Page 94 of Dublin Devil

Finn stands on the other side of the desk and points to where I need to click the mouse. I’m on the corporate website of Simpson, Jones & O’Brien, the firm my father used for all his family law issues.

When I click to join the meeting, a pop-up tells me the host has been notified, and then the screen opens to show me the interior of an elegant meeting room.

“Good morning, Ms. McGuire.” The woman who opens the call smiles at me, and then begins setting out vases of water and boxes of tissues on the conference table. “I’m Connie Flaherty, Mr. Simpson’s assistant. I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

I fight the urge to say it’s no great loss. I could tell her my father was a cruel and unfeeling mobster and that thinking of him dead and lying in his coffin gives me a warm, satisfying glow in my tummy, but I spare her the family drama.

She’s just doing her job.

“Mister Simpson stepped into the corridor to greet your mother and your brothers, dear. I’m sure they’ll be in shortly and we’ll get started.”

“That’s fine. Thank you for making it possible for me to connect remotely.”

“Of course, dear. You’re not the first to be out of the country when something like this happens. We’re prepared for any contingency.”

Little does she know that I’m less than twenty minutes from their office, but I don’t trust my mother not to try to kidnap or kill me if I were to step foot on the south side of the river.

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

“Not at all.” Connie finishes setting out seven black folders around the table and smiles at me. “Have you ever been to a reading before?”

“No. This is my first.”

“Well, there’s nothing to do but listen. Mr. Simpson will read out your father’s wishes and will explain anything that is unclear. It’s as simple as that.”

Lloyd Simpson has been one of Da’s lawyers since I was a kid. He’s smart, efficient, and I’ve always liked him—even if I don’t trust him one bit.

By his very position, he’s spent decades ensuring that my father got what he wanted. He might be a nice guy, but his loyalty to a man like Matty McGuire is telling.

Mister Simpson sweeps into view of the camera and smiles at the screen. He’s a distinguished-looking man with salt and pepper hair, tortoise-shell glasses, and an expensive suit. “It’s wonderful to see you, Piper. I’m glad you could make it for the reading. You’re looking as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, Mister Simpson. Kind of you to say so.”

I watch as my mother, Niall, Darcy, Brody, and Rory each take their seats. When Mr. Simpson sits and flips open the front of one of the black folders, I stare at the empty seat.

Who is supposed to be sitting there?

They knew I wasn’t coming, so who gets that folder?

And then, he comes into view and takes a seat.

Billy Gravely.

Sean is standing out of view and I’m not sure what he sees in my expression, but his gaze hardens.

What’s wrong?He mouths.

I write on a notepad and hold it up for him to see.

Billy’s not dead. Why is he there?

There’s no time to come up with an answer before Mister Simpson clears his throat. “All right. Let’s get started, shall we?”

He picks up a stapled document and reads aloud.I, Matthew Terrance McGuire,being of sound mind and body…

I bark a laugh and then cover my outburst with a cough. “Sorry. Carry on.”

I hit the button to mute myself and make eyes at Sean. “Sorry. The whole ‘sound mind’ thing caught me off guard. I suppose the will wouldn’t be valid if it started:I, Matthew McGuire, being fucking nuts…”

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