simon that they were going to be together for days if necessary in order to get him to talk. The man was so nervous, so panicked at the thought of wasting precious time he cracked.

"Look, I'll explain everything okay, but only because I really need to go" he said pleadingly. When Liam did not respond he went on.

"My name is Simon Maer and I have no idea what happened to that girl. She said she liked the museum and I brought her there once but that was it! I swear! I mean she always finished her work before the office would even open and we hardly ever saw her. There, I told you! Now just let me go!"

"Well Simon –if that's even your real name – I don't think what you just said is true at all and to be honest you're starting to fuckin piss me off."

"Everything I told you is the truth; I run Global Relocations, and with the recession let me tell you it's going down the toilet big time. Nobody's relocating here anymore. I'm surviving on those who are leaving the country. ... I mean what else do you want to know?"

"Where do you live? How long have you lived there? Do you have family?"

"I live in an apartment near the Tait center. I've been there for five years and I have no family."

"What happened to them?"

"They died."

"Of what."

"A truck ploughed into their car! Look! Will you please stop!! I cannot help you. I sincerely hope you find this person. I really do, but I am not involved."

"Well" Liam said with finality "I'm not the one you have to convince. So sit tight with Finn and I'll be right back." Liam spoke with the brothers explaining he was bringing Simon to Kevin and appreciated all their help. But the Hartnett trio was not the kind to be brushed off easily, and wanted to be told what was happening. Considering it wise not to get on the wrong side of this particular trio, Liam filled them in after a long pause and a sigh of resignation.

"A girl called Ciara has gone missing, her sister was a good friend of Lucy Courtney. Unfortunately Mags died in childbirth. Lucy tried to find Ciara and now she's been taken by the people we think are connected to Ciara's disappearance. This fella Simon, is in this somehow and we're trying to find out how." Dan was the first to speak up.

"We'll be coming with you then" he declared as if some unspoken consensus had been reached, "...you know...to help out." They had gotten a taste of adventure and wanted to tag along.Ham and Eamonn eagerly agreed.

"Lads" Liam said already shaking his head "there's no way you can get involved in a police matter like this. Kevin's running this one and you know what he'll say."

"For fuck sake" said Ham "we got involved the minute he called us." His brothers chorused his words. "And Kevin" Ham continued "can think he's running a circus if he wants, but he's not gonna stop us."

"Honestly", Liam said "I can't have ye coming with me" and made his way to the van. When he opened the back door he heard a soft whistle behind him. The large mastiff stood growling centimeters from Liam's face. Ham casually walked over to Liam and asked him how he felt about them coming along.

"You're all very welcome" Liam croaked. Dan cried "Good on ya boyo!" They boarded the van keeping Simon, Finn and Eamonn in the back. Ham hopped in Liam's car, just to make sure he didn't try to lose them along the way. The Clare and Limerick contingency left for Dublin. Liam contacted Kevin and told him that Simon, who was with him, was adamant to get to a certain place in Dublin. He didn't have the exact address and wouldn't give any other information but it was obvious from his nervous disposition that he was up to something. No mention was made of the extra passengers.

*

Lucy eyes opened as if her name was being called from far away. The voice was amplified, mechanical almost. There was a light above her but it was not in focus. She blinked several times for clarity and finally saw a lamp similar to what her dentist used. Two plastic handles on either side held the halogen bulbs behind a frosted synthetic panel. She tried to remember how she got here but could not recall anything. There was a nauseating odor of disinfectant, just like in a hospital. _Oh God I'm in a hospital. I'm in a hospital_. A shot of panic burst through, her breathing became erratic; she tried to speak, but nothing came out. Her whole body felt confined. She tried to sit up but a restraint pulled tightly on her forehead preventing her from taking in her surroundings. She knew she was lying on a cold metal slab of sorts, like a stretcher but without the cushioning. More restraints pinned her wrists and ankles to the steel frame. She realized she was naked but covered with a paper disposable gown. Who had undressed her? Where? What had been done to her? Or was going to be done? She struggled to break free, wriggling fiercely. Just then a flash of being in the bus station caused her to gasp. The van, the fight, the needle... But it was only a blood test. They had kept her bound for a few hours before injecting her again. That one knocked her out. Sweat broke out on her body as tears rolled down her face. She tried to talk but her mouth felt paralyzed. Inside she screamed Kevin's name hoping in some way to connect with him. Two men wearing surgical masks and green scrubs entered her field of vision.

To the person observing her every move she was only twitching. Eugene Morris leaned slowly into the intercom and spoke "Relax Lucy. It will all be over soon." He would have reassured her some more but his phone rang. He took his finger off the key and answered.

*

Across the city while Lucy lay unconscious Ciara Madden sat shivering violently on the concrete floor of a filthy phone booth. She had finally found the courage to the leave the derelict block of flats that had become a hide-out for the past so many days, she lost count. That long-abandoned building had been condemned for demolition years ago by the city, but the five-storey eye sore had fallen through the bureaucratic cracks of mismanagement rendering it a shelter for the truly desperate. Ciara seemed to be the only one fitting that description, and for that small mercy alone, she was grateful. Nobody came into the place in the five days she had been there. But the solitude had been endless hours of hell. Only the sound of scurrying rats obstructed the voice in her head screaming for her to get out of there, to run away. But she couldn't, he had warned her to wait for him, to not move or Mags would be killed.

"Poor Mags", Ciara whispered "did you have the baby? Are you home, happy with what you've always wanted?" Her thin arms wrapped tightly around her knees in an effort to protect herself, but it was in vain. The biting cold night compounded with the damp air made her light clothing useless in providing any warmth. Each gust of wind blowing through the cracks in the wall cut like a knife. Hunger and thirst were a constant reminder that her last meal had been at least four days earlier. The last drink of water was twelve hours ago. It felt as if sand had lodged in her mouth and throat, making it painful to swallow. Perspiration dripped from her hair, her nose felt numb, her heart broken. A stray glance to her upper arm made her turn away quickly in disgust. The burning sensation made it impossible to ignore the growing infection from the upper half of a large hypodermic needle lodged deep within the muscle. A blatant reminder of how she had failed herself and others. She had set out to help them but then everything went wrong. Tim didn't come back even though he promised to come get her. Maybe it was fatigue, fever, hunger or just plain insanity, but the screaming in her head was incessant, as if Mags was bossing her about, telling her to get out, move on, save herself. Ciara knew she was capable of leaving the hole she was in, but she was just so afraid of ruining the deal for the others. Tim's last words to her were nasty, _try not to fuck this up like you did everything else_. And she had managed to get it wrong again. Still, facing the music was better than running away from it. Maybe something happened to Mags or the baby and that was keeping Tim away.

Feeling scared beyond belief she found the courage to leave the safety of the hole and stumbled weakly out through rubble and garbage until the sunlight touched her face. Suddenly conscious of her dishevelled appearance she placed her hair behind both ears, smoothed her hands along the cream chiffon angel top which had since turned grubby and stained. The dark skinny jeans were completely covered in white dust from rubble and boy did she smell bad! Food, a shower and change of clothes would feel heavenly right now. At the third public phone she got lucky and found the vandalism was minimal enough to allow communication. She had walked forty minutes from the hole and was, in her weak state, showing signs of near collapse. Even in the worst part of the wrong side of town people crossed the street to avoid her and one pusher offered her a fix and food for a good time. Nodding a silent but fierce 'no', she stumbled on.

The receiver felt heavy and it seemed to take great effort just to press the '0' key. The operator answered immediately.

"Hello?" Her voice trembled.

"How may I direct your call?" Between sniffles and shivers Ciara managed to articulate her request.

"I'd like to place a collect call" then recited the number of a person she considered dangerous for her emotionally, but was the only one who could possibly help her. Within seconds she heard the operator ask if he wanted to accept the call from a Ciara. The reply was a gushing "yes of course!!!!" She managed to whisper "Simon" before bursting into tears.

Simon Maer, with his shock of black spiky hair, sun kissed skin and deep black eyes, was what Ciara secretly described as fierce gorgeous. His toned body towered above her petite frame and when he passed close to her, his cologne made her knees wobbly. But it was his smile that sent her hormones racing to parts of her body she had long considered dead. It had been like that since she first saw him four months earlier. May twenty-fourth was forever seared in her memory not only as the night she first laid eyes on him but was a close call to falling hard off the wagon. The wind had howled wildly that night as she made her way into work from Mags' house. A Gale force storm slowed her normally brisk stride extending the forty five minute trek to an hour and thirty minutes. Because no buses serviced the city after eleven p.m., and taking a taxi would put too much of a hole in her budget, alternative means of transport were limited. Cycling was her preferred mode of getting from A to B and she was happy to say that there were few occasions when she couldn't use her bike –black ice being one, and what was being served up tonight was another. Mother Nature was putting on quite the show. Roofs were giving up shingles to the storm Gods, while trees offered the odd branch in sacrifice. A few gusts had been so forceful clinging to the nearest street lamp was the only way to avoid being blown onto the road. Some would question her sanity for going out in such inclement weather, but for Ciara, there was never question of absenteeism no matter the circumstances. She needed this job and would not risk being laid off because of a storm, a flu, or anything for that matter. And so it was that the four foot eight, ninety pound cleaning lady for Global Relocations arrived in the dead of night, windswept but happy. The office security system was disarmed by entering a personal code onto a keypad affixed to the exterior wall. Once the double chirp of deactivation sounded, she turned the key in the brass lock then stepped quickly into the lobby taking shelter from the elements. Ciara set her belongings on the handcrafted wooden bench in the hallway then set to work in her usual methodical way, passing silently like a shadow through the four storey house. Hers was an unhurried but rigid routine, necessary to keep herself sober and clean. Through trial and error she found sticking to small daily goals meant not straying towards temptation. But despite her best efforts, every now and again the cravings came hard and fast. Just a lingering smell of alcohol would stir up the worst yearnings, and the only thing stopping her from knocking back a bottle of vodka was talking with her sponsor, Charlie. He was a man sober twenty eight years, and was always there to help her through it one minute at a time. When the weight of wrongful doings and the shame that goes with a dark past became too heavy to carry, Charlie would listen intently until she could take up her cross and carry it once again. Sometimes he would share a little of his own story, admitting that his wicked ways had terrified others back in the day and he left several people emotionally scarred for life. But he had been able to go back to those he had hurt and apologize, make amends in some little way. Not everyone forgave him and he accepted that. Ciara could not do the same, she could not go back and make amends because the dead can't hear. Before cleaning the upper floor, she headed to the kitchen and proceeded to make a night breakfast. This consisted of two slices of toast, white bread with butter, home-made jam and a strong cup of unsweetened tea. If anyone else had been there, Ciara would never have found the courage to eat with them. She was always self-conscious about anything she did and felt scrutinized. The wonderful thing about being a cleaning lady was in the two and a half years occupying that position she had never met another soul. It suited her perfectly. She was a ghost cleaner. The day she was hired, Tina the researcher had shown her what was needed to be done, but Ciara quickly found it to be insufficient and established her own routine. Dusting, polishing and tidying was the norm and every couple of weeks the heavy duty cleaning was done. Nobody asked her to do that, but she had come to look at Global Relocations as her second home and applied herself as she would her own house. Windows were cleaned, floors scrubbed and carpets steamed at regular intervals. Each floor got a thorough scrubbing according to her schedule. Within a few months her pay had increased and Tina would leave her little notes of thanks with a small bonus from time to time. Ciara was happy with the extra money but greatly appreciated the thanks. After night-breakfast, she tackled the street level and main office area, which had a reception desk, three large offices and a small conference room. The third floor held the largest office belonging to Mr Maer and owner of Global Relocations. It had been cleaned thoroughly the day apart from emptying the rubbish bin, would be bypassed today. Down the corridor from his office was a closet-sized bathroom with a shower designed for a vertically challenged person. It was never used by any staff members, so every day at the end of the shift she would shower and change there. Being a thorough type of person, she would bring a large absorbent cloth and wipe down the tiles and all surfaces so as not to leave any trace of her passing. It was nearing five a.m., when she carried her clothes and toiletry bag to the bathroom in preparation for her shower. Four hours remained before the nine a.m. A.A. meeting, which given the craving she was feeling, seemed too far away. A strong smell of whiskey hung in the air.

"Poor soaked brain" she whispered, "how I damaged you." Still in her cleaning garb, she deposited the toiletry bag on the sink ledge, put a change of clothes on the door hook, and decided to have a cup of tea while reading through the twelve steps. They had been chanted millions of times, but seeing the words on the page, letting her fingers touch each word provided comfort and strength in moments like these. As she passed Mr Maer's office a low humming sound caught her attention. Pressing her ear to the door, she listened for a moment then heard the noise again - a whimper or a groan. The gentle rap on the door did not incite any order to enter, so she knocked again before peering around the door. A man was slumped over his desk, Mr Maer she presumed, a limp hand held an almost empty bottle of whiskey.

"Apologies to brain" she whispered as she approached slowly "you are obviously not that soaked." Clearing her throat induced no reaction on his part. "Mr Maer" she called gently. He did not move, so she repeated his name edging in closer until she stood in silent observation beside him. Ciara felt scared. What if he woke with a jolt and became angry at seeing her there? Maybe he'd be so furious he would fire her on the spot. The thought almost made her bolt for the door, but something made her stay. Was it the smell of whiskey? The words provoked a craving and she momentarily closed her eyes to bury it before laying a trembling hand on his shoulder. The feel of his build through the silk fabric caused her hand to pause longer than necessary before gently shaking his shoulder. The pressure she applied gradually increased in intensity before he came to and raised his head off the desk. Ciara saw a face etched with a strong bone structure, a notable jaw line which only complimented the slightly plump lips, clear sallow skin and day old stubble. His jet black hair was a tangled mess and when his blood shot black eyes met hers for a brief moment Ciara travelled into the depth of their darkness. The sudden stirring in her heart, the kind that she had not felt in over five years, the kind she thought was interred forever, awoke a volcano of fear. She turned away, wanting desperately to leave but being held fast with a sense of duty to help the man from his drunken stupor, as she too, had been helped so many times. His bleary eyes opened and closed heavily in confusion as she observed his reaction.

"whoo 'ryuuu?" He slurred.

"ummm.....Ciara."

"whooo?"

"I...I'm um...Ciara' she paused at his blank expression – Ciara. The cleaner."

"whooo?"

"Don't move, I'll be right back."

"Wha?" Without another word, she left the room returning minutes later with a hot mug of tea and a bucket. She placed the cup on the desk then asked him to sit up, which he managed with some difficulty. The bucket was placed on his lap. Her hand took his to hold it in place. The odor coming from the whiskey bottle was chipping away at her resolve, so she picked it up and placed it on the window sill at the far end of the room. When she turned her attention back to him, his head had drooped right into the bucket. It was then that she noticed another empty whiskey bottle on the floor. "Oh heck", she whispered worriedly. Tapping him lightly on the cheek she said softly "Mr Maer?" His eyes looked past hers for a second before closing again. She held his head in her hands, "you've had too much to drink and you could have alcohol poisoning." Her tone was caring, matter of fact, not judgmental in any way. It came from years of experience having been in that exact same situation a lifetime ago. "You'll need to have your stomach pumped. I'm going to call an ambulance."

"Really?" he slurred. "Bush imefine." He passed out into the bucket again. She repositioned his head more comfortably, took the phone and went to dial emergency services. A voice came across the line even though the phone had not rang.

"'Simon?" the strong male voice enquired "are you there? Dave Mullins here." The accent sounded Australian and authoritative. "Look mate, I need this bloody contract signed asap. Do we have the techies or not?" Ciara felt panicked and wanted to hang up, to run away. "Well!", he barked, "do we?" For some reason Ciara put on her best Mag's impersonation and spoke firmly to the unknown caller.

"This is Mr Maer's secretary. He is currently indisposed at the moment' then lowering her voice as if revealing a secret she said – bad case of food poisoning I'm afraid. He was just taken to hospital."

"Oh yeah?" The tone was less annoyed. "Blimey! That's too bad."

"I'll make sure to have that file off to you this morning Mr Mullins."

"We're settled on the price then?"

"The price?" He let out a sigh of frustration.

"I told him I wanted thirty per cent off the salary they requested. And that's for all five computer technicians." Simon Maer's head lolled slightly forward. Distracted by her concern for him, Ciara just seemed to parrot what Dave Mullins was saying.

"Five computer technicians."

"Yes! All five!!!" He barked. "Why? Is Maer backing down?????" The Auzzie was getting riled up. "I mean I'm paying them to work in Perth, for me!!!" Simon's head rolled hard to the side so she tucked the phone under her chin then placing both hands over each temple bent it slowly forward while repeating what she understood.

"You're paying for them to fly to Perth."

"I most certainly am not!!!!! If O'Conner, Madden, Rourke and the Bartley sisters want the job they'll have to get here under their own steam." The tone brought her full attention back to the caller. He was holding her up, preventing her from calling emergency services. Her eyes darted to the paper that had been under the whiskey bottle. Calculations, names, scribbles, and a big zero which had been written over so many times the paper was pierced through. All the names Mullins just mentioned were listed. She suddenly understood the calculations. It was living expenses, and a percentage to the company. The technicians would barely be able to make ends meet.

"Mr Mullins, those people cannot get by on what you're asking. They will need to be paid what they asked, plus their air fare. It's just a question of basic math. I'm sure you know that yourself. Now I'm going to have to hang up as I need to attend to a much more pressing matter. Thank you." She then called emergency services and waited anxiously for their arrival. While she peered out the window, the whiskey bottle sat directly beside her. The night had been stressful and the bottle offered an escape from the emotional upset of the whole thing. The old enemy temptation vied her on, promising a sip is all she would need to feel good. Before she knew it her hand was around the bottle's neck and making her way to her mouth. Her upper lip had just sunk inside the bottle's rim, her lower lip hung underneath as the liquid swilled forward.

"Ciara" he moaned. Her head shot toward Simon, the bottle far from her lips but still in her hand. "Ciara" he repeated as if in pain. He had called her name, he remembered her name. A woeful glance at the bottle made her realize the ugly mistake she was about to make. Not trusting herself, she ran to the bathroom, emptied the contents down the toilet and flushed twice before dashing back to Simon.

Later that day Ciara managed to attend her A.A. meeting at noon and not nine a.m. as planned. Normally anything out of sync in her day would be catastrophic, but for some reason it didn't disturb her. There was a lightness to her heart that made everything seem brighter and she had no idea why. Maybe it came from being able to help someone for once in her life.

The paramedic has asked her to accompany the patient in the ambulance and although Simon was unconscious and wouldn't need any help other than the medical sort for the next few hours, she went along with the request. While he was being strapped onto the gurney, she managed, despite terribly shaky hands, to leave an unsigned post-it note for Tina asking to send Dave Mullins the techie contract urgently – there was no thirty per cent reduction in salary and flight fare is to be paid. Simon would be out sick for a few days. In the ambulance, the medics checked Simon's vital signs with smooth efficiency. No mention was made of the stench of alcohol emanating from his system. He looked so unwell. His pallor was green and she pitied him for what he was going to experience once the alcohol started leaving his system.

Ten days later, as she was leaving the third floor bathroom, having showered and changed, all cleaning duties done, Simon Maer was stood outside his office, casually leaning against the door. His light blue shirt emphasized the magnificence of his black eyes, while his hair, a mound of tousled black spikes made him look like an angel accidentally fallen to earth.

He was dangerously handsome. She stopped dead in her tracks unsure as to how this was going to go. He seemed to sense her nervousness and immediately held out his hand.

"Hello, Ciara, isn't it?" His gentle smile made her heart fall like it just dropped to her toes. She nodded in muted terror.

"I'm Simon."

"I know" she managed to say in her tiny voice while her cheeks flushed. If the ground had a bottomless pit in it she would have jumped in without hesitation. Soft black eyes were holding hers in a steady gaze.

"I'm really sorry, but I don't remember much about the night I was brought to the hospital."

"A black-out" she answered breathlessly while taking back the hand he was still holding. "It's the same as amnesia....or almost."

