51

“Dermot and all you jolly good fellows, this is your captain speaking.”

Dermot opened his eyes slowly, awakening with a heavy heart. He had been dreaming that he was back in his childhood home in Ireland with his parents. His family had been so poor. The realization that he was in his own private plane surrounded by his friends cheered him up slightly, but he missed his mother so much. He’d never found a woman like her.

“We have made unbelievably good time,” the captain continued. “Strong tailwinds were in our favor. We’re really flying, folks. We’ll be touching down in another hour.”

“That’s grand!” Dermot cried as he looked around at his buddies who were yawning, stretching, and rubbing their eyes. “Coffee anyone?”

Mumbles of assent were heard throughout the cabin.

“Yes.”

“Sure.”

“Love some, as long as you’re not making it, Dermot.”

Dermot laughed and clapped his hands. “We’ll have breakfast, get refreshed, and before you know it, we’ll be out on the links.”

“You’re the man,” Dermot’s pal Josh said affectionately, giving Dermot’s shoulder a quick pat as he stood and stretched his long legs.

Dermot looked up at his tall friend, a scratch golfer who had recently retired after a successful career as a stockbroker. “On this trip I’m finally going to beat you at a round of golf. I can feel it in my Irish bones!” Dermot said gleefully, his eyes twinkling.

Josh smiled. “No, you won’t.”

Dermot chuckled. Life was good. He turned and looked out the window. A blanket of clouds surrounded the plane. Back to my homeland, he thought. I should do this more often. I’m already enjoying myself. But the best part of this trip is going to be when I finally feast my eyes on those paintings.

And it won’t be long now. We’re way ahead of schedule.

52

Margaret scurried into the entrance of the Get in Shape gym. “Where’s Coach?” she asked the receptionist, who looked positively bleary-eyed.

Clara, who had been up all night talking to Maebeth about her appearance on Gerard Reilly’s radio show, feebly lifted her index finger and pointed. “That way.”

Margaret barely noticed the grunting and groaning bodies in the workout room as she hurried past them to Rory’s office. The moment he saw her appear in the doorway, he stood to greet her.

“Margaret, it’s good to see you! Do you have time for fifteen minutes on the treadmill? Wait a minute: What happened to your tooth?”

“You sent me to a lousy dentist, that’s what happened. Dr. Sharkey wasn’t kidding when he called the cap he made temporary. He gave a whole new meaning to the word. The cap fell out as soon as I bit into a piece of buttered toast this morning. I can’t worry about it now. I have other things to think about, such as my painting. I need to have it now, please. I promise I’ll paint you a new one right away.”

“I’m sorry, Margaret. Dr. Sharkey seemed like such a nice fella when he ran with his mother in the Fun Run.”

“That doesn’t make him a good dentist. Just because I’m a nice person doesn’t mean I’m a good artist. But I am!”

Rory blinked. This wasn’t the Margaret he knew. “You’re a great painter. I told you that.”

“I know you did. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take my painting. I’ve got to get to work.”

“Do you want me to call Dr. Sharkey and see if he can squeeze you in right now? Maybe he can do something to hold you over until-”

“Is that whiskey in your teacup?” Margaret barked. “I wouldn’t go back to him if every tooth in my head was about to fall out. Wait a second.” She fished in the pocket of her gray uniform dress and pulled out the cap. “Take a look. Is this the worst-looking thing you’ve ever seen?”

Rory winced. “It’s pretty bad.”

“Thank you.” Margaret put it back in her pocket. “Now I’ll take my painting.” She turned to face the wall where it hung. Shaking her head, she regarded her work of art with great admiration. Her initials in the bottom corner, MR, made Margaret’s heart swell. She had always been secretly pleased that she and May Reilly had the same initials. She felt as though they were kindred spirits. But May Reilly got credit for her beautiful tablecloth. “You know something, Coach?” Margaret finally asked.

“What?”

“No more initials. From now on I’m signing Margaret Raftery to everything I paint, sketch, or scrub! I want to take credit for every bed I make, every table I polish-”

“That’s the spirit!” Rory said encouragingly. “And you’ll have more energy for all your activities if you work out at least three times a week.”

Margaret grabbed the painting and, as though on wings, floated back out to the car.

“Done!” she said to the smiling O’Sheas. “The last of the seven paintings I promised.” She rolled her eyes. “It was grand doing business with you. Next time you won’t get them so cheap.” She turned the key in the ignition and revved up her old jalopy.

“Last stop, Hennessy Castle!” Brian said joyfully.

“Our last stop,” Sheila said from the backseat.

Somehow the words hung in the air.

53

Gerard Reilly arrived at work earlier than usual on Wednesday morning. He wanted to see if there had been any response to the appeal for listeners to call in about the Jane and John Doe case. But there hadn’t been anything worthwhile. One listener, who obviously hadn’t heard the whole show, reported that his neighbor laughed like a hyena. The neighbor was sixteen and lived with his parents.

Someone else called to say that there should be more laughter in the world, no matter what. The sound of laughter, however strange, reverberates through the universe and results in positive vibrations for everyone, she had explained.

Oh, goodness! Gerard thought. Get a grip. He sat at his desk and sighed. Regan and Jack were such a lovely couple. He knew how happy Nora and Luke were that Regan had found such a wonderful man. I would so much like to help them solve this case.

His phone rang. It was Shane Magillicuddy.

“Shane, it was grand having you on the show last night.”

“Oh, I enjoyed it, Gerard. I certainly did. But listen to this. In the middle of the night, someone broke into my house.”

“What?” Gerard said, sitting forward in his chair, his expression intense. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks to my watchdog, Tiger. He’s my guardian angel and my best friend. He ran after the intruder and chased him away.”

“Oh, Shane, I’m so sorry. I hope it wasn’t someone who heard you on the show last night and wanted to find the rings.”

“Who knows? But don’t worry about it. There was so much press about the rings before your show.”

“Did you call the garda?”

“I did this morning when I realized the lock on the back door had been picked. Last night I didn’t get out of bed when Tiger started barking and running around because I didn’t hear anything unusual. And barking is what he likes to do best! I didn’t even know I’d been broken into until I went into the kitchen a little while ago to make a cup of tea. The garda came right away. They just left.”

“Did they find anything that might help them figure out who the intruder might be?”

Shane laughed. “Only one thing.”

“What?”

“An ugly cap.”

“A baseball cap?”

“No! A cap for someone’s tooth. It was on the kitchen floor under the table. There were also a few tiny specks of blood. I couldn’t see anything, but the garda certainly noticed them. What I did see was a cap that was really brutal. It even had a little red smiley face on the inside. Can you believe? I’m telling you, if I were the thief, I’d find myself a new dentist.”

“Where is the cap now?”

“The officers put it in a plastic bag and took it with them. I certainly didn’t want it.”