The mighty Quinns: Liam - By Kate Hoffmann Page 0,68

Ronald going to get off?”

Leslie shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to see how the case unfolds. But I have to warn you that Griswold will probably try to shift the blame to you. To make it seem as if you were the mastermind. We’re in for a tough fight here, Miss Thorpe. Are you ready for this?”

“Do I have a choice?” Ellie asked.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

Ellie closed her eyes, an image of Liam Quinn swimming in her head. Her words to Keely now seemed almost prophetic. She’d never be able to make a fresh start—with or without Liam—until she’d put this whole mess behind her.

And from the look on Leslie Abbott’s face, that was going to take a lot longer than Ellie had anticipated.

“HERE’S TO Ronald Pettibone. Or David Griswold. Or whoever the guy was,” Liam said, raising his pint of Guinness to Sean. “May there be many more criminals like him for you to chase—and me, too, when I need a few extra bucks.”

Sean picked up his glass and knocked it against Liam’s. “Ten years, no trial. That’s pretty good. Plus the bank got its money back and we got paid. Case closed.”

“A few months ago I was wondering where I was going to get the money to pay the rent. And now things are definitely looking up,” Liam said.

“What are you going to do with the money?” Sean asked, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl in front of him.

“I don’t know. Make some plans. I’ve got my eye on a new camera. And I thought I might do a little traveling, see if I can’t get some nice photos to show National Geographic.”

“Any other plans?” Sean asked.

“What do you mean?”

His brother shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought…”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah,” Sean said. “Ellie.”

“Let me tell you, I was relieved when Pettibone took the plea bargain,” Liam said, staring at the coaster beneath his glass. “I didn’t want to see Ellie testify. After that interview I figured it might get pretty ugly. Ellie didn’t deserve to have her personal life dragged out in public. It was a good trade. Pettibone gets to serve his sentence in a cushy country-club prison and Ellie gets to go on with her life. On the other hand I was disappointed I didn’t get to see her. I had this whole speech laid out, how I was going to apologize first and then tell her how much she means to me.”

“And now what?”

“I don’t know,” Liam said. “I guess I have to figure out another way to get her back. It’s gotta be something really great—so she can’t possibly say no.”

“And while you’re thinking something up, she’s probably getting on with her life,” Sean said.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Hell, if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.” Sean took another sip of his beer, then slid off his bar stool. “I’ve got to go. Tell Da I can tend bar tomorrow night.”

“And you and I are going to look for a wedding present for Brendan and Amy tomorrow, right? And we have to go get fitted for our tuxes, too.”

Sean nodded and waved as he strode out of the bar. Seamus wandered down to the end and picked up Liam’s nearly empty glass. “Another?” he asked.

Liam shook his head. “Nah. I better get going. Sean said he’ll work tomorrow night. And I think I’m good for the weekend.”

“Ah, you’re a pitiful sight, boyo,” Seamus commented, wiping the bar with a damp rag. “Ya sit here every night moonin’ over that girl and where does it get ya?”

“Da, I don’t need advice on my love life from you. We all know where you stand on the subject of women. Except, of course, for Ma.”

“I’m just sayin’ that ya got to stand up and be a man. Get busy livin’ or get busy lovin’. This in-between makes ya look like a bleedin’ gombeen.”

Liam grabbed his jacket. “Are you going to tell me one of those Mighty Quinn stories now?”

“Maybe you could use one,” he said.

Shaking his head, Liam started toward the door, then heard Seamus softly call his name. He glanced over and saw his father nod his head toward the other end of the bar. Ellie stood next to a bar stool near the door, her hands clutched in front of her. Liam stopped dead in his tracks and his breath froze in his throat. He’d seen her just once in the past month, those few precious seconds