"Yes indeed, it must be." The silence grew between them until she found the courage to enquire as to how he was doing.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Oh yes. Thank you. Much better. Never touching another drop...ever." Silence fell between them again and Ciara took the opportunity to flee.

"Well, nice meeting you Mr Maer...."

"Please, it's Simon" he gushed, "people called my father Mr Maer." Then he paused and looked at her in a way that her knees joined her heart down in the toe area.

"I didn't want you to leave until I apologized. I've never gotten myself into such a state before in my life. If I said or did anything to offend you then please forgive me."

"It's fine," she swallowed hard "you were barely conscious." Without another word she stepped past him and hurried quickly down the stairs to the main floor. As she turned the lock in the thick Georgian style door Simon suddenly reappeared startling her so much that she gasped.

"So sorry to frighten you, but I have to ask you something." He was standing much closer now. His light musky cologne wafted her way sending whatever was left of her senses in a tizzy. Her heart pounded madly.

"Okay."

"This may sound strange but on the night you helped me, did you take a call from a Dave Mullins?" Her face turned scarlet.

"Um...can't remember," she gushed then reached for the lock again. He produced the post-it note.

"Tina said you must have written this." Her arms dropped by her side in shame.

"I'm sorry", her voice trembled "if I got anyone into trouble I didn't mean to....I was just trying to make..."

"You don't understand" he interrupted smiling widely "this was the best thing that could have ever happened. I was about to lose the account, but whatever you said to him changed all that. What did you tell him exactly?"

"I'm not sure really...but I'm glad it worked out for everyone." She was out the door before he could say another word. Once she was well out of sight she stopped to catch her breath. Simon Maer made every part of her body tingle. It felt electric being next to him.....and dangerous, very, very dangerous. She could easily let her guard down with someone like him. She would stray from her straight and narrow path, of that she was sure. He was to be avoided at all costs. And so on her way to the A.A. meeting she decided to start her shift earlier than usual to ensure she never saw Simon Maer again. Her plan worked, the following morning she cleaned from midnight to four a.m. and left without seeing anybody. It meant disturbing her routine somewhat but it was better that than going astray altogether. By the fourth day she was beginning to feel comfortable with the new schedule and a sense of happiness had returned. She showered and changed at the end of her shift only to find Simon Maer standing outside his office again. She dropped her bag in fright.

"Ciara," he annunciated as he helped pick up her stuff .

"Hello" she managed to articulate. His eyes held hers.

"I didn't see you all week! What kind of hours do you do here?" Before she could respond he continued "Did Tina ask you to work at night?" Afraid her entire world would become undone Ciara gushed "not at all!!! I need to work these hours. They're perfect for me.....I have to keep..."

"That's okay" he said soothingly "as long as it's your choice."

"It is" she answered, her breathing returning to a more normal pace "It is, very much so." He suddenly produced an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

"A thank you, for saving so much more than my sorry self." The unknown contents of the envelope scared her beyond belief. Whatever was in there, had the potential to mess things up on a nuclear level. It would make her do things that she would thoroughly enjoy, which would eventually lead her astray again. Changing her routine took a lot of readjusting on her part, if something like a gift came her way she'd surely deviate completely from everything she had worked so hard to build.

"Please" she said fidgeting with the string on her white fitted hoody, "I don't need to be thanked." She wanted to run away, but he was blocking access to the stairs, as if he knew she would bolt.

"But this is something special that Tina... and myself want to offer you" he added after a short pause. "She'll flay me alive if you don't take it."

"I'm sorry I can't." Saying no to this man she barely knew was very difficult. Her whole body was perspiring. She took a deep breath trying to sound unperturbed by his presence, his beauty, his scent. "Tina doesn't look the flaying type."

"I know!" he exclaimed happily, "but when things don't go her way around here...'"Then pointing to his neck he displayed a penny sized scar whose skin color was a shade or two lighter than the surrounding skin. She wanted to reach out and touch it.

"Fountain pen fight I lost when the pay checks went through late." She couldn't help but giggle at the thoughts of Tina battling with the tall, lean...gorgeous Simon Maer.

"I don't believe you."

"I know", he chuckled softly "the police didn't either." They both laughed together and Ciara couldn't help but notice her racing heart and erratic breathing.

"So, Ciara, with my life once again in your hands, will you please accept this small thank you?" Her inner voice was screaming no.

"Well, if it's to save your life....I'll accept it. Thank you."

"Now you've just made my day." He looked as if he was expecting her to open it but she pushed it into her bag then dashed past him without another word.

The envelope stayed unopened for seven days until one night while laying in bed, she could ignore it no longer. It had prevented her from sleeping, weighed heavy in her bag and continued to cry loudly to be opened, as it had done from the moment she took it. Unable to resist any longer she ripped open a side of the envelope and extracted a Hallmark thank you card. Inside was a smaller brochure with a plastic card which she did not look at. First she read what was inscribed inside.

To Ciara,

Thanks for saving me from more headaches than one.

Regards

Simon

And Tina

Ciara noticed that Tina's name had been added in almost as an afterthought. Her eyes turned to the compact brochure offering her a day's pampering at the Nordic Spa on the outskirts of the city. It promised to wrap her in mud, dip her in warm water, dash her through cold fountains, oil massages and all other manner of lathering. It sounded wonderful. She would never go. Over the next few weeks Simon was there no matter what hour she worked. The initial shyness she felt decreased with each moment spent with him until she was finally able to accept his invitation to share breakfast. He introduced her to lavender tea and foreign pastries she had not heard of before. Sometimes when they would be sitting beside each other he would reach across and take a stray lock of hair from her face then place it gently behind her ear. That would send shock waves through her. Denying she had fallen for Simon Maer would be ridiculous. Acting on those feelings would be even more ridiculous, but it was taking every ounce of strength not to respond to his touch. At times when she felt she would give in to him, flashes of the past would come back. A needle in her arm, a naked lifeless body beside her, a life wasted, her own almost gone and for what... They were sitting on high wooden stools at the counter finishing off a cup of oolong tea when Simon turned, opened his legs and pulled her chair close so it touched his. With his face no more than two inches from hers, he gazed at her pleadingly, "Ciara, let me spend the day with you today." His sudden closeness and his request threw her off guard. He didn't know he was asking something impossible. She had no desire to reveal anything about her rigid lifestyle, about her past, about how bad she was, how she had nothing to give....how she was just a nobody. Then his arms slipped around her waist, his lips gently touched her cheeks making her lose all sense of time and space. She hauled her mind back to focus on where her train of thought had been heading before his closeness fried her brain. If he wanted to spend time with her it wouldn't be long before he'd be running to the hills to escape. That was it! The solution to the problem was to show him what her life entailed and he'd realize that he was better off running in the opposite direction -with someone else. Feigning boldness, she quipped, "It won't be any fun at all. In fact you'll be bored senseless, so you've been warned."

"Ciara, I'll be with you. That's all I ask." She fought back tears as she picked up their dishes and placed them in the sink. He was going to be so disappointed in her, but she'd have to hurt him a little now, rather than a lot later on. When they arrived in front of the Augustinian church on O'Connell Street, Simon looked at Ciara and enquired curiously if they were going to mass.

"Not mass", she replied "but still a ritual of sorts." A few minutes later they were seated in a small room behind the sacristy, their chairs placed in a circle. About ten men and women of varying ages talked lowly amongst themselves until a priest joined them. He sat into the group and welcomed those present.

"Good morning everyone, I'm Turloch Malone and I'm an alcoholic." The group responded with a resounding "hello Turloch." Ciara was not one to talk very often during these meetings, but today when Turloch asked if anyone would like to share something with the group, the normally silent member stood up. Ciara took a deep breath. She needed to bare her soul in order to have Simon leave her and this was the only way she knew how.

"Hello, my name is Ciara," her tiny voice could be heard clearly in the silence of the room "and I'm an alcoholic and heroin addict." The group responded as they had for Turloch. Her eyes did not move once towards Simon, she dared not think about how he was reacting. "I've been clean and sober for five years now but every day I think of drinking and getting high. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of the wrongs I committed." The group applauded her openness. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she imagined how foolish he must be feeling for liking her.

"I live with this addiction every waking second of my life. It is my struggle, it is who I am. It will never leave me and I cannot be cured. My lifestyle now is not like that of most girls my age. I can never go to a bar, or a club. I've tried but I can't seem to do things in half measures. It's an austere way of living but it permits me to stay clean. I need to live this way. That's all I have to say. Thank you for listening." The priest spoke but she could not hear anything. Her heart pounded madly in her ears. She dared not look at him. When Simon slipped his hand into hers, tears flowed copiously, blurring her vision until the room emptied. She turned toward him dreading to see the one thing that would destroy her –judgment. But she saw nothing other than kindness. He stood up raising her hands to have her stand with him.

"It's our struggle now," he said as his soft lips lowered to hers in a kiss that, for their location, should have been followed by a confession. When Ciara came up for air his embrace descended to her neck sending electric pulses of pleasure to every inch of her body. He stopped suddenly as if needing air himself. His hands held her face, his eyes burning with passion. "I know this wasn't easy."

"You're not afraid to be with me?" He smiled, silently leading her outside. As he held her coat out for her, he waited until her arms slipped into the sleeves held her tight while whispering in her ear, "I'll go with your pace...guide me along. I'll be with you on your terms, as you need me to be.....just as long as I can be with you." Ciara placed her hands on his, mesmerized to have had anyone offer to put her coat on, let alone agree to walk with her on this path. Didn't that only happened in the movies?

"I need to take this with the tiniest of baby steps. I don't know how..." she struggled with the shame "...how to be with someone when I'm not chemically altered so to speak. I want everything but that scares me and I want to run away. I can't tell you what it will be like. But I won't hold you to anything Simon. Leave if you have to...anytime."

"So where to from here m'lady?"

"How do you feel about museums?"

Several weeks later Ciara and Simon had established a routine. They would share breakfast together at work. He would meet her after her A.A. meeting then from there they would go to a place outside of Ciara's customary schedule. As long as she knew ahead of time where she would be going and could prepare for the diversion, there was no anxiety about venturing off together. Simon was always easy-going if she got too scared at the last minute he would simply walk her home and spend the afternoon together. It was Tuesday in August when everything changed. Simon was in London visiting a potential client and Ciara had gone to the Gerst Museum alone. It felt strange to be away from him, but she was so ecstatically happy remembering his parting words that Sunday night, "I'll be miserable until I can kiss you again on Wednesday." The glass-encased Egyptian sarcophagus still held brilliant colors thousands of years after its creation. She was in total awe at the intricate detail in work, the sheer talent of the artists.

"Hey Kiki!" Ciara whipped round startled at the voice which had called her name. Disbelief crossed her face at the sight of Tim Thompson standing before her. The man had walked out on Mags weeks earlier without so much as a word of news since. All the worry and tension he had caused made her surprise turn to anger.

"Tim, where have you been?" She enquired crossly. "Mags has gone loopy since you walked out on her."

"Kiki, you don't have a clue what's going on okay!!!!" Ciara knew when he called her Kiki he was on a con. By the scruffy look of him he had been sleeping rough too.

"What trouble are you in now?" A deep frown appeared on his forehead, but he quickly turned it into a false smile.

"Now why must you always think I'm in trouble?" He wasn't keeping his voice low and people were looking their way.

"Because I know you," she whispered "now tell me why you're here."

"You're a cold hearted bitch. I wouldn't mind but you know what it's like to be down and out."

"I put myself in that situation and I got myself out of it too. Nobody can help you but you. I hope someday you realize that." He quickly changed the subject.

"How's Mags?"

"She's not doing so well. The pregnancy is becoming complicated."

"What's happening?"

"You should call her and find out."

"I can't go back."

"What do you mean you can't go back?"

"I lost the house."

"You lost the house!!!"

"Look, I was sure I had a winning hand. I don't know how I was beaten, but I was. The money is due in a month. If I don't pay it up they'll throw Mags out onto the street with only the clothes on her back."

"They can't do that. Just call the police and they'll annul the debt."

"Kiki, these people don't heed any law. She'll been thrown out in a heartbeat."

"Does Mags know?"

"Are you insane!!?? Of course she doesn't know. Think of what the stress would do to her."

"How much do you owe?" He winced before he admitted, "three hundred thousand euros." Ciara's mouth fell open and it took a moment for her to absorb the shock and subsequently close it.

"That's an insane amount!!" He shrugged nonchalantly, "Duh, as they say."

"And you have to get that within a month?"

"Well actually, we're down to two weeks now."

"Two weeks!!!! Jeez Tim that's tight."

"I have a plan."

"I'm sure you do."

"Hear me out at least ....it's a good one this time....okay?"

"Okay, but I am not getting involved."

"The quickest way to repay these guys is if I can sell your kidney. I already have the whole thing set..."

"Have you gone completely off the tracks Tim Thompson?" Ciara's face was red with anger.

"I'm not doing anything like that. You can't make me. It's your addiction and it's out of control. Mine was too at one point but I got help. You can get help too, you know. Let me give you the number of a meeting where you get a handle..."

"Fuck the meetings" he answered savagely. "Lives are at risk here, my own included so you're going to give me your fuckin kidney or Mags blood and that of the baby will be on your hands. Okay! Is that fuckin clear enough for you now?" Ciara was afraid of Tim's fierceness, just as she was afraid of Mags' fierceness. They both had very strong personalities with a capacity to intimidate her so easily.

"But I need my kidneys," she murmured.

"You'll manage with one."

"I can't..."

"You can't what? Help Mags out is it? Well that's fine repayment for someone whose house you've been living in since she picked you up out of the gutter an'gave you back your life."

"I got myself..."

"I'll get a hundred and fifty for my own kidney and half of my liver and with your kidney it'll fetch another hundred and fifty thousand so the debt will be paid." Desperate to get away from body parts Ciara asked, "will you contact Mags? She's terribly worried about you."

"I'll call her when I have the house secured."

"Mags needs you."

"You're a right fuckin eejit Kiki – you know that? You couldn't fuckin see reality if it bit you on the nose. You go around thinking you're normal when you're a fuckin hermit hiding from the world in the hopes of staying sober. Scrubbin floors and fuckin hanging out with ancient relics is all you do. Fuckin fool y'are." His words seemed to slash her heart open.

"I'm not a fool," She whispered "I see what's real." Still he had sowed a large chunk of doubt in her heart. What if he was right and she wasn't seeing things as they were? Did that mean what she had with Simon wasn't real either? Cracks appeared in her state of happiness.

"Please Ciara – for fuck sake -I'm deadly serious, I've gotten myself mixed up with some really bad people and they'll think nothing of killing Mags. They're like nothing I've seen before - a new breed of greed. Any life, adult, child or unborn have no value, money is all that matters."

Ciara was no stranger to the brutality of the streets. She knew the power of life and death, pushers, loan sharks and underground bosses held over the weak and vulnerable. She knew he was telling the truth.

"I'll think about it and let you know." His scoff held a kind of madness to it.

"You'll let me know????? Listen fuckin Tinkerbell I don't have time for you to let me know!! They're waiting in a car, around the corner at this very minute, and if I don't give the sign they're expecting I'll be dead by nightfall...and so will Mags and the baby." His eyes rolled in frustration as his nose wrinkles with deep contempt. "God you're so thick it's just unreal!!"

"I'm not thick." Her voice was barely a whisper but he heard what she had said "I'm not. ...don't say I'm..."

"Well you are thick if you cannot even conceive of the danger Mags is in now. What are you going to do?...Wait until she ends up dead before you react?"

"No....no..no."

"Jaysus surely you can't refuse to save her life... Can you Ciara?" His eyes bored into hers, the message crystal clear. "It would be a chance to finally make amends. You know even up the score so to speak, make up for...you know...being a waste of space." Her eyes widened in shock. The comment was cruel, intentional, and made to dreg up a part of her past that would forever haunt her. But that personal hell was not something she ever spoke of to anyone.

"I told you before do not go there...ever."

"Okay, so you want to have Mags' death and the baby's death on your hands? Going for a three for three is it? You figured you haven't taken out enough people yet, you need to add more? Yeah??.... well you're going to have that really soon – one dead sister and one dead baby!!"

"No!!!!!" Tears started to roll down her cheeks but instead of evoking understanding it fuelled his tirade.

"What? You're crying? Why the hell are you crying? You're not the one whose life is on the line. The only thing you have to worry about is who you can hide from. Ya Fuckin' freak!!!" He raised his hand in front of Ciara "I've had to sell my fucking wedding ring I'm so desperate." He pushed his hands deep in his pockets. "Stop thinking of yourself for once and do something for Mags? Or are you going to hold onto a kidney you don't even need."

"Who wants my kidney?"

"Some young girl whose parents have put their lifesavings on the line to give her one last hope."

"Shouldn't she be on a list of some kind....to receive the kidney?"

"Yeah....and like most on that list she won't be around when it's finally her turn. So you can make that four people whose deaths you will be responsible for. You'll be up there with some serial killers if you keep this up, ya fuckin looser."

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed then lowered her voice "...on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Once the money is paid. I want you to disappear. Never come back into our lives again."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I don't want that baby traumatized by your selfishness. You have no desire to change. You're happy in your addiction." He barely gave it a second thought.

"Done. Meet me here tomorrow at two."

"Well, hang on," she said "where will all of this happen, who's going to do it?"

"I'll get all the information and let you know." Later that day Tim sent a text saying he would meet her at the museum the next day at two p.m. From there he take her to a car where a little blood test would be done and She would be instructed what to do then.

*

On Wednesday morning just as she was coming out of the bathroom, Simon, who was stood outside his office, walked over to her in a determined stride and without hesitation swept her into his arms, kissing her passionately. She responded immediately returning his hot embrace with the same fever. Petite and featherweight, he wrapped her legs around his lower waist, while his mouth descended from her neck to her breasts. She felt his desire growing hard against her as his hands roamed her body. Breathing hard, he leaned her against the wall and Ciara abandoned herself to his touch as desire consumed her. Expert hands had reached inside her blouse. A single snap released her bra from its hook. He groaned as her mouth strayed to his throat while she fumbled to open his shirt buttons. Suddenly a flash passed before her. The naked body was beside her again. The needle in the same place as it always was. She stopped suddenly.

Simon pulled back and asked breathlessly "what's wrong? Are you okay?" Ciara caressed his face then released herself and stepped away quickly fixing her clothes.

"I cannot do this. I have to leave."

"Okay, no problem. I'll tag along today, if you want."

"That's not possible. Not today."

"Is it because of this?" he asked fixing his shirt inside his pants. "Because I can stop that. Right now." Ciara caressed his face gently kissing his soft gentle lips.

"Don't ever stop kissing me."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I have to get something done. That's all I can say. But I promise that when I get back we'll take up from where we were, right here."

"Ciara I want to go with you."

"I have to do this alone."

"Can I at least ask where you're going?"

"I'm not sure of the details. I'll see you as soon as I get back."

"Are you coming back to me?" The towering handsome man appeared despondent, like a child thinking he's being abandoned.

"I am. And that's a promise."

"You have my mobile, yeah? You can reach me twenty four seven. If anything, anything at all happens call me, I'll be there."

"Thanks Simon." They kissed once more before she left.

The collection was simply entitled 'The Past', a look at Ireland's history throughout the centuries. Everything from oil on canvas to sculptures lent a window into another time and while that captivated her in so many ways it was nothing compared to the black stone sculpture An duibheagán – the abyss. A lone woman stands on the edge of a bottomless pit looking into nothingness.

"Let's go Kiki," Tim's voice pulled her away from her thoughts. Outside the museum, a black Sedan with shaded windows sat parked to the side. She was placed in the back seat where a masked man quickly took her thumb, swabbed it with alcohol then pricked it. Blood oozed to the surface and he collected it by squeezing below the puncture to coax larger drops out then put them in a tiny vial. Once the blood was placed in a kit of sorts he waited for whatever information would be derived from the tests he was performing. Suddenly his brown eyes turned to hers "Universal donor." A notebook type computer was opened. The blood tester clicked rapidly across the keys and surveyed a series of codes on the screen. He seemed to become excited about something he was seeing.

