“There will be a big farm house there on the hill with a pool and tennis courts out back, a barn over to that side, stables for horses over there, maybe a few cows and goats.”
“Goats?” I asked, looking at him sideways.
He smiled. “Goats eat grass, they will help keep the pastures cut.”
“Ah. Look at you, Farmer Brown.”
“That’s me,” he said with a sigh. “Farmer Sean Brown.”
“And when do you plan on building your house here?”
The smile faded from his lips. He let the arm drop from around my shoulders so he could fold his arms over his chest. “No idea. At least not until I can convince my dad to retire.”
“You want him to retire?”
He stared into the distance as he spoke. “Yes. I’ve been trying to get him to retire for years. As soon as he does, I’ll arrange the sale of his business and he and mom will have a nice nest egg to carry with them to Florida or wherever they decide to go.”
“And what will you do?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Practice law, maybe. Do what I was meant to do in the first place.”
I tried to study his face without staring. I asked, “So you want to sell the business? I assumed it made you a fortune.”
“The business does very well, but it’s not my business. It belongs to my dad. It’s never been mine. I take a nice salary, but I don’t own any part of it.”
“I get the feeling that you don’t like the business very much.”
He gave me a little sideways smile. “Between you and me, Claire, I hate the fucking business. I’m only involved because dad needed my help. Now I virtually run the place. Without me, it would go under. I can’t let that happen. Dad’s worked too hard. His whole life is tied up in the place.”
“I had no idea,” I said quietly.
“Don’t worry,” he said, bumping me with his elbow. “I’ll need a great secretary to keep me straight if I open a law office.”
“That’s nice to know,” I said absently.
My mind began to race. How was he going to sell a business that ran illegal goods in and out of the port? Unless he had managed to separate the bad from the good, as Lester’s source had suggested.
“Are you sorry that you took over the business?” I asked. I looped my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder. I wasn’t sure why, but I suddenly felt sorry for him. Maybe he wasn’t a criminal after all. Maybe he was just a good son put in a bad situation out of loyalty to his father. Still, that didn’t matter. If he was breaking the law he was just as guilty as his father.
“Sometimes I regret getting involved,” he said, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. “But that’s what good Irish sons do.”
“You really are a good son,” I said, reaching up to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks,” he said, finally smiling. He held out his hand. “Come on. Let me show you where the bedroom is going to be.”
Claire
Monday morning came too soon. I’d spent much
of the weekend with Sean, getting to know him better, looking for any hint that he was doing something he shouldn’t have been doing, any sign that he wasn’t the man he was presenting himself to be.
I was starting to think that he was either the best liar in the world or totally innocent of any wrongdoing. Or maybe the truth lay somewhere in between. No matter, I had to find out the truth. That’s why I was there, I kept reminding myself. That was my job.
We had checked into a little roadside motel after checking out his property and spent the rest of the day and night exploring each other’s bodies. Our lovemaking ran the gamut from total abandon to gentle tenderness wet and wild in the shower. I got to know every inch of Sean O’Connor and he got to know every inch of me… well, of Claire Goodman.
He dropped me back at my apartment on Sunday afternoon and gave me permission to come in late on Monday. I accepted his offer not because I was worn out from our sexual Olympics, but because Ed wanted to meet with me before I went to Sean’s office.
Ed showed up at my door before eight o’clock with Robbie the department’s IT guy in tow. He grunted a good morning and handed me a cup of Starbucks coffee.