Flawless(92)

“Where? When?” Kieran asked.

“They’re going to call. They told me to get here, to find you and then they’d call.”

They suddenly heard a loud crash from behind the bar.

“I knew that guy wasn’t a bartender,” Declan muttered. “Stay here,” he told Gary and Kieran. Then he met his sister’s eyes. “And don’t you do anything—anything—until I’m back.”

As soon as Declan was gone, closing the door behind him, Gary lunged across the desk.

He was reaching for Declan’s letter opener.





CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

CRAIG SAT ON THE sidewalk just down the street from Finnegan’s, an empty cup from a fast-food restaurant at his side.

He had a ukulele with him that he’d gotten as a gift when working a case in Hawaii seven years ago. He couldn’t play it, of course. He only knew the practice notes that came out “my dog has fleas,” the way he’d been taught to play.

He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or insulted that a fair amount of change, and even a few dollar bills, had been tossed into his cup.

He continued to strum the ukulele, singing ridiculous songs and pretending to be very drunk.

And watching.

Always watching.

He watched as Declan started to close the place and the customers left, and he nearly jumped to his feet when Gary went rushing past him.

But he saw the cops at the door and forced himself to wait, still watching.

Gary hadn’t been there five minutes before a couple walked by him, their faces hidden, the man’s by a hat pulled low over his eyes, the woman’s by her hooded cape.

They went straight to the door of Finnegan’s, which he knew was locked at that point, but then the man took something out of his pocket.

A key?

Who the hell had a key to Finnegan’s except for a Finnegan?

Craig leaped to his feet, but the couple was already inside. And the second they were in, he heard a sound he knew all too well: gunfire. Muted by a silencer.

Craig raced inside, trying to assess the situation. The couple, both of whom were carrying guns, had taken everyone by surprise. He still couldn’t make out their faces, but he was sure he knew who they were.

The gunmen were ordering the cops and Marty to lower their guns. Just as they started to comply, Declan came hurrying out from the back office, and both guns swung in his direction.

Craig started to talk, slurring his words as if he were drunk. “Hey, what is this place? A pub or a movie set? Hey, lady, you look like that actress—what the hell was her name? Betty Grable? No, no... Clark Gable? Hell, no, he was a man.”

He succeeded in confusing them, if only for a moment, and that would have to be enough.

“Shoot the damned drunk,” the man snapped.

Jimmy McManus. Jimmy, who had shot himself for effect, then dismissed his bodyguard and left the hospital without being discharged.

Craig poured on the speed and crashed into the woman, taking her totally unaware. They crash-landed in a pile right in front of the bar. Her gun went flying beneath a stool.

One down, one to go.

A shot was fired, but Craig realized with relief that it went straight into the air.

“Someone get that stupid drunk out of the way!” Jimmy ordered. His voice was different from his usual friendly tone, cold as ice. “Now—or I start killing people. I want Kieran. I want her out here now.”

“McManus, you can shoot everyone in here, but I will not let you kill my sister,” Declan announced.

“You can’t kill all of us,” Marty said boldly.

Another shot rang out, and Marty screamed as blood oozed from his shoulder.

“I’m a crack shot, and yes, I can kill all of you,” McManus said. “Now drag the drunk back there with the rest of you and get Kieran Finnegan out here.”

*

“Gary, you bastard,” Kieran snapped, slapping her hand down on the letter opener before Gary could reach it. “You bloody bastard.”

He looked at her, tears streaming down his face. “I wasn’t going to use it on you. I was going to use it on myself.”

Looking into his eyes, she believed him.

But before she had a chance to tell him to stop being a drama queen, she heard shouting and then...gunfire? Adrenaline raced through her as she realized someone was shooting up the bar!

She hurried out to see what was going on and froze.

It was like something out of The Godfather crossed with the Three Stooges. A man in a fedora was standing there with a gun trained on Marty and the cops. Then he looked straight at her and she gasped.

Jimmy McManus.

Meanwhile Declan was trying to help some drunk off a woman in a cape.

None of which mattered because Jimmy was staring at her with hatred, and his gun was aimed at her heart.

“Kieran, precious Kieran, pride of the entire Finnegan family—and the stupid bitch who ruined everything,” he said.

“Jimmy, you piece of dirt. I don’t know how I ruined everything for you, but I’m glad I did.”

“My gun,” the woman on the floor muttered. “Where’s my gun?”

Jimmy didn’t even seem to hear her. He was completely focused on Kieran. “You knew...you heard things—you f*cked everything up.”

“I wish I had heard things. Then you could have ended up behind bars sooner,” she told him.