Reunited

CHAPTER NINE

KEELY SAT at the table near the front window of the bakery, her gaze fixed on the three sketches she'd laid out on the table. The bride and her mother had been discussing the merits of each design for nearly a half hour and she was starting to get a bit annoyed.

The last place she wanted to be right now was back in New York. But when she'd returned from Rafe's cabin, there had been a stack of messages waiting for her at the bed-and-breakfast. Her mother had been desperately trying to contact her. When she called home, Keely was stunned to learn that both Janelle and Kim had made a New Year's resolution-to open their own cake-decorating business. To that end, they'd both handed in their resignations before the clock struck midnight, leaving Keely with only one assistant, and a rookie at that.

So she'd rushed back home and over the past few days had been elbow deep in buttercream, working day and night to finish the jobs they'd been contracted for, and to meet with customers who had been waiting for over a month to discuss their ideas.

Keely sighed softly and glanced between the bride and her mother. What was so difficult about choosing? If it were her wedding, she'd know precisely what she wanted. She'd wear a simple silk shantung gown with an Irish lace overlay on the bodice and a fingertip-length veil. And her bridesmaids would wear deep blue if the wedding was in winter and pale peach if it were in summer. Her wedding cake would be alive with color, maybe a detailed basket-weave pattern with fresh berries cascading over the edges of the tiers, or gum paste roses with iridescent color. A small combo that played romantic dance standards would entertain at the reception and guests would dine on beef filet with a rich demiglace sauce and sauteed fingerling potatoes.

As for her groom, Rafe would be dressed in-Keely stopped herself. After all that had happened between them, how could she possibly believe that she and Rafe would ever walk down the aisle together? That was just a fantasy now, and it would probably remain a fantasy. She sighed inwardly. But he would have made a handsome groom, dressed in a morning coat and ascot with a single white rose in his lapel.

She could have been planning her wedding right now if she hadn't chosen her family over Rafe. If she had given him a chance, he might have asked her to marry him. She bit her bottom lip. What if she'd given up her only chance at true happiness? What if Rafe Kendrick was the last man who would ever tell her he loved her?

"What if I grow old alone, turn into a wretched old hag and everyone calls me the 'cake lady'?" Keely murmured.

"Miss McClain?"

Keely shook herself out of her daydream. "Yes? I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The bride pointed to the tulip cake. "This is the one. It's perfect for our spring wedding. But I was wondering if we might change the color of the tulips to go with my colors."

"Of course," Keely said. "That would be no problem. Why don't you send me a small swatch of the color and I'll match it exactly? Then you'll also need to give me your final guest count so I can size the tiers accordingly." Keely smiled, then stood. She took the cake design and rolled it up, then handed it to the bride. "You can take this with you to show your bridesmaids."

The bride held out her hand and Keely took it. "Thank you so much for agreeing to do our cake. The first time I saw one of your designs, I knew I'd have to have you for my wedding."

"A Keely McClain cake is the best," the bride's mother said. "And our Lisa Ann deserves the best."

Keely watched as the bride and her mother walked out the front door of the bakery. "Keely Quinn," she murmured. "A Keely Quinn cake is the best."

She gathered up the rejected designs, then wandered back into the workroom. Fiona was there, piping a border around the top edge of another Keely Quinn design, this one for a wedding in the style of Louis XIV. "That's supposed to be fleur de lis," Keely said. "Not rope. Rope is too simple."

"If you don't like it, you can bloody well do it yourself," Fiona said, arching her eyebrow.

Keely sighed. She had only been back home for a few days and already she and her mother were on the edge of an argument. Fiona still couldn't accept her decision to go to Boston and find her father and brothers, and had never stopped trying to convince her to stop her "foolish" quest. Yet she also seemed desperate for any news Keely might provide about her sons. Add to that her worry over the bakery and the business and she snapped at everything Keely said.

Keely picked up a pastry bag filled with icing and began to pipe the fleur de lis onto the cake. "There's something I need to tell you, Ma."

Fiona looked up. "The only thing I want to hear is that you're home to stay."

"This is serious," Keely said softly.

"What is it?" Worry suffused Fiona's expression. "Is it one of the boys?"

