Carol Clark - Laced

Seamus explained in great detail. “…And this Jack Reilly’s wife’s cousin is Gerard Reilly, whose radio show I tune into when I can’t sleep. Last week I heard him say that his cousin, Regan Reilly, and her husband, Jack, were coming to Ireland for their honeymoon. Jack Reilly is head of the Major Case Squad in New York. I can’t wait to hear Gerard’s show tonight. I heard a promo for it before. Gerard’s going to have Regan and Jack Reilly on as his guests, as well as that lucky so-and-so who discovered the Claddagh rings in his basement.”

“He was a lucky so-and-so,” Danny agreed.

“Keep the radio low. I need my rest,” Kathleen instructed her husband.

“Of course, dear. I just hope I don’t fall asleep before Gerard Reilly’s show comes on. By ten o’clock I’m usually tuckered out.”

“Stay up with me in the living room, and we’ll listen together, Daddy.”

The older man smiled at his offspring and fondly patted his hand. “I’ll make popcorn. Maybe we can call in with questions.” He laughed. “It’ll be fun. I just hope I don’t fall asleep.”

Seamus Sharkey wouldn’t have slept for days if he had known that not one but two sets of criminals had been under his roof, and he had written them up in his little black book.

Sheila and Brian drove back down to Galway, this time in their rental car. They listened to the radio and learned about the note the Does had left for Jack Reilly at Hennessy Castle.

“Oh, God,” Sheila said. “Now you know they’ll be sticking around. I can’t figure out what they were doing at the Get in Shape gym today. It’s so odd.”

“Let’s not worry about it,” Brian suggested. “We’ll just stick with our plan.”

In Galway the O’Sheas bought a black wig, black cape, long black skirt, and old-fashioned white bonnet. They also purchased a black eye pencil to darken Sheila’s blond eyebrows, and pure white foundation to make her look as if she’d just risen from the grave. By the time they finished running from one store to another, it was nearly eight o’clock. They carefully loaded all their purchases into the trunk, alongside Margaret’s painting, and slammed the trunk shut.

“I feel better already,” Brian declared. “We’re moving forward.”

“I’m glad you feel better,” Sheila said, “because I certainly don’t. The woman at the wig shop made me very nervous. She asked me three times why I was buying a dark wig. You could tell she thought it looked terrible on me.”

“It’s supposed to look terrible. You’re a ghost,” Brian said practically. “Listen, the saleswoman probably felt guilty she was selling you something that wasn’t the least bit flattering. But, believe me, she was happy to make the sale. Now,” he said, looking around the busy street in the heart of Galway, “let’s grab a bite to eat.”

They found a pub that looked inviting and were seated at a corner banquette. “You picked a good night,” the waitress told them. “A couple of our young musicians will start playing in a few minutes. They’re really talented. They’ll be playing the tin whistle, the flute, the accordion…”

“Sounds great, but we can’t stay too long,” Brian informed her.

“Shame,” she said. “What can I get you?”

They ordered pints of Guinness and chicken pot pie. When the waitress walked off, Sheila whispered to Brian, “What time are we going to Margaret’s house tonight?”

“Somewhere around midnight.”

“Then why can’t we stay here too long?”

“I figured we’d go back to the castle and relax. I wouldn’t mind taking a shower. I feel a little grubby.”

Sheila rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious if we go back to the castle and then leave again so late? There’s not a lot going on in that neck of the woods at midnight.”

Brian touched Sheila’s nose with his index finger. “You’re right, short stuff. That’s why we make a good team. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Short stuff” is what Brian had called Sheila when they were kids. The childhood nickname still bugged her, but at the moment she chose to ignore it. “It’s going to look odd anyway when we show up there at one or two in the morning,” she said. “After scaring Margaret Raftery to death,” she added.

“Listen, they’ll be thrilled to see us, whatever time we get back there. Everyone else was checking out.”

“Everyone except Regan and Jack Reilly, I bet. Having them around makes me jumpy,” Sheila said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Brian said. “They’re not concerned with us. They’re busy looking for two international jewel thieves who stole May Reilly’s tablecloth.” He laughed. “I’d love to meet those two thieves. They must have some sense of humor to steal a tablecloth.”

“Hello!”

Brian and Sheila jerked their heads at the sound of a familiar voice. Regan Reilly was approaching their table! Jack was walking with an older couple toward the back of the pub.

“Hello,” Sheila and Brian both managed to say, concealing their sudden angst.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Regan said, looking from one to the other.

Sheila managed a laugh. “We didn’t think there’d be much food at Hennessy Castle tonight with everything that’s happened up there-”

“Oh, I know,” Regan said. “You didn’t check out either?”

“No, we didn’t,” Sheila croaked.

“Quick question. Jack and I are investigating the theft of May Reilly’s tablecloth. We saw your names on the list of people who ran in the Fun Run last November, here in Galway.”

“Great race,” Brian interjected.

“Do you remember anything unusual about that day? The couple we’re looking for may have run that race.”

“No,” they answered.

“We just ran the race and went right back to the hotel. It was freezing,” Brian explained.

“Well, have a good dinner. I’m sure we’ll see you back at the castle. If you think of anything, let me know.”

“We will,” Sheila said feebly as Regan hurried to join her group.

“This is a first,” Brian said. “But I think I just lost my appetite.” He was silent for a moment. “You don’t think she overheard us, do you?” he asked.

“I can’t wait to hear Gerard Reilly’s show,” Anna said anxiously, turning their high-tech stereo to the radio setting.

Bobby barely responded. He was sprawled on the couch where he had parked himself right after they arrived home. Anna had waited on him hand and foot ever since, serving him the chicken soup, cups of tea, crackers, water, cookies, another cup of soup, more crackers. He was milking his dental debacle for everything it was worth. “I’m cold,” he whined.

With a glint in her eye, Anna walked over to the chair near the couch, grabbed May Reilly’s priceless tablecloth-which was large enough to cover an extremely long banquet-sized table-and playfully covered him with it.

Like a cranky child, Bobby threw it on the floor. “It’s too heavy.”

Anna had about as much as she could take. “How about another blueberry pancake before I sit down?” she snapped.

Bobby knew immediately that he had pushed things too far. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely, reaching up his arms. “Let’s cuddle while we listen to that blabbermouth’s show.”

Anna took a moment to pout.

“Come on,” Bobby pleaded, waving his arms. “Pretty please?”

“Well, all right,” she said in a sulking tone. “I’ll turn out the lights first so there are no distractions. I want to concentrate on every word Jack Reilly says and every nuance in his voice. He was down in this area for a reason, and I’d love to know what it is-not that he’s going to reveal anything.” Anna had been a wreck since the Jack Reilly sighting outside the general store. It hadn’t bothered Bobby much. But, then again, he had slept through the whole thing.