Maybe. But Burr knew better.

  The rat was from Dorchester, and Burr had practically known him his whole damned life. The rat was Ray—fucking Ray, who was like a fucking brother to him, and it broke his fucking heart.

  A green sign on the road said that it was fourteen more miles to a place called Conway that had food, lodging, and gas stations. He needed to call Donnelley as soon as possible and tell him to warn Gunn about Ray; he stepped on the gas and didn’t let up until he got there.

  Pulling into a service station, he parked on the side of the convenience store, near the pay phone, and used his phone card to call Donnelley’s direct line.

  “Yeah? Donnelley here.”

  “It’s Burr O’Leary.”

  “Fuck.” He paused, dropping his voice to a whisper. “You’re alive.”

  “Barely.”

  “Don’t talk.”

  Burr took a deep breath and held it, waiting for more instruction.

  “Call me at 617-555-2121 in five minutes.”

  “Got it.”

  Burr hung up the pay phone and turned his back to it, looking up at the now cloudless blue sky and sighing deeply. It was getting hard to decide what was the worst part of his life right now: his sister getting shot, the price on his head, or his partner betraying him. The only bright spot in his life recently had been Tierney, but God only knew when he might see her again, if ever. None of it was good. All of it sucked.

  After five minutes, he called the 617 number he’d been given, and Donnelley answered right away. “O’Leary?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re okay?”

  “I’m…I took a bullet through the shoulder at my sister’s place, but it was a clean shot. Got it stitched up by a vet.”

  “Where are y—No! Don’t tell me. Just in case.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I talked to Seth Gunn. Someone ratted you out. Sean and Declan went to Suzy’s place to lean on her, but she didn’t know where you were. Didn’t stop them from shooting her. Heard someone suddenly arrived on the scene and shot Declan Shanahan, then disappeared. I assumed it was you.”

  Burr clenched his jaw. “I got a tip that they were at Suzy’s.”

  “Someone in the New Killeens?”

  “I don’t think so. I think it was Ray. I’m ninety-nine percent sure the rat’s Ray.”

  “Cooper?”

  “He told me to hide out at his wife’s lake house up in New Hampshire. I got delayed on the way. When I finally got there today, Fat Billy and his kid were dragging a body out of the house. The handyman. I heard Billy talking to Sean on his phone—they thought the poor bastard was me.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” said Burr. “Close call.”

  “You think it’s Cooper told ’em where you were?”

  “No one else knew.”

  “I hate to say it, but it makes sense,” said Donnelley, his voice thoughtful, like he was putting puzzle pieces together. “Last few reports I got in July and August were sloppy. Not in your handwriting either. I just thought Ray recopied them for some reason.” He paused. “And worse, some evidence went missing yesterday.”

  “Fuck!”

  Donnelley sighed. “Yeah. The slug they pulled out of Suzanne. We wanted to match it to Declan’s gun and prove he’d shot her. But someone stole it from the hospital.”

  I saw her at the hospital yesterday. She was clinging pretty hard to Connor, but you know kids.

  Fuck.

  “It was Ray. He was there visiting Suzy.”

  “Shit.”

  “Captain, I need to know…what now?”

  “Ah, son, we’re a little fucked here. If Ray was tampering with your reports and evidence, it’ll be hard for the GTU to make a case to the DA based on them.”

  Burr scrubbed a hand through his bristly hair. “But what about everything before July? What about my testimony? I can come back to Boston. I’ll do whatever you need to put those bastards away.”

  “I’ll talk to Gunn and see what they’ve got,” said Donnelley, “and yeah, your testimony will be crucial, but keeping you safe will be…well, Burr, you should know…”

  “I already heard about the bounty,” he said, looking beyond the little town of Conway to the jagged range of mountains that rose in the near distance. “I can stay put up here for a while.”

  “That’s good. You can’t show your face in Boston. Not until Sean and some of his guys are behind bars.”

