Page 25 of Midnight Escape

“No, Moira. I’ve told you that you can’t drive here. That driver’s license won’t make it through a police stop. Then you’d get arrested. Then your real passport would need to be used. Then you’d probably trigger something in the system that showed a trail.” Again, he wished they could do more for her identification, but it’d been quick providing her a driver’s license to match the passport Justin had forged. The license hadn’t been for driving but for easy ID when needed. To ease his mind, he may need to speak with Jesse about helping her technically disappear and getting her documents that would hold up to scrutiny.

The brightness quickly faded, and he wanted to jump over the counter and hold her tight, promising to always take care of her.

He hated to ruin her happiness. To him, she was a breath of fresh air. Everything was new to her in the sense of how the US set their stores up. The sights, which he’d seen before, excited her, and she talked of painting a canvas of the town.

“Let’s talk about money. I’ll give you some cash and my card for whatever you need.”

She shook her head. “I thought I told you that Declan put money into an account for me.”

With his brows taking a deep dive, he wondered if she understood the change in currency. He also wondered why Declan had decided to remain in Boston, leaving his sister to a family friend rather than asking for her to join them. It was nosy, but he needed to know she wouldn’t run out of money. “How much?”

She told him a figure, and his mouth dropped.

“See,” she said confidently, “more than enough, and he plans to keep it full for me.”

He swallowed a couple times, battling the lump lodged in his throat. He’d known the family was well off, but not that much to have coming in regularly. Then again… “Where did your brother get so much money?”

She shrugged. “He said it was from our parents, and soon, I come into my full inheritance.” Her body tightened and that made him want to tickle her to find out the reason. That had been their way when they were kids. Now, he figured it would be inappropriate.

“What is it?” He reached over and snagged a cut potato.

“You shouldn’t eat that raw.”

Grinning—something he kept doing with her, he probed again, “What is it?”

When she slammed down the knife on the cutting board and looked at him with fire in her eyes, he almost wished he hadn’t pushed. This emotion was something he hadn’t seen and wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I also have to be married to collect it.”

After his initial shock, he laughed, then tossed her a grin. Even figuring his brother had been tagged for the job, he offered, “If you don’t have anyone else by then, I’ll marry you.” Where the hell had that come from and why didn’t it scare him? “Friends do it all the time.”

Her nervous laugh left him wondering whether he’d said the right thing or not. Surely, she had to know it was a joke. Although…. No, he wouldn’t think of something so far out there. When he found the right woman, he’d marry. But Moira was a friend he wanted to make happy. Oh, and have twisting-in-the-sheets sex with.

Picking up the knife and slicing, she took a moment before she spoke. “Thanks, but I won’t marry just for the money. I made a really good living in Ireland painting and can do the same when I return.”

She’d leave. Panic took hold of him and walloped his heart into beating overtime. A thought occurred to him. “If this isn’t over by then”—she looked at him sharply, but he wouldn’t stop pushing— “and you’re married, how can you collect the money without alerting anyone?”

She waved her hand with the knife—which he kept his eye on—as if his question was inconsequential, then seemed to think about it. “I hadn’t thought about that. Since I’ll be supposedly dead, Declan’s my beneficiary, so I guess he has the money. Well, he’ll be dead too.” She bit her outer lip, and Danny wanted to climb over the counter and help her. After thinking it over, she shrugged and returned to her task. “Declan will work it out when the time comes.”

He added to his list to ask Joe or Devon how secure the accounts were she was using. He couldn’t let something so simple bite them in the ass. Maybe they should transfer the money to a new account in her fake name and do it while routing and bouncing it enough to hide every converted dollar. How does that work with the general inheritance if both of them are dead?

His DEA knowledge on moving money wasn’t enough to answer those questions. According to Jesse—who was also a former FBI agent—and Devon Hamilton—former CIA and computer guru—and Boss, it’d been that DEA background that had made him so valuable to HIS. Yet, they hadn’t needed him often enough to make him feel useful.

“Moira, I’m leaving you money to spend. Don’t touch the account your brother established until I do some research.”

She stilled. “Why?”

He exhaled loudly. “Nothing. I just want everything to be safe. I want to speak with someone who is well-versed in accounts. Until then, we should proceed with caution on anything tying you to Ireland.”

Watching him and appearing to consider what he’d said, she finally nodded. “Okay. I wish this situation was done and over with.”

He agreed with that. While her situation involved threats from overseas, his hands were tied. However, since it was Boyle who was involved, he’d find out if he knew the agent stationed in Ireland and use him or her for information. Shaking his head to wonder about that later, he leaned over the bar and sniffed.

Moira laughed. “I’m still cutting it up.”

Since she’d arrived, they’d taken turns cooking, but her way was by far the best. “The smell of the bread is making my stomach growl.”

She glanced at the oven. “Potato and cheddar rolls. I enjoy it so much more than soda bread, but I love that too,” she rushed to add.

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