Bernadette rolled her eyes. “Yes, I finally did it. I can’t believe how much spit you have to put in that tube. We can do DNA tests with our lab with a simple mouth swab. But that still won’t confirm if I’m related to Cahal, it will only show my heritage.” She looked away from Evanston, the test was to dispel the allegations about her birth. No way she was sharing that.
“And did you send it in?”
Bernadette nodded. “I sure did, it went two days ago.” She looked up as Chief Durham walked in the room. He looked very unhappy. “What’s up, Chief? Looks like you got some really bad news, or your hockey team didn’t make the playoffs.”
“You’d both better come into my office,” Durham said. He turned and went back to his desk.
They both came in and sat down. Bernadette couldn’t contain herself. “What is it?”
Durham looked at them. “Cahal Callahan escaped from prison yesterday. Sorry, I just got this email this morning. It came from the Canadian Embassy in Dublin.”
“Holy shi—” Bernadette began and stopped herself. “Did the report say how it happened?”
“He suffered a heart attack. An ambulance arrived to take him to hospital. The two guards who accompanied him were found unconscious and Cahal was gone.”
“One hell of a slick job,” Evanston said.
“Yes, it was. There is something you need to know. With all the turmoil going on in Ireland, the Dublin Garda cannot promise a lot of manpower in the search for him.”
“What about if I went?” Bernadette asked.
“You’d have no powers over there, and I doubt they could help you much. I cannot think of any reason why I’d send you,” Durham said.
“I can think of ten thousand reasons,” Bernadette said. “I’ve had Joe Christie push Callahan’s appearance to coincide with when he returns for the other charges. He doesn’t appear, I’m out ten grand.”
Durham shrugged. “Sorry, that’s the chance you take when you give a surety. He doesn’t return, the court gets the money. Even if you did go there, with the new charges he has of escaping an Irish prison, they’ll tie him up in the courts. He’s not going to be in our hands any time in the near future, unless he got on a plane with you to return here.”
“That’s it,” Bernadette said. “I go there and get that piece of crap uncle of mine on a plane back here.”
Durham chuckled. “Callahan, you’d have to work a miracle to get something like that. And I can’t spend a dime of the detachment’s money if you want to go and you’d have to take a leave of absence. Can I give you any more reasons why not?”
“No, that’s enough. I’ve got enough travel miles from my credit card to cover my flights and hotels. Give me four days. If I can’t find him, I’ll be back and write a check for ten big ones to the clerk of the court,” Bernadette said.
Durham dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe I’m thinking of letting you go, but I want him back to face charges. Okay, if you do go, you have no weapon and no badge. You haven’t a shred of authority over there. You might as well be a tourist.”
“Not a problem, Chief,” Bernadette said and left the room.
She pulled up her credit card’s website where she had more travel points than money. Finding a flight from Calgary to Toronto to Dublin that was only thirteen plus hours, she booked it. Then she booked a car, a Mini Ford Ka with a manual transmission. She realized she hadn’t driven a stick shift for ten years; how hard could it be?
The hotels were a problem; all the ones in her travel miles program were at the airport or too many points. She settled for a hotel in the brewery and Dublin Castle area. She picked a three-star hotel for sixty-two Canadian dollars a night.
She clicked on the site to book it. “Think of it like urban camping,” Bernadette said to herself as the booking was confirmed. She realized it was late in Dublin, but she texted Detective Sullivan, so he’d know she was coming there.
Evanston came into the room and stood by her desk.
Bernadette looked up. “What’s up Evans?”
“You don’t think this is a bit hasty, a bit rash maybe?”
“I know it is. But ever since Cahal got away I wanted to be on his trail. Now, that’s where I’m going to be,” Bernadette said looking up at Evanston. “If he is a true Callahan like my father, all I need to do is check the radius of pubs in the area he once frequented. My father shined the bar of many a pub with his elbows in his drinking days. I think Cahal will be the same.”
“And how exactly do you expect to get him back here?”
“No idea. I’ll make it up as I go,” Bernadette said as she sent the booking files to her phone and closed her laptop. “It’s five o’clock. I got to go and see my lovely man and tell him what I’m up to.”
Evanston rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that.”
Bernadette’s cell phone rang; it was Sullivan in Dublin, “Hi, Detective Sullivan, I didn’t expect you to call me back, I know it’s late there—"
“Are you somewhat mad?” Sullivan asked, interrupting her.
“No, I’m not mad, what do you mean?”
“Ah, the word I’m going for is crazy as in mad in the head. How do you expect to find this man, Cahal? I doubt if I can help you when you come here. I’ve got three bank robberies and a murder to work on. Cahal is an old codger. I doubt if the department will put much more than a BOLO on him.”
“That’s fine, Detective. I have my own car and I’ll find my own way,” Bernadette said.
There was a long pause on the phone.
“Where are you staying?”
“A hotel in the brewery district.”
“Most of those hotels are shite.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
“You’re welcome. When do you arrive in Dublin?”
Bernadette looked at her itinerary. “I arrive at just before seven on Friday morning.”
Another long pause on the phone, Bernadette waited.
