Conor

were first married. We didn’t have much money so I had to decorate on a budget. I must have picked it up then.”

“At a rummage sale?”

“What difference does it make? It’s just a cheap little thing, but I always thought it made a pretty vase.”

Olivia pushed up from the table. “Would you mind if I borrowed this for a while?”

Geraldine’s brow wrinkled in confusion but she nodded. “Why, certainly. In fact, if you’d like it, you can have it.”

Olivia shook her head. “I-I don’t think you want to give this to me,” she murmured. Excitement pulsed through her, the same thrill she got whenever she found a hidden treasure. She’d wondered if she’d ever get that feeling back again, and here it was, as if it were simply part of her nature. “I have to go into Boston, but Conor has the car.”

“Is there something wrong?” Sadie asked.

“No,” Olivia said. “In fact, there might be something really right. I just need to check it out first. Can one of you take me to the train station?”

“What is it, dear?” Sadie asked.

“It’s this,” Olivia said, holding up the tankard. “Geraldine, I think this might be very valuable. I’m not sure yet, so I have to check some books.”

“Valuable?” Geraldine said. “That old thing? How valuable?”

“Very,” Olivia said. She turned from the table and grabbed her purse and jacket from the couch in the living room. “So who can take me?”

Sadie smiled, then clapped her hands. “Why, we’ll all take you. This is very exciting. A valuable treasure right in our midst. Come on, ladies, let’s go. We’ll get the details in the car.” With that, all five of them hurried out the door. Olivia glanced around the apartment, then wondered whether she should leave a note for Conor.

In the end, she decided not to. It would take her an hour at the most to get downtown on the train and an hour to get back. She’d only need a few minutes at the shop and she’d have her answers. No, she didn’t need to leave a note. She’d be back in plenty of time.

FOR ONCE in his career, Conor wished he was back in a patrol car. At least he’d have a siren and lights to clear the way. But instead, he was stuck with the heap that his brother had procured, a car that shimmied over the speed of fifty and cornered as if the street were covered with Crisco.

He’d arrived home from his meeting with the brass to find the apartment empty. At first, he’d assumed that Olivia had gone over to one of the ladies’ apartments for whatever it was they did together. But when he knocked on Sadie’s door, she informed him that they had taken Olivia to the train station and that Olivia was on her way into Boston.

The first thought Conor had was that she’d somehow found out about Kevin Ford, that she wouldn’t have to testify and that their past four days together had been stolen time. He knew in his heart he shouldn’t have lied to her and the guilt had been killing him. He’d wanted to tell her the truth, been tempted to tell her nearly every hour of every day.

But after that wonderful night on the dining room table, he knew that he couldn’t let her go. She might be able to forgive him for wanting more time, but she might never forgive him for taking advantage of that time. Conor cursed softly.

He’d always had such a strong moral compass. What had happened to it? Since he’d met Olivia, he’d done things that would have once been unthinkable, bucking department regulations, falling in love with a witness, then deceiving a woman he’d come to love. But he’d done everything for the right reasons, in the hopes that Olivia might want a future with him.

Charles Street, as always, was bustling with shoppers and workday pedestrians and even a few groups of tourists. Conor double-parked, not even caring that the cops might tow the heap he was driving. He found the front door to Olivia’s shop locked. Peering through the windows, he couldn’t see anything in the dark interior except the shadowy forms of huge pieces of furniture-no movement, no light, nothing.

His heart slammed in his chest, his instincts on alert, but then he remembered there was no longer any danger. He wouldn’t find Olivia inside, lying in a pool of blood. Keenan had called off his dogs and she had nothing to fear. He pounded on the door and waited impatiently. Sadie had mentioned something about a silver tankard and a special mark. He’d assumed she’d come to the shop, but maybe she’d gone home-or to one of the museums or libraries.

Conor hammered on the door again with his fist and, a few moments later, he heard a voice coming from inside. “We’re closed,” Olivia called.

“Olivia, let me in. It’s Conor.”

An instant later, the door swung open and Olivia stood in the doorway. “Conor!”

Conor stepped by her and walked into the shop. He glanced around, curious as to what it was she did for a living and impressed by the assortment of antiques in her shop. Even in the dim light he could see the fine quality of the furniture, the careful craftsmanship. This was her world, a world completely unknown to him. Hell, he had a twenty-year-old sofa and a coffee table he’d found in the alley behind his house. He reached over and grabbed the price tag for a huge wardrobe. It cost more than he made in a year.

“I’m sorry I left,” Olivia said softly. “I-I thought I’d be back before you returned.”

Conor turned and found her staring up at him, a frightened look on her face. Good grief, she still thought Keenan was after her. And she still believed that what she’d done would bring out his temper. He never, ever wanted to see that look of fear in her eyes again.

“Please don’t be angry. I was careful,” she said.

“I’m not angry with you,” Conor replied.

“I just had to come. I wasn’t sure about the mark but I knew I had a book here to check it out.” She held up the tankard. “I thought I’d never feel this way again, Conor. Every time I remembered what I did for a living, I just got sad and depressed that it was all over. And then I saw this and I got that old feeling.”

“Feeling?” he asked.

“It’s like a little flutter in my stomach, a little lurch of excitement. Usually, I try to contain it, to tell myself that I might be too optimistic. But it’s like digging in your garden and discovering gold.”

“And this is all over a beer mug?”

Olivia sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “It’s a silver tankard. And it’s a Revere,” she said, her voice full of awe and wonderment.

“A Revere? Like Paul Revere?”

“Not like Paul Revere,” she repeated. “It is Paul Revere. He was a silversmith. His pieces have turned up in the oddest places, buried in peoples’ backyards, hidden in walls. Do you have any idea how much this is worth? There are so few of these that have survived. When an original piece comes on the market, people take notice.”

Conor stared down at her, the excitement suffusing her face making his guilt more acute. She looked so happy, so alive. She was doing something she loved, excited about the possibilities. He glanced around the shop at all the fancy furniture with the expensive price tags. This was her world. This was where she belonged and he’d kept her from this, from everything she’d loved. “Olivia, we need to talk.”

“Geraldine was putting flowers in a Paul Revere silver tankard. Do you know what this means? I can put it up for auction and everyone will come to see it here in my shop before it’s sold. The prestige of having this in my shop will do wonders to restore my reputation.” She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. “Please, don’t be mad at me. I know I took a risk but-”

“No,” Conor interrupted.

“No?” Olivia asked.

“There’s no risk,” he murmured. “That’s what I came here to tell you.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re free,” he said, the words burning in his throat. “Kevin Ford agreed to testify. Ford’s got all sorts of incriminating evidence against Keenan and his whole wiseguy family. They’re all scrambling over each other to see who can be the first to cut a deal. So you’re off the hook.”

Olivia let out a long breath, then smiled in amazement. “I don’t have to testify?”