Kate Hoffmann - Liam

“It’s not what you think, Ellie.”

“Oh, no? You have no idea what I think.”

“I can imagine,” Liam said. “But it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Ellie said, tears filling her eyes. “Because it looks really bad to me. It looks like you’ve been spying on me-and taking pictures-invading my privacy-like some kind of pervert!” She snatched up the video camera, tripod and all. “What kind of pictures were you taking? Should I expect them to end up on some Internet site? Or are they just for your private enjoyment?”

Liam’s heart twisted. He’d never been good around emotional women. And once they started crying, he was completely at a loss for words. “Ellie, if you’d just-”

“I trusted you. I let you into my house. And into my body.” With a soft curse, she heaved the camera and tripod out the window, the glass shattering and falling to the street below.

Liam winced. “That wasn’t my camera,” he said. “That was Sean’s. But I guess that really doesn’t make a difference, does it?”

“Why would you do this to me?” She held up her hand to stop his reply. “Don’t bother answering. I don’t want to know. From now on, just stay out of my life.”

With that, she rushed toward the door, but Liam stepped into her path, blocking her way. “Just let me explain.”

Tears tumbled down her cheeks. “I don’t know why I thought you were different,” she murmured. “But I never expected you to be…weird. This is all just very sick and you need help.” She tried to pull away from him, but Liam wasn’t about to let this be the end of it. “If you don’t let go, I’ll scream.”

“Damn it, Ellie, let me explain.”

“Go ahead. Tell me you’re not some weirdo or some pervert. Because, coming over here, I tried to make myself believe that you were.”

“I was doing surveillance,” he said. “I’ve been watching you.”

She frowned, wiping her nose with the cuff of her jacket. “I don’t understand.”

“Sean is a private investigator and I was helping him with a case. He was hired by Intertel Bank in Manhattan.”

“I-I worked for Intertel.”

“I know. And right after you left, they discovered a quarter-million dollars of their money gone. Embezzled. And they think you did it. You and Ronald Pettibone.”

“You think I embezzled money?”

“ They do. The bank. And my brother.” He inhaled a deep breath. “If you tell me you didn’t do it, I’ll believe you.”

She stared at him for a long moment, doubt clouding her gaze. Then she shook her head. “I don’t need to tell you anything. I don’t owe you any explanation. Not after this.” She yanked her arm from his grip and hurried out of the attic.

But Liam wasn’t going to let her go. Not until he had an answer. He raced after her, taking the steps two at a time until he caught up with her on the second-floor landing. “Tell me the truth, Ellie. Did you and Ronald Pettibone steal that money?”

“Don’t come near me again. If I see you on the street or in this attic, I’m going to call the police. And this time you’ll stay in jail.”

She hurried down the stairs and Liam cursed as he heard the front door close. He fought the urge to go after her. Maybe it would be best to give her time. But he wasn’t in the mood to wait for answers. She’d never said that she wasn’t an embezzler. Had he really expected her to admit it? Hell, would it have made a difference if she had?

Liam sighed softly and started down the stairs. When he got to the street he searched the sidewalk for the video camera and found it resting against the building, one side smashed in, the tripod bent. A small price to pay for the trouble his brother had caused in Ellie Thorpe’s life.

Liam shook his head. What about Ellie’s deceit? She hadn’t denied her involvement in the embezzlement. Not once had she offered an excuse. What price would she have to pay? Ten, fifteen years in prison? And how long would it take for Liam to forget her? Somehow he suspected it could be just that long.

“I should never have agreed to this in the first place,” he murmured. “I should have told Sean to just take this job and shove it.”

Though he’d already spent some of the retainer Sean had given him, the majority of the money was still in his bank account. If he gave it back to his brother, less the cost of a new video camera, maybe then his life could get back to normal. But first he’d start by spending the rest of the afternoon and evening doing what he did best-occupying a stool at Quinn’s Pub.

He’d forget Ellie and everything that had happened between them-no matter how many pints of Guinness it took.

“SO, DO YOU LOVE HER?”

Liam sat at the end of the bar with Brian, the two of them sharing a late-afternoon meal. Quinn’s Pub was busy for a weekday, filled with all the regular patrons, the after-work crowd and a few tourists, as well. The pub had appeared in the latest edition of Roamer’s Travel Guide to Boston as one of the truly authentic Irish pubs and Seamus had been pleased with the boost in business-even if the regulars weren’t.

This afternoon Dylan was behind the bar and Brian had stopped by for some dinner before he headed for the station. A half-eaten corned-beef sandwich sat on a plate in front of him. Liam had settled for a burger and fries.

“Aren’t you going to answer my question?” Brian asked.

“Are you a reporter twenty-four hours a day?” Liam countered.

His brother grinned. “I’m used to getting the truth out of people and I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.”

Liam reached out and picked up his glass of Guinness, then took a sip. “I don’t know. I guess, until now, I really haven’t thought about it.”

“Either you do or you don’t. It’s that simple.”

Liam paused. “It’s never that simple. You know me. I need people to like me, especially women. I know what they want and I give it to them. And even after it’s over, after I’ve moved on to the next woman, they still want to be friends.”

“Sounds like you’ve been seeing a shrink,” Brian teased.

Liam pointed to a dog-eared book on the bar. “Ellie left that at my apartment. She’s always got one of these books open. Self-improvement.” He held it up. “ Ten Steps to True Love. I’ve been reading it. According to the book I’m ‘Male Type No. 4: the Consummate Charmer.”’ He flipped through the pages and read, “‘The Consummate Charmer feels an almost pathological need for feminine approval. He’ll say and do anything to complete the conquest, then will move on, finding another woman who will give him a fresh ego boost.”’

A frown furrowed Brian’s brow. “That’s not you.”

“Oh, no? Sounds pretty sick, doesn’t it?” Liam sighed. “I think it all goes back to our childhood. I’ve thought a lot about this and what happened to us when we were kids has made us into the guys we are today.”

“Now you sound like a shrink,” Brian said. “We’re Quinns. We’re not supposed to sink into self-examination.”

“Maybe so. But look at us. Conor was responsible for holding the family together. And now he spends his life trying to protect the public the same way he protected us. And Dylan, he rescues the helpless. We were helpless when we were kids.”

“And Brendan,” Brian added. “He was always trying to escape. And now he can’t stay in any one place for more than a month or two. He and Amy live like nomads.”

“I haven’t figured out you and Sean yet,” Liam said. “But then I’m new to this.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Brian said. “It’s only natural that our upbringing affected who we are. Da gone for months at a time, Ma walking out when we were so young, Conor and Dylan and Brendan raising us. And then there were all those Mighty Quinn stories.”