"No, they're fine. At least they were the last time I saw them. It's Seamus. He's in trouble."

Her mother laughed harshly and shook her head. "Well, that's not news now, is it? He always had a fondness for pushing his limits with the law."

The border her mother was piping suddenly became uneven. Keely reached over and grabbed her arm, then slowly lowered the pastry bag to the table. "This is different, Ma. He's in real trouble. He's been accused of murder."

Fiona gasped and the bag slipped from her fingers. "Murder?"

"Do you remember anything about a crew member on my father's boat who died during a fishing run? His name was Sam Kendrick."

Keely saw the subtle shift in her mother's expression, as if she were surprised to hear the name after so many years. "No," she said. "I can't recall the name."

"You must know something. Ma, a man died on Seamus's boat. Surely he must have spoken of it."

"He might have mentioned it, but that was a long time ago." Fiona picked up the pastry bag. "I don't recall the particulars. Are you going to help me with this or are you going to stand there and chatter?"

"Try to remember. It's important."

"I hope you're not planning to go back to Boston anytime soon," Fiona said, changing the subject. "Your absence has put a terrible strain on the business. We haven't booked any new clients since you left and if you don't come back soon we won't have any business next spring. The clients want to meet with you. You're the one with the reputation, not me, and they won't book with us unless they get to talk to you about their weddings."

"This is my business," Keely muttered. "And if I choose to run it into the ground, that's also my business." She paused, realizing how harsh her words sounded. "I'm not going to run it into the ground. But maybe it would be better if we slowed things down a little bit."

"I'm beginning to think you prefer Boston to New York. Maybe we should just think about picking up and moving the business there."

Keely knew her mother was simply being sarcastic. But the idea wasn't a bad one. Boston was only three hours away with decent traffic. She'd have to buy a refrigerated truck and they'd have to make arrangements to deliver the cakes on Friday night rather than Saturday morning, and she would have to travel back into the city once or-

She drew her thoughts to a halt. This was crazy! She promised herself she wouldn't fall into this trap, of fantasizing about a life with a man she could never have. If she lived in Boston, in all practicality her business in New York would be seriously affected. She'd have to build a whole new clientele in a whole new town, where people might not be inclined to spend thousands of dollars on a silly cake.

"When are you planning to tell them?"

Keely grabbed a damp towel and wiped a bit of icing from her hand. "With everything that's going on with Seamus, it didn't seem to be the right time. Just more confusion on top of what they already have. I just wish there was something I could do to help. It would make telling them so much easier."

"Lee Franklin," Fiona murmured as she continued piping.

"What?"

"Lee Franklin. He was a crew member on that run. He saw the whole thing. His wife and I were good friends and she told me what he said about the incident. Your father wasn't responsible for that man's death, Keely."

"Where is this Franklin guy?"

"I have no idea. I don't know if he's alive still." She stopped what she was doing and grabbed a pad and pencil from the table. After she'd scribbled something on the paper, she ripped the sheet off and handed it to Keely. "That's his social security number. I suppose you could track him through that."

"How could you possibly know his social security number?"

"I used to do the books for the Mighty Quinn," Fiona explained. "I made up little tricks to remember the numbers of the crewmen so I wouldn't have to look them up all the time. Lee Franklin's began with Conor's birthday and ended with our house number. His was the easiest to remember."

Keely couldn't believe what she'd been given. She jumped off the stool and threw her arms around her mother's neck, giving her a fierce hug. "Thank you, Ma. You don't know what this means to me."

"But I know what it means to me. You're going back to Boston now and you don't know when you'll be back."

"I'm going to give this to my brothers," Keely said, "and then I'm going to tell them who I am." She rushed out of the workroom then turned around and hurried back in to give her mother a kiss on each cheek. "I'll be home in a few days."

As she grabbed her jacket and tugged it on, Keely couldn't contain her excitement. With this proof, she could make a real contribution to Seamus's defense. If she helped to clear her father of a murder charge, her family would have to accept her. They'd probably welcome her with open arms.

But as she walked to her car, another thought occurred to her. If the truth was known, then Rafe would be forced to give up his vendetta against her father. And once he accepted the truth, then there would be nothing standing in their way. She could love him and he could love her.