“I’ll meet you for breakfast at zero eight hundred. There’s a nice little café called Annie’s in Blanchardstown. Take a right out of the airport and a right on the Northern Cross Route. Then the exit into the town; it’s just past the Connolly Hospital. I’ll fill you in with what I can,” Sullivan said.
“I appreciate that, Detective. I’ll see you in a few days,” Bernadette said. She realized a meeting with the detective was more than she’d hoped for. She’d called him, as it was the correct protocol to tell him she’d be looking for Cahal, but at least she might get the lay of the land.
“Are they going to help you out?” Evanston asked.
“I got a breakfast meeting when I arrive. That’s it. I doubt if they can do anything for me but give me directions and tell me not to get in their way.”
“Better than nothing.”
“Okay, I gotta make tracks. My plane is tomorrow, and I have a bunch of things to do,” Bernadette said. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Hey, take care, and I mean it,” Evanston said. “I just lost Sawchuck as my partner, now I got you. Don’t go doing anything silly over there.”
“Like getting killed?”
“No, I meant like a traffic accident, they drive funny over there, don’t they?”
“Yeah, it’s called the left side of the road.”
“And that’s driving funny,” Evanston replied while crossing her arms.
Bernadette left the detachment and drove to the hospital. She wanted to speak with Father Joe before she left. She found him in Father Dominic’s room. He’d put a cot in there so he could be with him twenty-four seven. A guard was outside the room, and another at the front elevator.
“Hey, Father Joe,” Bernadette said as she entered the room. “How is he doing?”
“Looks like we need just a bit longer. He has a bit of a fever and they don’t want to move him until it goes down,” Father Joe said. He looked tired and disheveled. He’d gone without a shave for many days and his eyes were bleary.
“I wanted to tell you that Cahal escaped from prison in Dublin, and I’m off to search for him. I’m here to ask if there’s any leads you can give me on what Fathers Dominic and Fredericks were looking into in Ireland.”
“I haven’t the foggiest, sorry. I only know it has something to do with ancient kings of Ireland. At first, I thought they were just writing a book of history, and then when I was informed there were people after them, I knew it was something more.”
“You knew they were in danger?”
“I wouldn’t have been sent to be with them if they weren’t. The church sent me here one week before they arrived. This was supposed to be the perfect hiding place for them,” Father Joe said as he turned to look at Father Dominic. “Unfortunately, someone found out about it.”
“Thanks for that, Father Joe, I’ll check it out. Take care of yourself and Father Dominic.”
“You too. There’s one more thing. When you get there, if you need my assistance, call me. Do you still have my number?”
“Right here in my phone.”
“Great, and I’ll send you another number. It’s a local number in Ireland. There’s a Guardian I know there called Sister Mary-Margaret. She might be able to help you as well.”
“You have nuns in your group? Good to hear,” Bernadette said.
“We come in all shapes and sizes. Now travel safe and God Bless you,” Father Joe said.
Bernadette headed out the door. There was one stop she needed to make on her way home. It was a total gamble, but that’s what she had now.
She parked herself outside of the Corral Bar, one of the seediest most disgusting booze joints in town. The place was busy; even with the prices of oil down and jobs scarce, the guys still found money to buy cheap beer.
A Bud Lite sign blinked in the window, and as she opened the door, the sound of the low growl of male voices with the loud shrieks of a few women filled the air.
Happy hour had been on since four. This crowd was well oiled with cheap beers and highballs. Bernadette saw Cindy at the bar and made a straight line for her.
Cindy was twenty-two, blonde with blue eyes, and covered in tattoos with a couple of studs in her nose and a lip ring. She’d been there for two years. Her story was simple—bad choice of men. She’d had one child and two men she needed to keep away from.
Bernadette had helped her with one of the men. He’d been a total loser and drug dealer that she’d been able to focus enough heat on him, so he did some serious time.
Cindy saw Bernadette as she came up to the bar. “Hey, Detective, what can I pour you. It’s on the house,” she said with a smile.
“Just a Diet Coke, Cindy.” She was amazed at how pretty Cindy was, which was her problem. She attracted men in droves, and she had the worst taste in the ones she chose.
“Sure thing, Detective. What brings you in here?” Cindy asked as she put a coke in front of Bernadette.
Bernadette leaned forward on the bar. “You once told me you had a unique way of controlling your rowdy customers. You said they became like putty in your hands. I got a feeling you sprinkle a little something in their drinks. Am I close?”
Cindy looked left and right watching as her manager walked by and went into the back. “How much trouble am I in?”
“You’re not in any trouble, Cindy. I know you’ve got to control this crowd and I don’t see a bouncer at the door. I’m in need of some of that sprinkle you use for a trip I’m taking. No questions asked,” Bernadette said in a low voice.
Cindy looked behind her. The manager was pulling out a fresh keg of beer and rolling it towards the other side of the bar. She pulled out a packet of white pills and pushed two of them across the bar.
Bernadette placed her hand over it. “Is it GHB?”
“Pretty sure it is. A guy came in here once and tried to put it in some girl’s drink six months ago. I saw him, and the manager threw the guy out, but he dropped it. I kind of figured I could use it to settle down some of the rowdy’s—only the nasty one’s mind you,” Cindy said.
