The Mystery of the Claddagh Rings

by Kallie Lane

  Her mother poured coffee from a carafe on the table, adding cream to her own. Fin liked hers black and strong. She waited while Poppy gathered her thoughts, dreading the upcoming confrontation. “I know you think I’m making a terrible mistake, but Paul and I are getting married.”

  “Just tell me why, Mom.” Fin sat back in the chair and studied Poppy. Her mother’s decision didn’t make sense. Why would she chain herself to that loser? “He looks like he belongs in rehab. You’ve had problems of your own with drugs and alcohol. Why get involved with him?”

  “My addictions are in the past.” Poppy took a moment before she continued. “The truth is our relationship has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with upping my visibility in the entertainment world.”

  “Lovely,” Fin said, shaking her head. “You’re willing to sell out for sound bites and video feed.”

  “I am, if that’s what it takes to keep me in recording studios and in front of the cameras.” Defiance tipped her mother’s chin. “This is what I live for, Fiona. Besides, there’s no such thing as love.”

  “Still, it’s one hell of a trade-off, Mom. But then, you’ve always settled for less.” Putting down her coffee cup, Fin popped out of the chair. “I can’t stay here and watch this train wreck waiting to happen.”

  “Please, honey.” Her mother tugged on her hand. “I promise you the marriage will be annulled within six months. It’s a publicity stunt. That’s all it is.”

  Fin huffed and sat back down, wanting to paddle her mother’s backside. How could two people with the same gene pool be so different? Fin was a chef, in the process of opening her own restaurant, and used to working for a living. Why couldn’t Poppy do the same, realize she didn’t have to fool the public to hike her popularity? She could do a musical on Broadway or a show in Las Vegas. Heck, didn’t she have any confidence in her talent?

  “Does Paul know about this?”

  “Yes. He’s signed a prenup. Separate bedrooms and separate lives for the duration of our marriage.” Poppy slipped a croissant onto a small plate, breaking it apart with her fingers. “He’ll receive a modest income after we end the charade, providing he keeps silent.”

  “So you’re paying him off. I think you’re crazy, but if it’s what you want, I’ll go along with it.” Really, what else could she do? Poppy was her mother and, stupid decision aside, deserved her support.

  “Thank you.” Poppy rose and went into the bedroom. She came back holding a small velvet bag. Opening the folds, she passed her the bundle. “I’d like you to keep these safe until my wedding day. They’re gifts for my maid of honor—which is you, if you agree—and my bridesmaids.”

  Fin stared down at five beautifully-crafted, gold Claddagh rings, each of them with different gemstones in the crown and clasped hands design. “They’re lovely, but why give them to me?”

  “Too many people know about them.” Poppy shrugged it off with a laugh, but Fin sensed her unease. “I’m afraid they’ll disappear.”

  “Spill it, Mom. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Honestly, Fin, sometimes you can be irritating.” Shaking her head, her mother indulged in an eye roll. “If you must know, I tweeted about them and showed them in a television interview when I announced Paul’s and my engagement.”

  “So? They’re not extremely valuable, are they?” Fin knew there had to be more, something her mother wasn’t saying. “Has something happened?”

  “God you’re persistent.” Poppy buttered the croissant, taking a nibble before she answered. “I’m concerned because my house in Los Angeles was broken into shortly before I left to come here. Someone gained access to the safe, although nothing appeared to be missing.”

  “Let me guess…the rings weren’t in the safe at the time.” Fin examined them again, noticing some unusual symbols etched on the inside of the bands. “Where did you get these?”

  “I don’t remember. It was a long time ago.” Poppy wouldn’t meet her gaze, a sure sign she was lying. “Please, just humor me and protect the rings.”

