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The stairs creaked, jolting me. I wasn't asleep but only in that near state close to it. I looked at the stairs to see--
Uncle Sean coming down.
I bolted to my feet to face him. The kitchen light was behind him and the moon barely shone through the bay window, so while he could see me, well enough, I could make out little more than the shape of him in the shadows about us.
"You ain't told us where you been," he growled.
I shrugged.
"Stayin' with that queer friend of yours?"
"I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue about Rett. He's been more decent to me than you could even think of being."
"After all I done for you?"
"What you've done for me still shows! Care for a look?"
"Keep your voice down!" He then gave a long sigh. "You really think I had somethin' to do with it?"
So Aunt Mari had told him of my suspicions. Of course, there are no secrets between her and her husband, but I still felt a sting of betrayal.
"I think you were there," I said, "and stopped it when I collapsed. Do you want special thanks for saving my life, after putting it in jeopardy?"
He sat on the arm of the couch. A bit more of the kitchen light shone past while still sheltering him from my view. "When you left, I was glad," he finally said, his voice cool and matter-of-fact. "My wife wasn't, but ain't much to be done about it. Police report? Missin' persons?" He snorted a laugh. "She just had to let it go.
"Till I got a call from the local FBI office. Lookin' for a kid named Brendan Kinsella. Knew I had an Irish boy stayin' with me. Had me come in. To talk. I told 'em I didn't know where that Brendan was, but I'm pretty damn sure they didn't believe me. Showed up at the house a couple weeks later, wantin' to talk with this Brennan McGabbhinn. A British spook was with 'em. Still didn't believe me when I told 'em you'd gone home."
"Home?"
"Back to Ireland. Dunno why. They said they'd check into it. Get back to me."
It seemed he wanted me to say something more, but I only glared at him. I felt no need for this conversation.
He finally nodded. "Sure enough, they come back a couple months later. No record of a Brennan McGabbhinn leavin' the country. Askin' if this might've been an Irish boy who'd worked at The Colonel's. I told 'em it was part of his therapy; get him used to dealin' with people, again."
That actually made me laugh.
He nodded. "Again, they didn't believe me. It's lucky I'm the only one saw 'em. Your aunt don't know 'bout it."
"You don't give her much credit, do you?"
He stiffened with self-righteousness, obvious even in the dimness of the room, and his voice grew cold and hard. "Y'know, Trujillo's got raided by immigration. Two of the guys deported."
That jolted me. "Which two?"
"You really care?" I said nothing. He finally continued with, "Hugo and Tomas. Rene thinks you turned them in."
"He's a fucking idiot. Anyone who knows me knows I'd never do that."
"Yeah, I know. They were really lookin' for you. Those two were just luck o' the draw. Good thing is, that helped me work out who was behind all that shit."
"A cop?" I asked, oh, so sweetly. "One who brought me here in his station wagon?"
He almost smiled as he nodded. "Stupid Bastard shot himself in the foot, with this stunt. Hurt the whole goddamn department. I used to give a nice donation to 'em. Pension fund. Help out wounded officers. Orphans and widows. All that shit. Thought it could help me. Instead, he set the ABC breathin' down my neck, makin' sure everything in my bars is a hundred percent perfect. Cost me shitloads of money. So...the last time they come lookin' for a donation, I told 'em why they ain't gettin' another."
Again, it's like he wanted me to speak and was irritated by my silence.
"Told Rene, too. Dunno what all happened, but he quit and moved back to New Orleans, soon after. As for that daughter of his--"
"Evangelyne."
He eyed me. "She's off to Washington. State Department, Jeremy said, real happy for her. He thought we were hidin' you; thought I'd pass it onto you. I didn't know she knew him, too."
"Would it have mattered? You achieved your goal."
"I didn't want anybody hurt."
I had to fight a laugh.
He still noticed and took in a deep breath, saying, "All right, all right. You, a little. Put you in your place. Just didn't expect as much as they did."
I could barely keep my voice level when I spit, "What'd you do, barter with them? Pay them? Lay down guidelines? You ask for some of your money back after seeing the damage they did me?"
He rose and growled, "Keep your voice down!"
"I didn't ask you to come talk to me."
"Goddammit, Bren, I gotta live and work in this town. It took a lot for me to let you come here, 'cause it broke all kinds of laws, but--"
"Did I ask you to?"
"Your mother did, you ungrateful little shit. She got hold of Mairead, who called my wife and we agreed to get you out of the country; to help hide you."
"Hide me?!"
"Not just from the army! There's people on your own side pissed as hell. Believe you me, if we'd left you with them, you'd be six feet under. We kept you alive and cared for you, and then to have you trash everything and endanger us? Threaten my family's livelihood? It was worse than ungrateful. It was destructive."
"You told me none of this," I growled. "How was I supposed to know--?"
"You got told more'n you should've. Thanks to my wife. You had more'n enough information to understand!"
"No, no, no, no, no, you don't put this back on me. Giving me half-truths and semi-lies. Telling me nothing I could hold onto in order to make plans."
"What plans did you need to make? You weren't supposed to be here; you weren't even well. Still aren't."
"As your friends proved." And I fucking coughed.
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