No one writes suspense like Heather Graham! Read this brand-new romantic thriller by one of today’s most popular authors…
There’s a pub in New York City that’s been in the Finnegan family for generations. Now Kieran and her three brothers own it. Kieran Finnegan is also, as it happens, a criminal psychologist—a fitting reaction, perhaps, to her less-than-lawful teenage past.
Meanwhile, New York’s Diamond District has been hit by a rash of thefts. No one’s been killed—until now. FBI agent Craig Frasier is brought in to investigate; he and Kieran meet at a jewelry store in the middle of a heist. She’s there to “unsteal” a flawless stone taken by her light-fingered youngest brother as an act of vengeance. Craig’s there to stop the gang.
But the police and FBI begin to wonder if there are two gangs of diamond thieves, the original and a copycat group of killers—who seem to think their scheme is as flawless as the stones they steal.
Thrown together by circumstance, drawn together by attraction, Kieran and Craig are both assigned to the case. But to Kieran’s horror, there’s more and more evidence that, somehow, the pub is involved. Because everyone goes to Finnegan’s…
Also by HEATHER GRAHAM:
THE HIDDEN
THE FORGOTTEN
THE SILENCED
THE DEAD PLAY ON
THE BETRAYED
THE HEXED
THE CURSED
WAKING THE DEAD
THE NIGHT IS FOREVER
THE NIGHT IS ALIVE
THE NIGHT IS WATCHING
LET THE DEAD SLEEP
THE UNINVITED
THE UNSPOKEN
THE UNHOLY
THE UNSEEN
AN ANGEL FOR CHRISTMAS
THE EVIL INSIDE
SACRED EVIL
HEART OF EVIL
PHANTOM EVIL
NIGHT OF THE VAMPIRES
THE KEEPERS
GHOST MOON
GHOST NIGHT
GHOST SHADOW
THE KILLING EDGE
NIGHT OF THE WOLVES
HOME IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS
UNHALLOWED GROUND
DUST TO DUST
NIGHTWALKER
DEADLY GIFT
DEADLY HARVEST
DEADLY NIGHT
THE DEATH DEALER
THE LAST NOEL
THE SÉANCE
BLOOD RED
THE DEAD ROOM
KISS OF DARKNESS
THE VISION
THE ISLAND
GHOST WALK
KILLING KELLY
THE PRESENCE
DEAD ON THE DANCE FLOOR
PICTURE ME DEAD
HAUNTED
HURRICANE BAY
A SEASON OF MIRACLES
NIGHT OF THE BLACKBIRD
NEVER SLEEP WITH STRANGERS
EYES OF FIRE
SLOW BURN
NIGHT HEAT
* * * * *
Look for Heather Graham’s next novel
HAUNTED DESTINY
available soon from MIRA Books.
HEATHER
GRAHAM
Flawless
Dedicated to NYC—overcrowded, crazy,
wonderful, diverse,
filled with history, theater,
music, art, architecture
and wonders that can be seen nowhere else.
To the resiliency of
those who live and work
in this great American city.
And to Mr. Korbin Pozzessere,
whose parents,
Derek Pozzessere and Yevgeniya Yeretskaya,
somehow met and fell in love in this
massive sea of people!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EXCERT FROM HAUNTED DESTINY BY HEATHER GRAHAM
CHAPTER
ONE
“I’M OKAY. REALLY. But I have to tell you what I did. Well, he deserved it, of course,” Julie Benton said over the phone.
“What did you do?” Kieran Finnegan asked. So far, she’d only been half listening; Julie’s tale of woe had been going on for quite a while now.
Kieran wiped the bar, one eye on her task, the other on the patrons in the pub.
Thankfully, at the moment she could easily work and listen, despite the fact that the object of Julie’s venom—her almost ex, Gary Benton—was one of the few other people at Finnegan’s on Broadway, the family downtown pub, one of the oldest in the city.
Julie giggled. “He deserved it,” she repeated.
Kieran didn’t doubt that. She just wished she couldn’t see Gary as she was talking to Julie.
She never minded cleaning Finnegan’s since it was practically her family home. It was a beautiful old place with finely carved wood, a range of tables and booths, and this classic bar with its array of beer taps and collection of Irish whiskeys. Photographs of the pub through the years hung behind the bar. Beyond was a comfortable dining room, equally rich in wood decor and handsome carving.
They weren’t particularly busy at this off-hour of the day, between lunch and happy hour.
Bobby O’Leary was at one end of the bar; although he was an alcoholic long in recovery, Finnegan’s was the center of his social life. He was still one of their favorite customers.
She’d given Bobby his standard soda with lime, and he was reading the Times.
Two groups of business executives on extended lunch hours remained. Three were at one table, and four—including Gary—were at another. Finnegan’s wasn’t even officially open. They closed between 3:00 p.m. and 4:30 p.m., according to the sign on the front door, but their clientele consisted mainly of friends and regulars who knew they could come in and receive service with a smile. Both tables had paid their bills and were lingering over coffee. Kieran had served them all their final refills—managing not to spill any scalding coffee on Gary—before she’d started cleaning.