"Let's double check this" he said to no one in particular. After another minute he said stoically "do a tissue test." He then spoke to Tim who was in the front seat, "it's going to happen in Dublin. I'll call you later with the details." Tim nodded then signalled Ciara to get out of the car with him. As they watched the sedan drive off Tim said, "look I'm not a complete fucker okay!" Ciara didn't know how to respond to that statement and decided to say nothing.

"Come with me" he said "I've something to show you."

That night Ciara took the last train to Dublin arriving in Houston station just after ten. As requested she wore a red beret which seemed a ridiculous request given the fact that she looked like a member of the French Resistance. After waiting until all passengers had walked the platform up to the exit Ciara descended the train and saw the big brown haired man waiting near the train's engine. He looked burly and mean. She did not like him and wanted to have a familiar face beside her.

"Where's Tim?" He did not respond only turned around toward the exit. She felt there was no choice but to follow him. Once they got outside a large car with opaque windows pulled up to the curb. He opened the rear passenger side door and signalled for her to get in then quickly sat in beside her. The two large males sitting in the front did not turn back to look at her so all she could see was cropped hair sitting above undulating layers of fat. A whirring noise sounded and a tinted partition rose before her blocking out any notion of where they would be traveling to. For what seemed like an hour or two the car travelled through what felt like heavy traffic until finally emerging in an area where the car could pass more freely. When they stopped the front occupants got out closing both driver and passenger side doors. The place around them was quiet. A short rap sounded on the window beside the big man. He descended the window far enough for a thick hand to pass a black pouch through the opening.

"Thirty minutes" the voice barked behind the glass.

"Grand" the big man replied "Pay Thompson." Ciara observed how he expertly manipulated the kit containing latex gloves, swabs of rubbing alcohol and band-aids. It was when the hypodermic needle was plunged into the small glass vial that something went wrong inside her. She knew anesthesia was necessary to extract a kidney, but this was not a clinical setting, and this big hulk of a man was no doctor. Her heart began to pound loudly all the while a burning sensation formed in the base of her skull and ears.

"What's that?" Her words came out in a gasp. With a slight push he expulsed any air trapped within and gave a final flick on the syringe.

"Happy juice" he said smiling.

"What is that?" Her voice sounded strong like it belonged to someone else. As the cold swab of disinfectant removed any surface bacteria he answered nonchalantly, "we can take out your kidney and part of your liver while you watch if you prefer."

"My..? I thought Tim sold my kidney?"

"The deal was for your kidney and a good chunk of liver too." He turned impatient, "now, I'll ask you once again, do you want me to carve them out right now?" She shook her head vigorously. A big smile crossed his face, "Didn't think so. Now relax baby – enjoy the ride." The big man could not know what he had just done. Sure, one part of her brain told her that he was probably preparing a sedative, but that exact phrase enjoy the ride had been spoken by the man she believed loved her as he injected heroin into her body for the first time. It paid reference to the years of hell that would follow. In the end she had ended that man's life. Not that she recalled anything other than coming to and seeing him dead beside her. The autopsy revealed he had overdosed, but what couldn't be established is if she injected him or if he injected himself. In the end she was acquitted on all charges, but while the judicial system cut her loose from all the legal proceedings, emotionally he held a tight grip on her life even from beyond the grave. It took almost dying in detox to be released from the hold he had on her life. From that point on freedom began anew. She was alive and clean albeit broken forever, but she would survive. However, no one would ever inject shit into her body. Later on Dog Owens would look back on that time in the car as a major life lesson, something an experienced veteran like himself took to heart. You don't survive thirty years in his line of work by being careless. After the incident he swore he would never again leave a client untied, he would never again leave a syringe unattended and he would never underestimate small females again. In essence it was her slightness that made him careless. She was so tiny –no more than a four foot eight stick of thing - he could've snapped her in two in a heartbeat. Still, he was hard pressed to explain how the doll-like arm simply shot out, how his eyes took in the movement of her hand seizing the syringe before plunging it deep into his neck before he even realized what was happening. Blood spattered their clothing as the liquid was being emptied deep into his pierced vein. He grabbed her arm twisting it painfully while his other hand pulled the syringe from his neck then drove it full force into her upper arm snapping it until a large chunk of the hypodermic needle remained lodged in the muscle, the other part fell onto the car floor. The pain contorted her face but she did not scream, she simply continued to struggle free of his grip, waiting for the drug to weaken him. She didn't have to wait long. Seconds later his arms went limp, his body slumped lower in the seat. The final image he would recall before losing consciousness was of her biting her lip almost as if she regretted defending herself then darting imp-like from the car. He had fucked up big time.

## Chapter 7

A panic stricken Ciara made her way out of the dimly lit garage through a side door and into the night. She quickly found herself on Dublin's Parnell Street, which despite being minutes from the heart of the city was quiet but not deserted. If her panicked look and light, blood spattered clothing caused heads to turn, she did not notice. Their gasps and whispered comments did not even register in her focused search for the place Tim had told her to run and hide should anything go wrong. It took nerve wracking hours to find the horrible old run down building, but it was actually a welcome sight for her weary body. Her arm throbbed in pain. The broken needle was sitting deep in the muscle but she had no way of removing it or keeping it clean. After settling herself on some bricks, she took out her cell phone to contact Tim but saw he had already sent a text. _Ciara –WTF r u?_ Her fingers worked over the letters quickly replying–You lied! The chirp of his response echoed in the cavernous building - Go back or they'll kill you. Simon can't protect you. Seeing the last text, her eyes widened in disbelief, he knew about Simon? How did he know about him? She immediately called Tim's cell phone but it went to voice mail. A large rat scurried across her legs causing her to scream in fear. Her message to Tim was a panicked cry to come and pick her up straight away. Another text was shot back. "Stop calling! Ok!" She didn't believe he wouldn't come and kept her phone on until the battery eventually ran out. Time seemed to stand still and every second that passed seemed like an eternity.

*

Simon was frantic with worry when he finally reached the phone booth where Ciara said she'd be. He ran up and down the street but there was no sign of her. He called out hysterically and Kevin, his brothers and Liam could do nothing only pity him. The man was losing his marbles yet Kevin understood exactly how he felt as he had been trying to keep it together since Lucy disappeared. Unknown to Liam, Kevin had taken to the streets reaching out to all his contacts, greasing the paws of some snitches, roughing up a few gang members desperate to find a clue as to where she was. Nobody was talking. Kevin dreaded to think about what could be happening to her, or if she was even still alive. He focused on being able to hold her again in his arms, of telling her how he had never stopped loving her and of making things right between them. Of course Liam, with all his righteous views of marriage, would look down in disdain at these feelings and Ham, Dan and Eamonn would proclaim the news across the whole of County Clare in an instant, so he kept his thoughts to himself. Hope came minutes later in the form of a phone call from his colleague Francis Griffin, Franky, if you didn't want to piss him off. Kevin pressed the answer key and went to greet him but didn't get a chance.

"Hey Kev. Listen to this" he gushed, "we have an old age pensioner who may have information on Ciara."

"May have?" Kevin asked. "Either he does or he doesn't!" His tone was gruff without meaning to be.

"Keep a cool head Kev," he advised "just hear me out -okay." Not wanting Kevin to say another word he continued. "He's an old age pensioner who was out walking his dog. He says he came across what he called a slither of a girl sitting on the footpath, looking half dead. He gave her water and said he'd phone an ambulance, but she just kept mumbling Simon is coming. Minutes later a white van pulled up and a big man got out and carried her to the van. The old man enquired if he was Simon and the fella answered yes then shut over the door. It was only when the man got back home that he identified Ciara from the photo we plastered everywhere and called the police. The old fella identified the Simon as Dog Owens."

"Did he get a plate for the van?"

"Not enough to go on. General description – too vague."

"Fuck it anyway!"

"Thought you might like to know Donny Dunne just got home."

"Seriously?"

"One of our lads tailed him to The Pantry."

"Dunne went straight there?????"

"No, he's not fucking stupid. He went to a pussy hole and a few pubs before taking a convoluted tour around the city. When he thought the coast was clear he headed to his home away from home."

"Franky, thanks. I owe you one." Kevin turned to his brothers and Liam after hanging up. "Right lads, I'm off to a housing estate in Blanchardstown – need to see a man about a dog. I'll meet up with ye later on." Liam immediately scoffed "no fuckin way! Not alone, you're not!" Ham approached them "what's goin' on?"

"This fella" Liam said nodding his head in Kevin's direction "thinks he's going to ride solo into a fuckin El Dorado of drugs run by a psychopath no less." Ham eyed Kevin suspiciously "don't fuckin play games with us. We're not here on an as-you-need basis." Kevin rolled his eyes, "I know that, but you're not cops either and this is not something you can get involved in. Liam, same goes for you – jurisdiction and all that." Liam went to protest but Kevin continued ".....unless you want your career to come to a very abrupt end." A general melee erupted with expletives, shoves, and much shouting. Even Finn barked several times as if to get in his say. That was until Dan suddenly stomped his foot and exclaimed authoritatively, "enough of this shite!!!!" Silence fell over the group of men allowing Dan to continue. "Now, we're all agreed that nobody is gonna listen to Kev, so let's go to wherever the fuck this place is and get it over and done with." Ham helped a very dejected Simon into the van while Liam got behind the wheel. In the back seats Kevin, Eamonn and Dan loaded up six rifles while Finn wagged his tail in excitement.

"Your eegit dog thinks we're going huntin" Dan teased Kevin. Ham called from the front "he's no eegit, he's fuckin spot on!" Once a rural village, Blanchardstown which sits approximately fifteen kilometers from Dublin's city center began to develop housing estates in the late sixties and this continued on until the present day. The rate of development varied according to the country's financial state. On one particular estate, comprising of fifty council owned, and poorly kept houses, sat Walnut Ridge. Nestled in between ten other houses, the non-distinct building was rumored to hold a large percentage of the city's illicit drugs. Kevin had explained to the car's occupants that Donny Dunne, the man who attacked Lucy at the station was one of Hammer Higgins' main men and unofficial resident of the pantry. He would know where Lucy was being held. However, the first problem would be getting past the armed guards who were not always visible to those approaching and who were known to be stoned ninety five per cent of the time. As the Limerick and Clare contingency drove slowly into the estate, Kevin warned them to within an inch of their lives that they were all to remain in the car. He would deal with Dunne and any company he was keeping. With an easy gait he advanced toward The Ranch. The red bleary eyes of the young man smoking a cigarette by the gate to the adjacent house registered danger at the approaching man and had time to reach inside his jacket pocket and place his hand around his Glock but got no further. The taser pulsed massive volts of electricity through his body instantly incapacitating him. Kevin reached down, extracted the gun from his pocket then searched until he found the key to the door which was most likely reinforced. Retracting the wires back into position, he took out his own gun, double checking the chambers as he stepped over the writhing body. Five paces took him to the Pantry door. He turned the key then pushed the door open gently as he backed away from the line of fire. After checking the path was clear he made his way into the lair of the most brutal crime boss Ireland ever produced. He was under no delusion what the consequences of these actions would be, but sitting on the side lines was not his style. The living room and dining room/kitchen area was all clear. The only noise in the house was coming from a bedroom upstairs. Kevin crept up silently feeling this had all been a little too easy. He was having doubts he had caught a lucky break. With just the right amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins, he approached the bedroom door which was ajar but not closed. Peering quickly Kevin caught a glimpse of Donny Dunne getting a blow job......from a guy!! Liam and the remaining Hartnett brothers made their way silently into the house. Ham and Dan went half way up the stairs then stalled. Kevin pumped a fist at them signalling them to fall in behind him. They caught sight of his phone recording something and straight away caught on to the plan. They would get Dunne at his most vulnerable moment. It wasn't long before the groans of pleasure started, Dunne was in mid climax when Kevin burst through, hollering at Dunne to get to his knees. The man was in utter shock, his partner leaped into a corner screaming but quickly shut up when Ham pointed a rifle at his head. Now that Kevin had Dunne in his sight, it was taking every ounce of control not to kill or seriously maim him. With a madness in his eyes, he placed the gun against Dunne's head.

"You will get only one chance to speak, so it had better be the truth." Kevin threw the phone to Dan "send what we just recorded." Dan nodded then began the technical task. "I believe your fellow gang members will appreciate having a gay in their midst." Dunne's eyes widened in fear as Dan fiddled with the phone.

"It's ready" Dan piped up.

"This is called being fucked" Kevin said taking the safety off the gun and pressing it against the quivering man's temple. "What did you do with the girl?"

"Fuck you!!!" Kevin brought the butt of the gun down hard against Dunne's head. "What did you do with the girl?"

"Alright! Alright!!! Fuckin take it easy –okay?????"

"Talk!!!!!!!!!"

"We brought her around the city for a while."

"No fuckin games Dunne."

"We brought her to a place on Parnell Street. They call it the office." Kevin's jaw clenched

"Gimme an address."

"I don't know – we went in the back way – through a garage."

"Then what?"

"We put her in a room. Some fella started taking blood and injecting shit into her. I don't know why though! We just kept her tied down." Kevin looked at Dan, "Press send."

"Noooooooohhhhh" Dunne screamed. "Okay, okay I'll talk. Ahm they needed some organs for a person who's sick...my boss Hammer Higgins. He's only got one kidney and that stopped working so he needs a new one. The first match –a girl- went missing so then we found another one. But then we got the first one back again and ended up with both."

"Where on Parnell Street are they?"

"I haven't a clue. I was in the back with the girl – couldn't see a thing."

"You're fuckin lying." Kevin nodded to Dan who pressed send.

"Too late Dunne." Dunne grasped his head in his hands. He'd be dead within a few days – sodomized to death. That's how they dealt with gays in gangs. Kevin placed the mobile in his pocket.

"Tell your boss I'm coming to rip out his fucking new kidney! He can find me at Harcourt Station. He just has to ask for Hartnett!" Once the obliging partner was bound and gagged, Kevin got his brothers to shove Dunne into the van. He was going to use him to help them find Lucy. However before leaving he couldn't help but look around the house. The street value of the uncut heroin the police found in the converted attic was later valued at over fifteen million Euros. Dunne's partner was arrested and brought into protective custody. While that was going on Liam and the Hartnett brothers had Dunne try and locate 'The Office' along the expansive Parnell street. Dozens of officers were deployed in the search but after a few hours Kevin had Dunne arrested, as he wouldn't, or couldn't, show them where Lucy had been brought.

"He might have remembered eventually." Eamonn offered as Dunne was being placed in the police cruiser.

"Not with the beating I was about to give him."

It was a four a.m. when an exhausted Kevin, Ham, Dan, Eamonn, Liam and Simon sat on a wooden bench in a green space near Parnell Street. Kevin took a long drag on his cigarette and let the smoke burrow deep in his lungs then watched the remnants billow into the night air as he exhaled slowly. The truth be told he couldn't stand the taste of nicotine, but an occasional one like this, for some unfathomable reason triggered a feeling of comfort.

"What's next?" Simon asked dejectedly to nobody in particular. Nobody had an answer, yet nobody was capable of calling it a night. Only Finn had settled in at Kevin's feet for a sleep.

*

On the corner of Dublin's Moore lane and Parnell Street right in front of the popular pub Spilane's, the last of the reveling stragglers had long gone home as Saturday night turned into a foggy Sunday morning. Officer Bryan Murphy was cruising through the area on what was the final furlong of his shift when he pulled up behind the white van stopped at the intersection.He was preoccupied about the bet he had placed on a sure-to-win philly at the track and couldn't get over the fact that the horse lost. Jimmy Hayes had told him it was a sure win, and surely wouldn't have set him up for the loss. They had been doing business for years together. It wasn't Jimmy's style to cross him like that. Still a five hundred euro loss was going to be awfully hard to explain to the wife. He'd be in the dog house again for sure. When he came back to the present he noticed the car had not budged. In the wee hours of Sunday morning Dublin's streets were empty. So what was the hold up? When the circular amber light from his pocket lamp fell across the driver seat, he found an ashen faced young woman sleeping soundly behind the wheel. In the passenger seat was another woman in a similar position.He frowned disapprovingly assuming alcohol was the cause of their unconscious state. Feeling the anger associated with intolerance for this offence he rapped loudly on the window while trying to open the door. It was locked. He continued to try and awaken the inebriated women but without success. Finally he called for an ambulance before smashing the driver's rear side window in order to gain access to them. The lock was elevated manually and after a quick assessment called for an ambulance and back-up.

Kevin had just thrown his cigarette butt on the ground when he got a call from dispatch at Harcourt Station. He was told two women bearing the descriptions of Ciara and Lucy were found on the corner of Parnell Street and Moore Lane. Kevin repeated the street names then hung up without another word. The five men and one large dog arrived like a Viking invasion just as paramedics, placed at both the passenger and driver's doors, began to check for vital signs of the red haired woman and her black haired companion. Kevin had almost reached Lucy when Simon caught sight of Ciara and completely lost whatever resolve he had been clinging to. Officers on the scene diverted their attention from the emergency response team to Simon, pushing him back to the established parameter. Ham and Dan held onto Simon while Kevin, who wasn't allowed to touch Lucy, helped with the identification of the women. He didn't want to admit how they both looked like corpses because he did not want to believe the seriousness of their injuries. A brace was wrapped around each woman's neck just before being lifted from their seats. They each had a blood stains on the side of their lower back which had seeped through into their respective car seats.

"Got a lower back dressing," one crew member shouted.

"Female number two has one also and a frontal dressing" another EMT responded. The black haired woman had barely any pulse and the red haired woman was in better condition but seemed very weak. Once they were placed on their respective stretchers something caused a flurry of frenetic action as one EMT called out, "number one is haemorrhaging. Losing pulse. Pressure dropping." Kevin tried to dash over but was pushed away by two officers. He listened as fire fighters contacted the hospital asking for units of O negative blood to be ready. Lucy disappeared behind the closed doors of the ambulance and a second later it was speeding away with sirens blaring.

"Female two is in crashin",' another paramedic called out. Within seconds the man was pumping hard on Ciara's body simulating a heartbeat while pushing air through her mouth at regular intervals. Kevin watched helplessly as another ambulance doors closed over with only the pumping action of the EMT visible. Officer Murphy, who had found the women, followed the sirens of the speeding ambulance to the Matter Hospital as did Kevin, Liam Simon, Ham, Dan, Eamonn and Finn. Simon was not doing well. He kept mumbling to himself "she's not dead, she's not dead, she's not dead." Ham, being the usually tactful person that he was sympathized in the only way he knew how.

"Jaysus!!!!!!!!" He roared "Pull yourself together man for fuck sake !!!!!!!!!," then gave Simon a clatter across the head for emphasis. Simon, who was not a violent man in any way shape or form, had been pushed to the limit of endurance and did the only thing that came from his heart. He hopped over into the back seat and dove right into Ham, hammering him with blows of his fist. Dan, Eamonn and Finn sprang to Ham's aid and tore Simon off before Ham could inflict any harm on him. Kevin, who was driving roared at them all to fucking cop on or he'd taser them all to kingdom come!!!!Liam who had dozed off in the back told them all to stop fuckin shouting!! This would go down in the books as a most strange night indeed. Officer Murphy although not used to getting closure on most of his cases, asked one of the nurses to let him know how the women were doing, if she could. She took his phone number, quickly stashed it into the pocket of her white uniform then carried on with the task of caring for the mysterious pair.

Lucy Courtney came to uttering a deep guttural scream like one who had finally pushed through the last laborious shove of bringing a child into the world. The agonizing sound rang throughout the recovery room summoning other medical staff to her side. While vital signs and other information were being checked, Lucy cried out "where am I???" Her mind had stayed in the same place when last conscious. She caught the puzzled looks exchanged then panic set in.!!!!' The ear piercing scream and agitation that followed had one nurse preparing a sedative. But the man in the green scrubs held out a hand to stay the injection saying "that might not be necessary." Then moving closer to Lucy paused momentarily observing the level of alertness, the fear in her darting eyes, and decided she could tell him more awake than if they were to put her under again. His hands held both sides of his stethoscope hanging around his neck while producing a wide smile of reassurance.

"Hi, I'm Dave Connors, resident surgeon here at the Matter hospital in Dublin." Lucy looked suspiciously at the tired eyes, stubble covered chin and cocky grin him and asked "The Matter? Are you sure?" Her speech was slightly slurred.

