name is Gillian.”
“Yeah, well, toss the stuff in the suitcase. We’re going to check out as soon as— Rory? Well, so how the devil are you? It’s Colin.”
Gillian’s brows went up. In mid-sentence his voice had changed from a lazy American drawl to a musical Irish brogue. Colin, was it? she thought, folding her arms.
“Aye. No, I’m fit. Right as rain. How’s Bridget? Not again. My God, Rory, do the two of you plan to populate Ireland by yourselves?” As he listened, Trace glanced up long enough to give her a mild look and gestured toward the bureau. With more noise than grace, Gillian began yanking out his clothes.
“I’m glad to hear it. No, I don’t know when I might be back. No, no trouble, nothing to speak of, in any case, but I wondered if you’d do me a favor.” He watched Gillian heap his clothes into the suitcase and took a pull on the beer. “I’m grateful. There was a plane, probably private, that left the airport in Cork ten days ago. I don’t want you to ask who was on board or why. Understand? That’s a lad. Just nose around and see if you can find out the destination. Lacking that, find out how many miles she was fueled for and where she might have put down to be refueled. I’ll take it from there … Important enough,” he went on after a pause, “but nothing you should take risks for … No.” And this time he laughed. “Nothing to do with the IRA. It’s more of a personal matter. No, I’m traveling. I’ll get back to you. Kiss Bridget for me, but try to keep it at that. I don’t want to beresponsible for another baby.”
He hung up and looked at the twisted, mangled clothes in his suitcase. “Nice job.”
“And what was that all about … Colin?”
“That was about finding out where your brother is. You’d better toss whatever you want to keep in there, too. We’ll deal with getting you another suitcase later.” He was up and stuffing his snorkeling gear into a tote.
“Why the accent and the false name? It sounded to me as though that man was your friend.”
“He is.” Trace went to gather up the things in the bath.
“If he’s your friend,” Gillian insisted as she tailed behind him, “why doesn’t he know who you are?”
Trace glanced up and caught his own reflection in the mirror. His own face, his own eyes. Why was it that too often he didn’t recognize himself? He dumped toothpaste and a bottle of aspirin into a travel kit. “I don’t use my name when I’m working.”
“You checked in as Trace O’Hurley.”
“I’m on vacation.”
“If he’s your friend, why do you lie to him?”
He picked up his razor and examined the blade very carefully before he dropped it in the case. “He was a kid mixed up in a bad situation a few years ago. Gunrunning.”
“That’s what you meant by the IRA?”
“You know, Doc, you ask too many questions.”
“I’m trusting the most precious things in my life to you. I’ll ask questions.”
He zipped the travel kit in one impatient movement. “I was on assignment when I ran into him, and I was using the name Colin Sweeney.”
“He must be a very good friend to agree to do you this kind of a favor without any questions.”
Trace had saved his life, but he didn’t want to think about that. He’d saved lives, and he’d taken them. He didn’t want to think about either at the moment. “That’s right. Now can we finish packing and get out of here before someone pays us a visit?”
“I have another question.”
He let out a little laugh. “Am I surprised?”
“What was the name you gave that man this afternoon?”
“Just a nickname I picked up a few years back in Italy.” He stepped forward, but she didn’t move away from the door.
“Why did you give it to him?”
“Because I wanted whoever gives the orders to know who was coming for him.” Brushing past her, he dumped the rest of his things into the suitcase and snapped it shut. “Let’s go.”
“What does it mean?”
He walked
“Yeah, well, toss the stuff in the suitcase. We’re going to check out as soon as— Rory? Well, so how the devil are you? It’s Colin.”
Gillian’s brows went up. In mid-sentence his voice had changed from a lazy American drawl to a musical Irish brogue. Colin, was it? she thought, folding her arms.
“Aye. No, I’m fit. Right as rain. How’s Bridget? Not again. My God, Rory, do the two of you plan to populate Ireland by yourselves?” As he listened, Trace glanced up long enough to give her a mild look and gestured toward the bureau. With more noise than grace, Gillian began yanking out his clothes.
“I’m glad to hear it. No, I don’t know when I might be back. No, no trouble, nothing to speak of, in any case, but I wondered if you’d do me a favor.” He watched Gillian heap his clothes into the suitcase and took a pull on the beer. “I’m grateful. There was a plane, probably private, that left the airport in Cork ten days ago. I don’t want you to ask who was on board or why. Understand? That’s a lad. Just nose around and see if you can find out the destination. Lacking that, find out how many miles she was fueled for and where she might have put down to be refueled. I’ll take it from there … Important enough,” he went on after a pause, “but nothing you should take risks for … No.” And this time he laughed. “Nothing to do with the IRA. It’s more of a personal matter. No, I’m traveling. I’ll get back to you. Kiss Bridget for me, but try to keep it at that. I don’t want to beresponsible for another baby.”
He hung up and looked at the twisted, mangled clothes in his suitcase. “Nice job.”
“And what was that all about … Colin?”
“That was about finding out where your brother is. You’d better toss whatever you want to keep in there, too. We’ll deal with getting you another suitcase later.” He was up and stuffing his snorkeling gear into a tote.
“Why the accent and the false name? It sounded to me as though that man was your friend.”
“He is.” Trace went to gather up the things in the bath.
“If he’s your friend,” Gillian insisted as she tailed behind him, “why doesn’t he know who you are?”
Trace glanced up and caught his own reflection in the mirror. His own face, his own eyes. Why was it that too often he didn’t recognize himself? He dumped toothpaste and a bottle of aspirin into a travel kit. “I don’t use my name when I’m working.”
“You checked in as Trace O’Hurley.”
“I’m on vacation.”
“If he’s your friend, why do you lie to him?”
He picked up his razor and examined the blade very carefully before he dropped it in the case. “He was a kid mixed up in a bad situation a few years ago. Gunrunning.”
“That’s what you meant by the IRA?”
“You know, Doc, you ask too many questions.”
“I’m trusting the most precious things in my life to you. I’ll ask questions.”
He zipped the travel kit in one impatient movement. “I was on assignment when I ran into him, and I was using the name Colin Sweeney.”
“He must be a very good friend to agree to do you this kind of a favor without any questions.”
Trace had saved his life, but he didn’t want to think about that. He’d saved lives, and he’d taken them. He didn’t want to think about either at the moment. “That’s right. Now can we finish packing and get out of here before someone pays us a visit?”
“I have another question.”
He let out a little laugh. “Am I surprised?”
“What was the name you gave that man this afternoon?”
“Just a nickname I picked up a few years back in Italy.” He stepped forward, but she didn’t move away from the door.
“Why did you give it to him?”
“Because I wanted whoever gives the orders to know who was coming for him.” Brushing past her, he dumped the rest of his things into the suitcase and snapped it shut. “Let’s go.”
“What does it mean?”
He walked
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