The Final Deception Read online

  “We ask for her?”

  Their server arrived with two glasses of water and two cups of coffee, smiling as he set them down. “There you go. Have you had a chance to look at the menu yet?” he asked.

  Danny looked at him very seriously and said, “Pie.”

  Their waiter smiled. “Pie...okay. Um, which pie?”

  “Which do you recommend?” Danny asked him. “It’s our first time here.”

  “Oh, well, we’re known for everything, not just pie!” their server said enthusiastically.

  “They say this place has always been good, but that it’s even better since Annie took over—and renamed it, I guess,” Kieran said, following her brother’s lead.

  “Annie is amazing. And the place was always wonderful! But Annie has added more desserts, and made in-house is even better. And she does things like making sure our entrées are easy to fix to taste.” He made a face. “I personally hate, loathe, and despise cilantro. And I can get guacamole here without cilantro—we make it to order!”

  “Wonderful!” Danny said, wrinkling his nose. “I’m an anticilantro person myself. I hear you either love it or hate it. But seriously, you don’t have cilantro in any of your fruit pies, do you?”

  As he spoke, Kieran gave him a light kick beneath the table. She’d seen a woman come around to the front from the kitchen.

  Annie.

  She was tall, probably about an inch or so taller than Kieran, who hovered somewhere between five-nine and five-ten. She was a redhead, but with a much lighter shade of the color, with curling waves that fell around her shoulders. She was wearing a waitress’s uniform, just like the two women behind the counter, but she headed straight to the cash register, ready to accept a bill and credit card being presented by a departing customer.

  She was pretty and vivacious.

  Danny, with his camaraderie over cilantro going on with the server, grinned suddenly. “That’s Annie now, right?”

  “It is!” the server said. “Oh, and I’m Blake. Blake Hunter.” He leaned in. “I used to be Angus Hunter, but in grade school the kids liked to call me Anus Hunter. So, thinking as how I want my name to be in lights one day, I went with my middle name—Blake—and I think it’s a lot better. Anyway, you want to meet Annie? I’ll ask her to come over.”

  “That would be great. Oh, and what’s your suggestion for pie?”

  “Blueberry, with a dollop of vanilla ice cream.”

  “We’ll take it—two orders, please. Right, Kieran?” he asked.

  “If Blake suggests it, I’m all in,” Kieran said. “And we’d love to talk to Annie.”

  Blake went off to fill their order.

  “I knew he was an actor,” Kieran said.

  “It’s New York. Everyone is an actor—in one way or another. And as our talented brother would tell you, every actor should work waiting tables and learning about people, and how to be polite and decent and all that. Because sometimes, actors get rich and famous, and they should remember what it was like not to be rich and famous.”

  “I’m not sure we can call Kevin rich and famous yet,” Kieran said. “Immensely talented, of course,” she added. “Then again, you’re also a bit of an actor.”

  “I’m a storyteller these days. I just tell real stories about the city.”

  Kieran laughed. “And you get a little carried away and really emote sometimes.”

  “Sometimes I do, but I never bore people!”

  “She’s coming,” Kieran said softly.

  Annie Sullivan was heading their way, smiling at people at other tables as she came along, checking to make sure they were all doing well.

  When she reached their table, she looked at the two of them and frowned slightly, her gaze lighting on Kieran last.

  “Hello, welcome to Annie’s. Do I know you?”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever met,” Kieran said. “Actually, we might have passed in the street. We’re two of the Finnegan siblings who own Finnegan’s on Broadway, just a few blocks from here.”

  “Oh.” Annie’s face changed immediately. She slid into the booth beside Danny, somewhat pushing him over as she did so, but entirely oblivious to it. “You’re Kieran Finnegan. I saw you on the news a few years back when you kept that girl from being killed in the subway.”

  “Oh, I, uh...yeah.” Honesty seemed the best course now. “We did come here to speak with you specifically.”