"I am indeed! They're the ones giving me a pay-check so I'd say it's safe to assume we're both in the right hospital." He waited for the confused look to change but it didn't. "And what's your name?" Ignoring his question she caught sight of the bag of blood hooked into the long tube snaking its way into her arm, "what did they do to me?"

"We'll talk about that, but first tell me, do you know your name?"

"Lucy Courtney."

"Where do you live?"

"Limerick." No amnesia apparent.

"Pleased to meet you Lucy." He held her hand, "how do you feel?" She wanted to say "like hell", or "incredibly frightened", but the nurse standing behind him seemed pretty eager to use that syringe she was holding like a loaded gun. Given the foggy feeling clouding her brain, she thought her body had seen enough sedatives for a while so mustering a weak smile she said "Tip...top...when can I go home?"

"Well that won't be for a few days Lucy. You've both been through quite the ordeal." The doctor thought of how to say they had organs removed, well hacked out of them would be more accurate and would have a lengthy healing process ahead of them. "Your kidney has been removed."

"My... kidney.." Then it dawned on her what he had said. "Both?"

"Yes, you and a Miss Ciara..." He frowned trying to recall the surname the thought he had made an error "you do know Ciara right?"

"...yes... I need to see her...we have to talk... important..."

"Well, you can see her soon, but for the moment you need to rest."

"...I ...tried to find her..." With a well-meant patronizing "tsk, tsk _"_ , Dave Connors soothed Lucy into not worrying about a thing in the world, that everything was okay and could wait until she felt better. She didn't believe it for a second.

"No... Ciara...please." Afraid she'd become distressed he spoke calmingly, "she's still in surgery I'm afraid. That's all I can say -patient confidentiality. Now, you need to think about your own health. I'm guessing you had not agreed to the kidney being removed – that it was done without your consent?" Lucy nodded yes wordlessly but the look she gave the nurse revealed there would be no conversing while she was there. The doctor nodded to the nurse who stepped back as he pulled the yellow curtain to enclose himself and Lucy, "do you have any recollection of what happened?"

"No...nothing... S'very vague. What's...done to me ...?"

"Just the kidney was taken – and not very well either. They...it appears to have been removed rather carelessly. But there was no sexual assault. We had to check."

"Assault...Sexual? Oh..." Whether it was from fear or relief the tears started to flow.

"You can live a very long healthy life with just one kidney though there is some internal tissue damage and you will have considerable scarring on your back."

"Who...? I only went...Ciara...and now... body part?"

"Well I think this terrible thing is now a police matter."

"I'd ...like to ...go home." The doctor tapped Lucy's hand, "I'm afraid for the moment you're not going anywhere dear, at least not for a few days yet. We'll have you transferred from Recovery to your own room in a short while." He stood up and pulled back the curtain. "So, if there's anything in the meantime please call Maureen here." Lucy nodded again but thought there was no way in hell she was calling on Maureen for anything.

"Now there's someone very eager to see you. Should I let him in?"

"Who..?"'

"Detective Kevin Hartnett. Says he's a friend of yours and promises he won't interview you." Lucy's eyes widened and she nodded her consent. Both doctor and nurse took their leave. Seconds later Kevin swept in, and before she knew it his lips were gently kissing hers. She couldn't help but feel relief as his strong hands gently cupped her face. When she looked at her his cheeks were wet. Kevin was not an emotional person and it touched Lucy deeply that he had been so worried for her. A croaky "hey" was all she could muster. He kept hold of her hands taking them to his lips kissing them several times.

"Thank God you're alive." She cleared her throat.

"I'm a bad penny Harnett... I just keep coming back."

"Don't ever leave me again. Okay?" Lucy may have been in physical pain, but what he was saying was causing pain of a different sort. She wanted him, body and soul, loved him body and soul, but another woman carried his name and she could not get beyond that.

"Always been here," she said sliding her fingers through his hair. It took him every ounce of strength for Kevin not to take her from the bed and hold her in his arms. But she was full of tubes of all sorts and he was afraid of hurting her.

"Luce, I promise you when you get out of here I'm taking you away. We'll just go somewhere warm and sunny and..."

"Kevin....no!" Lucy interjected weakly, "not...now okay?"

"Too late...it was too late the moment I saw you in the interview room."

"You're not...and..."

"What will it take for you to know that I love you" he implored. "My biggest regret in life is not staying with you four years ago and now that I found you again, all I can think about is holding on to you and never letting go."

"You still have... a wife!" Every word was taking an effort to pronounce but she needed to say these things now and save herself the pain that would come later. "Vows were made and... even if the end seems near some... couples get over the tough times...are brought back from the brink. I don't want ...to be something that happened... while you were going through a rough patch."

"There's no way..."

"Kev, I ... you leaving me... to go back to your wife... is not something I would have the strength for. Okay?"

"But Jackee is very much out of my life!"

"You believe that... but... I..."

"Lucy Courtney I will promise you here and now that I am getting a divorce and when I do I am going to marry you." Lucy gave a weak smile "who's on the meds here – you or me?" A long silence grew between them. Neither one was going to change what they believed. Lucy felt sleepy but said, "Ciara - they say she's in surgery."

"Well they didn't say anything to me, you were both operated on that's all I know."

"I still can't... believe it."

"It's like something you'd hear happening in a third world country...not on your own doorstep."

"Whoever did this...has to be caught." Kevin nodded but remained silent. His lack of response bothered her. She felt herself drift off when a thought jolted her awake."You know... who did this? ...Who are they?... And why us?" Kevin placed her hand to his lips "don't worry Luce...okay? We're looking into that right now. Believe me we'll get these guys. Make no mistake about that."

'You already know.......don't you?"

"Luce it's an on-going investigation..." Tears began to flow down her cheeks.

"I need to know ... need to know they won't come after us again, that we can be safe in our homes, or anywhere."

"But you will be safe, Luce." He said in earnest. "I'll make sure of it. I promise." Her tone turned dark, menacing, "then get them!"

"I will.. There's just this small detail called evidence that's missing that's where we're at now."

"Tell me their names... or are they above the law?"

"Lucy you know I..." Just then a voice said "knock, knock, knock." Kevin recognized the voice and said to Lucy "more Hartnett visitors I'm afraid. You okay with seeing them?" Lucy wasn't but didn't say as much, she just nodded then Kevin got up and opened the curtain enough to let them see her. The Hartnett siblings and Liam Cunningham all stood at the foot of the bed smiling widely.

"Well, well well," Ham piped up "who de we have here? If it isn't Miss Double Trouble herself."

"Dan!" she exclaimed weekly, her cheeks flushing bright red at having the core Hartnett clan and Liam in her room. "It's so good... to see you all. What brings you........ to this neck of the woods?" Before Kevin had a chance to warn them discreetly not to breathe a word of their implication in finding Lucy, Dan had already announced "sure we were runnin 'round the country lookin for ya!!" Her eyes shot to Kevin's for a moment. What she found was a sort of pleading in them which made her turn back to her guests. Dan piped up by saying "the Hartnett band at your service once again." Eamonn quickly interjected "yeah! But there's a team member who wasn't allowed in here by the way and he played a vital role too. His name is Finn and you'd want to be fierce careful when you meet him first. He doesn't take to everyone – you know." Kevin closed his eyes in dismay as Lucy told Eamonn to thank Finn for her.

"It's my shaggin dog!!!!" Kevin exclaimed. Eamonn was indignant at this reproach.

"Makes no difference! He still helped out!" Dan came to Eamonn's defense and before long a full on Hartnett argument ensued. The ruckus was deafening. Lucy was beginning to feel overwhelmed and wanted everyone to leave. But gratitude and politeness prevented her from saying anything. Liam, who wouldn't dare get involved in a Hartnett debacle twice in the same day, took the opportunity to sit by Lucy's bedside, "Hope you'll feel better soon."

"Liam.....that's very thoughtful of you. Thanks so much." A very cross looking nurse Maureen suddenly appeared beside the brothers and was obviously appalled at the melee.

"Better go" Liam said as the matron promptly had the place emptied while warning them collectively that she'd call security if they didn't leave quietly. Kevin managed to dash over and give Lucy a lingering kiss goodbye before filing out of the room. Liam who was last in line could not hide his shock at this open display of affection and pushed Kevin harshly out of the room. The last words Lucy heard was Kevin asking "hey!!!!! What the fuck's your problem?" She just hoped he wasn't addressing Maureen.

*

From his recovery bed in the manor, Hammer Higgins took his first anti-rejection medication under the watchful eye of his personal nurse assigned to him by the Manor. After checking his vital signs once more, she left the room. The gang's new second in command, was the young brute-like giant, John whose eyes seemed to shine with a gleam of insanity, a sign of being on the product again. Eugene Morris had just been patted down by John and did not want to experience those spade-like hands on him ever again. Morris just wanted to be rid of the Higgins' plague, and it couldn't come fast enough. The surgery had been a success in that Higgins got the new kidney, liver and didn't die on the table. Morris' relief in seeing an end to their business agreement was evident.

"So glad to see you're coming along nicely Mr Higgins." The crime boss only nodded weakly before closing his eyes. Morris continued "let me offer the continued care of my medical staff after your discharge here. Our way of saying sorry for the delay." When no response came Morris joined both hands, smiled brightly and said "I think we can say this concludes our business. So, have a good day gentlemen." Morris turned away deciding to say nothing about the fact that Higgins got two-donors for the price of one - a rip-off really.

"Mr Morris," the brute said in his signature baritone voice, "our business is far from over. You had better sit down." Eugene recognized it was not a request and smiled benevolently then sat in the chair directly beside the veiled window. Nervously, his hands reached out delicately touching the elaborate design on the antique card-playing table he had found in a barn sixty kilometers south of Paris. Lovingly restored, and perfectly suited for the room, he still found it a pleasure to behold. The ox sat opposite Morris extracted a gun from his inner breast pocket, placed it on the table right in front of him, the threat being declared loud and proud. Eugene's eyebrows rose high in horror, the only indication of his inner balking at the total disrespect for history and art. He declined to openly criticize. Somehow he could not see the ox taking criticism very well, constructive or otherwise. Feigning curiosity he asked "was there something new you wished to discuss?"

"An unexpected problem has come about for Mr Higgins which, as you can see is most upsetting for him." Eugene's eyes glanced toward the bedridden and very stoic gang boss – being upset was the last thing that was apparent. If anything, a defibrillator would seem more appropriate to rouse any reaction from his current state. "Now" the ox continued "the person responsible for this aahhm....what's the correct word..." As he searched for the appropriate term, Morris interjected helpfully "problem?" The ox s shook his head while biting his lower lip. Thick fingers moved to the gun and he caressed it gently. In a flash he had the weapon cocked and aimed directly at Morris' face. "The word I was looking for" he said through gritted "was not problem but a nuclear device up the fucking arse... and you are to blame." Morris, who had raised his hands instinctively, strained his head away from the gun placed centimeters from his face. He gestured a palm toward the ox trying his best to control the tremor in his voice, "keep a cool head here.. yeah?" For some unfathomable reason Morris' eyes kept darting toward Higgins hoping he would intervene and haul off his monkey, but Higgins might as well have been dead. Morris continued "look you can put the gun away – okay?. I'm not armed as well you know and I'm sure we can clear up whatever the...ahm... nuclear problem may be." He waited, his body rigid from fear, hoping to rationalize with the one-brain-celled ape. "Surely a professional businessman such as yourself does not need a gun to discuss affairs." The flattery paid off because the gun was replaced on the table, pushing it forward slightly. Despite the dangerous situation Morris couldn't help gasping. The ox didn't take any notice.

"One of our men was helping to track your fuckin organ girl. The one Mr Higgins paid generously for and almost died waiting to get. The cops followed our man into a particular storage unit of ours and in doing so we suffered severe losses." Morris knew exactly what the ox was referring to; the police had raided one of Higgin's 'heroin storage rooms' in Blanchardstown and made one of the biggest drug finds in the history of the State. That they wanted him to take responsibility for the seizure was insanity.

"Well I'm most sorry to hear that valuables were taken. But I do believe I advised Mr Higgins how implicating his men would pose quite the risk owing to his associates being known to police."

"Mr Higgins couldn't give a flying fuck what you advised. You owe him eight point five million Euros and change." Eugene Morris laughed in disbelief. "I think there has been some sort of mistake here. The police followed your man to your house and removed your goods. I am happy to say I have no involvement in this affair whatsoever." The ox slammed his fist on the table.

"Mr Higgins disagrees. You run a horse's arse of a business down here, Morris. If our men had not helped in the search Mr Higgins would be dead waiting for the fuckin kidney to show up."

"But he didn't die!!!! In fact you got two donors for the price of one and I know both women's organs were removed, so what happened to the spare one?"

"That's none of your business."

"Well as you know, it wasn't part of the deal, but I'm a generous man, so consider it a parting gift from all of us here at The Manor."

"I have a parting gift too" The ox stood then smashed the barrel of the gun into the table. Morris leapt with shock at the destruction, his eyes shooting to the brute in horror, but all he saw was the madness of the surging drugs in his bloodstream.

"No more fuckin around" ox yelled. "Now here's the deal. Mr Higgins wants repayment for everything that was taken from the storage room. If you do not cough up the money each chamber of this gun will be emptied into your fucking head." Feeling the blood drain from his face Morris swallowed hard before speaking.

"And how do you think I could possibly get my hands on that kind of money? You know we're not in the same kind of business." The Ox gave a broad toothy grin as his head gave a short nod towards his left shoulder, "this place will cover it!"

*

At three a.m. Kevin sat at his desk, the mound of paperwork piled in organized bundles was the only element of order amongst the general disarray in the diminutive cubicle. A manila folder lay open before him. His hands cupped a steaming mug of hot coffee, his disheveled look testimony to the lack of sleep over the past thirty six hours. After The Pantry raid, he was waiting for Donny Dunne's boss or whoever was in command now, to contact him. He was surprised it hadn't happened already. Maybe he'd get a phone call. Maybe they'd bomb his car, or off him on the street in a drive-by style. Whatever they tried, he'd prepared because backing down was not an option. His eyes fell to the folder, the story of Donny Dunne. His lengthy criminal record showed he was nothing if not loyal to Higgins - Ireland's shining example of a modern day Godfather. Dunne's story wasn't different from many of the other homeless kids who ended up as criminals. His alcoholic mother disowned him and he became a street kid at age eight. He slept in a kennel on the outskirts of the city and lived off what he made pan-handling before being picked up by Higgins' men for pick-pocketing on their turf. He was quickly inducted into their gang. His first run-in with the law had been at the tender age of eleven and continued on a regular basis from there. He did five years for assault when he was twenty two years old and another three when he was twenty-nine. After that he seemed to have escalated in the ranks of the criminal organization's hierarchy. Kevin wondered how Dunne managed to keep his sexual preferences from Higgins. Given the gang's intolerance to that lifestyle, he wouldn't be allowed to live if they knew. Kevin closed the thick file and pushed it away. He rubbed his stinging eyes hard and yawned loudly. Sleep was claiming him. He was woken to the sound of his mobile phone ringing far off in the distance. Instinctively he checked his watch then swore under his breath when he realized he had slept for two hours.

"Hartnett." The deep baritone voice spoke without any of the usual etiquette. "My employer is advising you, strongly, to cease your investigation." Hartnett checked the caller identity and saw who it was. Any other mobile would have displayed unknown caller but this was a police phone and John Keane aka the Ox had come a calling. Deciding to play coy Kevin said "What investigation would that be? We here, in law enforcement, have more than one case at a time."

"The Harvest case." The local newspapers had dubbed the organ theft the Harvest Case.

"Who would your employer be now?"

"You know fucking too well who it is. Drop the case or you'll be sorry!"

"I'm already sorry...sorry for the two women lying in hospital, so your boss could continue ordering hits on people for another few decades."

"We left them alive.....consider that a gift. Now drop the investigation and nobody will get hurt."

"Too late."

"No, it will be too late if we come after them again."

"Fuck you" he growled but the sound of the dial tone told him the call had ended. He locked the file away in his drawer then showered and changed before making his way to the hospital.

*

Kevin entered the hospital room where she had been transferred from post-op the day before only to find the bed empty. All that was left was a bare mattress. Her personal items had been removed and a clean pile of sheets, pillows and blankets were folded on the bed waiting to be made up for the next patient. The place carried the distinct odor of having been sanitized, removing traces of her presence there. Fearing the worst, he dashed to the nurse's station and enquired after her. The usual bullshit questions about next of kin were expounded until Kevin lost his cool and shouted that she had no effin family only him! Finally the head nurse explained that Lucy discharged herself earlier that morning despite very strong recommendations to the contrary.

"Discharged?" Kevin asked confused. "Surely she was not fit enough to be discharged. I mean she only had surgery yesterday to fix the mess those fuckers made!" The head nurse explained that Lucy should have remained hospitalized for another few days, but that they could not forcibly confine her. She had left before five a.m. and nobody knew where she was headed. The only thing they confirmed was that she tried to see Ciara before leaving but Simon wouldn't allow any disturbance and so she left. His questions flowed as he tried to keep calm, "I mean did she even have clothes? What was she wearing when she left, a hospital gown?"

"The clothes she arrived in had been cut from her body" the nurse explained "only her shoes were returned to her bedside locker." A very despondent Kevin looked at the hospital staff and asked "why didn't anybody call me? I left my number as the only contact she had. Did you not have that on her file? Did you not bother to check?" None of them could answer Kevin but one nurse called the aging security guard who had intercepted Lucy at the hospital entrance. He made his way up to the nurse's station at the pace of a man whose advanced arthritis was winning the battle waging in his bones. He was quite out of breath when he arrived and it took him a moment to explain, somewhat apologetically, that he had stopped Lucy and called up to the head nurse in charge to make sure she was not escaping. After securing confirmation that she had discharged herself, he let her off. Kevin swore under his breath when he learned she did not take a taxi, and nobody came to pick her up. The guard said she just waddled away as if in pain towards the exit of the hospital grounds. Kevin snatched a blanket from her now empty room then called his colleague Franky Griffin and relayed the news. He asked that the parking lot at Forensics be checked in case she might try and pick up her car there. He then left the hospital parking lot and began scouring the streets for any sighting of Lucy. After covering city block by city block with no success he got a call from Franky to say he found her. With his sirens blaring Kevin sped across to the lab building. His colleague looked relieved to see him arrive and without preamble pressed Lucy's car keys into his hand before taking his leave. No words were exchanged but Kevin could almost hear Franky say, better you than me. Well he couldn't expect anything more from the emotionally stunted man. The window on the silver Opal was still out from having been punched through on the night of the attack and now sported a plastic covering haphazardly taped to the side. It provided little shelter from the crisp morning air. Lucy sat shivering in the driver's seat with nothing only two hospital gowns to cover her thin body. Kevin shook his head in dismay. She was far from well. Holding the blanket under his arm, he opened the driver side door and put on a smile he didn't feel.

"Gowns went out of fashion years ago Miss Courtney." He removed his jacket which was warm with his own body heat, bent down to be at her level, and placed it around her before covering her up with the hospital blanket. "You of all people should know that!" She seemed to welcome the warmth and pulled the covering up to her chin. Through the shivers she managed to articulate, "W...well out of f...fashion they may be b...but I got t..two offers of lifts and I wasn't even h..hitch-hhhiking!"

"I think that's because they were hoping said gown was open in the back."

"I d...d...doubled up to avoid having people see s...ssomething that would t...traumatize them." Kevin felt dismay at the sight of her shivering waif-like on a cold day like today.

"I would have picked you up Lucy" he said softly "brought you anywhere... if you had just asked."

"I'm f...f...fine Kevin, thanks anyway. I'm just going to h...head back to Limerick n...now." He knew it was best not to contradict her by telling her to go back to the hospital. "Okay. Well look. I'll drive you home right now if you want– but it's going to be in my car."

"I'm taking my own car." He pointed momentarily to the ersatz window.