And before Julie had called. She refrained from mentioning to Julie that Gary was at the pub; frankly, she was stunned he’d come in at all. He wasn’t wanted here. But he was with Jimmy McManus—a longtime customer and entrepreneur who’d made a fortune in everything from magic mops to designer dog food and Wall Street trading. Jimmy was a great guy with a headful of white hair and a quick smile, taut and fit despite his fondness for a good Irish stout. They were joined by two men who seemed to be friends of Jimmy’s. Kieran hadn’t allowed herself to run over, grab Gary by the lapels and throw him out on the street. But until the coffee refill, she hadn’t gone near the table. Mary Kathleen, a recent recruit from the old country and the love of Kieran’s brother Declan’s life, had been working the floor. She’d waited on the table, but she’d left at three. Which meant Kieran had no choice except to take over.
The other two at Jimmy’s table were men Kieran had seen in the pub before but didn’t really know. One was dark and one was pale. They were friendly, polite and dressed in handsome business suits, like many of the pub’s clientele, who walked down from the Wall Street banks and firms where they worked.
They all looked richer than Gary Benton, that was for sure. Maybe he was tryin
g to learn how to join their ranks.
Making a point of not looking toward the table, Kieran finished the last of her cleaning and the setup for happy hour while listening to Julie. Now that part wasn’t easy, and not only because Julie and Gary were in the middle of the sad dissolution of their marriage.
Gary had wanted the divorce. Kieran knew things sometimes just fell apart. It was always difficult and distressing, but in this case, Gary’s treatment of Julie had seemed deliberately cruel.
Julie needed her friends, and Kieran felt she had to be there for her.
Don’t look over at Gary. Just listen to Julie, she told herself. Yes, listen to Julie and be a good friend.
And clean up the pub without pouring something over Gary’s head. She might not care if Gary ever came back, but she didn’t want to drive Jimmy and the others away. Finnegan’s wasn’t her full-time job, but it was her family’s business and important to them all, herself and her three brothers.
Finnegan’s was a true Irish-American pub. Her grandfather had bought it from a cousin when he’d come to the United States after the Second World War. It had actually been owned and operated by a Finnegan since shortly after the Civil War. Not only did they have a wonderful bar selection, with excellent beers on tap and high-end call brands, they also offered good pub-style food. People came to eat and drink, but they also came to socialize, to meet up with friends. Sometimes, during off-hours like this, that meant waiting around until the current Finnegan in charge of the place—her oldest brother, Declan, these days—or another family member or server came by.
Although it wasn’t her real job anymore, she was always happy to help out at the pub. She had a career as a criminal psychologist now. But she hadn’t been working with Doctors Fuller and Miro long enough to conduct an extended phone therapy session with Julie, even if she considered this crisis in her friend’s life as something that could lead to a serious mental health issue. Luckily, she had the day off—Dr. Miro was at a conference, and Dr. Fuller had taken a vacation day and ordered the staff—Kieran and the handsome young receptionist and assistant, Jake Johnston—to do the same thing.
“I was calm, Kieran, I swear,” Julie said. “You need to understand that. Calm—and clever.”
That was good, Kieran thought. Calm. Since Gary had first started his hell-bent attempt to ruin their marriage, Julie had veered from wild rages to copious tears. Kieran couldn’t blame her. Gary had gone out of his way to be hurtful. He’d brought his new girlfriend to their home, made love with her in his and Julie’s bed, and somehow the girlfriend had “accidentally” left her panties there. He’d emptied their joint bank accounts and, possibly cruelest of all, told Julie she no longer attracted him sexually. More—he claimed he found her repulsive.
“What did you do?” Kieran pressed warily.
“Well—” Julie giggled again “—you’ll be glad to hear I didn’t somehow get hold of a gun and shoot him.”
“I am glad to hear that. So what did you do?”
“What he did was worse. I went to stay with my parents and left the house to him,” Julie continued. “He says he can’t stand living with me, but apparently I’m not supposed to leave, either. He called to tell me I’d better get back to feed my damned dogs. He kept them in their crates, hadn’t let them out at all! They were starving, Kieran, and covered in their own waste.”
Kieran glanced over at the table where Gary was seated. He’d risen with the others now; they were on their way out, which was a relief. She wouldn’t feel tempted to inflict bodily harm.
She watched him leave. He was a good-looking man, but Kieran had never been particularly fond of him. There was something...slimy about him, in her opinion. His quick, oh-so-charming smile usually meant he was planning something devious. He sold precious stones and jewelry at a high-end store in the Diamond District, and he’d often told Julie he had to take some woman out for dinner or drinks because a big sale was in the offing.
Slime.
She and her brothers had tolerated him for one reason and one reason only. Because they loved Julie, their friend since childhood.
But he’d left the dogs locked in their crates?
