CHAPTER 34

I held an ice pack to my jaw with one hand, a Guinness in the other. Donahue sat across from me at a small table in his dark restaurant, a candle flickering between us. After twenty minutes of shouting at each other, I had managed to convince him of my innocence.

“Did I say I’m sorry, Jack?” Donahue said in his Irish brogue.

“Yes. You did.”

Donahue sighed.

“It’s okay, Mike. I understand. And no harm done.”

A waiter brought my dinner, a plate of chops and chips, and put it down in front of me. I refused another drink, looking at my plate with two minds.

One, I hadn’t eaten in a long time.

Two, I wanted to throw up.

The dinner was Donahue’s peace offering, so I put down the ice and picked up my cutlery.

“She was sad,” Donahue said. “We talked about this boyfriend of hers, in Dublin, and I think she loved him in a way, but he didn’t make her heart race. You understand what I’m saying?”

“Not in love with him.”

Donahue nodded. “Do you want me to cut your meat for you, boy-o?”

I smiled painfully, speared potatoes with my fork, and said, “She didn’t tell me that. She said she was happy.”

“Putting on a brave face, more like it,” said Donahue. “Or maybe looking to see if you’d changed your mind. If you still loved her.

“But anyway,” he continued, “I’d stopped worrying she was going to hurt herself. I never thought that someone would do this terrible thing to her.”

“Everyone loved her, Mike.”

“So why? ” Donahue asked me. He thumped the table with his fists. China jumped. Beer sloshed. “Why am I sending her back to Dublin in a box?”

I laid down my knife and fork, pushed my plate away.

“It had nothing to do with Colleen,” I said. “Someone killed her to hurt me. Someone who hates me.”

“Who was it, Jack?”

“I don’t know. Yet. I’m working on it. Whoever he was, he was a pro. He could have found a way to kill me without putting Colleen in the middle. But that wasn’t what he wanted.

“He set me up so that I would get taken down one step at a time. First, this…loss. Then humiliation. Then I’d be locked up for life. Or get the needle. That was the plan.”

“May the cat eat him. And may the divil eat the cat.”

“Copy that.”

We sat silently as the dishes were cleared.

When we were alone again, I looked into Mike’s sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Mike. I’m the one who owes you an apology. If Colleen hadn’t been involved with me, she’d still be alive.”

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