Nancy’s lips tightened. “Absolutely not. Unless it’s these necklaces, and Lucia’s letter indicates that it is not. The necklaces are the only connection to the Baruchins. Believe me, if I knew more, the first thing I would do would be tell the investigating officer.”
“You and your sisters should stop wearin’ those necklaces, if somebody might be willing to kill for ’em,” Charlie said bluntly.
Nancy’s hand shot up and clutched the thing, as if someone were trying to tear it away. “It…they were Lucia’s last gifts to us,” she said.
“Yeah. Could be the last gifts you ever get.” All the breezy good cheer was gone from Charlie Witt’s ruddy face. He was dead serious.
Nancy stared back, polite but defiant. “Lieutenant Witt—”
“Call me Charlie, honey.”
Nancy gave him an incandescent smile. “Charlie. In the first break-in, the forensics team found a set of fingerprints on my mother’s writing table that did not belong to her or the three of us. Do you suppose they might try comparing them with Baruchin’s prints? Or this mystery man? To see if they were ever in my mother’s house?”
Charlie looked doubtful. “I don’t see why it would have occurred to anyone, but why not? I’ll call Detective Lanaghan tomorrow, talk to her. Just remember—don’t expect any quick or easy answers.”
“Of course not,” Nancy murmured.
Charlie turned to Liam with a thoughtful frown. “I wouldn’t let her out of my sight, if I was you, kid. Not for a second.”
Liam nodded. It was a relief to have his own instincts verified. He hoped Nancy was paying attention. “That’s what I figured,” he said. “I’m still working on selling that proposal. She’s not convinced.”
“Work harder,” Charlie advised, his voice hard. He looked over at Nancy, his eyes lingering on her décolletage. “Not that it would be such a chore to keep your eyes on that, now, mind you.”
“That it wouldn’t be,” Liam heard himself agree, though the look on Nancy’s face indicated that he was going to pay for it.
“Kinda hard to take your eyes off her as it is,” Charlie commented.
“Could you two gentlemen please stop talking about me as if I weren’t here?” Nancy asked, her voice very crisp.
Charlie blinked. “Honey, was I objectifyin’ you?”
Nancy snorted. Charlie took it as encouragement. “Had this girlfriend once. Always said I was objectifyin’ her when I pissed her off.”
“Charlie,” Liam broke in, “put the brakes on.”
“Never did figure out what the hell she was talkin’ about, but boy oh boy did she ever have a nice pair of round, jigglin’—”
“Charlie!” Liam snapped his fingers in front of Charlie’s face.
Charlie subsided. “Sorry. Uh, well. Anyhow. Guess I better be heading on home to the wife.” His eyes rested on Nancy as he took his final swallow of beer, and then his eyes cut to Liam’s half-empty pint of Guinness. “I’d switch to coffee, if I was you, kid,” he said quietly.
They went back to the music table after Charlie left. Liam took Charlie’s advice and switched to coffee. Even so the night quickly took on a dreamlike quality. He was drunk on a different intoxicant, one far more potent than beer. The music thundered, and Nancy’s slender hand, now relaxed and warm, was clasped in his, fingers entwined. They didn’t talk much, with all the noise, but it didn’t matter.
At a certain point in the evening, he noticed a disturbance in the energy of the group. The driving tempo of the music never faltered, but all of the male members of the group around the table except for Eoin were rubbernecking at something behind him. He took a look, and the mystery soon resolved itself. Two strikingly pretty women stood there: a slender waiflike girl with big gray eyes and a mop of long, fire-red hair, and a brunette with flashing dark eyes, lush curves, and full lips. Both of them were standing right by the musicians’ table, smiling. At him.
He glanced down at Nancy, perplexed. She was rolling her eyes. She gestured for him to lean down toward her mouth. “My sisters,” she called into his ear. “They wanted to check you out. And to roast me.”
Her sisters. Well, hot damn. That gave him a warm feeling, and a rush of energy that kicked up the already brisk tempo of “The Three Wishes” to a dangerous driving pace. He looked up at the sisters and gave them a big “here I am, so check me out” grin. They gave each other wide-eyed looks and giggled. They took turns whispering into Nancy’s ear and giggled some more. Nancy turned brick red. He loved it.
He was sorry when they left not long after, before he had a chance to chat, but he hoped there would be another chance soon to charm them and get them on his side. In a less noisy environment, maybe. Dinner, maybe, at his place. When Nancy was there with him. Soon.
Liam looked at his watch when the musicians started packing up, astonished to find that it was well past two in the morning. Eoin was already wangling a ride to his next seisiun, hopeless tunehead that he was.
“I should be getting home,” Nancy said.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he offered.
“Oh, no. I found such a good parking spot for it yesterday that I couldn’t bear to move it. So I took the subway.”
He stared at her for a horrified moment. “You’re joking, right?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Uh, no,” she said. “Believe me, it was perfectly safe. The trains were crowded when I came out, and it’s not like I can get into any trouble on a crowded Uptown Six. Then the Seven train got me within two blocks of here, and it was pretty full, too. I take the subway whenever I can. It’s so much more efficient, and I—”
“You’re not taking it tonight,” he said grimly. “I’m driving you home.”
“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. If it makes you feel any better, I had every intention of cabbing it back, given the weird—”
“Have you not been listening at all? Did you hear Charlie? I know you’re not stupid, so are you nuts? Do you have a death wish?”
She looked abashed. “No, not at all. I just try to get through my days as best I can,” she said tightly. “What about Eoin? Didn’t he come with you?”
“Eoin’s fine. Your friends are taking him to a late-night seisiun in Brooklyn. He’ll play tunes all night and wake up God knows where.”
She bit her lip. “It’s out of your way. Really, a cab would be fine.”
The woman had no grip on reality. She wasn’t used to a guy giving a damn whether she got home safely any more than she was used to being kissed.
Tough shit. She was just going to have to get used to it.
Nancy clasped her hands nervously in Liam’s truck. Alone with him in the dark, her doubts came rushing back, mixed with a dose of simmering lust. Funny. She had thought herself in love with Freedy, Ron, and Peter, but she’d never felt like this with them.
Like a live wire with the plastic casing peeled off.
She searched for something neutral to talk about. “I can’t believe what a stroke of luck it was to find Eoin. How old is he, anyway?”
“Twenty-one, if I remember correctly.”
“Just a baby. Looks like he hit it off with Matt and Eugene, too. And he’s available for the tour, thank God. Does he have a green card?”
Liam hesitated. “We’re working on it,” he said guardedly.
“We can help,” she assured him. “Uilleann pipers are rare. It’s a specialized skill. We’ll write letters to the INS about how desperately they need him for this gig or that. It may take a while—” She shot him a glance. “Why are you smirking? Do I amuse you?”