Love and Shamrocks: Ballybeg, Book 5 (32 page)

The boy looked at Clio curiously. “You’re her mother?”

Clio nodded. “Do you know where Tammy is? She was supposed to be staying with friends in Wexford and come back to Ballybeg today. It turns out she lied to them and left yesterday. Any idea where she might have gone? Someone she might have met?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Tammy didn’t mention running away to me. I know she had a bad breakup a while back, but she only mentioned that in passing.”

“This breakup…did she mention the guy’s name?”

“Terry. Or Travis. Or was that her dog’s name? I think it was something beginning with T.”

Seán’s heart leaped. “Trevor?”

“Yeah,” the boy’s face cleared. “Trevor. She said he was a bit older than her and that her mother didn’t approve of her seeing him.”

Clio let out a bitter laugh. “Try eighteen years older.”

Ronan’s big blue eyes grew even larger. “What? I had no idea. She never went into specifics. To be honest, I wasn’t all that interested in hearing about her boyfriend. She picked up on that. We tended to talk music and books.”

“Do you have any idea where Tammy might have met him, if she'd made an arrangement to see him in Ballybeg? Somewhere she was familiar with and wouldn’t be seen?”

Ronan considered for a second, then shook his head. “Not this time of year. The weather’s lousy. If we go somewhere after school, it’s to a café in town, but mostly Tammy and I hang out at the school library. I’d help you if I knew anything, honest. Truth be told, Tammy and I don’t know each other all that well. I like her, but she’s only been at Glencoe College for a few weeks.”

“Is there anyone else at school she might have confided in? One of the girls, maybe?”

“No way. On that point, I’m certain. Tammy gravitated toward me because she had no friends, especially not amongst the girls. She was Jenny Cotter and Roisin Quirke’s latest victim. None of the other girls wanted to be seen talking to her in case Jenny and Roisin would turn on them.”

“Okay. Thanks, Ronan.” Seán stood, and Clio followed suit. “We’ll see ourselves out. If you think of anything, however small it might seem, give me a call.” Seán slid a piece of paper onto the table.

The boy examined it before putting it into his shirt pocket. “Will do, Sergeant Mackey. Good luck finding Tammy. I hope she’s okay.”

So did Seán.

“Where to next?” Clio asked when they were back in the car. “Should we try the train station? She was strung so tight he thought she might snap.

He gunned the engine and pulled back out onto the road. “We have to pass Clonmore House on our way to Cork City. Let’s have a look to see if she left some sort of clue in her bedroom. A diary, a note, something.”

“Okay.”

They were silent for the rest of the short journey back to Clonmore House. Seán keyed the security code into the gate and they drove through. Intent on reaching their destination as quickly as possible, the meandering twists and turns of the tree-lined drive failed to impress him the way they usually did.

“What the—?” Clio said from the passenger seat.

A black BMW was parked outside the house. Leaning against the side of the vehicle, sporting biker shades and leathers, stood Lar Delaney.

“TAMMY!” CLIO LEAPED out of Seán’s car at the same time her daughter clambered out of Lar’s. She threw her arms around her and hugged her tight.

“Mum,” Tammy protested, “you’re crushing my ribs.”

“I’ll crush more than your ribs by the time I’m finished with you, young lady. What were you thinking when you lied to me and the Reillys? And as for you,” she glared at Lar, who was standing nonchalantly to the side, “what the hell are
you
doing here? I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, and I obeyed.” He whipped off his shades, revealing the same deep blue eyes their daughter had inherited. “Tammy showed up on my doorstep late this morning. Said she’d spent the night in my neighbor’s shed and waited until she saw me come home.”

Clio refrained on commenting on why Lar might be returning to his residence close to lunchtime. Knowing him, a night spent banging a random woman would be the most innocent reason on a very long list of possibilities.

“Why didn’t you call Clio?” Seán demanded, coming to stand behind her. “You must have known she’d panic if Tammy didn’t show up at the time she’d arranged.”

“But she did get back on time.” Lar’s smile didn’t meet his electric blue eyes. “I made damn sure of that.” He turned to Clio. “How open can I be in front of the Guard?”

“Go for it. After my recent adventures, I’d trust him with my life.”
Literally, figuratively, and every other way.