Keely glanced down at the paper clutched in her hand, then said a silent prayer that Lee Franklin was still alive and well and living somewhere easy to find. Though she had more than a few issues riding on this, she'd deal with them one at a time. And Seamus Quinn was first up.

"I'M SURE YOU CAN see that this will be the most efficient use of this property and it will provide badly needed office space in this section of Boston. We expect that by the time it's built, we'll have eighty-five percent of the space rented and one-hundred percent occupancy within the year." Rafe pointed to the architectural drawings that were set up around the conference room on easels. "We have most of our financing in place, but we're looking for a few people willing to invest capital with an excellent return on that investment."

The conference room door slowly opened and Sylvie Arnold stepped inside. She nodded to Rafe in unspoken communication and Rafe quickly wrapped up his presentation. As the investors chatted among themselves, Rafe joined Sylvie at the door.

"It's her," Sylvie whispered.

"Who's her?"

"Her. At least I think it's her. It has to be."

"Who?"

"She says her name is Keely McClain."

Rafe tried to hide his surprise, but he knew it was evident on his face by the satisfied smile on Sylvie's.

"I knew it," she said. "I knew it had to be her. Well, I just have to say that she seems very nice."

"You know nothing," Rafe said coolly. He'd wondered if this moment would come. He also wondered how he'd react. Over the past few days, he'd resigned himself to the fact that, though he and Keely had shared an incredibly intense and passionate affair, it was now over. She'd made her choice and it hadn't been him. "Tell her that I'll have to call her back."

"I can't. She's not on the phone. She's waiting in your office. And she looks a little nervous."

"You put her in my office?"

"She said she needed to see you. And you didn't put her on the list. If you don't want to talk to or see one of your women, you're supposed to put her on the list."

"Goddamn it, Sylvie, I-"

"Ten dollars," she said, holding out her hand.

Rafe hauled out his wallet and slapped a fifty into her hand. "Keep the change. I'll need the credit for the little talk you and I are going to have later."

He walked out of the conference room and strode down the hall, straightening his tie as he walked. In truth, he really didn't want to see her. After what he'd said to her that night in front of the fire, he felt like a fool. He'd risked his heart and his pride by telling her he loved her. And now she was here to remind him of the mistake he'd made.

He couldn't put all the blame on Keely. He had never considered himself capable of love so he had hardened his heart to any emotion long ago. But in the days that he knew Keely, she'd gradually made him see that those emotions weren't gone for good, they were simply asleep. Well, after their time at the cabin, he'd decided to put them away for good. Rafe Kendrick wasn't made for love.

When he reached his office, he grabbed the doorknob, then paused. He ought to have Sylvie say that he was too busy to see her. That would be the easiest way to handle the situation. But Rafe knew how stubborn his assistant could be, especially when it meant involving herself in his personal life. She always claimed to know what was best for him and he had a sneaking suspicion that Sylvie thought Keely fell into that category. Drawing a deep breath, he pushed the doors open.

Keely stood as soon as he stepped inside. Their gazes met across his office and held, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. Why was he always taken aback by her beauty? There was something about her that drew his eyes to her face, something that he found irresistible. "Keely."

"Hi, Rafe."

Though it had only been a few days since they'd seen each other, Rafe was stunned by his physical reaction. All the old desire came rushing back and he fought the urge to cross the office, pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. His mind flashed images of their last night together, so vivid that he could barely think. "Please, sit down." Rafe walked past her and took a spot behind his desk, standing with his hands resting on the back of his leather chair. "How have you been?"

"Good. Busy. But good." She hadn't taken a seat. "I told your secretary my name was McClain. I thought it might be better than…well, I wasn't sure how much she knows." She stood next to the chair, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"What have you been up to?"

"I went back to New York for a few days to deal with some business at the bakery. Running a business from out of town has been difficult."

Rafe had almost forgotten that, under normal circumstances, Keely Quinn lived in New York and he lived in Boston. That barrier hadn't even come up in conversation, but now that he'd thought of it, it was simply one more reason why he and Keely never would have made it.