  ****

  Ryan entered the old Gamekeeper’s cottage that doubled as the estate security office. He scanned the bank of high-tech monitors on a wall and checked the computer readouts. No breaks in the alarm system. No intruders. At least something was going right today, because meeting Fin had messed with his head. He hadn’t expected to be attracted to the daughter, and that was a definite no-no for two reasons. Not only was she a principal in this case, but he also knew her father. Someone she didn’t even know existed, and maybe never would. Hell, he needed to keep his emotions in check. Yet the way she’d challenged him had rocked his world. A small woman like her willing to take him on in order to get to her mother said a lot. Damn it, she was not only brave, but she’d felt good in his arms, too.

  He brushed those feelings aside and hit speed dial on his cell phone, listening to it ring while hating the position he was in. Going undercover to recover the Claddagh rings left him with few options and little backup. Fin’s appeal was simply the icing on this time bomb of a cake.

  “What have you got?”

  “Fiona’s arrived,” Ryan said, hearing the edge in his friend’s voice. Thomas sounded like he was climbing the freaking walls. “I gave her a hard time, pretended I didn’t recognize her, and tried to get rid of her. I struck out.”

  “Do you think she knows?” Thomas was CIA. He was also Fin’s biological father, although she knew nothing about him. Anyone connected to that long ago op believed Thomas was dead. Including Poppy, who hadn’t known who he really was when they’d spent the night together. “I don’t want anything to happen to her or her mother.”

  Ryan blew out a breath. “What she does or doesn’t know won’t save her now. She and Poppy are in danger until I secure those damn rings. Look what happened to Fin last night? Did you read the police report?”

  “I did. It’s my fault this happened, all of it.” Thomas paused for a beat. Ryan imagined him wanting to plow his fist through a wall. “Your dad and I were deep undercover with the IRA back then. I knew better than to take a woman back to my hotel room and sleep with her, especially one as unpredictable as Poppy.”

  “Come on, Thomas.” Ryan poured coffee from the thermos jug on the counter and took a hit. “You didn’t expect her to leave during the night with your jacket and the rings.”

  “I damn well should have. Poppy was lonely in Belfast and more than a little drunk after her final stage performance. I knew she was planning to leave, fly back to the U.S. early the next morning.”

  “Maybe, but you didn’t know she’d borrow your jacket and walk out on you without saying goodbye.”

  “True. But it hardly matters now, does it?” Ryan heard another voice in the background. Thomas came back on the line after a few seconds. “The rings have been missing for almost twenty-eight years. Now they’ve come to light again and the bastards will want them back. I’ve got people searching to see who’s involved, but so far we’ve got nothing.”

  “I know how it goes. They need the clues on the bands to find the money stash from IRA sympathizers.” Ryan leaned back in his chair, watching the monitors. “Too bad the genius who thought that up died the day the rings were engraved, after he’d already hidden the money.”

  “And how do you think he died?” Thomas said. “It’s how I got the rings in the first place.”

  “You were just doing your job, man. Don’t second guess yourself now.” Ryan gazed at a flat screen, watching Fin make her way down the drive to the guesthouse. “I have to go.”

  “Be careful, Ryan,” Thomas said. “A couple million dollars is enough incentive to get more people killed.”

  “I know, but it ends now. My father’s name still needs to be cleared, remember? The CIA thought he stole the money and his career ended in disgrace. Hell, my mother couldn’t even collect his pension after he died in the bombing in Belfast.” Ryan stepped over the threshold and locked the door behind him. He spoke in a lo
w voice. “And you barely survived it.”

  “I’m alive, and I should be there to help you. If I didn’t think Poppy would recognize me—”

  “Exactly.” And it would be one hell of a way for Fin to find out about her father. Ryan followed her at a distance. She veered off the path, heading down toward the shore. “One thing at a time, Thomas. I’ll find the rings and the money. My father’s name will be cleared. Then you can reconnect with Poppy and meet your daughter…if that’s what you really want.”

  Disconnecting the call, Ryan pocketed the phone. Fin stood at the water’s edge with her back to him, her jacket collar turned up against the wind. She looked lonely somehow, and self-contained. He guessed her childhood hadn’t been an easy one, but then, neither had his. Not with his mother scrambling to make a living to support the family. Add that to the shame surrounding his father’s death, and it was a lousy environment for a kid growing up.