  “Raoul Nicholson,” she said grimly.

  Kieran nodded.

  “He came in every morning—well, every weekday morning—at least. He was bright, friendly, cheerful, and nice to all of the staff all of the time. I was stunned to hear what he’d done. I mean, I knew he was a bit of a fanatic...he’d bless people and sometimes make weird signs as they walked by, or as they were leaving. But he was always smiling. When he was arrested, and it came out that he was the Fireman, I was shocked.”

  “He talked to you a lot?” Kieran asked.

  “Sure. But he talked about the seasons, the weather...nothing...nothing at all about people being evil, or...he certainly never said he believed in witches, except...”

  She paused, frowning. Blake had come up with their blueberry pie and ice cream orders. He had apparently heard the last.

  “Oh my gosh!” Blake said. “This one day, there was an article in the newspaper on the amount of people involved in the Wiccan religion in the United States. And a man at the counter here was saying it shouldn’t be allowed. Raoul Nicholson was in, and he said they didn’t hurt anybody. They were misguided, and might never get to heaven, but they didn’t hurt people.”

  Kieran, Danny, and Annie were all staring at him. He blushed and apologized quickly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but hear what you were saying, Annie.”

  “It’s okay,” Annie said quickly. “I knew there was something. I couldn’t quite remember. He did say that. So, the fact he thought people were witches...there’s a difference, right? Between being a Wiccan and being a cauldron-stirring evildoer, right? Or, I guess, at least in Raoul Nicholson’s mind?”

  “I imagine,” Kieran murmured.

  “He’s still on the loose!” Blake said.

  Annie nodded and said gently, “Blake, we have customers.”

  “Yes, yes, of course!” he said, and moved on.

  Annie turned to Kieran and Danny. “You didn’t come for the pie.”

  “The pie is absolutely delicious—really. The second I saw it, I had to take a bite,” Danny told her.

  She offered him a half smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything more about Raoul Nicholson. I never saw him outside this shop. He was always nice. He was great with other customers, too. This is Sunday, so...our usual weekday crowd isn’t sitting up at the counter. I’m not sure anyone, other than the employees here, would have seen him or talked to him. We try to forget he used to be a regular here. It’s so creepy—but you must understand I bought this business from my uncle and everything I have is in it. So I have to get past the fact the Fireman hung out here, and I keep it low-key because...some people would come here specifically because Nicholson was a customer. But many, probably many more, would not.”

  “We don’t want to cause any problems for you,” Kieran assured her. “We’re just trying to find out who his friends might have been—if there was anyone he seemed to bond with particularly.”

  Annie studied her. “You think he needed help to escape, right?”

  “The way he escaped...he knew the way the infirmary worked, the way the guards worked, how to get out and off Rikers Island. Inmates have escaped before, but usually they’re found right on the island, and it’s not often at all,” Kieran told her.

  “I wish I could help. But as far as I know, he wasn’t close to anyone here. People saw him and talked to him and he talked to people, but...you know, it was all just pleasantries. ‘
Good morning, how are you doing,’ that kind of thing,” Annie said. She drummed her fingers on the table. “He had a wife. He’d say she was the best now and then. And he had sons, but he didn’t talk about them. And, of course, he had two guys who worked for him at his business. Have you talked to them?” she asked, and then she frowned. “Um...you know, cops and FBI agents were by after Raoul Nicholson was captured and they came by again when he escaped. I’m not sure why you two are asking me this kind of question.”

  She had grown wary of them. While Kieran debated what to say, Danny answered.

  “Kieran is engaged to the FBI agent who brought him in.”

  “Oh. Oh! He must be really bummed!” Annie said.

  Danny bent low suddenly and murmured, “Speak of the devil...”

  Kieran looked up. She should have been the first one to see Craig and Mike had arrived at the coffee shop—she was the one in the booth seat facing the door.

  Craig spotted her right away. She sat straight, watching as he politely informed the dark-haired woman behind the counter he and his friend were meeting others who were already seated.

