that St. Patrick's Day was coming. The corned beef and green beer would both be ever present on that day. Cindy knew from experience, though, that they dyed 7-Up green as well for those who weren't imbibing.
"I'll do everything I can," she heard a familiar voice say from the booth behind her.
She turned and saw Gary sitting with a man about ten years his senior with salt and pepper hair and a strong jaw.
"Frank Butler has been sniffing around that property. He'd love to beat me out of it, but I won't let that happen. I won't let anything get in my way. I will have that property."
"I understand, Mr. Diamond," Gary said.
"I'm not sure you do, Gary, but that's okay. I just need you to keep talking to that board, remind them how good my offer is. I'll take care of the rest."
It sounded ominous to her and she couldn't help but stare at the land developer in fascination.
He drained his drink, stood up and buttoned his jacket, and then exited the bar. Cindy turned back around, feeling guilty for spying. After what Joseph had told her, though, she was curious.
A minute later the dart players wrapped up their game.Now would be the time to take her chance to play. She started to stand up and a hand descended on her shoulder.
"Needed another corned beef sandwich, huh?"
She looked up to see Gary. He was smiling, but his face and eyes looked strained.
"What can I say? They're just that good."
"Chris! Come here, you've got to meet one of your biggest fans," Gary said, gesturing to the taller of the dart players.
Chris walked over and extended his hand. Cindy shook it as Gary did the introductions. "Chris, this is one of my clients, Cindy Preston. She's a fan of your corned beef sandwiches.Cindy, this is my brother, Chris, who owns the pub."
"It's nice to meet you," Cindy said, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"An' it be a pleasure to meet anyone who loves me corned beef, particularly a pretty lass," Chris said in a thick Irish brogue. He winked and leaned in close. "The customers appreciate it if ye have a bit o' the Irish about ya."
"Oh, I see," she said, not sure what else to say.
Both men laughed and Cindy had the uneasy feeling that the joke was on her. "Can I interest ya in a friendly game o' darts?"
"No, thank you," she said. It was bad enough to make a spectacle out of herself in front of strangers, but with Gary there and now having met his brother she wasn't sure she wanted to embarrass herself that way.
"Not much for darts?"
She shrugged, not really wanting to explain herself.
Both men laughed again. "I'll check on your sandwich," Chris said.
Gary sat across from her. "I can't believe you two haven't met. Most nights he's out here talking with all the customers, playing darts."
"I've never come for dinner before, only lunch," she explained.
"That makes sense then."
"Anything new about the house?" she asked after a minute of silence stretched between them.
"Since yesterday? No."
Chris returned with her sandwich and set it down with a wink and a flourish.
"He's quite a character," Cindy said after he had gone.
"Always has been. Even when we were kids he was larger than life. And I was the baby brother he took care of. I wouldn't have made it as far as I have without him," Gary admitted.
"It's nice to have someone you can rely on," Cindy said, wishing that she felt that way about someone.
What about Jeremiah? a voice whispered in her head.
"It's more than nice. But then I guess we do anything for family, you know?"
Cindy didn't say anything. Instead she just picked up her sandwich and bit into it. I would have done anything for my sister, she thought before she could stop herself.
"So, you planning on getting your Irish on next week?"
"Absolutely," she said, still chewing.
"One day a year the whole world is Irish. It's fun for most, but it's important for those of us who are Irish to remember our roots, our culture."
"Your family?"
"Exactly," he said with a broad grin.
Cindy was a quarter Irish on her father's side, but she had no desire to share that with Gary. She wished he would get the hint and go away. She wanted to be alone.
You don't want a family? the insidious voice pressed.
She sighed and wondered if she ignored the voice and Gary long enough whether they would both go away.
Mark hated breaking bad news to relatives. Randall Kelly's sister, Maureen, was sitting in a chair in her living room, her luggage forgotten by the front door. She had just arrived home from a business trip and he and Paul had finally been able to get hold of her to tell her about her brother's death.
"I don't understand how this could have happened," she said once her sobbing had eased.
"Did you know that your brother was going to protest the planned burn yesterday?" Paul asked.
She shook her head violently. "No, he would never have done that. Not after what happened a few years ago. He managed to keep the fire department from doing the burn on time and a real fire started and several people lost their houses and everything they owned. A lot of people blamed Randall for that, but not any more than he blamed himself. He locked himself in his house for three weeks. He wouldn't even see me.There's no way he would have done that."
"Are you sure?" Mark asked.
"Positive. He wasn't even supposed to be here Thursday morning. He was supposed to be going up to that church camp that the land developer is trying to buy. He wanted to see it for himself before trying to rally the community in opposition to the proposed purchase."
Mark and Paul exchanged quick glances. "You wouldn't happen to know the name of the camp, would you?" Mark asked.
She squeezed her eyes closed. "It sounded like that old TV show Green Acres . . . Green . . . Green Pastures."
"Green Pastures?" Paul repeated.
"Yes. He was planning on protesting the sale."
Two victims and both of them having something to do with the church camp. Mark didn't like it.
"Is there any reason you can think of that he would