“That’s horrible. You should call the police on him. Either that or move out. I’ve told you to come and stay with—”
“The dogs and I won’t fit in your apartment,” Julie said.
That was probably true; Kieran’s apartment on St. Marks Place was the size of a postage stamp. But she didn’t care if she, Julie and the two dogs were all crammed in there. Animal abuse was never acceptable.
“We’d make it work,” Kieran told her. “And if he’s actually being that horrible, you need to get out of there. I really think you should call the police. There are laws against that kind of thing.”
“Oh, I don’t want the police involved.”
Kieran winced at that. She wasn’t fond of police intervention herself, even though her new position would soon have her working with them often enough. While her oldest brother, Declan, had become a completely respectable citizen, her other brothers—her twin, Kevin, and their baby brother, Daniel, who was a whole year younger—still had “friends” involved with various street gangs. They were trying to go straight, but it was easy to fall back into their old ways. She’d had some bad times herself during her teenage years. Like Declan, however, she’d known that things could spiral downward, so she’d gone to college, majoring in criminology and specializing in criminal psychology. In a sense she was paying for her past—and making her past pay.
They’d never done anything too terrible. Declan had made some “deliveries” for the McNamara clan, an Irish family that had challenged the Garcia gang. But after their father’s death, he’d decided he was going to be the head of a family that would live and thrive and succeed in NYC. Kevin had hung out with the O’Malley family, really just a loose connection of thugs. High-school stuff. Danny had actually joined the Wolves, another loose-knit group proudly based on the TV show Dexter, but without the murders. They stole from those who stole from others, sweeping up their cell phones and hacking their computers in turn. He’d come the closest to being in real trouble when a rival group had caught him and some hackers at the school library and started a massive brawl.
Kieran remembered a time when life had seemed good and normal, even though they’d lost their mother when they were young. Then their father had died almost ten years ago. Declan had been in college at the time, and he’d felt the weight of responsibility for his siblings and to family tradition. He’d gone straighter than an arrow. Kieran, who’d only gotten occasionally involved with computer hacking and a few minor thefts, quickly followed suit, graduating from high school with stellar grades. Declan had made clear to his younger brothers that he had zero tolerance for bad behavior, so they’d realized they had no one to bail them out of serious trouble and struggled to keep their noses clean. They’d been doing that, as far as she knew. The problem with Kevin and Danny was that they both believed in justice—their version of it—even when the law didn’t.
“Kieran, are you there?”
“Yes, yes, and I want to hear the end of the story.”
Julie laughed softly. “It’s good. I promise you, it’s good.”
A sense of unease began to stir in Kieran. “Julie, just tell me, what did you do?”
“Did I mention that whoever he’s fooling around with left her thong in the bed? My bed?”
“Yes, I know, and that’s deplorable. But what did you do?”
“I got over the crying. I don’t want you to think I did anything crazy because I was crying hysterically or out of my mind with grief or anything.”
At that, Kieran’s reaction went from unease to real concern. She looked up, forced herself to flash a smile to Bobby, refilled his glass and asked Julie to hang on for a minute.
She stopped
trying to do anything useful; she had to concentrate on this conversation. She headed to the end of the bar, out of earshot of everyone else, and leaned against it. “Julie, what did you do?” she asked again.
“I was very nice, actually. His boss called the house, asking if I knew where he was. I said I didn’t. Then I went and bought doughnuts and take-out coffee, and brought them down to the store.”
That sounded nice so far. In Gary’s business, client and coworker relationships were important, because the amounts of money clients spent and the employees’ commissions were so high that cooperation literally paid. After all, better that the proceeds were shared than never earned at all. Julie was well liked by Gary’s friends and coworkers. She was quick to assist when asked and enjoyed role-playing—pretending keen interest in a piece of jewelry when a possible buyer was studying it. In the process, she’d learned a fair bit about how to judge the quality of diamonds.
But Julie hadn’t gone down to the store to be nice; Kieran was certain of that. “Julie, what exactly did you do after that?” she asked.
“I handed out doughnuts. I apologized to his friends and coworkers for the fact that he hadn’t been showing up when he was supposed to, and I explained that they’d have to find whatever woman he was sleeping with to know where he was. I saw his boss last. I asked him to save one glazed doughnut with a hole in it so Gary would have a place to put his dick in case one of his new girlfriends got wise to him.”
“That was it?” Kieran asked.
Julie giggled. “Oh, no. I want him to really hurt.”
“So then?”
“Well, then they acted all awkward and said how sorry they were. I just said, well, it was over, and how much I liked all of them, but I wouldn’t be able to come in and pose as a potential customer anymore.”
“And that was it? Right?”
“Well...almost,” Julie said. “You have to understand, Kieran. I wasn’t stupid about this. I was calm and charming. I’m so ready for all of this to be over.”
“And that’s good. Close the door. Start fresh.”
“You remember, don’t you, how I didn’t even want to get married right away?”