  He and Mike walked to the table.

  “The devil?” Annie murmured, looking from them to Danny.

  Craig reached the table. He had his credentials out, as did Mike. He smiled pleasantly though. “Special Agent Craig Frasier, Miss Sullivan, and my partner, Special Agent Mike Dalton.”

  “Oh!” Annie said, surprised.

  She started to rise. “Please, stay,” Craig said. “I’m willing to guess these two have already been quizzing you about Raoul Nicholson.”

  He kept his voice low so other diners could not hear.

  Annie obviously appreciated that.

  Danny scooted to the far side of the booth. Annie moved closer to him, and Mike joined the duo while Craig slid in next to Kieran.

  He didn’t look her way. He kept his eyes on Annie.

  “I’ve been telling them everything I know. Which is nothing,” Annie said. But she was in a rush to repeat everything, down to the information Raoul had once told a customer that Wiccans should just be left alone—they didn’t hurt anyone.

  “Annie, can you think of anyone he might have actually been friends with, anyone he might have talked to more, or talked to outside of the restaurant?” Craig asked.

  “Not that I know about,” Annie said. “I suggested your friends here talk to his coworkers. I mean, I know he went to work every day. Or rather, when he left here, we all assumed he was on his way to work. He had a shop and two fellows who worked for him.”

  “Did they ever come in here?” Mike asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I just know about them because sometimes, when I’d made special doughnuts, he’d buy a box and say he was taking it to the boys at work. If he was close to anyone, I’d say it was them. I’m so sorry for them. I imagine they’re out of work now.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I also told your friends I’d been questioned already by cops and by agents.”

  “We’re truly sorry to bother you again,” Craig said. “We just really need to find him and get him back into custody.”

  “You do!” Annie said, nodding a strong agreement.

  Craig produced a card. “If you see or hear anything...”

  “Of course. I, uh, did suggest if you’re looking for people who might have a greater insight into his mind or activities, a morning would be a better time to come in. He was a regular right around 8:00 a.m. every day. That might be the time to come.”

  “Thank you. We’ll do that,” Craig told her.

  Kieran’s blueberry pie sat untouched, the vanilla ice cream well-melted over it.

  Craig helped himself and took a bite of it. “Wow—wonderful!” he said.

  Annie smiled. “Thank you. I can get you a fresh piece with solid ice cream—”

  “No, no, thanks. I love it melted into the blueberries.” He looked at Kieran then. “You love it this way, too, right?”

  “Yep, just yummy,” Kieran said.

  Annie looked uncomfortable. Of course, she was wedged between Danny and Mike, and the booths just weren’t that big.

  Mike rose, allowing her to stand.

  Annie was holding Craig’s card. “I’ll keep this,” she said. “And if I think of anything—if any of the staff think of anything—I’ll call you right away. Oh, and the pie is on the house!”

  “No, no, Annie, thank you, we can’t do that,” Kieran protested.

  “Leave Blake a big tip. He’s going to be out a lot on auditions next week,” Annie said, and before any of them could protest, she hurried away.

  She strode to the cash register, taking over for the dark-haired counter waitress and greeting the next customer with a bill to pay with a sweet and genuine smile.

  For a moment everyone at the table was silent.

  “Kieran, I can’t help that you are involved with this, but...pursuing it? We’re the agents—yeah, me and Mike. We do this. Danny, I can’t believe you’re helping her get deeper and deeper into the mire here,” Craig said at last.

  “Hey,” Danny protested. “You’re the fool who is marrying her!”

  “Hey, yourself!” Kieran protested, giving him a good kick beneath the table.

  She missed. Mike let out a startled howl.

  Danny leaned in and lowered his voice. “I could have let her come alone. You know Kieran. If she’s got something on her mind...”

