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“I’m sorry for what happened to him. Your family must have been devastated.”
Tony shrugged, but a pall had suddenly been cast over the evening. Eve had just been starting her senior year in college when she’d heard about Sean Gallagher’s disappearance. Coming as it had just weeks after Ashley Dallas’s murder, the news had been an even more stunning blow.
Eve didn’t have to struggle to recall the details. Even though she’d attended school out of state, she’d kept up with the case from the moment she’d heard of Ashley’s death. Ashley and Tony had attended an end-of-the-year party at college, along with some of their friends. For some reason, Ashley had ended up leaving the party alone, and her beaten and stabbed body had been discovered early the next morning.
The murder weapon, a switchblade, had been traced back to a man named Daniel O’Roarke. He had attended the party, also, and witnesses described an altercation he’d had with Tony. The two of them had never gotten along, primarily because their families had been sworn enemies for over seventy years.
Eve hadn’t known about any of that until it had all come out at Daniel’s trial. By that time, Sean Gallagher, who had been the lead investigator on the case, had disappeared without a trace. The consensus at the time was that Daniel, or someone in the O’Roarke family, had murdered Sean and disposed of his body, either to keep further evidence from coming to light against Daniel, or for revenge.
Eve couldn’t imagine what it had been like for the Gallaghers over the years. The not knowing had to be agonizing, she thought, watching Tony.
His gaze was downcast. He stared into his drink with a brooding frown, and Eve wondered if he was thinking about his father, or Ashley, or both. Her murder and Sean’s disappearance were inseparable, and Eve felt regret prickle through her. She wished she’d never mentioned Tony’s father. Because her words had reanimated Ashley’s ghost.
A hand fell on her shoulder, and Eve started. She saw Vic D’Angelo’s reflection in the mirror over the bar, and reluctantly she rotated her stool to face him.
“You wouldn’t be trying to horn in on my date, would you, Gallagher?”
Tony glanced up. “You wouldn’t be trying to hit on my partner, would you, Vic?”
“So what if I am?”
“I might not like it, that’s all.” Tony shrugged, but there was no mistaking the warning in his voice.
D’Angelo turned back to Eve, draping a casual arm over her shoulders. “How about we find us a table?” he said against her ear, but loudly enough for Tony to overhear. “Something a little more private.”
“Tony and I were in the middle of a discussion,” she said.
Tony, still leaning casually on the bar, said, “How about you and I take a little stroll outside, Vic?”
“Tony,” Eve said, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s okay. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but what are partners for?” He met her gaze, his eyes so intensely blue that Eve felt her pulse quicken. It had been a long time since he’d looked at her like that, but she still felt the impact, even after all these years.
D’Angelo said coldly, “Lighten up, Cowboy. Like the lady says, she can take care of herself.”
Eve glanced up at him. “And you should know, right, Vic?”
His gaze turned icy. “There’s a word for women like you,” he growled.
Eve lifted her brows. “Smart? Discriminating?”
Over D’Angelo’s shoulder, she saw Tony grin. Their eyes met again in the mirror over the bar, and a thrill went through Eve. They’d shared something just then, she and Tony. Maybe it wasn’t exactly bonding, but it was close. And that it had come at Vic D’Angelo’s expense was particularly gratifying.
In the mirror, Eve saw Clare Foxx making her way through the crowd toward them. When she approached the bar, D’Angelo moved down to make room for her. “Lieutenant,” he said amiably.
“Vic,” Clare greeted him.
“Buy you a drink?”
“Boilermaker,” she said, glancing at Tony.
Clare had taken off her jacket, and the filmy gray blouse revealed a matching lace camisole underneath. She looked very sexy. Very available. Her cloying perfume was almost an overt invitation, and D’Angelo wasn’t about to pass it up. But Eve wasn’t at all sure the scent was for D’Angelo’s benefit.
When the shot glass and mug came, he handed her the former, saluting her with his own drink. “Here’s to fast cars and loose women.”
“Here’s to men with big…mouths,” Clare said, then tipped her head back and killed the whiskey.
D’Angelo handed her the beer chaser. “So what brings you down here, Lieutenant? I wouldn’t have thought this dump was exactly your style.”
Clare shrugged. “I don’t mind slumming once in a while.” She winked at Eve. “I just don’t like to make a habit of it. Isn’t that right, Tony?”