  While he might empathize with Fin, he wasn’t above seducing her to get what he wanted. Hell, he’d almost convinced himself it would be better for her in the long run. The fact she was his type of woman had nothing to do with it. The end justified the means in this case, even if Thomas wouldn’t approve. But Fin’s father wasn’t here to object, and Ryan would do whatever must be done to clear his father’s name and end the nightmare for everyone.

  He came up behind Fin, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and turned. Ryan raised his hands in the air. “Easy. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “Keep your mitts to yourself.” Her blue eyes turned icy, very much like Thomas’s. Chin tilted in the air, she warned him to back off with a glare. “Just because you work here doesn’t mean we’re on friendly terms.”

  “I guess we got off on the wrong foot.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, toed the path with a boot, and tried out a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry I mistook you for a stalker earlier.”

  “No, you’re not. As a matter of fact, I think you enjoyed it.” Fin stared at him, her gaze narrowing. “Maybe you’re the stalker. I wouldn’t be surprised if you pawed through my underwear when you brought my suitcase to the guesthouse.”

  “You’re cutting deep there, sunshine.” Okay, so maybe he had, although he would never admit to it. Fumbling through sexy lingerie and enjoying the hell out of it didn’t make a man feel proud. But it gave him a better understanding of Fin, even if he hadn’t found the rings. Why would someone so tomboyish wear lace and silk under ripped jeans and flannel shirts? And what was with the bubble bath, perfumed lotions, and scented candles? She obviously had a feminine side. He also suspected she had a soft spot, at least where her mother was concerned. Why else would she be here, if not to protect Poppy? He wrapped a hand around her wrist. “Maybe we should start over.”

  “Don’t touch me.” She shook free and pulled back, turning toward the guesthouse, but not before Ryan saw the anxiousness in her gaze. “Just keep your hands to yourself.”

  “Fin, wait.” Suddenly, it made sense, what had stared him in the face from the pages of the file Thomas compiled on her. The boyish clothes, her lack of feminine wiles, pointed to a childhood lived in fear. The reason she hadn’t been back to Nantucket Sound in ten years. He doubted Poppy knew, but he’d bet his eyeteeth at least one of her exes had preyed on Fin as a child. “Look, we need to talk.”

  She wanted no part of him or a conversation, that much was obvious. But if he scratched seduction off his list of ways to get close to her, his arsenal was flat out empty. Which meant he had no choice; he’d have to trust her with the truth. Increasing his stride, he caught up to her as she shot through the guesthouse door. He followed her inside, shutting it behind them.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alarm leapt into her pretty blue eyes. Reaching into a jacket pocket, she pulled out a canister. “Get out of here this instant or I’ll spray you blind.”

  “Don’t do it, sunshine.” Yeah, she was going to use the pepper spray. He saw her hit the button half a second before he knocked the can out of her grasp and sent them both to the floor. He kept his weight on his elbows, rubbing his face in her jacket to keep the stuff from burning the skin on his face. It was damn lucky he’d already had his eyes shut before she’d let loose with her trigger finger. It only dawned on him with her next intake of breath that he’d buried his face in her breasts when he’d landed on top of her.

  Shit. He felt her heart pounding beneath his ear. Her wrists strained to get free under his hands. Thank God, she couldn’t get a knee in position to take out his nuts. “Quit struggling. Give me a second and I’ll move off you.”

  “You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?” He didn’t blame her for being furious, although that was a dumb stunt she’d pulled. But something else caught his attention. Her nipple had beaded where his damp breath blew against the slinky tank top exposed by her open shirt and jacket. She was braless beneath it. Hell, it was all he could do not to capture the bud in his mouth and hum the “Hallelujah Chorus.” One thing was certain. She couldn’t be afraid of him, not when her body reacted with pulse-pounding heat to his close proximity. Of course, her words said something entirely different. “You’re fired! Do you hear me? Pick yourself up, pack your bags, and get off the property!”