  Craig let out an aggravated sigh, looking at Kieran. “Yep,” he said. “But this man is the worst kind of dangerous, and we don’t even know if he has an accomplice or a copycat of some kind. Your wisdom on the working of the mind is deeply appreciated, but Kieran, please...”

  She dug into her bag and set two tens on the table for Blake Hunter, the budding actor.

  “We just came for the pie,” she said.

  “I can see that—by the way you ate it all.” He stood. “Let’s all call it a day. Kieran, Danny?”

  She was aggravated to feel like a chastised child, but she didn’t feel like getting into it with him at the coffee shop or in front of Mike and Danny.

  “Sometimes,” she said with dignity standing dead in front of him, “knowledge can be—safe. The more we know, the safer everyone can be.”

  She walked by him, not sure if she’d made any sense or not.

  * * *

  Craig was starting to think that maybe it was a great thing to have a dog.

  Danny had left them at the restaurant, saying he was heading back to Finnegan’s on Broadway just in case Sunday night got busy at the pub, though it seldom did. Sunday was a laid-back time.

  Mike was keeping the car, with a plan to pick Craig up at 8:00 the next morning.

  Kieran hadn’t spoken since they’d left Annie’s Sunrise. She was pointedly quiet as they entered their building and went up to their floor. The moment they opened the door, they both heard Ruff yapping with excitement. He came flying out at them, jumping on Craig at first, and then catapulting himself against Kieran.

  She captured him in her arms and laughed, looking at Craig. “I guess he likes us.”

  “Are we keeping him?” he asked. “I mean, really keeping him?”

  “You mean as in give him a ‘forever home’? Of course, what else would we do? If we brought him to a shelter, he might well wind up being put to sleep. Why do we use that term, huh? Put to sleep! Well, he’s not a puppy, and he’s not a purebred, and...he could be described as scruffy and even ugly by some people. Of course, we need to keep him. He...he lost his owner badly. He helped you. He’s a great dog. Yes, he’s our dog now. Neither of us ever knew Olav Blom, but...it’s the least we can do for him.”

  Craig leaned in and kissed her lips.

  He hadn’t meant to offend her by being overprotective. In this case he’d been put out because she and Danny had beat hi
m to a witness who had already been questioned, but who might just know something to help the investigation. Maybe there was nothing new to discover, but they were leaving no stones unturned. He felt justified in his annoyance because Kieran should know better than to get overly involved. It had led to trouble and danger in the past.

  The search of the apartments in Mayhew’s building had yielded nothing. If his neighbors were homicidal maniacs, they were hiding it well. The building security guards were clean as a whistle.

  But someone had to know something—answers existed.

  They had to be found.

  Kieran was walking toward the guest room, Ruff still in her arms. “Hey! You used the puppy pads. You are a good, good dog.” She chatted to the pup in a silly, cheerful voice. “No messes. But then you’re used to apartment living, aren’t you? Still, we’re going to take you for walks. Just like your old master. Just like you’re used to. The neighborhood will be a bit different, but trust me, it’s fun, and you’re going to like it.”

  She looked over at Craig. “I think I should take him out.”

  “I think we should take him for a walk,” he said.

  She paused, lowering her head, a slight smile curving her lips. “Fine. I think we should take him for a walk. I’ll get his leash.”

  They went out together, running into Mr. Asher from apartment 607 in the elevator. Asher was a dog lover apparently, and was happy to see Ruff.

  “Dogs and kids—they make for real living,” he assured them.

  Ruff wagged his tail wildly when Asher bent down to pet him.

  They walked along the street. At the bodega, Mrs. Dimitri was standing in the doorway. She clucked over Ruff and told them she had just put out a fresh leg of lamb on the buffet and had a few scraps she’d love to give the pup—if that was okay.

  “The heck with the dog!” Craig said, realizing that he hadn’t eaten all day. “That sounds incredible.”

  Mrs. Dimitri frowned. She spoke English well, having come from Greece with her husband about ten years ago. But sometimes she didn’t quite understand the words that were being said.