"Tell me what happened to her," I said. "I need to know."
"Fine," he sighed. "I guess it's time." I sat down and he began.
"My business is a dangerous one. I make many enemies. Mostly Irish mob who want in on the money. They were not thrilled when I came here over twenty years ago and started working. I had just married your mother then and I'll swear until the day I die you look just like her. She knew my business and she did most of the organization. She came up with the idea for the tea shop and the code. She also arranged original contacts. When we started getting calls, things got bad. The house was firebombed several times. The families of my men were being harassed. Then it happened. You were no more than two months old. They broke into the house and kidnapped her. They tried to take you, but I was feeding you in the next room. I killed one and injured another trying to get her back, but they took her anyway. For three days I searched and called in every favor I had. We found nothing. On the morning of the fourth day, they brought her back. They dumped her like trash in front of the rose garden. She'd been shot once, in the back of the head. I thanked God she felt no pain. I buried her there, with Uncle Mike's help. It was her favorite spot and used to be yours. I promised her as I laid her to rest that I would do for you what I could not do for her. You do not break a promise to the dead." I shivered even though it was warm in the room. I blinked back tears.
"I'll get them," I said.
"Erin, really, don't do this," he said.
"I can bring her justice. You tell me where to find them and I'll bring them to you. I can get every last one, I know it," I said.
"With what?" he asked. "You're being ridiculous."
"Please let me do this. I want to help you more than just hanging around in the tea shop," I said. "Let me try once. If something goes wrong, I'll get out of there. I promise." He thought for a moment. I was shocked he was even considering it. I was sure he'd say no. But for some reason, he actually thought about it.
"If you're going to do this, you need to start at the bottom. Their peons are easy to find. If you start rousting them, the boss will want to see what's happening. Start with one. If it works, go back. You can find them on the south side of town at a pub. Sean goes there sometimes and he's seen them. Bring one of the men with you when you go. You'll need a driver. I'm not letting you have a gun. If this works, I don't want you to have to kill anyone," he said.
"Should I go tonight?" I asked.
"Take Ryan. He's not at the meeting tonight," he said. I took a deep breath.
"Okay," I said. Ryan was dozing in a chair in the front hall when I came out. I tapped him on the shoulder.
"We're going," I said.
"Going where?" he asked.
"To get revenge," I replied. He was confused, but he got up and followed me. Sean was the one who knew what our mark was. I'd have to get it out of him. He was more than willing to give me a detailed description of the mob's lackeys.
"The easiest one will be Paddy. He's not as suspicious as the others. None of them could resist a face like yours, but we want to be sure this will work," he said.
"What does he look like?" I asked.
"Short, curly brown hair, always wears this plaid hat. His drink of choice is Guinness," he replied.
"You just described half the population of the country," I said.
"Ah, but here's the defining feature. He's got a scar running from his nose down his cheek," he said.
"Wow," I said.
"You can't miss it," Sean said. I nodded. Ryan finished loading his gun and holstered it.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Let's go," I said.
"Good luck," Sean waved us off. I didn't say much as we rode down to the pub. I was afraid it wouldn't work. I was convinced someone would recognize me and we'd be looking down the barrels of sixty guns. Ryan seemed to feel the same way as he drove. He would sigh about every five minutes.
"I'll wait outside. They might recognize me," he said.
"I can't go in there by myself," I said.
"This is your big break. If you really want to do this, you have to go in there by yourself," he said. There was sympathy in his voice. However, he was right. I had made this choice and I had to follow it through. I took a few more deep breaths and opened the door.
It was smoky and noisy. My eyes took a minute to adjust to the dim light. Act natural, I told myself. Then I realized I had no idea how to act natural in a pub. The only drinking I'd ever done was in my dorm room with my friends. I walked up to the bar.
"What you havin' lass?" the bartender asked.
"Beer, please," I said.
"Comin' right up," he said. I looked around, trying to see if I saw this mysterious Paddy. I didn't see anyone with scars or a plaid hat. The bartender plopped a mug of dark beer in front of me.
"Thanks," I said.
"You English?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I...uh...have an aunt there. Stayed with her last year. Guess some of the accent rubbed off." He smiled.
"Welcome back," he said.
"Actually, I'm looking for someone. A guy named Paddy, has a scar on his face," I said.
"He's at the back table," he nodded in that direction. There was a man with his head down sitting alone. No wonder I hadn't seen him.
"Thanks," I picked up my beer and went to cozy up to him.
"Is this seat taken?" I asked. He looked up.
"No, have a seat," he said. I sat down across from him.
"My name's Erin," I said.
"Patrick," he replied.
"Nice name," I said. Somehow, I felt I was doing a really lousy job. I'd be lucky if I could hold this guy's interest for more than ten seconds. There was no way I'd get him to leave with me.
"Thanks," he said. "I've never seen you in here before." Crap, I thought.
"I just got back from England. A friend of mine recommended here for a good Guinness," I said.
"They have the best," he said.
"A Guinness man?" I asked.
"Yup," he replied. That's when I noticed he hadn't taken his eyes off me since I sat down. Maybe I wasn't doing such a terrible job after all.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" I questioned.
"No, you're just very pretty," he said.
"I try," I said, trying to play it cool. I caught a glimpse of the clock. I'd been in there almost an hour. Ryan was probably getting impatient. Time to make my exit.
"I really have to get going," I said. "Lost track of time."
"Do you live nearby? I'll walk you home," he said. Bingo.
"Thank you," I said. We got up and paid. Ryan had the car waiting.
"This is my ride," I said. Paddy didn't get another word out. Ryan hit him in the back of the head with his gun. He collapsed on the ground and we loaded him into the back of the car.
"You think he'll wake up?" I asked.
"Nah, he's good for about two hours," Ryan replied.
"Okay," I said. We took him back to the store. The meeting would have broken up about ten minutes ago. I'd leave Ryan there to do what he would with Paddy and walk home. My father was in the front of the store when we came in.
"It worked," I said.
"It did?" he said. I nodded.
"Ryan has him in the back of the car," I answered.
"I'll help him bring him in later. You can go home now," he said.
"Was planning on it," I said. He kissed me on the cheek.
"Let Taylor walk with you," he said.
"But Daddy, I don't like Taylor," I insisted.
"Don't argue with me, Erin," he said. I pouted. All Taylor wanted was to get into my pants and my father's wallet. Too bad my father never saw it.
"Fine," I said. My dad called Taylor to the front. It was going to be an unpleasant walk home.