  Burr took a deep breath. “You could…”

  “You have an idea?”

  “You could lean on Ray. Force him to admit that he’s the rat. Wire him.”

  “Wire Ray? For what?”

  “A confession that they killed the wrong guy at his lake house. You could get him for collusion in murdering the handyman, and maybe he could get Sean to admit that there’s a hit out on me. Attempted murder of a police officer. That’s life.”

  “Hmm. Yeah. And I’m pretty sure we can also get racketeering, loan-sharking, and bookmaking added on with your testimony. That’d put him away for a long time.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Burr.

  “You’re sure about this?” asked Donnelley. “About Ray?”

  It gave him zero satisfaction to answer, “Yeah. I’m positive.”

  Donnelley sighed long and hard. “You heard that Suzy’s gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah. Thank Christ.”

  Donnelley paused for a moment. “Hey, wait…how’d you hear? From Ray?”

  “Well, yeah. But also, a friend of mine called in to check on her, actually. Before Ray.”

  “Wait. A friend of yours called Mass General?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Aw, shit. No, Burr. That’s no good. They’re looking for you. Costs them almost nothing to pay off a hospital receptionist to make notes when any calls come in about Suzy. When Ray finds out you’re not dead, they’ll be chasing down any and all leads to find you. Who made that call?”

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Tierney.

  “Fuck,” he said, “I gotta go.”

  “Wait! Burr!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Destroy the phone. Then they can’t triangulate it. All they’ll have is a New Hampshire phone number. Can’t get too far with that.”

  “Unless they figure out who the phone belongs to!” cried Burr.

  “They’d need cell phone records for that.”

  “The kind a dirty cop could get out of the system in no time,” said Burr with a bite.

  “Ray,” said Donnelley. “You think they’ll ask him who made the call?”

  “If they haven’t already. Fat Billy was on the phone with Sean over an hour ago. He knows I’m not dead. I imagine he and Ray are talking right now,” said Burr, running a hand through his hair. “And if Sean’s pissed at Ray, he’ll do whatever he has to do to get a new lead on where I could be.”

  How far am I from Tierney? Fuck…how far away am I from her?

  “I’m calling Gunn as soon as we hang up. We’ll pick up Ray today,” said Donnelley. “Now. Before he can trace that number for them. I’ll do it myself if I have to, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t trace that number.”

  And I’ll go straight back to Tierney’s.

  “Captain, I’ve got to go. I have to make sure—”

  “Yeah. You go to your friend and warn him not to use his phone. I’ll take care of Cooper. It’ll be my fucking privilege to haul his ass into an interrogation room.”

  She. She’s a fucking “she,” and she’s brave but tiny.

  “Burr! Call me in two days on this line. Friday. At seven o’clock in the evening. I’ll let you know where we stand with everything.”

  Burr nodded. “Thank you, sir. I will.”

  He hung up the phone and ran to Suzanne’s car, praying to Jesus and God and the Virgin Mary and all the saints in heaven that the call Tierney made on his behalf hadn’t been traced…and while he was at it, he promised to trade his worthless fucking life for hers if only God would keep her safe until he got there.

  CHAPTER 6

  After a quiet lunch, Tierney headed back up the hill to the estate visitor’s center, manning the ticket booth and restocking the shelves in the small gift shop…and trying not to think about Bur—about Burr’s rumbly voice, about Burr’s lips on hers, about Burr driving away.

  Maybe this isn’t the end of you and me, aisling.

  She thought about those words most of all, playing them over and over again in her head as Anna and Shannon ran the two o’clock, three o’clock, and four o’clock tours, and Tierney, who generally enjoyed leading tours, sat behind the ticket counter in quiet misery.

  She glanced over, checking the time on the credit card machine.

  It was almost five o’clock. Ian, Rory, and Brittany would be over around six thirty.