“Can I have a shower, Mum,” Tammy interrupted. “I feel icky after my night in the shed. I would have showered at Dad’s but the only clean underwear he had to offer was a pair of his own or a scrap of lace he found in the back of a drawer that had been left by some slapper. I didn’t find either option appealing.”

“I can imagine,” Clio said dryly.

“And he doesn’t have a tumble dryer,” the girl continued, an expression of horror on her pretty face, “so washing and drying the pair I had on wasn’t possible.”

“Clearly, my household doesn’t come up to scratch,” Lar said with a grin.

“All right,” Clio said to her daughter. “Go up and have a shower. But don’t think you’re getting off this lightly. I want a full explanation later.”

Tammy sighed and made to do an eye roll but caught herself in time. “Okay, Mum. Just don’t yell at Dad. It’s not his fault I snuck off to Dublin.”

After Tammy ran upstairs, Clio led the way into the living room. She noticed Seán was very careful to position himself on the sofa beside her. The feel of his warm thigh against hers was comforting.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded once Lar had settled in the armchair opposite. “Why didn’t you call me the instant Tammy showed up on your doorstep?”

“Because she was crying and obviously distraught. I was more concerned about getting her in out of the rain and hearing what she had to say.” He crossed his muscular arms across his equally muscular chest. “For all I knew at that moment,
you
were the cause of the problem.”

“And you’ve since established that I wasn’t the cause of her tears?”

He nodded and his mouth took on a grim twist. “She told me about that fucker O’Leary. She told me the whole damned story. And she also told me she had a shrewd notion you had something to do with him getting the shite beaten out of him.”

Clio felt Seán’s hand on hers. “That’s right. In a moment of incredible stupidity, I called Ray Greer. I wanted his men to intimidate O’Leary. A show of muscle, that was all. I didn’t expect them to beat him up.”

“In that case, you’ve been out of the life too long, Clio.” Lar’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “Men like Greer’s crew don’t show a bit of muscle and say a few harsh words. They’re trained to behave like attack dogs. Most come from backgrounds crappier than anything you experienced during your couple of years of slumming it, and you handed them a pedophile. Did you seriously think they wouldn’t take that as an open invitation to work out all their childhood grievances? Frankly, I’m surprised the man is still alive.”

“Want to know what’s really ironic? I almost called
you
the day the police told me that prick wouldn’t be brought to trial. The only reason I called Ray instead of you was because I was afraid you’d kill O’Leary.”

A muscle in Lar’s cheek flexed. “I probably would have.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Seán said and put his hand over hers.

The gesture did not go unnoticed by Lar. He looked from one to the other of them and smirked. “I wouldn’t have seen you hooking up with a Guard, Clio. Your taste must have changed.”

“Improved at any rate,” she said in a mild tone but the barb hit home.

His smirk widened. “Touché.”

She gave an internal eye roll. Lar was insufferable at the best of times, and today definitely didn’t qualify. “While I appreciate you bringing Tammy home, I’d rather you left.”

“I’m sure you would, but I’m not going anywhere until I know my daughter is safe.”

“Trevor O’Leary got out of the rehabilitation center ten days ago,” Seán said, “but he’s still in a bad way. I don’t think Tammy has anything to fear from him.”

“Hopefully by the time his physical health has improved,” Clio added, “she’ll have gotten over her infatuation.”

“From the conversation I had with her this morning, I get the impression that she’s moving on.” Lar leaned forward in his seat, suddenly serious. “But O’Leary isn’t the danger I’m worried about. How much do you know about Ray Greer, Sergeant Mackey?”

“Enough to know that I’d very much like to get my hands on him.”

“I’m not going to tell you how I know this, so don’t bother asking. Ray Greer has been winding you all up. The heat has been building on him for a while. He’s a slippery bastard but a smart one. He knows it’s time to get out of Ireland and try his luck elsewhere.”

“We have people prepared to squeal on him,” Seán said frowning, “but Greer has weathered worse scrapes than this with the help of his expensive lawyers. Why would he run this time?”

“Ah, sergeant.” Lar’s smug smirk was back in place. “You’re an innocent lad at heart. Why do you assume the heat I’m referring to is coming from the police?”

Seán and Clio exchanged a significant look.

“He’s in trouble with someone from the criminal underworld?” she asked. “Who?”