"It's draughty for one, you don't have the strength to drive three hours –that's two. And three, you don't have your license. I'm assuming your handbag is still in the possession of whoever did this to you." She winced at the reference to the kidney theft. Things just didn't fit together anymore. Nothing seemed right, nothing felt happy, as if the sun had left her world and only darkness remained. Everybody was now a potential thief – someone who could harm her. It was like her sense of security vanished exposing a world filled with bad people. Organ harvesting, which before, belonged in other countries far away, was now her reality and she wasn't sure she wanted to be part of this world anymore. Lucy was scared, scared of not pulling through this.

"I just need to be back in Limerick... amongst ...my own things....not here. I don't want to be here anymore."

"Then let's get you back. I'll have your car window repaired and will drive it back to you. Is that something you'd be okay with?" She looked at him for a long moment then nodded her agreement. He pressed his lips together grimly then reached out to offer help. Her hands joined his and as he gently pulled her up out of the seat, he held her arms to offer more support.The once strong arms felt terribly frail and he couldn't help feeling like he wanted to execute the sons of bitches who had harmed her in this way. The hospital is where he should be bringing her, but Lucy would feel betrayed, so he nixed that idea there and then. Once she was seated in his car, he put the heat on high, and left her momentarily to sort out the repairs on the broken window. After quickly arranging for a friend and mechanic to pick up the keys at the Lab's reception desk, he grabbed two coffees then returned to Lucy. He passed her both cups when she lowered the window then jogged across to the driver's seat. She looked at him tenderly as she passed a coffee to him.

"You look awfully tired Hartnett. Maybe you shouldn't be driving." He took the proffered coffee.

"Fresh as a daisy" he lied then smiled quickly, and drove off into the morning traffic. Lucy eyed him cautiously not believing him for a second.

*

Eugene Morris was a desperate man. He was about to lose the only thing in the world he truly treasured – the Manor. A catastrophe if ever there was one! He paced across the maple floor tiles of his downtown Dublin condo, a triple whiskey gripped tightly in his hand. The idea of giving even a penny over to that thug was just inconceivable. Besides the investments, he worked so diligently to bring an experience like no other to those needing healing, needing renewal, needing life and a thug, the likes of Hammer Higgins, thought he could steal all that away??

He snatched his mobile phone from the marble bar counter and dialled the number of someone who could at least give him a progress report.

"How long before things start to show?" The young doctor scoffed "relax! It's already started."

"It's not going fast enough." Morris went on to explain what Higgins was asking. "I need to know how you can accelerate things."

"How quickly do you want it to go?"

"Very quickly." After a long sigh he reluctantly agreed "right, I'll work on something and get back to you."

Kevin turned the key in the lock pushing open the door with a concerned glance at a weak looking Lucy. The journey hadn't been easy on her, although she had not uttered a word of complaint, not even when he had to brake hard to avoid an accident and then accelerate out of the way. The result of her being body slammed back in the seat meant she was in tremendous pain but she did her damnedest to hide it. Probably because she thought he'd take her back to hospital. Still her silence was too out of character and it scared him because he couldn't gage if she was tired, in agony or depressed – maybe it was all three. An hour into their journey he attempted to broach the subject of her kidney being removed. He spoke of how he sense of violation must be unbearable but no reply was forthcoming. All offers to take her to counselling were waved away with a flippant wrist gesture accompanied with a short burst of air through the lips – almost like a laugh. He had no idea what was going through her mind. Was this something she could handle, or would it gnaw at her until one day she'd break down? His only consolation was the fact that his transfer to the Limerick station had come through and that he could be there to look after her, even if he had not yet mentioned the move. Technically he was still affiliated with Dublin for another month but for now was on two weeks 'vacation' so he could look after Lucy. In terms of the investigation he had yet to find anything concrete other than Donny Dunne's word. The car both women were found in had been stolen twenty four hours earlier and was spotless -no prints at all. It's like as if whoever put Lucy and Ciara in there wore biohazard suits. Lucy had given a statement from the hospital bed and was unable to provide any more details simply because she couldn't remember anything. Ciara's statement was taken after she recovered enough to communicate coherently. She offered a little more in that she described Dunne and Dog Owens but that was all. She hadn't spoken to anyone all the time she had been holed up waiting for Tim. An A.P.B was put out for Dog Owens but Kevin didn't hold out much hope of tracking him down. He'd been untraceable for the past twenty years.

"I can fix us up something to eat" Kevin offered while taking his jacket from her shoulders. "Or is there something particular I can get you?" He put up the temperature on the thermostat as the house had a cold, unlived in feeling. Lucy smiled, briefly, "thanks Kevin.... for bringing me home. Maybe I'll eat something later, but you go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I'll just go lie down now." She disappeared behind the door of her room leaving Kevin more worried than ever. He fixed himself a couple of sandwiches with a cold beer then lay on the couch to rest after the three hour drive and before he knew it, was fast asleep.

*

Three days later Kevin returned to the station in Dublin under the guise of finishing off some tasks, in reality he was meeting with Franky Griffin, who had called him concerning new information on the investigation. When Lucy had heard he would be in Dublin she asked for a lift to visit Ciara in hospital. Kevin gladly accepted knowing he wasn't leaving her alone in Limerick all day. The journey up was what Kevin could only describe as 'fluffy'. Everything was bright, cheery and completely false. Nobody was talking about the elephant in the car and it remained that way until he dropped her off at the hospital entrance.

"I'll pick you up in two hours Luce – okay?"

"Sounds great Kev, thanks."

"If you need me for anything at all, call me. Promise?"

"I promise, I will and no fingers, toes or eyes crossed." He smiled then watched until she disappeared behind the glass doors before driving off to meet Franky.

Lucy had to pass the Sentinel Simon who was still on body guard duty. She had to assure him she would not stay too long, or disturb, or tire Ciara, or remind her of anything too upsetting. Only once everything had been agreed upon did he leave her alone with Ciara. Lucy entered the private room, which would have passed for a florist shop, with the quantity of white rose bouquets and stuffed animals adorning every ledge, shelf and table. She observed Mags' younger sister who had been near death so many times from self-destruction, and now found her frail, but positively glowing. Something radical had changed for Ciara.

"Nice flowers" Lucy commented as she took two oversized bouquets from the mobile tray over the bed and tucked them onto the window sill amongst several others. "White roses were originally a sign of true love."

"They were?" Ciara's eyes widened in surprise at each bouquet consisting solely of white roses.

"Well, I think Simon is sending you a very clear message. In fact I'm sure you can see how he is very much in love with you." Ciara seemed to be floating on cloud nine.

"I've never felt this way before. He's everything I could have dreamed of and more. He's big and strong but kind and gentle and protective...and I...I'm head over heels about him." Lucy took Ciara's hand.

"I'm so happy for you......so happy you found this man, but more than anything, so happy you're alive."

"I'm really sorry Luce...I had no idea you had come looking for me and ...but it didn't do any good." Biting back tears Lucy shook her head trying to be strong.

"How did you know I had been taken?"

"The old man by the roadside, he said it was on the evening news the night before that you were missing and that we knew each other. He said _she went looking for you_. Anyway that's when I called the number they gave me."

"That doesn't matter now. Kevin...the police are on the case and we will be able to put this behind us once those butchers are caught!! You won't have to be afraid."

"I'm not Lucy...before I would have been terrified of going out the door after something like this, but I don't feel that way anymore. I have Simon. I'm...I'm just not afraid anymore." Lucy smiled to hide the pain. Not afraid? How could that be? Didn't Ciara experience exactly the same horrific thing? Where was the pain of the violation? Or was Simon the ultimate morphine dose constantly numbing the effect of the carnage? Mags' sister smiled happily but did not talk. She absentmindedly straightened the creases in her bedspread. Lucy, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown thought she'd find in Ciara someone whom she could share her experience with, even confide in. God knows confiding anything wasn't easy for Lucy, but for once she yearned to reveal the constant pain she was in since opening her eyes in the hospital. It was not only the physical pain, but the emotional pain which was preventing her from functioning, from feeling normal again. She wanted desperately to ask Ciara if she was having nightmares, if she was wired to the hilt without the aid of coffee or any other stimulant or if she felt someone was always walking behind her, just ready to snatch her off the road. Didn't her brain feel fried from all the panic attacks burning it up? Lucy realized they were all just wasted questions. There was just nowhere to unload this shit in her brain...or whatever the fuck it was.

"Well...ahm...that's...ahm..that's very strong of you Ciara." The young woman smiled dreamily and Lucy continued "I have something to tell you." Lucy could not put it off any longer. "There are... well there are some things that happened while you were away." Ciara interrupted, "before you start, I just need to tell you about this whole thing. I need you to know what I know." After a long pause Lucy replied with a confused look, "okay, okay...sure...yeah go ahead."

"I'd have to start by saying, it was my mother's madness, if I am to be truly honest."

"Your mother?" Lucy asked even more confused.

"Yes I know she's dead, but you didn't really know her. Not behind closed doors so to speak. She should never have had kids, or we should have been removed from her care at the very least. Daddy was no better. He spent every waking minute at work or the clubhouse, anything not to come home to the shrew. He pretended the beatings never happened. The house was mother's pride and joy. Nothing could be even an inch out of place. Perfection ruled. Mags and I were always wrong in our appearance. She made us wear what she wanted until...well until I ran away. Even when Daddy lost his job and we couldn't make the payments on the house, Daddy suggested they sell it and take something in a housing estate. But Mammy wouldn't hear of it. In fact she looked like she had gone insane...more than usual. She didn't want to work either so Daddy took two jobs to make ends meet. He managed a pub by day and cleaned offices at night. Mags stayed strong through it all. It was especially hard after Daddy got Alzheimer's and had to be placed. But then mother died. I was so happy. I didn't attend the funeral officially, but I was there in the background. When everyone was gone I spat on her tombstone and left. I felt everything would become normal after her death. The house became Mags legally and that's when, what I call Hell Part Two, started. Mags became just so weird. Instead of emptying it of every single ugly item that we were never allowed to touch, Mags kept it as a mausoleum to Mother. The pride of calling it her home was apparently like a religious experience. Then Mags married Tim, a good guy with a bad habit. He had managed to keep his gambling controlled for years. Sure it cost them holidays and luxuries but Mags managed to handle it. All of this was going on when I was out of my mind on drugs and alcohol, but when I did get clean I had nowhere else to go, so I put a lock on my room just to be able to call it my own space." Ciara chuckled lightly "I deliberately threw away everything associated with my childhood. Then when Mags got pregnant Tim went off the tracks, gambled to the point where he lost the house. They had joint ownership since they first married when Mags had Tim's name added to everything she owned. Anyway he knew Mags would go ballistic when he told her he owed thousands of Euros on the street. The interest alone would kill them. He left, telling her he'd some business to sort out and was gone for months. I think Tim tried to get out of the hole he dug for himself, but couldn't. Then one day he met me in the Gerst Museum. He said he had found a way out. He was to sell his kidney and mine to cover the debt. The man he owed the money to said it was a new way to pay off debt these days. He had a contact who would set up the whole thing. I could not fight his fierceness and I had nowhere else to live, so I agreed to sell my kidney. The day before this was to happen Tim arranged to meet me near Arthur's Quay. My blood was tested in the back of someone's car. After that Tim drove me up to Dublin. At one point we stopped along the road – in some derelict place. He told me that if anything went wrong to wait there for him and showed me a room where I was not to move from until he got me - then we returned to Limerick. The following day he put me on the train to Dublin. I had hid all my fears of the operation, even when I was picked up in a stranger's car I didn't panic. Then some big man started to prepare liquid in a needle and something went off in my brain. Since being clean I cannot bear the sight of a needle, let alone feel the pinch of one piercing my skin. I lashed out and how, I don't know, but I stabbed him really hard in the neck injecting the liquid into him. I ran for my life. I don't know how long I ran but it took a whole night of running until I found the building. I waited and waited but Tim didn't show up. Days passed and I finally found the courage to leave my hiding place and rang Simon. I told him where to find me. That's when the old man found me and told me what had happened to you. I had to stop them hurting you so I called the number they had given me and they picked me up. I was very ill it seems but the big man handed me over to a doctor who prepped me anyway. Apparently you were already in the process of having your kidney removed when I was brought in. They took a kidney and some of my liver. After the operation they left us on the corner of Parnell Street on a Sunday morning."

Ciara frowned. "All that because Tim gambled away the house. Mags getting pregnant is what set him off really because Tim is sterile. Mags got pregnant from Bernard Downe and that sent Tim over the edge." Lucy wiped her eyes, "there's more news, about Mags." Ciara smiled before tears welled up in her eyes. "I know Mags died. I know she tried to find me and I know I have a niece. Eloise"

"Yes, a beautiful girl", Lucy said smiling for the first time in days as memories which seemed so far away flooded back. "She was very ill to begin with."

"Bernard visited me."

"The father?" Lucy exclaimed

"Yes. He's a lovely man and will be a great Dad I'm sure."

"You'll be able to see Eloise often then."

"No!" Her answer was one of petulance, childlike even. "I am leaving Ireland as soon as possible."

"Leaving?"

"Simon and I are taking an extended vacation in Australia. I'm not ready to have anything to do with Eloise, bad and all as that sounds. But I've had my kidney and part of my liver removed to pay off a gambling debt that I did not make. I'm done thinking of others – my good will has been squeezed dry to the point of no return. And Lucy, no offense, but I never want to see you again because you will always remind me of this."

## Chapter 8

Kevin checked the time, he had been going over files to be transferred to another detective, most likely Franky, for the past hour, but still had an hour left before picking Lucy up. He decided to see his colleague to hand over some case notes. Upon seeing him, the fifty year old detective lifted the handle off the receiver he had been cradling and signalled Kevin to listen. Just before he put the caller on speaker, he whispered to Kevin, "Donny Dunne was beaten badly. Happened earlier today."

"I thought he was in protective custody" Kevin replied. Franky mouthed me too then selected the speaker button and the voice of the man on the other end continued.

"Someone accidentally let him in the cafeteria alone with some other men and he got a work out."

"Who left him alone - a prison guard?" Franky enquired.

"Yeah," the sardonic tone could not be missed, "that's being investigated. They have a few officers over there now talking to prison staff and another guard at Gervis Street hospital where Dunne is being treated." Franky scribbled hurriedly.

"All right Jim, thanks for the info. Let me know if there's any change." He looked at Kevin, "let's go pay Dunne a visit, see if he's willing to sing about who set this up."

*

She left the hospital room feeling numb from what Ciara had just said. Lucy was nothing more than a bad memory to a person she had risked everything to help. The urge to run away almost had her heading for the door and off to some unknown place, any place to escape the panic the flashbacks caused. But Kevin was coming to pick her up in about an hour and she wouldn't do anything to cause him more trouble. He had been exceptionally kind and attentive when all she had done was kept him in the dark. Somehow Lucy couldn't help but think life with Jackie must have been an awful lot better than this.

*

In another hospital in the same city, a policeman guarding the prisoner's room double checked Kevin's credentials then let him in. Dunne was pretty mashed up but he was conscious and grunted at seeing Kevin. Cutting straight to the chase Kevin asked him why he got the shit kicked out of him. Dunne didn't want to talk but Kevin promised he'd get him moved to a women's prison for his safety. Dunne was reluctant, but confirmed that Hammer Higgins had several of the prison guards on the payroll and arranged to have him beaten up.

"S'not the fact that I'm gay, I can tell you that straight away. If it were I'd have a tree trunk up me arse an' I'd be six feet under." Kevin said nothing and the prisoner continued, "you never sent the fucking video on your phone. I'd know if you did."

"It's still there Dunne, so don't fuck around."

"I got beaten as a warning not to snitch or worse would follow." He also confirmed that Higgins was the recipient of the harvested organs but he couldn't say if it was Lucy or Ciara's organs that were transplanted. Kevin asked about the big guy that helped him kidnap the woman from Busaras. Dunne seemed surprised at the question and hesitated unsure as to the information he should divulge.

"Spill it wouldja!" Kevin sighed wearily, "I have airtight proof."

"Ya have in your fuck proof."

"Last call." He let the silence hang between them before finally getting up to leave. "Deal's off - back to the men's prison it is." Kevin got up to leave.

"Hey, hey" Dunne called, "hang on, hang on..."he swallowed hard. "What guarantee do I have that I'll be protected." The guy was blind, Kevin thought to himself, if he couldn't see that being protected from the likes of Higgins was impossible. They weren't the forgiving kind. Someone in the gang would get him eventually, no matter how long the wait and sending him to a women's prison was just prolonging the death sentence. Still, it was all Kevin could offer, "You're getting transferred to a women's prison – consider that keeping you out of trouble." Dunne shook his head in acceptance then began to describe how Dog Owens and himself crossed paths.

"I'd never seen him before –I just got the order to meet him and search for one of the girls. We met up near Store Street and I went into Busaras and met the redhead. Bitch put up some fuckin fight all right." It took all of Kevin's resolve not to contribute to Dunne's mashed face when he spoke of Lucy, but he continued his line of questioning with well controlled restraint, "who was Dog working for?"

"No idea. The boss commands – I don't ask questions."

"Did he mention any name at all in the time you were together."

"When we brought the woman to The Office, there was a guy there –like a doctor I suppose. He was only a young fella but himself and that Dog guy seemed to know each other."

"Was he an actual doctor, like a real doctor, or was he just a guy who knew first aid?"

"I'd say he was a real doctor, maybe not many years under the collar but, a real one all the same. I think he was the one who removed the organs too." Kevin's senses went on high alert, "would you recognize this doctor fella if you saw him again?"

"Oh yeah." Kevin and Franky stepped outside the room. Franky said he'd head to Trinity College and get the photos of all medical graduates for the past five years. Kevin would have gone along with this under normal circumstances but deemed it too long and arduous. He had a quicker way.

"Short cut Franky...send Richardson over immediately."

"Richards...ooohhh, right, right" Franky answered as he caught Kevin's idea. "Fuckin brillo!" Ninety minutes later, Kevin and Franky made their way from Dunne's hospital bed to the parking lot armed with a composite sketch of the so-called Doc. Richardson was their resident sketch artist and had created a drawing from Dunne's description. Trinity College housed the medical faculty in the university and if the Doc was indeed a graduate then the university would have him on record.

"Trinity College is fuckin huge" Franky said as he crossed the hospital's parking lot. "We'll be there all day if you ask me." Acutely aware of the time, Kevin knew he'd have to leave to pick up Lucy at the hospital – as it was, he was already late. "What do you have in mind?"

"College of Physicians?" he offered. "he'd have to be registered with them if he's practicing."

"You're right – it will be a lot faster there than trekking through Trinity. Aren't they near Trinity College anyway?"

"South Frederick Street", Franky said deactivating the alarm on his car. After the loud double chirp sounded he pulled open the door saying "c'mon Hartnett, I'll drive ya." If Lucy hadn't been waiting for him at the hospital, he would have followed Franky in a heartbeat, but if he called Lucy to tell her he was delayed, she would be in a taxi and bound for the train station in seconds. As always there would be no fuss, no complaints, but he just did not want to lose sight of her again. "I'll let you get this one. Call me when we can put a name to this fucker." Kevin then took out his mobile and called Lucy as he headed to his car.

On the drive back to Limerick, Kevin found Lucy's demeanor to be chatty but, again, not in a natural way; it was nervous, almost forced. Her eyes never stayed on one spot for more than two seconds. After listening for some time about past stories of Mags and Ciara, all the while interjecting small comments when necessary, he asked how Ciara was keeping. Lucy described, how the room was filled with flowers, how Simon was so happy and in love with Ciara, but nothing was mentioned about Ciara herself. Kevin found that just a little odd and probed further, gently asking if there was any new information learned from what Ciara recounted. Sure, he knew Franky had taken a statement, visiting twice afterwards to go over questions arising from the testimonial, but there was a chance that confiding information between both victims would help recall details otherwise forgotten. For the first time since leaving Dublin, Lucy became silent. It was more than a pause, the quietness grew until Kevin spoke again.

"Did something happen Luce?" Another long pause had passed when she finally answered "she's moved on."

"Moved on to where?"

"Just moved on."