"I'm really anxious to tell my family so that my life can get back to normal," she continued.

"You haven't told them yet?"

"No," she replied with a defensive edge. "That's why I've come back. I'm going to tell them tonight."

"Everything's getting back to normal for me, too," Rafe said, changing the subject to soothe her mood.

"Good. You got back to Boston all right, I see."

"I had a cell phone in my coat pocket. I called for a car."

Keely blinked in surprise, her mouth falling open. At first, he was sure she'd react angrily. After all, the lack of a phone had been the major reason they'd spent an extra night at the cabin. But if she was upset over his deception, she didn't show it. "Good. I'm glad. And you found your car?"

"My doorman gave me the keys." Jeez, this small talk was driving him crazy. It was as if they'd just met, fumbling to think of something to say to each other. No one would have guessed that, just a few days ago, they'd been on very intimate terms, whispering wicked things to each other in the midst of passion. "Is that all you came for? To find out if I got back all right?"

"No. I wanted to give you this." She held a small piece of paper out over his desk.

Rafe took it from her, his hand brushing hers, causing a current to race up his arm. "What's this?"

"It's the name and social security number for one of the men on the crew of my father's fishing boat. His name is Lee Franklin. According to my mother, he was there when your father died. And my mother says that he knows everything that happened. She also says that my father didn't have anything to do with your father's death." Keely shrugged. "That's all I came for. I'm going to give the information to Conor so he can give it to the authorities, but I thought you should know that there's going to be someone backing up Seamus's story. You said you wanted the truth and I hope that we'll find Lee Franklin and he'll tell us what really happened." She paused. "And you'll be satisfied."

"Thank you," Rafe said.

"Well, that's all I came for." She turned and started for the door.

"Keely, I've missed you."

She froze. "And I've missed you," Keely admitted, her back still to him.

"Can I take you to lunch?"

Keely slowly turned back to him. "It's nearly four."

"Then dinner?"

A smile curled the corners of her mouth. "Maybe we should just leave things the way they are, at least until everything is resolved with my family."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Her smile wavered. "And maybe I'm not." She drew a deep breath, as if gathering her determination. "I have to go. I'll…see you."

A moment later she was gone. Rafe raked his fingers through his hair. This was not what he wanted-Keely breezing in and out of his life with no thought to when they'd see each other again, if ever. He'd always been happy-and even relieved-when the women in his life walked away. But, with Keely, an emptiness had settled in and he found himself missing her a few seconds after she'd gone.

"Damn it," he muttered. He hated this feeling of living in limbo. Either he'd have to do everything in his power to keep her in his life or he'd have to walk away. He couldn't stand this indecision. "So what will it be?"

He glanced down at the paper he still had in his hand. If Lee Franklin could prove Seamus's innocence then he'd have to do his best to find the guy and bring him to Boston to tell his story. He strode over to his desk and pushed his intercom button. But rather than answer, Sylvie came running through his office door.

"Yes?"

"I want you to call Stan Marks in security and have him come up here right away. I've got a job I need him to do."

"And…?" Sylvie asked, a sly grin quirking her lips.

"And what?"

"How did it go? She seems very nice. And pretty. Not your usual type."

"And what's my usual type?"

"Bitchy rich women," Sylvie said. "And that's not a curse word. That was an adjective. This one seems nice. The kind of woman you'd marry."

"Yeah," Rafe murmured.

"Yeah?" A grin broke across Sylvie's face. "You are smitten. I've never seen you smitten before. It looks good on you."

With that, she turned and walked out of the office, leaving Rafe to ponder the true meaning of smitten. At one time he would have considered Sylvie's comment an insult, but now he took it as a forgone conclusion. Somehow he'd managed to fall in love with the one woman in the world that he shouldn't have.

KEELY STARED UP at the facade of the District Four Police Station. She'd called nearly every station house in Boston until she'd located Conor's, then managed to find out when his shift ended. If she just hung around the front door, Keely was certain she'd see him as he left. She glanced at her watch. His shift was over at six and it was nearly six-thirty. Maybe she'd missed him. Maybe he'd parked in the back. Maybe he'd-

"Keely?"