  Maybe she’d host their weekly family dinner outdoors tonight. The stormy skies had long passed, the sun was out, and it looked like a lovely evening ahead. She could serve something simple like hamburgers and hot dogs with chips and homemade coleslaw. After work she’d make a quick trip to the supermarket in Center Harbor and be back in plenty of time to set the picnic table behind her cottage. One of her brothers could start the grill when they arrived.

  Thinking about her brothers, however, made her groan.

  Rory and Ian would start asking about Burr the moment they walked in and she dreaded it. She didn’t want to talk about him. She didn’t know if she could talk about him without embarrassing herself. In contrast to her usual stalwart self, she’d been on the verge of tears since he left, and her feelings confused her. It was like she had let something precious and beautiful fall from slippery fingers and crash to the ground. She felt sadness, of course, but that wasn’t all. It was accompanied by frustration, and longing, and regret.

  His beautiful face flashed through her mind, and she lingered willfully on the harsh planes and angles of his cheekbones before slipping her gaze to the pillowed softness of his lower lip. Her own lips tingled with the memory of his kiss, and she whimpered softly.

  It wasn’t just that he was handsome, though his dark good looks and ice-blue eyes certainly heated up her blood. He was protective and unexpectedly funny. He obviously loved his sister. And there was something else. He was struggling so terribly; he seemed to be fighting with himself—wanting to do the right thing yet somehow mixed up in something wrong. She wanted to see him triumph over whatever evil plagued him. She wanted to see the Destroyer victorious.

  The more she put the pieces together, the more convinced she was that Burr worked in some sort of law enforcement capacity. The St. Michael medal aside, there was the small speech he’d made before leaving her: …my being here could put you in danger. I won’t let that happen. I can’t. Hardly the sentiment of a seasoned criminal.

  Still, she wondered who shot him and why, and worried they’d try it again. Turning her thoughts to St. Michael, she said a quick prayer for Burr’s safety: Wherever he is, keep him safe. She paused, then added, And if it’s your will, please send him back to me. Amen.

  “Tierney.”

  Her eyes flew open.

  “Burr?”

  Taphadh leat, Sceilig Mhichíl!

  “Hi,” he said, and his face, which was marked with worry, seemed to relax just a little, the lips that had kissed hers a few hours ago tilting up slightly as he scanned her face.

  “Hi,” she answered, feeling a smile split her face, followed by a little chirp of surprised laughter. “You left. What are you doing here?”

  “You never showed me the museum,” he said, glancing at the entrance over his shoulder. “I thought I should swing back and see it.”

  She shook her head at him. He was kidding, of course, but she didn’t care. He was here. He was back. “Oh. Well, the last tour was forty-five minutes ago. You missed it.”

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “There’ll be more tomorrow,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound desperate but aching for more time with him.

  “How about a private tour?” he asked in a low voice, making goose bumps rise up on her arms under her cream-colored Irish-knit cardigan.

  “Well, um…we can see about that—”

  “Hey, can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

  “Sure,” she said, pulling it from her back pocket and holding it out to him.

  He took it from her, smiling in thanks, before throwing it onto the slate-stone floor and jumping on top of it. She heard the screen shatter, but he didn’t stop. He lifted one booted foot and smashed it again and again until it was shattered into a million pieces.

  “Wait! What…?” He stopped and looked up at her. “Wh—What did you do that for?”

  “You asked me to trust you yesterday, and I did. Can you do the same?”

  Could she? Could she blindly trust him? She grimaced.

  “I…I have too many questions. I think you’re going to need to tell me what’s going on,” she said carefully. “I don’t like being in the dark like this.”

  He pursed his lips, his eyes conflicted. “I really don’t want to.”

  “I really need you to,” she answered.

  He leaned down to pick up the mangled pieces of her phone and throw them in a nearby garbage can, then he turned to face her. “I’m going to put Suzy’s car back in your garage. Meet me down at the cottage when you’re done here? We’ll talk, okay?”