"I don't get it ...is she alright?" Not wanting to be another unstable Jackie to him, Lucy decided that painful and all as it was, he should be told. The story of Tim's gambling, of Mag's pregnancy and the events which led from there were all recounted. As a final note Lucy added "now, I'm just a bad memory to her. She never wants to see me again." Kevin avoided any display of animosity towards Ciara, instead he just took one hand off the steering wheel, taking her hand in his, "that's her loss Luce." From there on Lucy became silent. It was a return to how she had been from their first day back in Limerick. The only incident that happened on the way back was Franky called to say the College of Physicians are checking their records for the doc along with Trinity College.

"Jaysus that's slow going."

"True" Franky said, "but we only have a sketch right – not a name, so ...it'll take a while. Anyway...they'll let me know if they get a hit."

*

Eugene Morris opened the door to his condo, only after checking on the security monitor who was standing outside. He had not been expecting company and was not pleased with having a visitor.

"How did you know where I lived?" Without invitation or explanation, Dog Owens entered the condo and sat himself down at the bar. Eugene checked the hallway before locking the door then made his way to the opposite side of the bar and poured a large whiskey for them both. Owens knocked back the liquor with zero contemplation on the intricacies of the taste.

"Griffin and Hartnett are making headway in the investigation. They're tracking the doc and it won't be long before it leads them to you." Eugene tried to show no surprise.

"What lead them to the Doc? They had nothing on any of us?"

"Dunne probably sang like a bird when they visited him in hospital." Eugene's fist came down hard on the counter.

"Fucking Higgins and his interference!!! He's been nothing but the biggest bloody scourge since he crossed our path."

"How do you want to deal with this?" Morris poured them both another whiskey in silence. There weren't many options out of this situation. No matter the outcome all ties had to be cut with Higgins.

"Dunne is a nuisance – let's give him the silent treatment." Owens nodded.

"That's extra."

Morris agreed on the price and shook Owens' hand to seal the deal. "But I want you to make this look like their rivals did it."

"The Kelly's, or The Westies?"

"Is there a difference?" Owens scoffed at Morris' ignorance.

"Their calling cards are their pride. When they do someone in, they make sure they leave a clear message as to who did it."

"Well which Gang 'offed' one of Higgins' men last."

"Andy O' Mahoney was offed by The Kelly's."

"Then Kelly style it is." Owens nodded.

"A word of warning boss, offing Dunne in this way will bring a wrath down on this city that you'll wish you never started. Not because Dunne is important in Higgins' rank but because you'll be making a turf war that will be brutal."

"All these gangs are going at each other's throats all the time anyway. That's not my problem. Right now I have two people who are a major problem for me, Hammer Higgins and that cop Hartnett. I want them out of my way so I can just go back to my business and my manor." Owens eyes him suspiciously, "what about the cop!"

"I just want him off the investigation."

"You're going about fixing your problems in the wrong way."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. You look after Dunne, I'll look after Hartnett."

"And Higgins?"

"Already taken care of."

"When do you want Dunne dead?"

"Tonight."

*

Kevin silently observed the gaunt face and once again wondered if this experience was something she could handle, or would it gnaw at her until one day she'd break down? The only thing she seemed glad about was he was staying in the house with her, which was contrary to her usual behavior. On more than one occasion she'd check and see if he would be there during the night. He promised to be there as long as she needed him. And while it made him happy, he knew it was an unhealthy sign in Lucy's psyche. He decided he would gently confront her, at least to talk about how she was feeling. She had no appetite, no energy and although she appeared cheery, there was a look of being hollow inside. If she did not get help soon he was scared to imagine what would happen. Armed with a particularly smooth Californian Shiraz and the ingredients for penne à la Arrabiata he called out a light-hearted "Hi Honey, I'm home" while entering the house after picking up some groceries. Their relationship was strictly platonic, much to his dismay. Every evening without fail Lucy retired to her room, him to the spare room and in this polite limbo remained whatever promise that night at the hotel held. Given all that she had been through, he felt like a perv for even wanting to make love to her.

"Hey Hartnett" she called back cheerfully from the kitchen. "You're home early."

"Well the Hartnett clan had no interest in me. They were expecting to spend time with you." Kevin had just spent Sunday lunch with his family. "The terrible trio say Hi and can't wait to see you again soon." Lucy didn't reply because he knew she couldn't bring herself to face his three brothers or any kind of social gathering. Instead she changed the subject, "I hadn't even thought of what I would make for supper."

"No need to" he replied with a wink "I'm looking after things tonight." He made his way to the kitchen and placed the groceries on the table. The arrangement had been that they would alternate days to cook meals. Kevin had declined that they pursue this accord given the fact that Lucy barely ate anything at all. But she refused to renege on her word and continued the task of cooking supper.

"Oh yeah?" Lucy answered in a mock challenge. "Something wrong with the meals this week?"

"Absolutely!" He retorted with tongue-in-cheek.

"Want to file a complaint with management?"

"Indeed!"

"Okay then" she said placing the mug on the counter "let's hear it then!" Kevin was unsure if he should leave this impromptu skit in the silly category or if he should use it as an opportunity to encourage Lucy to talk. He placed a white tea towel over his arm and with a terrible French accent announced, "I'm really a ells inspecsor in disguise!" Lucy giggled, "oh no! not a health inspector de-de-duhhhhmm."

"I'm here to inspect 'ealth Madame..." Kevin paused. She suspected nothing. Her arms were folded under her chest and she was smiling waiting for him to continue. Then delivering a blatant hint he said "...starsing wiz your hown." With an over-dramatic gesture Lucy put the back of her hand against her forehead.

"You fiend! My health is none of your business." He was unsure if she was staying in character or if she was catching on. At least she was talking...even if she didn't know where this was leading to...for now.

"Ah buss you are wrong madame. Your 'ealth is....your 'ealth is....' His arms fell by his side "I can't do this Luce."

"No-no-no-no, it was good – go on." She giggled oblivious to his dejection.

"I meant... I can't pretend anymore." He watched her frown. She was clueing in. "I can't pretend you're alright." Her demeanor changed. The wall was instantly up again. She held herself straight.

"Let it go Kev. I have."

"That's just it! You believe you have...but you haven't! How could you when..."

"Enough!" She barked. "We are not discussing this!"

"Grand then, brush it under the carpet. I'm sure the fact that you had an organ ripped from your body by some stranger in God knows what forsaken shithole doesn't bother you at all." Her jaw clenched. Her words came through gritted teeth.

"I said drop it Kevin."

"And the screaming you're doing at night?" He said rubbing a hand through his hair, "what is that then? A fuckin Thriller audition?" She went to move past him but he blocked her way.

"No more running Luce." Her fragile hands pushed against his chest but it had no effect on his solid structure. She stepped back with tears in her eyes proclaiming him to be the biggest bastard that ever walked the earth, but in the end stopped fighting and broke down. Her hands covered her face to hide the weakness she felt. His strong arms cradled her tightly as she sobbed uncontrollably on his chest.

"Luce I don't want you to suffer anymore. I want you to be well." It took a long moment for her.

"I'll get there Kevin, but I'll do it my way, at my pace, okay?" Then she left the kitchen for the confines of her bedroom. He left the ingredients there and instead poured himself a cold beer.

Some hours later, Lucy made her way to Kevin's bedroom. His mobile had been ringing non-stop but he did not seem to be answering. It was three fifteen in the morning and she wondered if he had gone to work but forgot his phone. She found him sleeping in bed, oblivious to the sound in the room. The sheet covered only his lower body, leaving his upper torso exposed. She could not help but take in the muscular outline, the broad shoulders, lean pectorals and abdomen that called for her to caress it. Lifting the sheet off to explore the rest was so tempting, but she pulled her eyes to the phone's caller I.D. It showed the name Franky. The phone stopped ringing probably because it had gone to voice mail then started ringing again.

"Kevin" Lucy called in a whisper while placing a hand on his arm. The bicep was larger, more developed than she remembered. He must have worked out to be shaped like this. Yet it didn't really show when he was fully dressed. "Kevin, wake- up." He did not budge. No longer able to stand the noise of the phone Lucy answered.

"For fuck sake Hartnett!! What took you so long!!!!!"

"Sorry" Lucy interjected softly to the male voice, "he'll be with you in a moment. Is it okay if I get him to call you back?" Franky was obviously embarrassed, "ah jaysus...sorry for disturbing...anything that ah...look ahm can you get Kevin to call Franky – it's an emergency!!"

"I will. He'll phone you back very shortly." Once the dial tone sounded Lucy sat on the bed, leaned in to Kevin's ear and said "It's Lucy....wake up." He jolted upright startling her and almost head-butting her.

"What's happening..." He turned quickly to see Lucy on the bed beside him, his eyes wide and alert, taking her in. "Are you alright? What is it?"

"Everything's okay Kev," Lucy said calmly. "Franky called your phone many times but you didn't hear it – like you were dead to the world."

"Franky?"

"He said it was an emergency. I told him you'd call him back immediately." Kevin's eyes roamed along Lucy's long smooth legs.

"Okay...ahm grand. What time is it?"

"Three twenty in the morning." Then as an afterthought she asked "what time did you get to bed at?"

"Two forty!"

"That would explain why you couldn't wake up. You're exhausted." She got up to leave and felt Kevin's hand take hers. She paused and said "best to call Franky." He seemed disappointed but took the mobile. She heard him exchange a few words then moments later he was dressed and in the hallway putting on his coat.

"You're leaving?"

"Gang trouble in Dublin" Kevin replied vaguely. He did not want Lucy to feel afraid, and she certainly would if he told her Donny Dunne had been murdered in his hospital bed.

"You're driving to Dublin now?" She exclaimed. The deep circles under his eyes were testimony to the level of exhaustion he was trying to hide. "But you've hardly slept. You'll fall asleep at the wheel for sure."

"I'll make some extra-strong coffee. That'll set me right."

"You will do no such thing Kevin Hartnett. I'll drive you to Dublin. You can sleep on the way." He laughed at the idea but quickly stopped when he saw she was deadly serious.

"Lucy go on back to bed. I'll call you when I get there. Promise."

"Fine then." The tone denoted it was far from fine but he hadn't the energy to argue and headed to the kitchen to make a flask of coffee for the road. He paused as he passed her closed bedroom door on his way out, but decided against pursuing their last conversation. As if on auto-pilot, he opened the driver door and found Lucy dressed and sitting at the wheel with a face that clearly showed this situation was non-negotiable.

"You are unbelievable. You know where my spare key is?"

"Of course...and it's just a lift Harnett."

"A long lift."

"Just sleep on the way there." The need for sleep was so overwhelming, he couldn't refuse even if it was killing him to accept.

"Okay. But keep the car when you drop me at the station. I'll tag along with Franky. I may be in Dublin for a while."

"Check if my car is repaired. You can use that if need be."

"Good idea..." He passed his hand through his hair "do you want to stay somewhere in Dublin? I could get us a hotel if you like." Donny Dunne had just been murdered by what appeared to be a rival gang. If the hit was due to a move to gain more turf then he would rest easy, disturbing as that sounded. But if it was a move to kill people involved in the organ theft then that was a whole other kettle of fish. He couldn't chain her to the bed, but letting her go was taking a really big risk.

"No need to, I have my own itinerary."

"Really?' This was not a good thing. "May I ask what that is?"

"I'll call you when I'm back home. Okay?" He walked around to the passenger side, hopped in and placed his flask in the cup holder. "We'll talk about this later- okay?"

"There's nothing more to say."

"Jesus, you're a tough woman to bargain with." He would need to know what she was up to, for her own safety at least. He sent a quick text to Franky asking to free up an officer when he got there. Without another word he leaned the seat back completely and was asleep before they came to the first set of lights. Lucy was relieved to see him sleeping. Her shoulders deflated from the effort of appearing normal. The truth be told she felt a perpetual weight or darkness dragging her from one day into the next. Logically she supposed it was a form of depression, but that was just a word hovering on the periphery of her wounded mind, something she could not grasp. There was no place to shelter from her own thoughts and even being at home didn't help. If anything the walls seemed to be closing in on her. Was it cabin fever or a latent mental condition? Despite her fierce independence and need to resolve things on her own, this...whatever name could be ascribed to how she felt, seemed so much bigger than her and would surely swallow her whole if it wasn't reined in. For the first time in her life Lucy did not have the tools to help herself and that was frightening beyond any nightmare haunting her dreams.

*

The Serenity Center was warm and welcoming – Zen- like and peaceful. A soft flute melody piped through the rooms automatically slowed the pace of the harried. White walls had strategically placed bamboo plants flourishing in the generous, but calming lights. A babbling water fountain brought sounds of a clear brook making its way over river rocks, while tasteful laminated posters promoted yoga, tai-chi and other activities. Lucy approached a low reception desk where a cheery faced young man stood and bowed gently.

"Welcome to the Serenity Center. How may I help you?"

"I don't have an appointment but I was wondering if Dao-Ming is in this morning?"

"Certainly. She is in the care center. Who may I tell her is visiting?" The smile never broke and it wasn't forced. There was a genuine state of happiness exuding from this man and Lucy wanted so badly to feel the same thing.

"Lucy Courtney. Thank you." He then graciously offered her a seat while he went to fetch Dao-Ming. During her studies at the University of Limerick, Lucy met and became friends with a Chinese national studying psychology. Mandarin Chinese was one of the languages Lucy had in her discipline and placed an ad on the bulletin board looking for someone she could practice with. Dao-Ming signed up and there began their friendship. It wasn't a strong connection, more of a mutual respect and understanding for what each one was trying to achieve. Dao-Ming was going to specialize in the holistic treatment of trauma victims where cognitive behavior therapy fused with Eastern traditional methods to encompass a body-mind healing process. Never in a million years would Lucy have thought she would need the petite Asian woman's help, but right now she seemed like the only option between healing and madness.

*

While Dao-Ming arrived in the lobby and eyed Lucy with great concern, across the city Kevin was getting a call from Ham. Franky was talking about his progress with the College of Physicians - apparently no progress had been made with the search for the doctor. They had yet to come across a match to the sketch left to them. He'd chance Trinity College's Alumni office. Kevin held up a finger while he took the call. He just had time to say hi to his older sibling before a second call came in. Putting Ham on hold with a "hang on a sec" he took the call waiting. It was Dan. Immediately he sensed something was wrong. Simultaneous calls from his brothers happened once before and that was to say his grandfather had died suddenly. He put them both on "conference call" mode and asked what was going on. The feedback was uncharacteristically frantic. Kevin caught snippets of Ham saying Rose and Maeve, his wife and little girl were threatened this morning on their way to school. Dan's wife and son James had been told something similar in the shopping center parking lot. The common denominator was the message to Kevin - if he didn't back off on his investigation his family would be harmed.

Kevin calmly took a description of the individuals then hung up and went ballistic. A line had been crossed that had never been touched before. His family was under threat. He swore madly after hanging up and began pounding his fist on the dashboard of Franky's car. He would slay the fuckers who would dare touch any one in his family. Franky managed to calm him down long enough to get the description of the people. When he was calm enough, Kevin called Ham and Dan back to tell them where to hide out but the large Clare family was already in reaction mode pulling their children from school, their wives from their respective jobs and their parents from their home. Everyone was going to bunker down in Ham's house and all of the Hartnett men would be armed and on patrol. God help whoever stepped onto their land. With the phone number registered in his log book Kevin called the deep voiced man who had warned him off the case.

"Hartnett" the voice did not sound pleased. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Listen carefully you prick! If any of your fuckin rats approaches my family again, I'll put a fuckin bullet through Higgins' head myself and you'll meet the same end."

"Tough words for a man who can't even keep his woman safe."

"What!!!!!" Kevin roared.

"Back the fuck out of the investigation Hartnett or we'll come for her second kidney!"

"You're a fuckin dead man!!!! I'll rip your balls out and feed them to you – ya thick fucker!!!!!"

"Good luck trying. You don't even know where she is right now, but I do. The Serenity Center." The line went dead.

Kevin tried calling her mobile, but there was no answer. He left her a calm, unhurried message asking her to stay where she was then hung up. Franky called the officer tailing Lucy. He relayed the words of the young recruit as they were being spoken "she's in a clinic of sorts called The Serenity Center on O'Connell Street - hasn't exited yet." Franky put the siren on and tore across the city, loudly beeping to warn motorists and pedestrians alike to move out of their way.

*

Dao-Ming had asked Lucy a long string of questions and put her under numerous tests. The result was, post-traumatic stress was making Lucy very ill. Physical and emotional balance was urgently required and acupuncture was the first step in the healing process. Given the tranquil setting, Lucy could not help but feel fleeting moments of peace or normality. No tears fell when she described her ordeal, but when asked about how things were since waking up at the hospital, Lucy could not retain the waterfall of emotion that poured forth. Everything seemed to be measured in terms of before and after the kidney being removed. Sudden loud noises frightened her. Nightmares haunted her sleep when she did manage to get some, most of the time she felt too hyper to even close her eyes and fear gripped her constantly. What was especially paralyzing was when she walked on the street. There was always this heightened awareness, a horrible sensation that someone would pull her into a van and she'd be helpless again. Eating was a pleasure that had evaporated, as food held no flavor. Everything tasted bland and she could only manage to ingest little quantities of what she described as cardboard. The involuntary sobs continued until Lucy was guided to a room across the hall where the temperature was cozy, warmer than average. A large deeply cushioned table covered with white towels stood in the center with the same Zen décor completing the look. Dao-Ming prepared her work then left Lucy to undress down to her panties and to settle herself on the table, tummy down. Minutes later she returned having warmed her hands then placed them gently on Lucy's scar. There must have been at least eighty needles covering Lucy's back, arms, legs and hands giving Lucy the impression she was a pin cushion, but which admittedly was lowering the heightened level of flight or fight response that, according to Dao, she was stuck in. Despite the prickly sensation of needles piercing her skin, Lucy began to doze off. The healing session would probably have lasted much longer had Kevin not barged into the room. Lucy shot upright, screaming at the intrusion, fear gripping her heart and subsequently dissolving any benefits the past three hours of treatment had brought. Instinctively she grabbed a towel to cover her nakedness. Dao-Ming stepped away in fear at the sight of the stranger.

"Police" he shot towards her, "it's all right." Dao-Ming did not agree, nothing about the way he was behaving was all right.

"Luce get dressed." Kevin ordered oblivious to the harm he was causing. "It's not safe here!! I'll explain on the way." Before she could reply he ordered the therapist to remove the needles as quickly as possible. Dao-Ming was not used to confrontation of any kind and looked to Lucy to see if she knew what was going on, but Lucy was frozen with fear. Kevin barked at her to get busy and the woman jolted into action removing the pins all the while glaring at Kevin. He busied himself collecting Lucy's clothes then stood there waiting impatiently until the last needle was gone. He quickly ordered Dao-Ming out. After she left, he placed Lucy's clothes before her and turned his back.

"Please get dressed quickly. We need to get out of here. Now!" Lucy didn't move. The towel still clung tightly in her fists. He waited a few moments then glanced over his shoulder and balked when he saw she hadn't moved. "Move Luce!" he exclaimed, "This is urgent!!!"

"How did you know I was here?" Her tone was hollow, detached, as if she was in a trance.

"Now's not the time for questions. We have a real problem on our hands."

"Anyone could follow me and I can't see it." Frustrated to the point of implosion, Kevin took Lucy's clothes and pushed them toward her.

"I need to get you out of here and I swear if I have to take you out of here naked I will." She said nothing and remained immobile. He swallowed hard hanging his head in dismay. Without a word he gently took the towel revealing her curvy breasts.

"I'm sorry Lucy...I'm just...I'm just trying to keep you safe." When she said nothing, he took her bra and gently slipped the straps over each shoulder, but it didn't seem to go on right. He fumbled for a minute before she removed it from his hands then slipped her arms into the straps so the cups fell to the front. Heavy tears dropped onto her thighs.