“That’s a question neither of you want answered. Trust me.” Lar steepled his fingers, his intense stare never wavering. “Let’s just say that Greer pissed off the wrong man.”

After a moment’s of loaded silence, Seán asked, “What do you know about the break-in on Friday?”

“Ray plans to fly the coop, but is short of funds. To finance his getaway, he needed portable valuables such as Clio’s mother’s antique leopard and the cash Aidan Gant hid in Clonmore House.

“Do you have any idea where Ray is right now?” Clio asked.

Lar’s grin widened. He whipped his smartphone from his shirt pocket, touched the display, and shoved it in front of their faces. “See this island? Until six months ago, it was a nature reserve. Your local council managed to push through new zoning plans to reverse the reservation order and have since sold it for a tidy sum. The new owner is building himself a holiday home, but had to put the construction on hold over the winter months. Ray paid off the security guys who are meant to be guarding the building site, and he’s been using the island to hide whatever cash and portable valuables he can get his paws on.”

“I had no idea Inish Glas wasn’t still a nature reserve.” Seán raised an eyebrow. “You don’t happen to know about any other rezoning plans that the local council want to push through?”

Lar laughed. “Oh, yeah. Aidan Gant convinced several councilors to make a push to sell the communal land where there’s a halting site. I don’t know the particulars but they wanted to build something on it. There’s supposed to be another plot of land toward Cobh where they hope to do something similar.”

Clio shook her head. “And you know about all this because?”

“Nothing sinister there. Gant mentioned it to me last year.”

A clever deflection if ever there was one. “Back to this island,” she said. “Are you sure Ray’s there at the moment?”

“Not one hundred percent, but he’s definitely not in Dublin. My sources tell me that he was planning to take the proceeds of the robbery on Saturday and sail to France.”

Seán handed the phone back to Lar. “It would be easy to conceal a boat on the far side of the island.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” Clio demanded. “If you’re willing to share the info with the police, why didn’t you do so before the break-in?”

“First, I didn’t know about any of this until I made a few phone calls this morning. I was aware that Ray had a mole in the National Bureau of Criminal Investigation. I did not know that said mole broke into your house on Friday night. Second, I wasn’t aware that Ray was threatening Clio. I don’t want that motherfucker anywhere near my daughter.”

“So what’s the plan?” Clio asked. “Call in the coast guard?”

Lar shook his head. “No way. I brought you the information. I want to be there when you catch Ray.”

“Out of the question,” Seán said. “Leave this to the police.”

“Unfortunately for you,” Lar said casually, “I’ve waited to tell you about this until the last second. If we don’t find a boat within the next fifteen minutes, Ray will be long gone.”

“You absolute prick,” Clio exclaimed. “No wonder you took your sweet time escorting Tammy back to Ballybeg and didn’t bother trying to call me. Where are we going to find a boat at such short notice?”

“Buck MacCarthy,” Seán said, leaping to his feet. “Come on. There’s not a second to waste.”

“HAULED AWAY FROM my pint! It’s a disgrace,” shouted a drunk and belligerent John-Joe. “This is police brutality.”

“And on St. Patrick’s Day of all days,” muttered Buck as he steered his boat toward Inish Glas.

“Ah, quit whining, lads,” Seán said with a wink. “Sure isn’t this a bit of an adventure?”

John-Joe crossed chubby arms over the orange life vest and scowled at his nephew. “I only like adventures that pay cold, hard cash. Somehow, I don’t see this jaunt being to my financial benefit.”

“See it as your contribution to public safety,” Seán said with a grin. “And you never know, it might help to sway the judge in your favor when the guns and
poitín
business comes to court.”

Lar Delaney, swagger undiminished by his bulky life vest, eyed the captain of the ship dubiously. “Is this boat seaworthy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” Buck shouted over the roar of the engine. “And if that Dublin fecker disagrees, he can swim to the island.”

Seán laughed. “That’s you told, Delaney.”

The other man gave an exaggerated sigh and sat on the seat next to Clio.

“Ugh,” she moaned, clutching the side of the boat. “Are we there yet? I think I’m going to hurl.”

“I told you to stay ashore with Tammy and Travis,” Seán said, shaking his head. “You threw yourself onto the boat.”