He glanced up. “Sure, Clare. Whatever you say.”
Eve got the distinct impression he hadn’t been listening to any of their conversation. His mind was a million miles away.
Clare was not a woman who liked to be ignored. She leaned toward Tony, touching a hand to his sleeve. “So how did the call go this afternoon?”
Before he could reply, Eve said quickly, “I told the lieutenant about the call you went out on earlier. The possible homicide down on Burley Street.”
His eyes narrowed. He had no idea what she was talking about. “Yeah. Right.”
“So how did it go?” Clare pressed. “When am I going to see your report?”
“Damnedest thing,” Tony said. “Turned out to be a false alarm.”
“A false alarm,” Clare said suspiciously.
“Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Right now, though, I need to make a phone call.”
Eve saw him move toward the back of the bar, stopping to talk with a man in an expensive-looking suit and a woman with flaming red hair.
Eve recognized the woman immediately. Fiona Gallagher had been several years behind Eve in school, but her distinctive red hair and flamboyant personality had made her well known and liked even in the higher echelons at St. Anne’s. Eve had always admired Fiona’s easygoing personality.
She excused herself from Clare and D’Angelo, who hardly seemed to notice her departure. They were talking in low tones, and Eve could have sworn she felt something akin to sexual vibrations emanating from the two of them. Had she been wrong about Clare’s intentions? Was something going on between her and D’Angelo?
Going into the ladies’ room, Eve washed and dried her hands, then ran a comb through her hair and touched up her lipstick. Staring at herself in the mirror, she tried to see what Tony saw when he looked at her. Straight, shoulder-length brown hair, hazel eyes, nice smile thanks to the braces. Nice figure, but nothing extraordinary.
She looked a little uptight, Eve decided, and wished she’d left her jacket in the car. Removing it now would be a little too obvious, so she settled for unbuttoning her beige blouse a couple of notches. Then, feeling ridiculous, she quickly redid the buttons.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Fiona Gallagher walked in. Now here was a woman who knew how to dress, Eve thought enviously, taking in Fiona’s slim black pants and white tailored shirt.
Fiona smiled at Eve’s reflection. “It’s Eve, isn’t it? Eve Barrett?”
Eve turned and smiled. “Hi, Fiona. It’s been a long time.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve changed so much.”
“You haven’t,” Eve blurted, then added quickly, “I meant that in a good way.”
Fiona laughed good-naturedly. “Even if you didn’t, it’s true. Not much you can change about this mop and all these freckles. Speaking of which, what happened to yours?”
Eve shrugged. “They’ve faded somewhat. I don’t get out in the sun much these days.”
“Whatever you’re doing is working,” Fiona said graciously. “You look great. No wonder Tony couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
“I doubt it’s for the reason you think.” Eve turned back to the mirror to redo her lipstick even though she’d just applied it. When she couldn’t get it quite right, she gave up and dropped the gold tube back into her purse. “He’s not exactly wild to have me as a partner.”
Fiona sighed. “Don’t let him get to you. Sometimes I think he tries to see how far away he can push people, including his own family. It’s just a defense mechanism, though. A way to keep from getting hurt again.” For a moment, she looked as if she might have said more than she meant to. Then she shrugged. “He’s had some tough blows.”
Eve said quickly, “I know about Ashley. I remember how close they were.”
“It’ll soon be eight years since she died. Every year I keep thinking it’ll get better for Tony, but when the anniversary rolls around…” Fiona trailed off, then added softly, “Maybe one of these days the right person will come along and make him realize Ashley wasn’t the only woman in the world for him. Maybe she wasn’t even the right woman.”
“Maybe,” Eve said doubtfully.
“And maybe I talk too much,” Fiona acknowledged ruefully. “So come on.” She took Eve’s hand. “I’ll introduce you to the new man in my life. He’s pretty yummy, if I do say so myself.”
Eve gave her reflection one last glance as Fiona’s words echoed inside her head. Maybe she wasn’t even the right woman.
Right, Eve thought. And the winters in Chicago were always balmy.
TONY SAW FIONA COME OUT of the bathroom with Eve firmly in tow. Eve looked a little disconcerted, as if she didn’t quite know what had hit her. But that was Fiona’s MO all right. A regular little bulldozer when she had something up her sleeve.
