Page 87 of No Lies No Promises

As I’m putting his food away, Grams knocks. “Hello-ee-oo. It’s us. Are you decent?”

When I open the door, it’s a free-for-all of group hugs and tears. We’re still drying our eyes when Grams sets a brown paper bag filled with pungent, spicy aromas on the table. “Chinese. Hope you’re hungry.”

“Yes. We haven’t eaten since breakfast. Thank you.” While I grab paper towels and plates, Becks unpacks dumplings, chicken, beef, veggies… so much food.

The moment Sean unwraps chopsticks, our fuzzy friend hops on a chair, two paws on the tabletop. “Mew?”

“Sorry, kittums.” I gently brush him to the floor. “No handouts.”

While he circles, murmuring cat curses at us, I uncork the last bottle of sauvignon blanc in the fridge and set it on the table.

Glasses full, I raise mine. “Cheers to family.”

Crystal clinks against crystal. As we sip, Ruthanne leans in, her tone conspiratorial. “Spill. Everything. We’re dying to know.”

“You can start by explaining the truck bomb in Jersey.” Becks exchanges a glance with Grams.

We’ve been set up.

“Give me a second.” Chewing, thinking, I eat a little, drink a little, then sigh. “So, we’ve been working a case for our boss, Dante. He suspected Parkhaven Investments of money laundering. Jeff Pearson, a former spook, acted as their frontman. He was the one who kidnapped Simone Hart and used CIA mind tricks to mold her into a suicidal jilted lover even though she had never met Sean.”

“I didn’t know brainwashing was real.” Becks shakes her head. “That is so sad.”

“It is.” Standing, Sean refills his plate. “He also blew up the penthouse. Almost killed Lillian.”

“Whatever for?” Chopsticks pause halfway to Ruthie’s pink lips as she stares wide-eyed at her grandson.

“He thought Boyle was obsessed. Doing him a favor.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” My sister waves a hand in front of his face. “Back up, Sherlock. This Pearson guy knows our father?”

“Yep, they were in cahoots. Liam wanted Parkhaven out of the money laundering business. He hired an inside man to do it.” Eyes on me, Sean squeezes my hand.

Doesn’t take a mind reader to know he has sex on his mind.

I need to speed things up, but this is where things get complicated. “Okay, so Daddy Dearest wants heirs. He believes his genes contain some criminal super-power. Genes that can only be passed on through me.”

Grams nods. “I remember. Boyle brought you to the jungle last Christmas to marry his best friend. Go on. Go on.”

“Exactly. Father sees Sean as his biggest obstacle. When the bomb didn’t work, Jeff hired a pair of grifters to frame Sean, hoping to sow doubt in my mind. Not only did it fail, but it raised our suspicions. So, I pretended that Sean and I broke up and agreed to a date with Pearson.”

My sister gasps. “This is the same guy who tried to murder you. Are you nuts?”

“Yes. And no. Before you guys rescued me that night at Talon, Jeff made a huge mistake. He mentioned something about nondenominational holiday balls.”

Stretching, Becks walks to the fridge, opens the door, and stares at the empty shelves. “No more wine?”

“There’s a Cabernet in the rack…. Where was I? …Oh yeah. The balls. Apparently, Father bugged our favorite haunts. He gave Jeff a recording of the night Sean and I met. That’s how Simone knew about them.”

“But why go to Ireland?” My sister hands the bottle plus the corkscrew to Sean, who continues the story.

“To confront Pearson. Expose him in front of his investors. Put Parkhaven out of business.” His biceps bulge, followed by a sharp pop.

“Remember Mr. Fitzpatrick?” I jump back in. “Not only was he there, but he recognized me. Made a point of mentioning how Dad was in Dublin, too.”

Her glass full, Becks nods. “Fitz? Dad hated him.”

“Right. The two have a rivalry dating back to childhood, which is why he agreed to help us. We set up a trade. Father was captured during the exchange in San Antonio. The end.” I keep my eyes diverted from my partner because if I see him smirk, I’ll laugh. Then, the evening will never end, and we’ll never have time for sex.