Page 40 of Faithless Vows

The door opens without a knock. Seamus comes in first, jaw set, eyes tired. Mick follows a step behind him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. He pulls one of the spare chairs over to my desk and drops into it. Just seeing the fucker in my office gets under my skin.

Seamus goes straight to the bar cart. “Anyone want one?” he asks, already reaching for the bottle.

“Yeah.” I have a feeling I’m going to need one when I find out what brought everyone to my office today.

He pours two drinks, then comes over and takes the chair beside Da, sliding one across the desk to me. He takes a drink, then lowers the glass with a tired breath. “Look, I’ve been going over this every way I can. We’re no closer to finding my daughter today than we were yesterday. Or the day before. After a week of this, there’s no way she’s stayed out of sight this long on her own.”

Da looks at him. “You think someone’s helping her.”

Seamus nods. “I can’t come up with another explanation.”

The thought of someone helping my wife hide from me pisses me off. “But who? Alannah barely talked to anyone outside our families. And who the hell around here would risk hiding her from us?”

Seamus doesn’t answer right away. His eyes drop to the glass in his hand. “That’s just it. I don’t think whoever’s helping her is around here.” He pauses. “And he wouldn’t give a flying fuck who came looking for her.”

“Fuck,” Da says under his breath. “I hadn’t even thought of that. You think your da’s helping her hide?”

I frown. “Your da? But he’s in Ireland. What the hell could he do from there?”

Seamus looks at me. “You don’t understand my father. He’s got money, connections, people he trusts on both sides of the ocean. And he’s always been close to your wife. If Alannah needed help, he’s the first person she’d turn to.”

Da studies him. “You thinking of calling him?”

Seamus reaches for the phone and pulls it toward him before answering. “Unless one of you has a better idea, I don’t have much choice. But once I make this call, there’s no taking it back.”

No one offers one. The way he says there’s no taking it back should worry me. It doesn’t. Not when this might be the first real chance we’ve had of finding my wife.

Seamus lifts the receiver and dials zero. The dial whirs back into place, the soft clicks filling the room. A woman answers on the other end. “Get me overseas,” Seamus says.

It takes a few minutes for the call to go through. When it finally connects, static crackles through the receiver. “Da. It’s Seamus.” Seamus waits, but there’s no answer. He shifts in his chair. “How’s things—”

A deep Irish voice cuts him off. “Don’t start pretending this is a social call, boy. Tell me what you want.”

Seamus tightens his grip on the receiver. “Fine. I want to know if you’ve been helping Alannah.”

“Helping her with what?” Malachy asks lightly.

“You know damn well what,” Seamus snaps. “Helping her hide from us.”

Malachy’s voice comes back, slower this time. “Set the receiver down so everyone can hear me. I know you’re not alone.”

Seamus hesitates, then props the receiver on the desk. “All right. Everyone can hear you.”

Malachy’s voice carries into the room, thin through the line but clear. “How did I know you wouldn’t have the backbone to make this call alone?” He doesn’t wait for Seamus to answer. “I’d hazard a guess Michael is there. Cormac Byrne. And his boy.”

How the hell does he know I’m here? I look at Mick for the first time since he came in. His eyes are narrowed at the phone, his jaw tight. He’s always hated being called Michael.

“Now, what were you asking me about—ah, yes. My granddaughter.” He pauses. “You’ve the gall to call me about her after what happened.”

My mouth opens—why, I’m not even sure. To apologize? To explain? To say something that might make this better? It snaps shut when my father cuts me a look that says not now.

“Now listen to me, all of you,” Malachy says. “I know exactly how every one of you failed her.” His voice hardens. “You forget, Seamus—my reach doesn’t end at the Irish coast. I have eyes on boats before they leave the pier. Ears in rooms you don’t even know exist. And Iknew how Ronin treated my granddaughter before the last guest left the reception at the Bradford Hotel.”

Another crackle of static. “And if you ever speak to me like I’m one of your Southie bookies again,” he adds quietly, “I’ll remind you why I’m the one still standing.”

Seamus’s face drains of colour. I’ve never seen him look anything but in control—until now. Now I understand why he hesitated to make this call. Why he asked if any of us had a better lead. Why he warned us there’d be no taking it back.

“You chose Boston. You chose that life. You chose your friend.” Malachy pauses. “What you didn’t choose was your daughter.”