  “Not before I search you for more weapons.” Unwilling to take any chances, he went through her pockets, half afraid he’d find a taser or stun gun to knock him on his ass. When he was sure she was unarmed, he rolled off her. Gaining his feet, he kicked the pepper spray under the couch and pulled her up against him. No fear in her gaze this time—only anger. “About the leaving part…I hate to disappoint, but I’m not going anywhere.”

  Pulling her jacket closed, Fin tugged a strand of hair behind an ear and snarled. Yep, she was royally pissed. If she’d had a gun, he figured he’d already be dead. She strode to an end table, snatched up the phone, and wielded it like a weapon in his direction. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops.”

  Ryan shook his head. He rocked back on his heels as he reached in a back pocket to haul out his wallet. Flipping it open, he flashed his badge with a grin. “FBI at your service, sunshine. I am the cops.”

  Chapter Two

  Fin stared at Ryan’s badge and laughed, although there was nothing funny about the situation. He stood between her and the door, effectively blocking her from leaving the guesthouse. Wonderful. She thought about phoning for help but who would she call? Not security, since he was standing in front of her waiving FBI credentials he’d most likely bought on the internet. Not her mother, who lacked the wherewithal to face off against someone like O’Shea. Poppy’s fiancé would be downing Bloody Marys by the gallon by now, and none of the other guests had arrived. So that left the cook and housekeeper—who were both about seventy years old—to help Fin toss Ryan out on his perfect butt. Forget it. Judging by the way he handled himself, she’d need a small army to do that.

  She tried humoring him instead. “Where’s Holmsby if he didn’t really have surgery?”

  Ryan pocketed his identification and stood at ease, his body language benign, as if he was one of the good guys. Nice try, but his questionable creds and lethal appearance instilled about as much trust as a kick in the teeth. “I convinced him it was a matter of national security and sent him on an all-expenses paid trip to the Caymans.”

  “Nice for him. But you lied to gain access to my mother.” He had nerve, she’d give him that. But while Holmsby might have been snookered, she didn’t believe O’Shea’s story for a minute. In fact, she was inclined to report him to the local cops. Knew she should, but wouldn’t. Involving Nantucket police would mean forcing some truth out of Poppy, whatever she was involved in, something she wasn’t sure she could do. Fin had no choice but to play along with Mr. FBI and get to the bottom of the “national security” issue herself. “What do you want?”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t already know. You and your mother are in danger.” Green eyes flashed with so-called concern from h
is damn sexy face. Fin licked her bottom lip, holding his steady gaze when what she really wanted to do was run for cover. No, he didn’t frighten her, but he attracted her, which was worse. While the illusion of interest might be her body’s way of processing adrenaline, this wasn’t the time to be curious about a man who wasn’t who he appeared to be.

  Besides, Fin was inexperienced when it came to the flirting game. Poppy’s third husband had seen to that. Always lurking and watching her, his touch making her skin crawl whenever he got her alone. Once she was old enough, she hadn’t played the victim any longer, earning a scholarship to a top culinary college in Paris. Going as far away from home as she could get. Since then, she’d made it a point to avoid big men with rough hands. Which didn’t explain the punch of heat she’d felt when Ryan landed on top of her a few minutes ago. Not something she wanted to acknowledge. Or explore.

  He was doing it again, watching her teeth sink into her bottom lip as if he wanted to cover her mouth with his. A ridiculous thought and one he didn’t act on, thank God. Fin reined in her confusion, knowing he wasn’t above using her to get to Poppy, or whatever else he wanted.

  Hands on his hips, Ryan rocked on the balls of his feet. “Your mother has five rings that don’t belong to her. The sooner I retrieve them, the safer you both will be.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The rings, damn it, her mother hadn’t told her where she’d gotten them. More to the point, Poppy had avoided the conversation. Fin wondered if Ryan was the one who broke into the L.A. house and then followed Poppy here. It made sense, didn’t it?