She spun around to find Conor standing on the sidewalk just a few feet away. He always seemed so serious and intimidating. Keely swallowed hard. This was it. This was the moment she had been waiting for. "Hi. How are you?"

Conor frowned. "I'm fine. What are you doing here? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No trouble. I'm fine." She shook her head. "I-I have something for you. Actually, for Seamus. Liam told me what was going on my last night at the pub. I know the police are investigating Seamus for a murder and I know he's innocent. And I thought you might be able to use this to prove it."

"I don't understand."

"Lee Franklin was one of the crew members on the boat. That's Lee Franklin's social security number. From what I understand, you can trace a person's whereabouts by their social security number, right?"

Conor stared at her in disbelief and snatched the paper from her fingers. "How do you know about Lee Franklin?"

She forced a smile. "I know a lot of things."

"How did you get this?"

Keely took a deep breath and tried to stop her heart from hammering. It was time. She'd waited so long but now it was finally time. "My mother."

"All right, how does your mother know?"

"She used to do the bookkeeping for your father's fishing boat." Keely bit her bottom lip. Just say it! He was ready to hear it-she just had to get it out. "And-and she was also married to your father." Keely waited for the impact of her claim to sink in.

Conor shook his head. "My father was only ever married to my mother."

"Yes, I know," Keely said. "Your father is my father. And my mother is your mother. My name is Keely Quinn and I was born six months after Fiona Quinn walked out of your life." That last came out in an unbroken string of words. But once it was out there, Keely wished that she could take it back. That she could have said it with more patience.

For a long moment, he simply stared at her, his expression filled with astonishment. Then he turned and walked five or six steps down the sidewalk. Keely held her breath and waited for him to stop, to say something-anything-that would give her a clue to his real feelings.

Conor spun around. "This is crazy. It can't be. My mother is dead and I don't have a sister."

Keely reached for the claddagh pendant, pulling it out from beneath her sweater. The emerald sparkled in the light from the streetlamps. "My mother gave me this. She said Seamus would recognize it. Do you recognize it?"

Conor gasped, then hurried back to her. He reached out and held the pendant between his fingers, rubbing the emerald with his thumb. "I do. My mother used to have a necklace just like this. She never took it off." He let the pendant drop. "He told us she was dead. We didn't want to believe it, but after a while it made sense. She never tried to contact us."

"She's not dead," Keely said. "She's living in New York City. She moved there after she left your-I mean, my…our father. That's where I was born."

"She's alive?" Conor asked, his voice filled with amazement. "My mother is alive?"

Keely felt tears press at the corners of her eyes. She knew what Conor was going through right now-to be told he had a sibling and then to be told that the parent he thought was dead wasn't. "I took the job at the bar so I could get to know you all. I didn't mean to deceive you, but I wasn't sure how you would react to the news. At first, I was going to tell you as a group, but then I got scared. Besides, now that the bar is closed, I wasn't sure when you'd all get together again."

Conor grabbed her arm. "You have to come with me," he said, pulling her along the sidewalk.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm supposed to meet my brothers at the pub. The contractors are starting work in a few days and we've got to clear everything out. Sean and Liam are probably already there. I want you to tell them what you told me."

Keely dug in her heels, pulling him to a stop. "I'm not sure that would be the best-"

"What are you talking about?" He laughed. "You're our sister. And it's sure as hell time everyone knew."

She shook her head. "Why don't I meet you there?" Keely countered. "I have my car and I need a little time alone to work up my courage." She drew a deep breath. "I have to say, this went pretty well but who knows how they'll react?"

Conor smiled. Then his smile faded slightly as he stared at her. "My God. I remember that first time we met on the sidewalk outside the pub. There was something about you that looked so familiar. It was your eyes." He hooked his finger beneath her chin and turned her face up to the streetlights.

"They're the same color as yours," Keely said.

"That shows you what a great detective I am. I didn't even notice." He stared at her for a long moment. "I just can't believe you're real. And that you're here after all these years."

"I can't either." She laughed softly. "If you only knew the time it took me to work up the courage to tell you this."

"Well, I can assure you that the rest of my brothers are going to be happy to hear what you have to say."

