Love and Shamrocks: Ballybeg, Book 5 by Zara Keane Page A

attention to Bridie, who was busy unloading the dishwasher in the shop’s tiny kitchen.
    “Hello, lads.” The bookshop’s owner came forward to shake their hands. “Thanks for coming by so quickly. Can I offer you a cuppa and a bite to eat while we chat?”
    Coffee sounded great to Seán. “I’ll have an espresso.”
    “Black tea for me.” Brian stared at the sweet treats with a look of unfiltered lust.
    “With one of Olivia’s berry scones?” Bridie grinned at him. “Go on. You know you want one.”
    The young policeman returned her smile. “As long as it’s served with clotted cream.”
    “That can be arranged,” Bridie said and maneuvered her bulk behind the counter of the small café.
    Seán turned back to Clio. “How’s Tammy? First day at her new school, right?”
    She bristled, suddenly prickly as a porcupine. “She mentioned that to you?”
    “Yeah. She made me a coffee when I was at Clonmore House on Saturday night, and we had a chat.”
    Clio stiffened, her expression morphing from surprise to barely concealed fury. “I don’t like strange men talking to my daughter. If you’re going to be hanging around the house babysitting my mother, I’d prefer it if you and your colleagues kept your distance from Tammy.”
    What the feck? Seán exchanged a loaded look with Brian. Tammy was a kid, for cripes sake. Did she think they were sexual deviants? “I meant no harm. She offered me coffee, and I accepted. I thought it might make her feel less awkward having me in the house.”
    “Just…just stay away from her.” Clio backed out the door, eyes blazing. “And stay away from me too.”
    “What was all that?” Brian asked after the door shut behind her. “Does she think we’re pervs?”
    Jaw gaping, Seán stared through the shop window at Clio’s rapidly retreating form. Did she seriously think he was sexually interested in a fourteen-year-old girl? Tammy was still a kid, for heaven’s sake, complete with braces and adolescent awkwardness. She’d be a beauty when she grew into herself, but that wouldn’t be for another few years. He cleared his throat and addressed his partner. “It certainly sounded like Clio was accusing me of behaving inappropriately with her daughter.”
    “That’s going to make our time in Clonmore House a barrel of laughs.” Brian scrunched up his nose. “Helen Havelin is a snob. Up until a minute ago, I’d have said her daughter was much friendlier.”
    “So would I.” Clio’s outburst stung him to the core. Why did she think he or Brian would hurt her daughter? She’d seemed on edge since the moment he’d met her, but her sudden flare of temper didn’t make sense.
    Bridie bustled out of the tiny kitchen with a tray bearing three cups and plates laden with berry scones and ramekins of clotted cream. “I couldn’t help but overhear that exchange. There’s something odd about the Havelins. I can’t imagine Clio and her daughter moved in with her bitch of a mother by choice. Helen was always a pain in the arse. I had to sit beside her in class, back in the days when she was plain old Helen McMahon.”
    Seán’s eyebrows shot up. “You went to school with Helen Havelin?”
    “Don’t look shocked, Sergeant Mackey.” Bridie’s eyes twinkled over the rims of her half moon spectacles. “I laughed myself silly when the glossy magazines printed photos from her fiftieth birthday party the same year I celebrated my sixtieth. It’s amazing what nips, tucks, and fillers can do, not to mention ruthlessly erasing your past.”
    Seán stiffened and eyed her with suspicion. Was she dropping a hint that she’d rumbled his revisionist history? He shifted in his seat. Of course she knew. There was very little about Ballybeg and its inhabitants that escaped Bridie.
    The older woman’s expression gave nothing away. “Helen’s daughter looks a lot like she did before she wrecked her face with all the cosmetic procedures,” she said. “Pretty girl. I noticed you