"It ties in the front." Kevin watched as she brought both cups together and snipped the clasp into place at her cleavage. His eyes met hers, his passion burning wildly but Lucy's light had gone out. He saw how far she had fallen, how vulnerable she was. Gently, he placed the lacy camisole over her head followed by a see-through chiffon blouse then helped her down off the table. Gently, he slipped jeans on over her panties. Once her sandals were on he held her hands tightly, "I want you to be safe, and I'll do anything to make sure you are" he promised. He couldn't know how Lucy had lost the concept of security and that his barging into the clinic had smashed whatever sliver of healing that had begun. Dao-Ming stood stoically beside the cheery receptionist, her eyes following Lucy who was being pulled along by Kevin towards the door.

"Thank you" Lucy mimed to the therapist. Oblivious to what had gone down, the receptionist called "your bill Miss Courtney!" Dao-Ming chided him quietly in Mandarin. Lucy glanced over her shoulder and responded in the same language, "Xie Xie. Qǐng yóujì dào wǒjiā."

"The Gresham Hotel" Kevin announced to Franky whose car was directly in front of the Serenity Center. Lucy turned and said quietly, "I'm going home." Kevin caught Franky's glance and felt the car slow down.

"It's still The Gresham" he repeated. He then took Lucy's hand "look home is not safe, okay? Now we'll talk about this later."

"The hotel isn't safe either. Ireland isn't safe." The remainder of the short trip passed in silence. They didn't speak again until booked into their hotel room – a luxurious affair with two queen sized beds.

"Too fancy for nothing" Lucy tsked. They had no luggage but the bell-boy still felt the need to introduce their guests to the accommodation. Kevin tipped him, while quickly sending him away.

"It's not for nothing" Kevin sighed.

"Well I'll split the bill with you then."

"Don't twist my words Luce, you know what I meant."

"That's just it, I don't know what you mean!! I'm hauled out of a..."

"I had to!!!! You have no idea what is happening."

"Well tell me then!" The pained expression revealed that he was struggling with something – probably how to produce an edited version of the truth Lucy thought.

"The fffu......" he coughed to regulate his temper, "there has been an unexpected..." He shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets. "The investigation isn't going as planned." There was a tone of finality in the phrase.

"That's not telling me much."

"That's all I can give you for now!!!" His bark took her by surprise.

"You don't have to yell." He took both key cards to the room.

"I have to go to the station, but will be back in a few hours. I have a man downstairs who is discreetly, keeping an eye on things. You are not to move from this room. He walked to the door then turned to look at her, "I ordered you some lunch – room service. It will be left at the door. Under no circumstances are you to leave someone enter this room." Ignoring her pained expression, he raised the _Do Not Disturb_ sign on the outer handle then left. Lucy curled herself tightly on the bed. Before she would have kicked and fought but all of that fight was gone. It left with her kidney. And however noble Kevin's intentions were, the fact that she was under orders not to leave the room made her feel like an invalid, an incapable child. The whole situation reeked of control, someone else's control over her and it was just one more element taxing her addled mind. She lay still for about thirty minutes before the feeling of being caged in was too much.

"I can't do this!" she said and left. Her feet ambled quickly over the deep plush carpet as she made her way down the corridor to the elevator. The opulent lobby was bustling with German tourists being checked into their respective rooms. Lucy hurried past the marble reception desks narrowly missing the table holding an elaborate centrepiece flower arrangement. Through the heavy glass doors life on O'Connell Street beckoned. Freedom was inches away.

"Miss Courtney!" He appeared out of nowhere. She almost screamed with fright. A tall, sullen man wearing a suit that reeked of official duty stepped in front of her. While she tried to regain her composure he continued. "You wouldn't be trying to leave now, would you?" She was just wondering if this was the man Kevin had mentioned, when from inside his breast pocket he produced an identification badge confirming her initial hunch. Officer Moroney continued, "because that would be going against orders." There was something about the beady eyes and haughty features that made her take an instant dislike to this policeman. "Poor little Miss Courtney," he teased "has to be paid a luxury hotel to obey her man."

"Obey?" Lucy frowned at the words. "I don't obey anyone!"

"That's what Kevin said, "A right fucking shrew you are."

"Hmmff!," she scowled and the look of disgust that followed did not gage a reaction from him at all. Something snapped within her. "On babysitting duty are you?" Her tone was mocking "you must have committed quite the fuck-up to earn such a prestigious task." His face remained stoic, but there was a tightness building around the eyes. She had no idea where this was coming from. It wasn't the kind of thing she would usually say, but she couldn't turn it off. A smirk of triumph touched her lips as his face reddened.

"Kevin said you were a viper...too fucked up to handle. That's why he's with his missus at the moment. They were going to break up, but he had a change of heart."

"I wouldn't believe the likes of you!" The scoff was insulting. A phone was extracted from an inner breast pocket. He fiddled around with the screen for a while before showing her a text from Kevin. _Moroney, got to see the missus. Watch the shrew. She's tough to handle. Thanks_

The cacophony of chatter in the background seemed to cease all of a sudden as her ears rang. Her face stung as if it had just been slapped. The impact of the words hit her like a ton of bricks. The man was laughing now as the look of horror showed on her face.

"You're not getting past me tonight Missy, so get your manipulative arse back to your room." Lucy turned slowly on her heels and headed back the way she came feeling foolish beyond belief. Cliché as it sounded, she had allowed herself to believe that Kevin truly loved her, cared for her, and that they would have been together once his divorce was finalized. Turns out that wasn't the case – she was just a distraction, something to tide him over until the 'missus' decided to take him back. Everything he had told her was bullshit and she had foolishly believed it. Images of Kevin being with the flawless raven-haired beauty made Lucy divert her return to the room, which she had no access to anyway, and head for the bar instead.

Confiding in a barman was not something she had ever done before, finding the idea of telling a stranger her problems to be preposterous. For one, there was no guarantee of discretion – he or she could be a right blabbermouth. And, if one subscribed to the six-degrees-of -separation theory then chances were he was connected to someone in her limited entourage, which was too close for comfort. So despite being seated at the hotels' horseshoe shaped bar and confiding nothing to the barman -although the urge to confess was there each time he filled her glass with vintage chardonnay, which was all being charged to Kevin's bill –she was really surprised when he told her, she had had enough to drink. Feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment, Lucy balked at the audacity. She had been sitting silently at the bar, not saying a word to anyone. Well she had greeted a few couples as they came in, but nothing that wasn't discreet or friendly. It seemed there was no sanctuary in having a drink by ones' self without being judged. Admittedly the main issue was that one more person, another man funnily enough, was telling her what to do. Lucy beckoned the barman over.

"Lisen up, my fren – 'khay!" The pointed finger was woefully off target. "Snot you, or anneee-one (burp) else for tha' mater s'gonna tell me wha to do – khay? An' you khant jus boss peepul round for th'fun of it. Walk in my shoes n' you'll see for yourself – but they won't fitja coz I have small feet. Now that you know 'bout my shoes, you'll see I jus had a kidnee ripped ouahme....n'thas.... it –khay?" She paused to check why the bar stool was unstable. The barman took that moment to quickly call for help. When she was sitting upright and holding on tight to the bar counter she continued, "an whasmor.....you'll see I don care if hees bach wih hurrr...wee are done.. ,n'he can fechoff for himself. Now (burp)...more wine! An fichs these shaggin stools n'ther a death trap!"

"Miss Courtney?" Lucy turned taking a moment to focus then frowned when she found the same uniformed man from earlier – the one who knew where Kevin was.

"Who'are you? A fuchin genie in a bottle!" The man sighed heavily before enquiring from the barman as to the exact amount of drink she had taken. Just as Lucy said "three vinos", the barman replied "ten...and that's when I cut her off." Slapping her hand on the counter Lucy protested "Ya can't count!!!" She straightened upright on the stool insisting on having the error corrected. The two empty wine bottles were placed directly on the counter as irrefutable proof of what was consumed. With a slight nod and a smile of comprehension she tapped the barman on the hand saying conspiratorially "drinking on the job are we?" The barman rolled his eyes to his boss.

"She's been greeting couples with warnings to the wives like –are you sure you know what he's up to when you're not around? It's bad! Please have her leave, now," he warned. The hotel concierge arrived and raised his hands as a sign to calm down then turned to Lucy and politely asked her to follow him immediately. She protested and despite the staffs discretion Lucy managed to ignite a full blown argument. All of a sudden Kevin entered the melee, took Lucy firmly by the arm extracting her silently while she swore profusely. He turned to officer Moroney and said "you fucked up again. Wait here and don't move." To the concierge, he asked about a way back to their room that didn't entail exposing her to the whole hotel. Relieved to be getting rid of her, the concierge hurried ahead with a simple "follow me, sir." Lucy didn't have the strength to protest being lead by Kevin. She could see he was trying to be gentle but held on firmly because she was having a problem with her sandals. The high corked heel would buckle every few steps even though that had never happened before. When he did glance at her there was no anger visible, nothing but kindness, or maybe pity. There was nothing to indicate he had returned with Jackie.

"Wha' didja get up to this afternoon, Khev?"

"We'll talk about that later. For now let's get you some coffee and then you can tell me about your afternoon."

"Sounds fine with me..." Her tone was petulant. "But a little birdie already told me what you were up to...!!" Kevin did not reply but continued down a winding corridor, anxious to get Lucy back to the room.

"I feel like I'm sailing" she sighed while leaning heavily on his arm.

"Too much alcohol will do that Luce." A reply of protest on the false accusation was about to come out when she became distracted by the piped music coming through the sound system. It was a bland generic Simon and Garfunkel song reminding her of a recent bad romantic relationship. Sam was surely gigging away around the pubs being the star he needed to be. She felt so foolish for having slept with him.

"I never want to hear folk music again. You know the Me and Hoolio kind." Kevin smiled.

"I'm not sure I get that but ....okay no more 'folk'music."

"Sam's an eggit anyway. I was right to tell him I never wanted to see him again!!!"

"Sam?" Kevin stopped to look into Lucy's eyes. "Who's Sam?"

"I just told you....a folk singer and star extraordinaire."

"He's boyfriend?"

"W-a-s." A look of mock disgust crossed her face "not the best listener are ya Hartnett." He didn't respond instead he lead them on. Lucy looked at Kevin in earnest.

"I thought you were...my boyfriend." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I mean I was tryin to be honorable, waiting until you divorced Miss fuchin perfect knickers....but you just went on back to her!!" The concierge glanced over his shoulder. Kevin's jaw clenched tight "right now, we need to get you feeling better. After that we'll deal with the issues at hand?" Lucy waved a hand flippantly "won't change my mind. ...that's for sure." Employees passing through the hotel's bowels threw curious glances at the concierge leading a wavering redhead, walking with the support of a tall, bulky man. No questions were asked, but the looks said it all. One cheery porter asked the group if everything was alright and did they need a hand. The offer was declined with their guide confidently saying everything was grand. Lucy shuffled along several corridors before being filed into the freight elevator. Once at the fifth floor, the concierge let them out then went back to his duties. Kevin was grateful to finally close the door of their room. Silently he brought Lucy to the bed holding her steady while he lowered her down. Once he slipped off her shoes he placed a warm blanket over before turning her on her side.

"I'll get a bucket in case you don't feel well during the night."

"Khevn?"

"What is it Luce? Are you okay?"

"I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" His brows burrowed deeply "leaving to where?" Lucy was already passed out.

*

"What's wrong with him?" the ox was concerned with how his boss was shaking uncontrollably. He had been fine for a day or two following the transplant but then took a turn for the worse. Despite having round the clock care his progress didn't seem to be going well. "Are you sure the operation was a success?" The young doc kept his eyes trained on the patient who was showing signs of rejection. The die was cast when Morris decided to transfer Ciara's organs to Higgins even though her arm was infected and she was feverish. It was one sure way to cause organ rejection and ultimately, death. That, combined with days without any anti-rejection medication, deliberately exchanged with placebos, had set in motion a seemingly naturally occurring phenomenon. A fever had set in; flu-like symptoms were progressing, he wasn't urinating as often and the blood work was showing degeneration of the organ. The gang boss was on a slow boat to the funeral home.

"Well?" the ox pressed, "is he gonna be all right?" Still addressing the patient the doc continued, "I'll have to do an ultrasound on the kidney, just to make sure all is going well."

"He doesn't look like he's doing well!"

"Hush John," Higgins whispered weakly. "Let the man do his job."

"I'm just sayin' he doesn't look old enough to tie his own shoelaces let alone give any kind of care!" The doctor patted Higgins' hand, "I'll get the ultrasound set up. I won't be long."

'Thanks doc! Don't listen to John here, he's just a worryin' old hag." Higgins' hacking cough of laughter made John relax somewhat. The doc nodded toward them both then left the opulent room. The doctor pulled the Sonosite ultrasound machine from the corner of the highly organized supply room. With a quick glance over his shoulder he removed the mobile phone from his scrubs then pressed number one to speed dial Eugene Morris. It was picked up on the second ring.

"Yes." The voice was curt as always.

"He's getting worse."

"How long?"

"ten days, two weeks give or take."

"What's the problem?"

"That ape is suspicious."

"We'll handle it!"

"It's not my fucking job to handle the heavies. I'm already on call twenty four seven wiping the shitty arse of a fucking gang boss that I'd rather spit on than care for."

"Okay, okay.........look I'll get the Dog out. But keep it together."

"What will the Dog do?"

"Handle the heavies."

"Tell him to start with the big fella because he's my biggest threat now."

"Leave that to me. Just keep it together."

"That's easy for you to say – you're not here. I'm the one seeing him consume mass amounts of drugs. He rants and raves about a cop who is investigating the harvesting. He wants to kill him. He constantly talks about killing this cop. He's unstable!"

"Noted."

"I don't want to be around when the shit hits the fan."

"You won't, your flight is booked as agreed upon." Unknown to the doctor, John the ox stepped away from the entrance to the supply room, where he had been eavesdropping on the doc's conversation. He headed back to the boss with a whole new problem he had not anticipated. His mind was already strategizing a resolution but he'd have to act fast. Higgins would have to approve the move, that's if the man could get his mind out of the fog long enough to have a clear thought. A glance at the black dial of his Hublot watch told him it was one in the morning - mere hours to pull something together.

*

"I'm in hell." Lucy whispered as the blinding pain jack-hammered through her skull. The interior of her mouth consisted of gluey paste and her stomach was sending signals that contents would be expelled imminently. Pushing back the blanket she eased up off the bed with a sharp intake of air. Cluster bombs exploded before her eyes as the blinding light of the sun forced them shut. The sound of a muted laugh emanating from across the room forced her to cautiously open one eye. She took in the figure leaning forward in the armchair. Kevin Hartnett was dressed, shaved and like someone on high alert. He was holding a coffee mug and sporting a lopsided grin which made him extremely handsome. It also made Lucy feel self-conscious and embarrassed.

"Have a wee brew and some Advil" he offered while walking towards her, "promises to take you out of hell and into purgatory." Fearing her breath smelt like a public toilet she accepted the Advil then excused herself before slipping away to the bathroom. It took thirty minutes of showering, flossing and rinsing with a hefty dose of mouthwash before she felt human again. The four Advil taken was beginning to take effect. Breakfast had arrived when she emerged. Kevin lifted the covers off the plates waving his hand over the food.

"For Madame." The smell of freshly cooked bacon, eggs and sausages had her stomach protesting.

"Madame will just have coffee, if you don't mind."

"As Madame wishes." He passed her a cup filled with the brown nectar. "Is it safe to ask how you're feeling?" Lucy winced.

"Judging from how I feel I must have been fairly well oiled. Did I cause any trouble?" He laughed heartily, the smile reaching all the way to his eyes crinkling the surrounding skin, "you cause trouble Luce? Impossible!"

"That doesn't sound good." Images of the Shrew came to mind. He took his plate added some toast on top of the food and headed to the coffee table. He spoke just before lifting a forkful into his mouth, "the only harm you did was to yourself."

"That sounded like an edited version, which means you're holding back on me." She moved to the edge of the armchair after adding a little more coffee to warm up what was left in the cup.

"Well besides picking a fight with an innocent bartender, giving unwanted relationship advice to many hotel guests, you may have mentioned something about leaving." He put the half eaten plate to the side and took a swig of coffee, "had you planned on going somewhere in particular?" Lucy silently cursed the Chardonnay and its loquacious effect. Part of her had planned on telling him about an opportunity that had come along but there was also a side to her, the lone independent spirit telling her she answered to no one. Kevin Hartnett didn't need to know any of her business. But her heart told her to cop on after all he had done to keep her alive. The duality suddenly weighed on the side of silence when she remembered Kevin was off with his ex-missus, or still-missus yesterday afternoon and that's the reason she got smashed. Well that and the fact he saw her as a trouble-making shrew.

"Must have been the alcohol talking," she lied. "And you? How did things go yesterday afternoon?" His lips pressed together for a moment, "there are still things to work through, but it will be fine again really soon." He smiled reassuringly, "I'm certain of it!" Lucy nodded then looked down into the almost empty coffee mug. Images of evaporating out of the room, or disappearing through the floor filled her mind. Staying here with him was not an option. It was time to cut all ties and stop fooling herself that he loved her enough to want to be with her and her alone.

"Good," she said standing up and placing the mug on the coffee table "I'm glad to hear that." He stood up, removed his leather jacket from the back of the chair then slipped it on.

"Right" he said patting his pockets to make sure he had his car keys "I'll go downstairs and check us out. Shouldn't be long." Lucy felt relief. He would be out of sight long enough to give her time to make a run for it somewhere, anywhere away from him, away from the pain.

"Okay then" she smiled briefly ".......see you in a bit." The second he left the room, she knocked back an untouched glass of orange juice, gathered up her coat and bag then headed to the door. Peering around, she checked the corridor in both directions then tip-toed her way towards the exit via the stairs. Once on the ground floor, she checked the reception desks and lobby area. There was no sign of Kevin which was truly a lucky break. Crossing the opulent hall with a hurried gait she felt the breeze of freedom wash over her after stepping out onto the street. Her eyes scanned the traffic for an available taxi.

"Sorry Luce, doesn't work that way." Her head whipped around, confusion and horror crossed her face. "What the..." He was leaning lazily against the wall a look of triumph in his smirk.

"Running off?" he asked approaching her. The handcuffs were snapped onto her wrist before her mind even grasped what he was doing. "Just like old times Luce!!" he said with a piercing gaze. He was referring to when he actually placed her under arrest in County Clare.

"Kevin" she spoke through gritted teeth "get these off me right now or you will be so sorry." Just then his car pulled to the curb, a fit looking valet hopped out then joined them on the footpath. He dropped a set of keys into his hand and Kevin pulled a note from his pocket tipped the man then brought Lucy to the driver's side.

"In you go Miss Courtney" he said smiling. "Only way to do this." After throwing him a look of blue murder she slipped into the driver seat then climbed over onto the passenger side. Her mind raced to find a way out of this because staying with him was too painful. "Comfy?" His question held a genuine tone to but everything took on an air of mockery simply because he had figured out her plan and rendered her powerless.

"What's it to you what I am!"

"No sulking Luce. You brought this on yourself by not doing as I asked. I hope you can at least see that stubborn streak in your make-up." Ignoring the inner voice that was telling her to shut-up, she said "women obeying you....hmmm... how's that working out for you Kevin? Two for two eh?" The eruption of anger she expected to see never occurred, if anything he was amazingly understanding.

"You're angry" he stated gently like a parent trying to bring a child to a different perspective, "that's understandable, but for once I know that fighting, or running away isn't the answer to this situation. I have forced you to be with me to protect you, and I'll explain why." Lucy couldn't help noticing how her hand was close to his, albeit uncomfortably. It was near his lap as he drove with one hand. "The people who have hurt you Luce are tied in with a very violent gang. Ciara's kidney and liver was transplanted to the gang boss, so to speak, and because I'm investigating they have threatened my brothers' family. That's why I pulled you out of that center you were in. They had threatened to hurt you too – more than they already have."

A gasp escaped her lips. A million thoughts raced through her mind. She tried to control them by placing pertinent questions in order but all that came out was a string of disjointed queries.

"Oh my God.....is your family okay? Please tell me nobody has been harmed? When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me? Where is this gang now?"

"Well" he sighed "in that order, yes; everyone's fine, yesterday, because I didn't think it would help your recovery to know about this. And finally, I don't know where they are at now, that's why I'm keeping you close to me."