Keely winced. "Maybe you should break the news to them."

He took her hand in his and gave it an encouraging squeeze. "No. I think it's better coming from you. My car is parked just down the street. I'll meet you at the pub and we'll tell them together. How's that?"

She never could have imagined that it would go so well. Telling Conor had seemed so easy-too easy. Perhaps there was trouble yet to come. But if there was, she'd have to face it. "That would be good. I'll meet you at the pub."

Keely was almost reluctant to leave him, but she needed time to herself, time to regroup and gather her courage again. At least she had Conor behind her. From what she could tell, he seemed to be the unofficial head of the family, the brother whom the others turned to when a disagreement needed to be settled. If he wanted her in the family, then he'd find a way to convince the others she belonged.

Keely hurried to her car and climbed inside, then clutched the steering wheel. So many emotions whirled inside her. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. "Hello, I'm Keely Quinn." For the first time, she could actually say the words and have them mean something. It was no longer a dream. She was Keely Quinn. As she started the car, she drew a deep breath. By the end of the night, she'd have a family.

The drive to the pub passed in a blur, her mind occupied with thoughts of what was to come. She felt a little dizzy and light-headed and wondered if she should have accepted Conor's offer of a ride. But then Keely opened a window and let the cold air rush inside, clearing her head. Once she met her brothers, she'd have to call her mother. And then she'd call-

Keely stopped herself. She couldn't call Rafe. Though she longed to hear his voice, he wasn't a part of this. Drawing him back into her life for her own selfish motives wouldn't be fair. Once she straightened out her family life and Seamus's legal problems, then maybe she could turn her attention back to her love life.

When she pulled up to the pub, the street was nearly empty. She saw Conor sitting on the steps, his shoulders hunched against the cold. He really was a nice guy, so solid and dependable. It was good to have him on her side. Keely regretted that she hadn't had the chance to grow up knowing him. She imagined she could have learned a lot from her oldest brother.

But then maybe she'd always had a part of him with her. She'd been a Quinn since the moment she was born. No matter how hard she tried to be her mother's daughter, Keely suspected that she'd been her brothers' sister first-emotional and impulsive, stubborn and determined, a Quinn to the bone. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she fit somewhere.

She stepped out of the car and slowly approached Conor. He stood and smiled. "Are you all set?"

Keely nodded. "I guess now is as good a time as any."

Conor took the front steps two at a time, then pulled open the front door. Keely stepped inside the brightly lit pub, a tight smile pasted on her face. The jukebox blared a raucous Irish tune and no one noticed her arrival. But when Conor shouted, they all turned.

"You want to shut that thing off?" he yelled.

Liam reached for the volume control behind the bar and turned the music down. "Hey, Keely! What are you doing back here? I figured by now you'd have a job at another joint."

Keely smiled. "Not quite yet. The market's pretty tight for really bad waitresses."

"Keely came here to tell you something," Conor said. "Go ahead, tell them."

"I can't just blurt it out," she murmured, her face warming in embarrassment.

"All right," Conor said. He took Keely's hand and dragged her over to the bar. Then, grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her up and set her on the edge. The brothers gathered around, curious at his behavior. "Tell them your name," Conor ordered.

"We know her name," Brian said.

Keely shook her head. "No, you don't. Not my real name. It's Quinn. Keely Quinn."

Five brothers reacted the exact same way-with mild shock. "Are you a relative?" Dylan asked.

"Definitely," Conor said. "Look at her eyes."

They all stepped forward, staring at her as if she were a bug in a jar. Keely smiled weakly. One by one, realization dawned and their expressions turned from curiosity to disbelief.

"Holy shit," Liam murmured.

"What the hell?" Sean said.

Conor cleared his throat. "Keely, tell them who your mother is."

"Fiona McClain."

"And your father?"

She swallowed hard. "Seamus Quinn."

Conor nodded, a wide grin splitting his face. He turned to his brothers. "Keely is our sister."

His announcement was met with dead silence. "We don't have a sister," Brendan finally said. "How the hell could we have a sister and not know about it?"

"Show them the necklace, Keely."

