Kevin shrugged. “He came to see me about ten days or so before the trial was scheduled to start. He was concerned for your safety. I decided to cut a deal right after I talked to him.”
She frowned, her mind troubled by the admission. It didn’t fit. “Are you saying that Conor knew I didn’t have to testify a week and a half before the trial started?”
Kevin nodded. “He and his partner worked with me to put together the deal. It only took a day for my lawyer to convince the D.A. that I had something to trade for a suspended sentence.” He stared at her for a long moment. “He’s in love with you, you know.”
“What?” Olivia asked, her gasp echoing in the silent shop.
“That’s why he was so determined to keep you from testifying. He loves you. Believe me, I know the signs.” He paused, a look of regret washing over his face. “And if I don’t miss my guess, you’re in love with him.”
The moment he said the words, Olivia realized the truth in them. She’d known in her heart how
“I-I have to talk to him,” Olivia said. “I have to see him.” She tossed aside the clipboard she’d been using for inventory, then grabbed her coat from a nearby Empire settee. “You have a key. Lock up before you leave.”
She had no idea where Conor lived, his phone number was unlisted, and she didn’t have the time to call every precinct house in Boston, if he hadn’t been thrown off the force. She only knew one place to go- Quinn’s, his family’s pub. She got the address from the phone book, then hurried out the front door. Her breath came in quick gasps as she ran down the sidewalk and she could feel herself trembling with anticipation.
She was taking a chance going to him. They’d only been apart ten days. But Olivia had to believe he cared, that, if confronted, he’d be forced to admit his true feelings. Perhaps she should play harder to get, wait for him to come to her. But she knew Conor well enough to know that probably wouldn’t happen. And now that she’d decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, she wanted their life together to start right away.
Her car was parked at home, so she grabbed the first cab that she saw and directed him to South Boston. They skirted around the edge of the Public Gardens and wound their way to the Broadway Bridge, her mind going over everything she planned to say. She still wasn’t sure how to begin. She could just blurt out that she was madly in love with him, then leave it to Conor to respond. Or she could list all the reasons why they belonged together. Or perhaps a better strategy would be to throw herself into his arms and kiss him and show him why he couldn’t live without her.
Once she crossed into Southie, Olivia peered out the windshield of the cab, squinting to read the street numbers above the taverns that she passed. Though she’d never been to Southie in all the years she’d lived in Boston, she didn’t think finding Quinn’s Pub would be difficult. It was located just off Broadway, the main thoroughfare. But then a person couldn’t spit in Southie without hitting an Irish pub.
The street was lined with cars, and as she stepped out of the cab and paid the cabbie, she could hear music drifting through the misty night air. The sound of an Irish band, a fiddle, a flute and a drum, drew her closer. Before she reached for the door, she smoothed her hands through her hair, then she drew a deep breath. No matter what happened, this moment would change her life forever.
She stepped inside and found herself in the middle of a party. The Irish band was playing on a small stage at the far end of the long, narrow bar and people stood shoulder to shoulder, talking and laughing. She glanced around, praying she’d find a familiar face, hoping that Conor would appear out of the crowd and sweep her off her feet.
“Olivia?”
She spun around to see Brendan standing at the end of the bar, waving in her direction. Relief washed over her. It was only then that she noticed Dylan sitting next to him and Sean and Brian, the twins, behind the bar. A moment later, Liam appeared out of the crowd.
She pushed through the crush of people to the spot where the Quinn brothers had congregated. Brendan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and Dylan slipped off his stool to give her a place to sit.
“I’m looking for Conor,” she said nervously. “Is he here?”
Brendan laughed. “Nope. We’re all waiting for him. This party is in his honor.”
“A party for Conor? For what?”
“A work thing. He’s back on the job,” Dylan explained. He paused, then winced as if he realized he’d probably spoken out of turn. “He didn’t tell you about the Internal Affair investigation?”
Olivia nodded. “He did. But Conor and I haven’t seen each other for a while. Since the case is done, there’s no reason to…” She drew a shaky breath. “I just need to talk to him.” She stood up. “Can you tell me where he lives?”
“You stay here,” Dylan said. He pushed away from the bar. “We’ll find him for you. Brendan, you check his apartment. I’ll stop by the precinct and see if he’s still working. Sean and Brian, why don’t you check out his favorite cop bars? And Liam, you keep Olivia company. Get her something to eat and drink. This damn party was for him and it’s about time he showed up, whether he wants to or not.”
Olivia watched as they all strode to the front door, tall and dark and each one as handsome as Conor. She turned back to Liam and forced a smile, then folded her hands in front of her on the scarred wooden bar. “I guess I’ll have a soda while I wait.”
Liam sent her a devilish smile. “You’re sittin’ in Quinn’s Pub, lassie. You’ll have a Guinness or you’ll have nothing at all.”
CONOR STEPPED OUT of his car in front of Quinn’s Pub for the second time that night. The street was dark and quiet, almost eerily so in the heavy fog. The bar had closed fifteen minutes ago, but Conor knew a few of his brothers would still be inside, ready to draw him a Guinness.
He’d been all over the city in search of Olivia. He’d even had his buddy at dispatch put out an APB on her car only to find it parked down the block from her house on St. Botolph Street. He’d stopped at her flat twice, checked the shop three times and had even knocked on Mrs. Callahan’s door, wondering if she might know anything about Olivia’s whereabouts. The landlady had regarded him suspiciously, as if he were there to return Tommy to her care. Once she was certain he didn’t have the cat with him, she grudgingly told him that she hadn’t heard from Olivia since she’d paid her rent a week ago.
He slowly strolled across the wet street toward the pub. Now that Red Keenan was incarcerated and awaiting sentencing at the Suffolk County Jail, Kevin Ford was free to go on with his life. Conor had wasted more than a few hours wondering if he and Olivia were relaxing on some tropical beach somewhere.
He’d seen that look in Ford’s eyes when he’d talked about Olivia. He had a suspicion Ford wouldn’t stop at anything to make Olivia his, in the same way Conor wouldn’t. But then Ford had the advantage of proximity. Conor cursed softly. He should never have let her go. Though his job had been in jeopardy and he didn’t have anything to offer her, he still should have grabbed for the gold ring while he had the chance.
He yanked open the front door and stepped inside the dimly lit pub. The air was hazy with smoke and the jukebox played softly in the far corner. A few stragglers still sat at the bar and in the booths near the back. Conor slid onto a stool, then waved at Dylan who nursed a beer just a few stools away.
“You missed your party,” Dylan said.
“What party?” Conor asked with a wry smile.
Sean stepped up and placed a half pint of Guinness in front of Conor. “Where were you? We’ve all been out looking for you. Geez, Con, you’re a hard man to find when you don’t want to be found.”
“I had some business to take care of,” Conor said. He reached out for the Guinness and took a long drink.
Sean wiped the bar around him with a damp towel, then tossed the towel over his shoulder. “Well, you had business here, too.”
Conor shook his head wearily. “I wasn’t in the mood for a party,” he countered. In truth, all he wanted was to find Olivia. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to make that happen.
“He’s not talking about a party,” Dylan explained. “He’s talking about Olivia.”
Conor’s head snapped up at the mention of her name. “Olivia?”
Sean cocked his head toward the back of the bar. “Brendan’s keeping her company at the dartboard. She’s been waiting for most of the night.”
“For me?” Conor asked.
