He’d barely settled himself in the passenger seat when she hit the gas and barreled down the street. He slanted her a glance. She couldn’t seem to keep still in her seat. Her shoulders were hiked up to her ears.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called his brother Douglas.
“Where are you?” Douglas asked the moment he picked up. As the closest siblings in age, only thirteen months apart, Douglas and Ryan shared a bond of brotherhood and friendship as close as twins shared.
“Leaving Revere,” Ryan answered. “We’re headed to Portsmouth.”
“Who’s we?”
Ryan hesitated, then gave a mental shrug. Douglas would find out soon enough. “I’m with Meghan Henry.”
“You took a civilian out in the field? What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t take her anywhere,” Ryan answered, his tone infused with the irritation coursing through his veins.
“We heard there were injuries.”
“Jackson went to the hospital.”
“And you?”
His rib pinched him, his ankle throbbed in time with his heartbeat. “Minor.”
His brother snorted. “Nice try. Cracked ribs and a nasty sprained ankle aren’t exactly minor.”
Ryan tightened his grip on the phone. “I’m fine.”
“Ryan?”
The concern in his brother’s tone lanced through Ryan. “Hey, look, this is the deal. I’m following a lead on Christina Hennessy. I’ll call again when I have something worth sharing.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re following a lead with Meghan Henry, a civilian, a reporter, while you’re injured.” Douglas paused. “Dude, the woman is Olivia Henry’s cousin. She’s totally biased and emotionally involved.”
“You don’t think I know this?” Ryan shifted away from Meghan and dropped his voice. “Better to keep her close so I can control the situation.”
“Does Dad know?”
“He knows I’m following a lead on Christina Hennessy.” As chief of police, Aiden Fitzgerald kept a firm and fair grip on the department. Just as Ryan would do when he took over as chief after his father won the upcoming mayoral election.
“Be careful, brother.”
His gaze shot to Meghan. He’d allowed himself to be distracted by her once. There wouldn’t be a repeat. “I plan to.”
He hung up. Then made the necessary calls to Portsmouth, alerting them he was coming. When he finished his calls, he turned to Meghan. “They’ll contact me if there are any new developments.”
Leaning back into the seat, his aches clamored for dominance in his consciousness. He tried taking a decent breath. Sharp pain was his reward. A glance at the dashboard clock told him they were making good time. Meghan had a lead foot. If he wasn’t so anxious to get to Portsmouth, he’d point out she was pushing the speed limit.
Her nails drummed on the steering wheel as she maneuvered the Subaru through traffic. Pink nail polish on neatly filed fingernails. Long, tapered fingers.
He could imagine Meghan running her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders…
Needing to keep his mind from rabbiting down a hole that he had no business exploring, he redirected his thoughts to the situation. “What sent you to Helen Yorke’s house?”
“I heard that the charm found near Olivia’s body belonged to Christina Hennessy. When I went to the Hennessys’ house, Christina and Georgina were gone. I figured her ex-housekeeper might have an idea where Christina would disappear to. They’d seemed close before Helen left town.”
A cold finger of dread ran down his back. “Who told you about the charm?”
A leaky police department drowned a lot of good people over time. That information was supposed to be quiet until they could bring Christina in. They’d only recently released the image of the silver dolphin charm that had been discovered at the crime scene of Olivia Henry’s murder. A reliable tip had pointed them in Christina’s direction. Topping that off with the evidence linking Christina to Burke’s death…
“Sorry. A good reporter never reveals a source.”
Irritation flared. His jaw tightened. “Well, you found her didn’t you?”
Meghan remained silent, letting the sarcasm of his words fill the car. “The paper said Burke died of a heart attack, but I’d heard it was a prescription overdose. Some say on purpose.” She glanced at him.
He didn’t think keeping the information from her would serve much purpose. It would become public knowledge soon enough. “No. No heart attack, no overdose, at least not on purpose. Asphyxiation was the official cause of death.”
Ryan had never bought the theory that Burke offed himself. The socially ambitious lawyer had been too set on usurping any Fitzgerald claim to the mayor’s seat to be suicidal. He’d been one of two men who thought Fitzgerald Bay needed new blood in the town government. “There’s evidence of foul play. Fibers found in his nostrils and throat suggested he’d also been smothered with a pillow, finishing off what the drugs had started.”
“That’s horrible.”
Ryan ran a hand through his hair. “You never answered my question. Why is Georgina so important to you?”
She pressed her lips tightly together, the corners pinching slightly. After a moment, she said, “I received a letter earlier today.”
“And that has to do with Georgina how?”
Looking suddenly uncertain, she hesitated. Seeming to debate with herself, she nodded once, straightened her shoulders and briefly met his gaze. “It was from Olivia, postmarked before her death.”
He drew back in surprise. “You just now got it?”
A flash of impatience sparked in her hazel eyes as she slanted him a sharp glance. “Yes. When I left Boston, I didn’t have a forwarding address, so the super of my building held my mail. He finally got around to sending it all to me.”
“Do you have the letter with you?”
“No. It’s in a safe place.” She inhaled and then released a breath before saying, “How did you find out Olivia had a child?”
“I should be asking you that question.” But he figured she wouldn’t tell him anyway. That leak needed to be plugged. “The autopsy revealed she’d given birth.” Confirming what they’d already suspected. He hesitated a moment, then decided to tell her what else they’d discovered, though she probably already knew. Why did he feel like he was being tested? “A box, postmarked from Fitzgerald Bay, arrived at the police station.”
Perking up with curiosity, she prompted, “What was in it?”
“A pink baby blanket, a baby bracelet from a hospital in Ireland with the words Henry Baby Girl and the name of a doctor and a date, and an uncashed check for ten thousand dollars made out to Olivia Henry. None of which has helped to find Olivia’s killer or identify the person who mailed the box.”
She glanced at him. “But surely the doctor or the hospital had some useful information on what happened to the baby.”
“The hospital had a break-in not long after Olivia gave birth. Her records are missing. The doctor didn’t have any useful information other than confirming she’d delivered Olivia’s baby girl.”
Seeming to weigh his words, she adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“It was privileged information in an ongoing investigation,” he stated.
She made a little frustrated noise low in her throat. “Apparently Olivia had given her child up for adoption. But then regretted her decision and wanted her baby back.”
“Is that what she wrote in her letter?”
“Yes.”
Empathy twisted in his chest. “Unfortunately, there’s no way to confirm that supposition.”
She adjusted her grip on the wheel. “Yes, there is. The adoption was illegal and Olivia had been tricked into signing away her rights. Olivia tracked down her baby girl and found her in Fitzgerald Bay. That was why she’d moved from Ireland to the U.S. She wanted her baby back. Olivia wanted her baby girl to be with me if anything happened to her. She apparently didn’t feel safe in Fitzgerald Bay.”