A Reason To Kill by Geraldine Fitzsimmons

Author:Geraldine Fitzsimmons [Fitzsimmons, Geraldine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense & Thrillers
ISBN: 9781925148985
Publisher: IFWG Publishing International
Published: 2016-01-22T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 68

Northern Ireland, 1984

Megan O’Donnell was ushered into the Monaghan’s comfortable parlor to be confronted by another shock.

“Christ, Scribe, you look awful.” Megan’s hands automatically flew to her disheveled hair, as Deirdre’s arm protectively encircled her.

“Davy,” Deirdre yelped, “why didn’t you tell me it was her?”

“And who’s her, that I should know to be telling you?”

“She’s Megan O’Donnell.”

“Sure, that I know,” he grinned. “What makes her special?”

“We’re friends,” the girl said. And the men shook their heads in surprise.

Megan, deciding it was time to stand alone, disentangled herself from Deirdre’s hold.

Monaghan said, “Don’t be telling us, she’s one of your crowd?”

“I’m not part of anybody’s crowd,” Megan protested.

“But she’s safe,” Deirdre declared and grabbing Megan’s arm tugged. “Come on Scribe let’s make you human—you stink.” She led the way to a large bathroom.

First thing Megan washed was her hair, and then gratefully eased her aching bones into the warmth of the bath Deirdre drew for her. As the older girl soaked, the teenager parked her bottom on the edge of the tub and chatted away.

“How did this happen?” Deirdre ran a finger around a purple mark adorning Megan’s shoulder. “And this?” Deirdre marveled at each bruise as if they were badges of honor. “You flew over with Seamus?” Her interest changed, “Lucky you?”

“Lucky?”

“Well, it could have been worse. You could have landed in Long Kesh with him. Funny, the Army and the RUC turning rocks looking for you? I never figured it. The names—should have guessed? Wish my papa wasn’t in London. He’d have Seamus out already.” Deirdre verbally allowed her grandfather more power than he possessed.

Megan rolled over so the hot water could better ease the pain in her spine. “Dee? Why in God’s name is the law after me?”

“Big bucks,” Deirdre giggled. “They think Seamus was ferrying a bankroll. Since he doesn’t have it on him, and believe me he’s been searched,” she snickered. “Who safer to stash it with then his beloved bride.”

“Bankroll?”

“American, Canadian, Australian; dollars brought into Dublin can be converted to pounds then filtered across the border as needed.”

“To buy weapons?”

“For other things too.” She shrugged. “Payrolls—keeps the lads off the English dole.”

“Seamus wouldn’t be a party to that—” Then remembering how he’d fled the plane wondered aloud. “Would he?” which brought a nasty grin to Deirdre’s attractive young face causing the older female to demand. “If he didn’t have anything on him what are they charging him with?”

“This is Ulster.” Deirdre fell into her ‘Stage Irish’ voice. “A wee bit of the rebel stink himself has about him, sure’n that makes his ass free meat.” Leaping up she began sorting the clothing she’d brought. She hummed a bit then broke into words:

Time goes by and years roll on

But yet in memory fresh I keep

Of a night in Belfast Prison

Unshamefully I saw men weep.

Megan laughed out loud as she stepped from the tub and began rubbing toweling over her pleasantly pink hide. “Dee, girl, when were you ever in Belfast Prison?”

“Lots of times.” The disbelief shadowed Megan’s face.

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