She dragged Eve over to David, who was chalking his pool cue. “David MacKenzie, I’d like you to meet Eve Barrett. Tony’s new partner.”
David’s brows shot up as he glanced from Eve to Tony and then back again. “Nice to meet you, Eve. And my condolences.”
“Those were Nick’s words exactly,” Eve told him.
“Which goes to show how well we both know Tony.” David flashed her a charming grin, and Eve could immediately see why Fiona was so taken with him. David MacKenzie was indeed yummy. And he smelled wonderful. Expensive.
“Look, you two let someone else have the pool table, and let’s all grab a table,” Fiona instructed them. “I’m dying to catch up with Eve.”
“Catch up?” David gamely handed his cue to the next person in line.
“We all grew up in the same neighborhood,” Fiona explained. “Eve’s dad still lives only a few blocks over from Mom and Gram.”
Tony didn’t say a word until Fiona had laid claim to a table. “I think I left my drink at the bar.”
“I’ll get a fresh round,” David said magnanimously. “What’ll you ladies have?”
“Boilermaker.” Fiona shot Tony a defiant glance.
“She’ll have a beer,” Tony said darkly. When his sister started to protest, he snapped, “I’m not carrying you out of here again, Fiona.”
Instead of a retort, she actually blushed. “Make it a Guinness,” she told David.
He winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’d be happy to carry you out of here. Have a boilermaker if you like. Have two.”
“Are you trying to get her drunk, MacKenzie?” Tony asked grimly. “Because if you are—”
Fiona rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, Tony, lighten up. David’s your best friend. If you can’t trust him with your sister, who can you trust?”
“Yeah, Tony, if you can’t trust me with your sister, who can you trust?” David taunted with a grin as he turned to get the drinks.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” Fiona demanded the minute David was out of earshot. “Scare him off? I finally get him to notice me after all these years, and you pull that overprotective big brother routine on me? Just for that, I ought to get hammered,” she grumbled. “I ought to get falling down, sloppy, puking drunk so that you have to baby-sit me all night. It’d serve you right.”
Tony gave Eve a long-suffering look. “See what you got yourself into tonight?”
Eve shrugged. “Beats staying home.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” he muttered.
Vic D’Angelo ambled over with two mugs of beer. He sat one before Eve and the other in front of Tony. “Compliments of the lieutenant.”
Eve glanced toward the bar. “Where is she?”
“Had to make an early night of it.” D’Angelo clapped a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “To tell you the truth, this place is not exactly Clare’s style these days. She likes a little more class.”
Eve half expected Tony to knock D’Angelo’s hand off his shoulder, but instead he picked up the beer, took a long swallow, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He lifted the half-empty mug to D’Angelo. “Have a drink, D’Angelo. You don’t strike me as the type of guy who minds leftovers.”
D’Angelo’s face contorted with anger. For a moment, Eve thought he might do something stupid, like start a fight, but then he pulled off a cocky grin and raked Eve with a smoldering glare. “We’ll see who ends up with the leftovers, Cowboy.”
Eve shivered and Fiona gasped. “The nerve of him! Did you see the way he looked at Eve?”
Tony said, very deliberately, “Excuse me.”
Fiona grabbed his hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He lifted a brow. “To the bathroom. Is that okay with you?”
“Just…don’t start any trouble.”
“A nice guy like me?” He gave Eve a glance before he disappeared.
David brought the drinks right after Tony left. “Where’s he off to?”
“Don’t ask,” Fiona mumbled.
“Here,” David said, handing her a shot glass and a mug. “I brought you a boilermaker. Kill it quick, before he comes back.”
Fiona giggled. “There’s nothing I like better than pulling one over on Tony.”
“You and me both,” David agreed, distributing the remaining drinks. “How about you, Eve? Sure you don’t want something stronger than beer? Might make working with Tony a little easier on the nerves.”
David was a nice guy, and Fiona was a lot of fun, but Eve suddenly felt uncomfortable sitting at the same table with them. It wasn’t just because the makings of a romance were stirring, either. Like Clare and D’Angelo, Fiona and David were sending off unmistakable vibes, but that wasn’t the source of Eve’s uneasiness. It was her urge to defend Tony that worried her. Her desire to plant herself firmly and squarely in his corner.
And considering her assignment, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.
