What an idiot, Anna thought as she continued reading.

Joyce returned to Galway where he found his true love still unmarried and waiting for him. He presented her with a ring whose design featured two hands holding a heart topped with a crown. The couple married, and together they lovingly made copies of her ring for the next forty years. Jewelers in Ireland and now the world over have been making Claddagh rings ever since. The announcement that Joyce’s five recently discovered rings will be available for sale is cause for excitement. The rings bear his stamp and are sure to fetch untold sums when they are put up for auction in Galway on Friday, April 15.

That’s this Friday, Anna thought. Then she looked at the date on the paper. It was a week old. She continued to read:

A cocktail party will be held at the Galway Arts Center where the rings will be on display before the 8 P.M. auction. The owner of the house where the rings were found plans to give half the proceeds from the sale of the rings to various Irish charities.

Not if I can help it, Anna thought excitedly. We’re going to steal those rings and sell them for a fortune on the black market. How many wealthy Irish around the world would love to have an original Claddagh ring? Wait until Bobby hears this! He’s bored sitting around the cottage, and so am I. We need to do something to make us feel alive. I told him I’d find something fun. I just hope this wacky dentist can make a decent-looking cap for him.

She could hear Bobby through the wall, laughing and talking loudly. That nitrous must be starting to affect him. She cocked her head to listen.

“We love to travel, just love it. We go all over. Henh, henh, henh. Henh, henh. Yes, we’re American. That’s your mother working out there, huh? My wife was admiring her pin. You picked it out? Super! My wife loves nice jewelry, too. I mean she really likes nice jewelry. I mean really, really, really likes jewelry. Henh, henh, henh, henh, henh, henh.”

Anna jumped up and yanked open the door to the treatment room. Dr. Sharkey looked at her with a shocked expression. Bobby’s face was covered with a mask, and, not surprisingly, he didn’t budge.

“Is anything wrong?” Dr. Sharkey asked.

“I heard my husband laughing. He shouldn’t have that gas. He has a little heart problem,” Anna said, gesturing toward her chest.

“A heart problem? He didn’t tell me that. That’s why we want you to fill out those awful forms!” Dr. Sharkey turned, shut off the gas, and then tapped Bobby on the shoulder. “You’re a scoundrel!”

“But-henh, henh.”

“Sweetie, no gas,” Anna said firmly.

“But I-”

“No.”

“I won’t let him have any more of the funny stuff,” Dr. Sharkey promised. “I’ll tell him jokes to make him laugh. Now, if you’ll go back to the waiting room, I’ll have him looking gorgeous in no time.”

Average, Anna thought. Just make him look average.

17

Regan and Jack stopped to talk to Clara on the way out of the Get in Shape gym. They showed her the list of people who had signed up at the last minute for the Fun Run in November.

“I don’t know any of them,” Clara said, shaking her head and tugging on one of her many earrings.

“Rory told us that one couple signed up right before the race started and signed a registration form, but their handwriting was so bad, he couldn’t read their names to add them to the final list of runners. Is there any chance you remember them?” Regan asked. “I know it was five months ago,” she acknowledged.

“Oh, those two! I remember them.” Clara scrunched her nose and started to laugh.

“You remember them?” Jack asked, surprise in his voice.

“For sure. They came running up to the table at the last minute. He signed their names super-fast, paid the money, and they pinned on their numbers. Then they dashed off to the starting line but didn’t get far. She tripped on her shoelace and fell. The guy started laughing really hard. I mean, he helped her up, and she was okay. I remember it because his laugh was so weird. A friend was helping me with the registration, and we started cracking up, and the fella started laughing even harder. He thought we were laughing at his wife, but we were laughing at his laugh.” She shook her head, smiling at the memory. “My friend and I still joke about his stupid laugh. It’s silly, but it’s one of those things.”

“I understand,” Regan said, thinking of how she and her best friend, Kit, still reminisced about some of the memorable characters they had met since college. “What was the laugh like?” she asked.

“I’m not as good as my friend is at it,” Clara said. “Maebeth is a perfect mimic.”

“Could you try?” Regan asked.

Clara smiled. “Okay. It was-” she scrunched up her face-“Hey, hey, hey. No, wait a minute. It didn’t sound like that. It was hey, hey, hey.” Clara grimaced. “Wait a second.” She picked up the phone and dialed at the speed of sound. “Maebeth, I need for you to do the laugh… I’ll explain later… Let me put you on speaker phone.”

“Hellllllo,” Maebeth said playfully, her Irish lilting voice coming through loud and clear. “Here I ammmmm.” She sounded so young and happy.

“Okay, go,” Clara ordered. “Do it.”

“Henh, henh. Henh, henh, henh.”

“That’s perfect!” Clara exulted. “Do a couple more.”

“Henh, henh. Henh, henh, henh.”

The two friends started to guffaw.

“Thanks, Maebeth. I’ll ring you later-”

“Wait a minute,” Regan interrupted. “Since we have Maebeth on the phone, can we ask you a few more questions?”

“Sure,” Clara answered. “Maebeth, some people here need information about the fella with the laugh and his wife.”

“Henh, henh, henh, henh,” Maebeth continued for good measure. “Henh, henh, henh, henh-”

“That’s great, Maebeth,” Regan said. “Can you give us a description of what they looked like?”

“They were wearing caps and big sunglasses and windbreakers. They both had brown hair and looked as old as my parents. You know, in their forties,” Maebeth volunteered. “But unlike my parents you could tell they both worked out a lot. Not an extra kilo on either one of them.”

“Anything unusual about them at all?” Jack asked. “Besides the laugh?” he added.

“Isn’t the laugh enough?” Clara giggled.

Not really, Regan thought. We’re looking for an average middle-aged couple. Male possibly has a distinguishing laugh. We could use more help. “What nationality were they?” Regan asked.

“American,” both girls answered.

Jack gave Clara his card. “Thank you, girls, so much. If you remember anything else about those two, or anything unusual about the race, please let us know.”

“Sure.”

Out in the car, Regan and Jack looked at each other. “What now?” Regan asked. “Go tell jokes to everyone we meet. Stake out comedy clubs?”

Jack rubbed his eyes. “Call your cousin Gerard. If he knows everything going on in Galway, maybe he can help us with these names.”

Twenty minutes later they were walking into Gerard’s office at a small radio station in the center of Galway.