In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“You two have already given me more than enough,” I said. “I’ll do just fine with the clothes I already have. Besides—” I added, trying to think of a tactful way of putting things, “I don’t want to stand out over there. It's important that I look like one of the locals. And your lovely clothes—”

Sid threw back her head and laughed. “I wasn’t suggesting lendingyou my emerald green smoking jacket, my sweet. Yes, I suppose our clothes would stand out at a provincial Irish market, wouldn’t they, Gus dear?”

“What I really meant was that cupboard full of stuff from my former life in Boston society,” Gus said. “I’m sure there is a smart, fur-trimmed traveling costume there that would suit you, Molly. And you know I’ll never wear it again, I’m sure.”

I smiled at them. “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be mingling with the smart set in Ireland. The Burkes were the poorest of peasants when they left. Their child would either have been farmed out to another peasant family or sent to an orphanage. Frankly I think it would be a miracle if she was still alive after all these years,- but I’m being paid to search for her, and search for her I will.”

“Then at least take my crocodile-skin train case,” Gus insisted. “I found it so handy when I did my European tour with my mother. Now it's just languishing on the top shelf on my wardrobe, and we want you to have something of ours with you to remind you of us.”

“And to make sure you come back quickly,” Sid added.

“We’re worried that you’ll decide to stay in Ireland,” Gus said.

“And why would I want to do that?” I laughed. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll repeat it now—there is nothing for me in Ireland. My life is here now.”

“Gus was worried that you’d realize what you’d missed if you go back there,” Sid said.

“You were worried too!” Gus tapped her hand.

“All right. I was worried too. And what about Captain Sullivan? I’m surprised he's allowing you to go.”

“He's not at all happy about it,” I said, “but there's nothing he can do to stop me, is there? And I think it will be good for me to get away from him—give me time to think about what I really want for my future. So don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine, and I’ll have a grand time and be back before you know it with tales to tell.”

“Of course you will.” Sid shot a look at Gus and suddenly I felt a shiver run up and down my spine. They were afraid for me. Was I foolish not to be afraid for myself?

The morning of the twenty-fourth came, bright and breezy, with puffy white clouds racing across the sky. A good day to be sailing, I said to Daniel, Sid, and Gus, who walked beside me to the waiting cab. I had forbidden Daniel to come to the ship to see me off. I didn’t think I could handle emotional scenes at the gangplank. And having forbidden Daniel, I could hardly allow Gus and Sid what I had denied him.

“Anyone would think I was journeying to the North Pole or across the Sahara Desert the way you three are looking at me,” I exclaimed, looking from Daniel's face to Gus's and Sid's. “Fashionable people go to Europe all the time. They pop back and forth across the Atlantic as if it were a pond. It should take me no more than a week or two at most, and then I’ll be back.”

I hugged my friends, then I went to hug Daniel.

“Good-bye, Daniel. Take care of yourself, won’t you?” I put my hands on his shoulders and brushed his cheek with my lips. His arms came fiercely around me, almost crushing the breath out of me.

“You take care of yourself,” he whispered. “No more stupid risks. Remember that I love you.”

I climbed into the cab, my heart beating very fast. I think it was the first time he had actually told me that. I looked out and waved jauntily as the cab set off up Sixth Avenue at a lively pace. The White Star Line pier was at the bottom of West Tenth Street, close enough to walk, really, and I could have saved the expense of a cab if we’d all walked together, with Daniel carrying my valise. But I had money for expenses, a letter of credit, and my stupid pride. I didn’t want to risk shedding a tear at the dockside.