Frankie moved into the spot Brendan and his daughter had vacated, hands stretched over her coffee as if she didn't trust it to stay put.
Ambrose's heart was racing; Frankie could almost see the pulse in his neck. He pushed his thumbnails together in a sort of civil war: "You're here to re-arrest me?"
She shook her head.
He did a double-take. "The superintendent-"
"The superintendent says hello."
"Oh, God."
She rolled her eyes. "He told me that pressing charges of any kind would be costly, time-consuming, and a terrible embarrassment to An Garda Siochana. He doesn't want another word on the matter."
Ambrose swallowed. "Sounds a bit like him."
Frankie opened the envelope, unfurling the stack of sundry papers within. "I was up all night. I was able to find some information on your father. I have records access you don't have - anymore. I want to help you find him."
At this, her predecessor's eyes brightened.
She went on, more quietly. "Based on what I've found, we might not have much time."
Assumpta steeled herself as she pulled open the door to the vet's. Fionn showed a familiar reluctance to go inside, but his will to fight the inevitable had diminished somewhat with age.
No one was at the front counter, but Siobhan's voice rang out from an office down the hall; it sounded like a telephone conversation, a cheerful one.
"Well, when I looked up the nearest expert in equine sonography, imagine my surprise!" Her deep laugh came down the corridor like a hundred rubber balls. "Ah, it'll be grand to catch up...Okay. Well, I just heard me door open, so...Right you are. See you then."
So she was in a good mood. That would help, Assumpta assured herself. It would have to.
Finally the veterinarian appeared in the lobby, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of Assumpta. The smile drained quickly from her face; the blush took a bit longer.
"Aroon, aroon, won't you come back soon," muttered Siobhan.
Assumpta forced a smile. "Hi, Siobhan."
Siobhan blinked. "Dr. Mehigan, if you like."
The chill reached Assumpta. She sent it right back: "What had you so happy just now?"
Siobhan looked away. "Exam room two, be right along."
Avril awoke late. Realising Grainne would be along any minute, she tried to calculate just how much of her morning routine she had time for. Certainly shampooing was out.
Opening her bedroom door, she felt her foot catch on something soft. Looking down she saw a pair of hopelessly precious silky pants, the ones with the tawdry lace panels and the awful satin bow on the front. They'd been out all night for the curate to admire. Fantastic.
Kicking them into her room, she staggered to the bath, only to find the door shut. She heard the familiar sound of a shower going, and an Aussie belting out some unlucky song a Capella...
"If He didn't want me lookin' all the pretty little women, He'd-a left my old eyeballs dead, isn't that so?"
She went back to her room to pick clothes to change into, hoping to distract herself from the frustration until he wrapped it up. An outfit later, he was still at it.
"Well He knew what He was doin' when He made that magic vine; His own son got a reputation for turning water into wine, isn't that so?"
Patience wore out. She pounded the door.
Siobhan stepped back from the exam table, removing her gloves, and blew into a Galton's whistle. Assumpta heard only the breath, but Fionn perked right up.
"Well, he's in decent shape for his turn in the toaster oven," Siobhan remarked, caressing the setter's back. "Particularly given his age, I'd say his hearing's all right. Is he up on all his shots?"
Assumpta screwed up her face. "Suppose he had to be, to board the ferry with Niamh."
Something seemed to dawn on the vet just then. "You really came out of hiding just for his sake?"
Assumpta nodded.
A hint of empathy returned to Siobhan's teal eyes. "Better late than never, I suppose."
Doc Ryan's dispensary wasn't set to open for a half hour, but the knock sounded urgent. When he opened the door, Father MacAnally stood before him, face contorted in pain.
"What's the matter, Father?" Michael asked, half wishing it was the younger local priest to help him through his own hour of remorse.
"Inside," Frank returned, oblivious.
Michael understood immediately. It had finally gotten bad enough. It was time to try the last resort.
"Father, I'm officially not in that business anymore," Michael warned, closing the door behind them.
Frank's eyes were hard, icy. "And I'm officially not a customer, now or ever."
"Never a word," the doctor whispered.
"You're telling me," said the old priest.