"I wish you had told me this earlier. It would have helped me understand." He had stopped at a traffic light but didn't turn to look at her. The silence hung in the air for a long moment before he finally spoke.

"It wouldn't have changed how you felt, or how you reacted Luce. Your mind-set isn't in the collective but in the individualist." The light changed and he shifted gears while crossing the intersection. "You can't help that" he continued all the while concentrating on driving. Only occasionally would he glance at her. "...with no family to call your own.....well...you're used to making the decisions that usually only affect you. There aren't people lining up to tell you how you've screwed up, or worse, how you've hurt them." It was never easy to hear she was so alone in the world and while he didn't mean it as a reproach, more of a statement, it still wasn't something she needed reminding of. Several sharp responses to his remark sat on the tip of her tongue but were never uttered. That particular subject was one she did not feel like dissecting today. In a move to turn away from the discomfort, she veered her body toward the passenger side window letting her hair form a screen between them. The passing world outside provided a distraction from the uneasy atmosphere inside the car. Heavy droplets of rain spattered onto the glass creating long streaks of water as gravity pulled them down into the window. Colorful umbrellas opened up like flowers, as people reacted to the rain shower. They were on the outskirts of the city now but she had no idea where they were headed and preferred not to ask. It wasn't like she could control anything about the situation so a 'wait and see' approach was deemed best. The rain quickly grew into a significant downpour. Visibility became poor and traffic slowed until they were bumper to bumper and finally stopped. As they sat hemmed in on all sides awkwardness lay thick in the air. Neither one spoke. The silence became louder than a scream. Her manacled wrist ached, but she preferred to say nothing than complain about the pain. A movement on her hand made her look across at him. He was inserting the key in the cuffs with a wry smile. "I believe you know how important it is that you stay close to me now." The latch snapped up freeing her hand with a wonderful sensation of release. "These guys are brutal Luce." When the bang sounded first she thought someone had crashed into them, but in the time it took to process that thought the front windshield had shattered. Everything seemed to have a slower than normal effect. A popping noise filled the air. Kevin dived low putting his body over hers. "Down!!!!" he shouted above the din. "Fuckers are shootin at us." He drew his gun shouting at her to stay down as he pushed her low into the seat. From where she had crouched she saw him keep low then train the gun on nothing in particular. He manoeuvred the car out to the right, angrily beeping the horn. Her head banged against the gears as they tilted unevenly to the driver's side like they were no longer on a straight path. She realized he was driving partially on a footpath. The phone was thrown onto the seat with a bark to call the police. Kevin recited a number and told her to use that as proof it was him. "Tell them multiple injuries already." She felt frozen for a second until he roared "GO GO GO!!!!!" With a shaking hand she selected the emergency services then barked "Police" to the operator.

"I need the police. We're being shot at." There was a small pause, her breathing came hard, "our location???" Her eyes shot to Kevin's for information.

"North King Street not far from..." his eyes shot around for a street sign or something familiar which would indicate their bearings "Smithfield." Another popping noise pierced the air. Lucy screamed but gathered herself enough to repeat the street names. Kevin pushed the pedal to the floor jolting her forward 'but we're on the move again' she told the emergency operator. The car was rear ended just as the operator asked where they were heading. Lucy swore aloud.

"Look I'm with a police officer – identification number " she repeated the number Kevin had given her "we need help now!!!!!"

"Hang up!!!" Kevin yelled "Hang up now - Call Franky." Lucy pressed the key for F and found his number. Kevin grabbed the phone and for the first time Lucy heard what was really happening. "Higgins' has called it! He's trying to take us out. I'm sure it's the fucking ox making his move. And Franky get me the fuck some protection now." Kevin threw the phone back to Lucy and told her to call Ham "tell him they've made the move – be ready. Do not mention what's going on right now!!" She was thrown around as the car skidded, weaved and sped through obstacles of all sorts. Scrolling to H on the alphabetical listing Lucy selected the contact and listened as the phone rang on the other end.

"What is it Kev?," the woman's voice asked impatiently. Lucy was about to ask for Ham when the woman continued "changed your mind, have you?" A long sigh followed. Lucy looked at the contact identity and saw she had selected 'J' not 'H'. In her nervousness she had called Kevin's wife, Jackie.

"Fine then!!" the wife spat with venom, "If you think playing games..."

"Ahm...sorry" Lucy interjected, "wrong number," then hung up.

"What was that?" Kevin asked. On the second attempt she made sure to select the correct name.

"I accidentally called your wife," she explained while waiting for Ham to pick up. Kevin went to say something but she held up her hand as Ham came on the line.

"Hi Ham, Lucy Courtney here." Speaking with Ham was the most surreal conversation of her life. Pretending everything was fine while under fire from a violent gang was not an easy task. Still, Ham got the message that Kevin couldn't come to the phone but that he needed his family in Clare to be safe. Just as she was about to hang up Ham said "we'd love to have you with us again...in a more permanent capacity, if you get my drift." A sort of hysterical giggle came out and she quickly said thanks and hung up. Her cheeks were flushed when she handed the phone back to Kevin. He threw her a look of curiosity but she said nothing. All of a sudden the car jolted to a stop on a street where half of the buildings were for rent and the other half deserted. They were in front of an abandoned pub of all things.

"I have an idea" he exclaimed then reversed down the Smithfield street perpendicular to North King Street then turned again down an alley way. "Get out now, we have only seconds before they catch on." They dashed to the rear of the pub, where the ground level was much lower, similar to a basement. A variety of rubbish littered the doorway. Damp and moss were claiming the concrete walls surrounding the pub giving off a distinct odor of rot which reminded her of the Thompson estate. Kevin jumped down then tossed the trash aside with his foot until he located the metal doors. He managed to lift the metal plate in the ground where crates and kegs would be off-loaded to replenish the pub's stocks. With great effort he twisted the rusting metal ring until it unlocked.

"There was an assault here last year", he explained to Lucy "I got in this way when the owner –which was the bank – couldn't be reached to give us access." He descended a ladder just below ground level. "I'll go down first. There may be rats and debris. Well there was the last time, so I'm sure the family has grown somewhat since." Just the thoughts of rats gave her a bad dose of the heebie-jeebies. Goosebumps crept along her arms at the thoughts of encountering any rodent. "Alright, Luce c'mon – it's ah....not so bad." A shout came from the alleyway.

"They're here!!!," a man shouted. Lucy began her descent but her red hair was visible as she disappeared under the ground.

"They know we're here Kevin!," she cried. He took her down off the last rungs then reached up and grabbed the latch twisting it shut.

"Buys us a bit of time." The smell of rot and decay was much stronger now and Lucy felt grateful for not having eaten all day. This odor blending with a hangover was not good for the stomach. He used the flashlight option on his phone, roaming it around the room. Dust cobwebs and empty kegs lay strewn haphazardly amongst remnant bottles and tubes for pouring the draught. Kevin took Lucy's hand in his then lead her to a short wooden staircase in the center of the room. "We'll have a better chance on higher ground" he explained. She followed him wordlessly keeping the many questions coming to mind to herself. They reached the upper level of the bar, or what was left of it. The same level of decomposition could be found in the walls, the broken counters, and the collapsing ceiling. Decades of spilled beer mixed in to make a powerful repellent.

"I don't know that we'll be that much safer here" she whispered. The man from the alley was surely going to come through any second now and there wasn't much they could do too defend themselves.

"We'll be fine" he said with a reassuring smile, but it wasn't Kevin the man speaking, it was the police officer in him trained to calm the fearful citizen. His phone was at his ear a few seconds later.

"Franky! We're in The Robert Emmet pub on North King Street. Yeah, the abandoned one! Where the fuck is my back up?" Franky must have been in a noisy environment because his voice was raised over a loud din in the background. Lucy could hear him saying they were about four minutes from their e.t.a. Kevin didn't look happy about that. "Make it fuckin one minute wouldja Franky – I've got two parasites crawling up my fucking arse right now." After hanging up the sound of the metal plate being lifted drafted upstairs. Expletives of all sorts were being pronounced at the smell of the place.

"Luce" Kevin said sharply, "they'll be coming up the stairs any second now. I want you to hide behind the bar right now and do not stand up until I come to get you. Got it?"

"What about you Hartnett? Are you going to take on two gang members with just your little gun?" The shuffling grew louder, "Go!! He whispered, 'Now!!!" Lucy dashed across the room to the bar then sank down low. The place was in complete darkness, her trembling body knew what was coming.

"Oye Hartnett!!!" the deep voice boomed, "Come out, come out wherever you are?" Low chuckling followed Kevin's silence. "We've got you pig and your woman – so just make it easy on yourself and surrender." Several shots were fired in quick succession followed by a huge crash. "Ya fucking brought the ceiling down on us" the deep voiced man snapped at his partner. "We could have been killed!!" He coughed as a thick wall of dust rose from the upper floor. "Just don't fookin shoot again unless I tell you to." The partner answered with a low "sorry boss."

"Hartnett!!" he called "come out or I'll just fukin spray the place with bullets!" Kevin didn't answer and the gang members, true to their word began shooting up the place. Lucy heard the popping noise of return fire then a loud groan of someone in pain. The men laughed loudly, so she knew it was Kevin who had been hit. Unable to think of him being injured and alone Lucy crawled out from behind the bar on all fours. Bullets shot in all directions tossing objects about wildly. Her hand roved over a cylindrical shaped metal object and she grabbed it then continued crossing the room to where Kevin had been standing. Only for the sound of his labored breathing that could be heard between shots she wouldn't have found him. In the darkness she reached out for him.

"Kevin, you're hurt...where are you hit?"

"Fuckit Lucy nooo" he groaned with a breathless whisper, "get back. They're mad fuckers." All the while he was talking she felt along his body for an injury. Soon enough her hands came upon warm moisture along his ribs.

"Jesus Kev, you're really hurt. I'll..." A scream erupted from her as a large hand grabbed her hair. She snatched the metal pipe just as he pulled her backwards onto the floor.

"We have your woman, Hartnett" the man taunted. "You're going to watch us have a bit of fun here." Kevin roared edging his way toward them all the while trying to empty an already empty chamber on them. They only laughed at the incessant clicks. "Make sure he doesn't get up again," the deep voice barked at the other man. Lucy was pulled to a standing position then dragged across to the bar. The giant picked her up and sat her on counter. She was shaking so badly her whole body trembled. He hadn't touched her hands and didn't know she held the pipe. His hand grabbed her face to his.

"I'm ready for you darling." She heard a zip being undone then her right hand was grabbed and pulled onto his erect penis. She struggled to pull away but he held it there.

"The new gang-boss of Dublin is gonna ride ya into fuckin next week!!" There was no way she was going to survive this. Unknown to the giant the metal pipe held in her left hand was raised high in the air and came crashing down on the side of his head with the hardest swing she could muster. As the crunching sound heralded the impact between metal and bone a swarm of lights filled the pub. Chaos ensued as men shouting and stomping with heavy boots invaded the room. She was being yelled at, something about a weapon but she couldn't grasp all that was happening. Her body was suddenly projected to the ground by two sets of hands and she lay face down in the dirt beside the now unconscious or dead deep voiced man. From the floor she yelled, "Franky, Kevin is shot. He's by the window!!!!" Warm liquid was soaking into her clothes and she realized that the smell of iron was the goon's blood soaking into her clothes. Kevin was immediately brought to the hospital but wasn't conscious when they took him out of the pub though and that really worried her. When Franky was done getting Kevin seen to she was instantly released. At the sight of all the blood he urgently signalled for an ambulance technician.

"I'm not injured" she said, "Kevin got the worst of it."

"He'll be grand" Franky said flipping a hand nonchalantly. "Now what the fuck went down here."

"Before I begin" Lucy said hesitantly "are any of those two other guys dead."

"One has already been arrested, but the other is in critical condition." Tears began to stream down Lucy's face, "right" she said "this is what happened." It wasn't until the following day that Lucy was free to visit Kevin. She would still be in her blood stained clothes, if it wasn't for the extreme kindness of the staff at the Harcourt police station. Franky made them realize how she was with Kevin in the shoot-out and they pooled some money to buy her a change of clothes, and allowed her access to the shower facilities in order to clean up. She ended up spending the night on the same couch Kevin used in the weeks following his separation from Jackie. Lucy told nobody the couch still smelled of his cologne and she cried into the cushion during the night.

## Chapter 9

When a member of the Hartnett clan became ill or needed help in any way, mounds of family members joined together to support one another. So it came as no surprise to see all of Kevin's brothers, their wives, children and Kevin's parents hovering around the hospital room. The matriarch was not keen on Lucy in any way and eyed her warily as she approached. Keeping as neutral an expression as possible, Lucy approached the clan with fear in her heart akin to what happened in the pub. Before she had a chance to say anything Ham stepped out in front of everyone and greeted her warmly with a bear hug.

"He's been asking for you Lucy" he whispered in her ear. Her eyes widened "he has? Really...?"

"S'the first thing he asked for when he woke up!"

"Can I go in and see him." A strange look crossed the oldest Hartnett brother's face "he's got someone in there, but I suppose no matter - now would be as good a time as any." Then with a gruff clearing of his throat Ham turned to the family and announced "let Lucy through there." She passed the fixed stares of Kevin's parents, but thankfully the brothers and their wives held normal looks at her. As she turned and entered the room the sight of Jackie sitting beside a sleeping Kevin made her gasp aloud.

"I'm sorry" Lucy said turning beetroot red. "I thought Kevin had... a different visitor." What Ham said and his look now became clear and she failed to understand why he had not just openly told her Jackie was here. As she turned to leave Kevin opened his eyes and called weakly.

"Luce....Luce... you came!! Thank God. Are you okay?" Jackie did a double take from Kevin to Lucy and back. The look of disgust made her face twist into a truly ugly expression, something Lucy thought couldn't be possible.

"Grand" Lucy replied from the doorway. "Yourself?" His eyes held hers for a long moment, the memory of what they went through was still very raw in his heart. "ah sure I only got a bullet in the ribs. No bother on me." A tightness formed in her throat making it very difficult to talk.

"Well I'm glad to hear you're on the mend." He turned to Jackie "can you leave us a moment?"

"You've been through enough and I'm here to look after you now." Lucy felt too uncomfortable to stay a second longer.

"Well, I'll let you get some rest now. I'll see you around."

"Don't go" he pleaded.

"Doctors orders" she lied then turned away.

As she walked out of the room and past the eerily silent Hartnett clan, Lucy swallowed the massive ball sitting in her throat. Ham had followed her down the corridor and pulled her aside.

"I'm sorry" he said "she came in and ...but...look, I know he loves you more than anything else in the world. She knows it too."

"Ham, thanks but I'm gone," is all Lucy could manage to say before having to dash away to let the tears fall.

*

At exactly the same time, Hammer Higgins laughed raucously as the young doctor pushed against the intravenous drip, which dispensed morphine at will. Life was to end bedridden in a posh manor – at least he was going out better than he came in.

The hardship and poverty he was born into had taken his mammy when she was only in her late thirties, but he had made something of himself despite the odds.

"Doctor Death they'll call you" he taunted as the doc continued to feed him more morphine . Slowly Higgins began to drift off into a drug induced sleep. But sleep would merge into deep unconsciousness then death.

Checking the gang boss' vital signs, he was happy to hear the heart at a dangerously low level. When he was sure it would stop very soon, he quickly took leave of the manor. All he had to do was get past the goons guarding the place.

*

Two weeks later Lucy stood at boarding gate with only a carry-on bag as luggage and a one-way ticket to Paris in her hand. Franky Griffin did not want her to travel, but legally there wasn't a whole lot he could do to stop her. The assault on John the ox was for now considered self-defense. She had no charges laid against her technically, was not deemed a threat to society because she had no priors, but she was a key witness to a gang attack on an Irish officer. She was allowed to travel on the condition she show up for all assigned court dates. Franky had insisted on knowing every detail about her departure, place of residence, contact number, employer etc. Unknown to Lucy, he had secretly shared this information with a still-bedridden Kevin Hartnett.

When Ham showed up at her door that morning, Lucy thought Kevin had taken a turn for the worse and blurted "Is he alright?!" He raised his palms to calm her worries, "he's on the mend. Not a hundred per cent, but will be soon - no worries!"

"That's good. I'm glad he's doing better."

"There's fear of him. He just asked me to take you to the airport and see you off s'all." Gently refusing his offer of a lift was met with a firm shake of his head which spoke volumes to the orders he was under. After inviting Ham in and offering the customary pot of tea, he spoke.

"Franky told Kevin you were going to work in Paris."

"And Kevin told this to you.... And your brothers?"

"Oh yeah! All of us knows." He caught her expression of surprise and patted her hand consolingly, "that's normal in our neck of the woods." She nodded then began to explain the why behind it knowing the information would get back to Kevin. "It's an opportunity that came along through the university."

"Like just now?"

"No, ...ahm...a few weeks ago."

"How long are you leaving for?"

"...Up to a year."

"Up to?" He smiled. "Sounds vague."

"I've signed on for a minimum of six months with the option of extending the contract for twelve months."

"Right" he said spooning way too much sugar into his tea. "And when does this job start exactly?"

"In two days."

"Two days...that's fierce quick! Do you at least have a place to stay?"

Lucy couldn't help but smile "the agency looked after all of that as part of the service they provide."

"Oh grand then. And do you know if it's a safe place to live. It could be a right dive with weirdos all over the place."

"It couldn't be any worse than what I've been through here. Anyway, I'm a big girl. I'll be fine." He winced like he didn't believe that.

"Kev's worried for ya Luce. Says you've been almost killed twice in four years an' there's only so much luck to be had." She let his reaction fall into the silence of the room. When he said nothing she tries to reassure him, "I'll be fine."

"He thinks you're avoiding everything - running away so to speak."

"I most definitely am not."

"Then what is it?"

"An opportunity."

"Alright – I think he just wants to make sure you're okay...." She was far from okay, but kept the nightmares and flashbacks to herself. Dao-Ming said she'd try and find a similar center for Lucy in Paris and would transfer the information from her file there.

"He really wanted to be here, you know but we said we'd send him back to the hospital if he got out of bed."

"When did he get out of hospital?"

"Not out yet. In a few days time." Lucy really wanted to know where he was going to stay afterward but guessed it was with his wife.

"Oh good," she answered distractedly. Ham spoke with a wry grin, "he'll be staying with me even though it will mean a never-ending stream of people through the house. It'll be like feckin O'Connell Street." She wondered if Jackie was part of the gang visiting, but banished those thoughts with a shake of her head and filled his cup again.

One hour later they were making their way to departures as the first boarding call for her flight was announced on the P.A. Ham seemed to know every employee they met and managed to get special permission as a non-passenger to accompany Lucy to the transition lounge. Beyond that was immigration and he stopped, knowing he couldn't go any further.

"Ham...thanks so much" Lucy said pushing the tote's straps onto her shoulder.

"For nothing" he replied with a smile, his eyes checking his phone for the hundredth time. Thick fingers quickly tapped out a message and Lucy felt she had already taken up enough of his time.

"Well, I'll let you to it then. I suppose I'll see you when I get back."

"Six months is a really long time to be gone away."

"Right now, I feel it isn't long enough."

"They won't get away with this....Kev'll make sure of it. He'll make it safe for you again." Lucy saw Ham's confidence in his brother's conviction. She saw their dissatisfaction at not getting the monsters who could do such a thing to people. Quelling the tight knot in her throat she smiled and asked, "did he mention the spare key to the house?" Ham pulled it out of his pocket. "Almost forgot about that" he said handing it to her.

"Tell him to keep it."

"You want him to stay at your place?"

"Of course, I want him. To stay there, that is. It's not a problem."

" _This is a final boarding call for flight A829 to Paris Charles-de-Gaulles_.

"I'd better go."

"Luce, can he come see you...when you get settled-in that is? You know - bring you a bit of soda bread every now and again." Lucy pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"I'm not good for his health," she chuckled. "I should come with a warning label." then trotted off to the boarding gate.

" _Passenger Courtney you are delaying flight A829. Please proceed to Gate nine or your baggage will be off loaded_
