Flawless (New York Confidential #1)(31)

“It was a typical rush hour,” she said. “I don’t think people mean to push and shove. And most of us are wary and keep a safe distance from the edge of the platform. I think there was just a—a surge in the crowd because the train was approaching.”

She felt Craig Frasier’s eyes on her. She was lying, of course. But after what had happened the other night, how could she say she’d seen a man in a hoodie? That he’d made her nervous, so nervous that she’d moved away into the crowd?

And that she was afraid maybe she was the one who was supposed to have fallen on the tracks?

She didn’t want him to think she was paranoid.

But, she realized, given how suspicious he was of her, he was bound to read her statement to the police. Feeling as if special agent Craig Frasier could actually read her mind, she decided on a few sentences of honesty that she hoped wouldn’t sound paranoid or, worse, delusional.

“The officer asked me if I saw anything suspicious. I told him that I saw a guy in a hoodie,” she said, “and then I looked away and he was gone when I looked back up. I don’t think he pushed the girl, though, even though people were saying someone did. I think he just made me nervous because of the other night, and it worries me. It’s spring. Lots of people wear hoodies this time of year. I didn’t see anything, so I just don’t know.”

That was the truth. How did the man manage to make her feel so off-kilter, even when she was telling the truth?

She couldn’t help but look Craig’s way. Yes, he was watching her assessingly.

They pulled up in front of the pub just then, and Eagan pulled into a no-parking space, then tossed a permit of some kind onto the dash.

They all got out, but before they could even enter the building, Declan and Kevin rushed out, followed by a half dozen of their regulars and even a couple of curious strangers.

Kieran wanted to sink into the pavement. Once again she was hailed and cheered, grabbed and squeezed by her brothers. Mary Kathleen, with her huge green eyes and bright red hair, was right there with Declan, hugging her between them. Bobby O’Leary had actually left his seat at the bar for her, and even Jimmy—who she was pretty sure spent more time at the pub than he did working—came out to embrace her. Then again, Jimmy had made enough money so that he didn’t have to work anymore if he didn’t want to. He worked, he told her once, because he had to, or lose his mind doing nothing.

Tonight, he was with the paler of the two men from the other day, a tall man with hair so blond it was almost white. Nordic, she thought. He hugged her, as well.

Chef Rory O’Bannon, an Irishman from County Cork, and his two grill cooks, brothers Pedro and Javier Marcos, came out and took turns hugging her and praising her bravery. They’d all been with Finnegan’s for over five years and were like extended family. Pedro had once told her cheerfully that he and Javier were from the very south of Ireland, a nod to their Puerto Rican roots, though the brothers themselves had been born in the Bronx.

It seemed to take an hour before all the hugging was done and she was seated in a back corner—despite her insistence that she was fine and more than capable of helping out—surrounded by Richard Eagan, Michael Dalton and, of course, Craig Frasier.

Dalton was a nice guy who watched her with a combination of amusement, admiration and curiosity. Frasier watched her as suspiciously as ever.

After a few minutes of casual conversation, Eagan turned serious. They were there, he told her flatly, because he’d wanted to meet her.

“Your timing was perfect. I can’t believe you got to me so quickly,” Kieran said.

“Craig drove, though I insisted on the siren. He’s one hell of a driver. Traffic’s always at a dead stop somewhere in this city. I’d hate to be emergency services. They must dream about traffic at night,” Eagan said.

Does that mean you dream about vicious killers? she wondered but refrained from asking.

Her hopes that once she’d met Eagan, the three of them would drink up and leave were quickly dashed when they started asking about the menu.

“I’m starving,” Eagan told her. “No time for lunch today—nonstop meetings. What would you like for dinner, Miss Finnegan?”

“Dinner?” she asked blankly.

“A meal one eats at the end of the day,” Craig said lightly, smiling. He looked down quickly—smirking, she was certain. He was undoubtedly aware that she wanted them gone. “I’ve had the fish-and-chips,” he told Eagan. “It’s excellent. Tonight I thought I’d try their shepherd’s pie.”

“Sounds good. Shepherd’s pie it is,” Eagan said.

Danny was waiting tables tonight, and Kieran had been keeping an eye on him. Time and again she’d seen him point her out, beaming with pride.

She silently cursed whatever fate had made her the one standing closest to the girl.

Danny seemed to realize that the men were ready to eat and arrived to take their order. She didn’t feel up to eating anything and told him she would order later. The way he smiled at her made Kieran realize he’d completely forgotten that he’d stolen a diamond—or borrowed it, as he insisted—just a few days back.

She wished she could do the same.

In a way, it was nice that he was proud of her.

In another way it was terrifying. How could he forget? These men were FBI!