With trembling fingers, she reached beneath her sweater and pulled the claddagh out. Dylan stepped closer. "I remember this. She always wore it. And when she'd tuck us in at night, it would hang from her neck and I'd twist my fingers around it and hold her there until she kissed me again."

"I have a picture of her wearing that necklace," Sean said.

They all turned to look at him. "You have a picture of our mother?" Conor asked.

He frowned. "Yeah. I took it before Da threw everything out. I wasn't about to tell you guys. You would have pinched it first chance you got." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, then withdrew the tattered photo. Keely's brothers passed it around the circle, staring at it long and hard.

"I have a picture, too," Keely said. She reached into her purse and withdrew the photo Maeve Quinn had given her in Ireland. The brothers passed it around. "That was taken right before you left Ireland. Liam, you weren't born yet. And, you can see, my mother is wearing the necklace."

"I remember this day," Conor said.

"She was so beautiful," Brendan murmured.

Keely nodded. "She still is. She's alive and she's living in New York."

Suddenly, five pairs of eyes were riveted on her face. "Say that again," Dylan demanded.

"I know it's probably hard to believe. Conor told me you thought she was dead. And I'm not sure I can explain my mother's motives for walking out on you all. You'll have to ask her that yourself. But she is alive and I think she'd like to see you, if you're willing to see her. I don't think you've ever been out of her thoughts, not for one single day."

"She left us with a drunk," Dylan said, a trace of bitterness in his words. "Do you have any idea what it was like growing up in that house? She never called, never even bothered to check on us."

Conor held up his hand. "That's not Keely's fault. She had no control over our childhood. So maybe we should take up those issues with our mother and not her."

They all nodded and Keely relaxed, grateful they weren't going to punish her for her mother's mistakes. "I'm sorry I waited so long, but I wasn't sure how to tell you."

Brendan stepped up first and drew Keely into his arms, giving her a gentle hug. "Welcome to the family, little sister." He laughed. "Imagine that. The Quinn brothers with a little sister. I suppose we're going to have to start watching our language when you're around."

"Keely brought some other news," Conor explained. "She gave me a lead on one of the crew members who was on the Mighty Quinn when Sam Kendrick died. A lead that her mother gave her."

Keely nodded. "My-our mother remembered that there was a Lee Franklin on the boat and she told me that he knew what had happened. If we can find him, he can tell his story and clear Seamus of Kendrick's murder."

"Speaking of Kendrick…" Sean said. Reaching over to the bar, he grabbed a file folder. "I've been doing a little investigating." He held up a photo he took from the folder. "This is Kendrick's son. Recognize him?"

Liam snatched the photo from Sean. "Sonofabitch," he muttered. "He's been to the bar. The past few months, he's been hanging out here right under our noses."

Keely's eyes went wide as the photo was shoved at her.

"Have you ever seen him?" Sean asked. "Did you ever wait on him? Did he say anything to you?"

"I think he has been in the bar a few times," she murmured, hoping that none of them remembered the night she threw sparkling water in Rafe's face.

"This is the guy," Sean said. "He's the one causing all our problems. He's some multimillionaire. He made his money in real estate. I figure he's out for some kind of revenge. But why spread these lies about Seamus?"

"Maybe he believes they're the truth," Keely said. Her brothers turned to her and she felt a blush warm her cheeks. "Not that I believe Seamus did anything wrong. But maybe that's what this Kendrick guy was led to believe. Just like you believed your mother was dead."

"If that guy ever sets foot in this bar again," Dylan muttered, "I'll punch his teeth so far down his throat he'll have to talk out of his ass."

"I think we should find this guy and beat some sense into him," Sean added.

As her brothers debated how to handle Rafe Kendrick, Keely picked up the photo and stared at the image of the man who had been her lover. She ran her fingers over each feature of his face, recalling how he really felt, the strong line of his lower lip still damp from her kiss, the rough surface of his beard when he needed a shave, the intensity of his gaze as she watched her come.

Keely drew a ragged breath. "Is it all right if I keep this photo? I might remember something later."

If she couldn't have the real thing, a photo would have to do. But it wouldn't do for much longer. Keely needed to see Rafe and she needed to see him soon.