  Her heart swelled. “Wait…you’re staying?”

  “For a little while.” He nodded. “You said I was welcome, right?”

  “Yes. Yes, you’re welcome here,” she answered, unable to hold back her smile for the second time in the five minutes he’d been back. “For how long?”

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t know yet.”

  “But you’ll tell me everything?”

  “Yeah. I promise.” He looked around the small shop, his eyes landing on an expensive coffee table book called Moonstone Manor: The Palace in the Sky. “Can I take one of these?”

  “They’re seventy dollars,” she said.

  He took out his wallet, withdrew a one-hundred-dollar bill, and placed it on the counter. “Keep the change. Is the gate by your place the only way in here?”

  She nodded. “There were two other gates originally, but they were walled off years ago.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’ll see you back at home, huh?”

  At home.

  Oh, my heart.

  “Mm-hm,” she murmured. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Holding the book at his side, he turned around and headed back out the main door. Tierney strained her neck, her eyes dropping to his ass for a second, and sighed before she forced them back up. She leaned over the counter to watch him slide into his sister’s car and drive away. But not away-away. Not like last time.

  And just like that, her whole mood shifted from miserable to elated, which should have clued her into something grave: her feelings for Burr—her sharp, intense infatuation, which had just received a booster shot—were growing. But she was too happy to notice anything but the fact that he was back and that each second that passed now drew her closer to him, not farther away.

  At five o’clock sharp, she powered down her computer and turned off the lights in the gift shop.

  “’Night, Ms. Haven,” said Anna, walking through the visitor’s center on her way to her car.

  “Good night, Anna. Is the main house locked?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but there are still a couple of stragglers checking out the barn with Shannon.”

  “I’ll get them moving. Have a good evening,” she said, turning off the lights and locking the double glass doors of the visitor’s center.

  Walking around the building, she followed a brick path toward the barn but stopped and waved when she found Shannon walking toward her with a mother, father, and two teenage boys.

  “Finishing up?” she called.

  “Yes!” said the mother, walking up the path to chat with Tierney. “We’re so glad we stumbled across this place! I could wander around here for hours. What a find!”

  Usually, Tierney would offer to take the family on an extra, off-hours tour of the estate’s attic or one of the outbuildings not on the regular tour, especially when they were as enthusiastic as this family appeared to be. But tonight, she had somewhere to be and she was eager to get there.

  “We’re so glad you took the time to visit,” she said, then looked at her watch purposefully. “But I’m afraid we closed…three minutes ago.”

  “Oh!” said the mother, looking disappointed. “I guess that’s our cue to go.” She turned to Shannon. “Thanks, again, for a wonderful tour.”

  Shannon nodded, accepting the tip offered and waving good-bye as the family walked back to their car, one of only three in the parking lot. The other two belonged to Shannon and Tierney.

  “Big plans tonight, Ms. Haven?” asked Shannon with a teasing smile.

  “Just my regular Wednesday night dinner. But I need to get over to Center Harbor for groceries. How about you?”

  Shannon looked surprised by the question. “Yeah, actually. My boyfriend works as a counsellor at a camp up on Squam. We’re getting together tonight at Walter’s Basin for dinner.”

  “Sounds like fun,” said Tierney, realizing that she almost never asked her employees about their personal lives; before now, she’d kept everything professional.

  Or had she? Maybe calling it “professional” was a cop-out. Maybe what she was really doing, was sort of like hiding; keeping herself isolated from people as she used to at Summerhaven. For whatever reason, the realization bothered her.

  “I hope you have a really nice time with your boyfriend, Shannon. Try the trout. It’s amazing.”

  “Thanks, Ms. Haven!” called Shannon, heading over to her car. “See you tomorrow?”

  “See you tomorrow, Shannon.”

  Maybe she could make a little more effort with the young women who worked for her. They were all several years younger than she, of course, but Tierney could certainly be a little warmer with them. Something to think about.