“You know it’s illegal, right?”
“Sure, I do, but what are you going to do in here? Those jerks will take the place apart. I sprinkle a little of this in their drink, then we call a cab to take them home.”
Bernadette smiled. “Thanks for this. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Anything for you, Detective, you’ve really saved my ass a few times.”
“I could save it more if you got out of this place.”
Cindy gave a sly grin. “Are you kidding? With the kind of tips I make here? All I got to do is show these guys a bit of cleavage and I pay for my daughter’s day care every month.”
Bernadette shook her head and walked out the door. The smell of the beer and male testosterone lingered in the air until she got into her Jeep. She put the pills into her inside pocket and thought one down one to go. The next adventure was Chris.
35
She arrived home to see lights on in the house. She parked and walked in to find Chris back in the kitchen, his second love in life after her. He was such an excellent cook it made her pale by comparison—when the comparison was, she knew how to order food for delivery and microwave something.
Chris smiled as she entered. “How was your day?”
“Good, lots of things, you know the paperwork kind of things. How was your day?”
“Great,” Chris said. “The Rocky Mountain Forestry Management Division wants to interview me in two days. I had a great talk with their human resources department. They’ve had a bunch of guys retiring this year.” He poured her a glass of wine and kissed her on the lips.
“That is great, sweetie,” Bernadette said, taking a big sip of her wine.
“Whoa. What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve got that look on your face. It’s that look that says you’re about to drop something really big on me. Something that you know I’m not going to be happy with.”
Bernadette put her hand to her head. “Am I that easy to read? You think all those years of playing poker—"
“You’re not playing poker, you’re about to try to convince me you’re going to do something you think is totally right and I’m going to say is crazy. Why not cut to the chase,” Chris said. He pulled off his apron and led her out of the kitchen to the living room where they sat together with their wine on the sofa.
Bernadette blew out a breath. “Okay, Cahal escaped prison in Ireland. I’m going after him.”
“Not authorized by the detachment, I assume?”
“You assume correctly. I used my points on my credit card,” Bernadette said, taking Chris’ hand. “Look, I’ve got most of it covered except for some hotels. I’ll be gone four days.”
“Is it the ten grand you think you’ll lose or something more?”
“It’s far more than the ten thousand dollars. This man lied to me. He was in our house. I made the worst call of my life in accepting him. He turned out to be a killer.”
“Helping a killer and being a killer are somewhat different under the law.”
“They’re the same to me. I want him back to stand trial. I want to know why this man, who says he saved my father from being killed in the Troubles in Ireland would come here and try to kill two priests.”
They both took a moment. The tension in the room was electric. Sprocket looked at them both, his eyes searching them to see what was going on.
“I can’t stop you,” Chris said finally. “I can only ask you to be careful.”
Bernadette leaned forward and they collapsed into each other. Bernadette felt some tears falling. “Look, my big man, you know I’ll come back. But whether I bring that bad ass uncle of mine back dead or alive is another matter.”
They both laughed. Sprocket jumped up putting his paws on the sofa and began licking their faces with the release of tension in the room.
Bernadette stroked Sprocket’s head. “Okay, we were getting a little tense, now it’s over.
”
Chris got up to back into the kitchen to continue making dinner. “When do you leave?”
“My flight’s at noon tomorrow to Toronto, then the redeye to Dublin.”
“That doesn’t leave us too much time,” he said with a wink.
“How sore are your ribs?”
“I’m sure my ribs can handle it,” he said with a smile.
Bernadette came off the couch and kissed him, “I’ll be gentle.”
36
Cahal Callahan woke up in a darkened room. A light came on, John Dunne stood over him.
“Ah, you’re among the living I see, Cahal,” Dunne said.
“Where am I?”
“Does it really matter? You’re alive, you’re out of prison, and you’ve a lot to answer for.”
“Look, I heard Dominic was dead on the police scanner. They claimed he was a victim of a shooting. How was I to know? I legged it out of there before I was discovered.”
Dunne shook his head. “Good answer, but I doubt if the Master will think that. You know how he gets.”
Cahal face went white. “Does he want to see me?”
“Yes, he does, but not until you’ve redeemed yourself.”
“Do I have to go back to Canada to finish the job?”
Dunne put up his hand. “No, we’ll send another team in a few days. We have so many other projects, you know, the general mayhem.”
“It’s starting then, the uprising.”
“We’ll make it seem like it has. All of Ireland, England, and Europe will think the Troubles are back. It’ll scare the bejesus out of them.”
“Am I wanted to participate? I can, you know. I’m good with a bomb,” Cahal said.
Dunne shook his head. “No, you’ve got more important things to do.”
“What’s that?”
“That detective in Canada, the one you call your niece…”
“Bernadette Callahan. Yes, what of her?”
“We’ve heard she’s coming here.”
“To Dublin, why?”
“For you. She wants to bring you back to Canada to stand trial.”
Deadly Ancestors: A Bernadette Callahan Mystery (Bernadette Callahan Detective Series Book 5) Page 18