Page 32 of The Devil's Price

I've thought of this too, how late in the trial it is. There doesn't seem to be a good way to incorporate Sean's testimony now, but if they got the man who did this and arrested him, Sean would be able to testify against that man. I just have to stop this nonsense case against Mick and it doesn’t seem possible.

"Mick's right, Mr. O’Rourke." Quinn grunts out his response, and I scowl at him. "Callahan isn't so easy to work with on a normal day, but something crawled up his ass. He's not working with us at all."

So the dirty judge wants to play hardball? I'll just have to get to Siobhan and have her call the new witness, and maybe they'llhave to do something then. If the judge thinks it's a way to make this case a knockout, then he'll let her do it.

"I'll find a way, guys. Mick, don't lose hope." I pat his hand as I stand and walk toward the hallway where I saw Siobhan disappear. We have about five minutes left in the recess, so I have only a few minutes to find her and communicate what I need.

When I walk into the hall, I see her leaving the toilets. That Garda friend of hers is here too, standing down the hallway watching things. I walk up to her but as I do, she backs away, giving me a discouraging look. Her back is to the detective Garda and I can tell she's not trying to anger me. She's afraid. Her eyes are twitching, narrowed.

"Sib," I whisper.

"Not now, Finn," she hisses. Her eyes flick back at the Garda at the end of the hallway watching us. His ominous stare tells me he knows something is going on. He's the one who put the wire on her that night before our dinner at that restaurant. I would bet my fortune on it.

His smug expression holds firm as he locks eyes with me and Siobhan walks past me back into the courtroom. This man really has a problem with me, and I'm about to take that stick shoved up his ass and twist it a little. I won’t let him come between me and her, though I do respect her not wanting to make waves right now. He's just doing his job, but he's totally off base and I intend to make him see the light.

Glancing over my shoulder at Siobhan, who disappears into the courtroom, followed by the two men I know are her security team, I turn back toward our Garda friend. But he's gone,vanished in the time it took me to watch Sib return to the relative safety of the courtroom.

I jog to the end of the hallway and turn the corner. He's not there. So I duck into the men's room and he's not in there either. It's empty. Like a ghost in the darkness, he's gone, dissolved into thin air. He knows I won't fuck around with him. He's probably encountered other men like me, probably even seen me coming and going from her place. Maybe he's the reason she's scared to be seen with me, or maybe it's the threat to her career.

Straightening my tie, I know I'm not going to get anywhere today, at least not in this courthouse. Siobhan is safe with her guards, and I have more work to do. She'll never convince the judge to drop the charges, and if I'm right and he's really as dirty as I think, he'll sooner kill her or let the Doyles do it to cause a mistrial. Then he'd pay off someone or blackmail them into pinning it on Mick.

The only way to stop this train now is to get ahead of it and change the course. I have to show the world Mick is innocent, even if I have to take Sean McCarty to the Leinster House and bring news media out for him to tell his side of the story on national news. It would surely get the court's attention and McVeigh would pause the proceedings and make sure to hear McCarty's full testimony before the jury was allowed to decide.

It could be the only way—assuming McVeigh isn't dirty too.

23

SIOBHAN

"Who's the muscle?" Liam asks me as I approach the bathrooms. He's been here all afternoon as we've been hearing testimony. He has a job to do but he's unnaturally fascinated with this case for some reason. Maybe because it's my first murder trial, or maybe because he's the lead detective Garda on this case.

I glance over my shoulder at Kyle and Erick, both hired hands that Finn insists I have with me at all times. I'm not fighting him. I can't have his buddies following me, but these muscle heads stick out like sore thumbs. Still, I feel safer with them around me. Whoever is out to get me will have two brick walls to go through before they can reach me.

"I took Callahan's advice and hired security. Can't be too safe," I tell him, but I don't pause to talk to him. I walk right into the bathroom and lean over the sink, splashing cold water on my face. I don't have to use the toilet, but I may throw up. Morning sickness makes my stomach my worst enemy. I haven't eaten breakfast in more than a week. If I do, it ends up all over me or whatever I'm around. As it stands, I throw up bile at least dailynow. Finn has to sense something, unless he's so distracted with the case that he, too, can't see past his nose.

"Feeling okay?" a woman asks. I don't know how she's connected to all of this but I've seen her in the courtroom. Maybe she's just a reporter, but it's not in my best interests to buddy up to anyone.

"I'm good, thanks. Just feeling ill still." Most of these people who've been at court daily have seen me throw up a few times. It's not cold and flu season but it doesn’t mean people don't get sick.

"I have a mint," she offers, digging into her purse, and I thank her as I take it.

I stick the mint in my pocket and unspool a bit of scratchy brown paper towel to dry my face. The bathroom empties. It's just me staring at my reflection. I can't believe I'm a puppet on a string, sitting back and watching Callahan screw this case and Mick O'Connor. He may well be guilty as hell, but he's not getting a fair trial, not if the judge over the proceedings can't hear all the testimony fairly.

And Finn… bless his heart. Every time I see him, I want to run into his arms, bury my face in his chest, and hide from the harsh truth that the world isn't what it seems. He says he has a verified eyewitness, one who was nearly killed by the Doyle syndicate because he saw the murder. But there's no way to get him on the stand now. I've gone to McVeigh, told him everything I know. His only answer is to stick it out, to wait and see how things develop. I don't know why he doesn't just pull the plug now.

Glancing at my watch, I see I've only got five minutes left. I toss the paper towel and head back into the hallway. Liam is therestill, watching me. He scowls at me as I exit the ladies’ room and cuts me off so I can't walk freely.

"I'm sorry, Siobhan, about the other day." He's not sorry. That expression on his face is ravenous. If I were alone with him right now, he'd try it again. I've seen that same look on his face for months now. He's a predator. I feel sorry for his wife.

"I can't do this, Liam." I want to turn away but he grabs my wrist and holds me there. I glance around, wondering what people might be thinking as they watch him handle me. "Let go of me," I hiss quietly.

"I told you that people are watching, and I was trying my best to be a good friend and protect you, Siobhan." His voice is low, threatening.

"Liam, you're hurting me," I whimper. Why would he be this way with me? I don't understand if he's trying to protect me, why he'd threaten me.

"Look at me," he snarls, and I stop trying to pull away from him and meet his gaze. "I'm telling you to just back off. Get O'Rourke out of your life. Do what you're supposed to be doing—do your job." His eyes darken and narrow, and I feel a shudder of fear. "And finish this case before something bad happens. Please."

There's a sense of urgency in his tone. I see the way he looks at me, almost fearful but too intimidating for me to connect with any real depth of emotion. Liam knows something I don’t know and he's worried about me. He looses my wrist, and I rub it for a second before turning away. If he's in on this or knows something about the case, does that mean he's dirty too?

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