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

checking her out, Sergeant.”
    “None of your matchmaking, Bridie,” he said with a dry laugh. “You can be content with setting Brian up with Sharon.”
    “Hey,” his younger colleague protested, “we managed that all by ourselves.”
    Bridie gave Seán a sly wink and settled her large frame onto a chair at one of the tables in the Book Mark’s small café. “Come on and drink up before it gets cold.”
    He took a seat across from Brian and Bridie. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was divine. “You’d better tell us what’s been happening with the thefts.”
    The woman took a sip of tea and peered at them over her half-moon spectacles. “As I mentioned on the phone, someone has been helping themselves to our tip jar. It’s not an enormous amount of money, and I generally let Sharon keep all the tips from her shifts, even if I’m also working. Regardless of the amount in the tip jar, it’s the principle of the thing. I don’t like someone coming into my shop and stealing from me and my employee.”
    “Do you have any idea who’s responsible?”
    The corners of her mouth drooped. “It’s happened twice since Christmas, but on two different days. The only thing the days had in common was that groups of school kids came in to order books. Also—” She hesitated.
    “Yes?” Seán prompted.
    “A couple of Traveller kids came in to root through the used book section. I don’t like pointing fingers, but this sort of thing hasn’t happened to me before.”
    He sighed. Unfortunately, it was true that Travellers were often caught stealing. They had a different conception of property and possessions than settled folk. Despite the television documentaries portraying the Traveller community as wealthy gangsters, many families led a fairly hand-to-mouth existence.
    “Do you know their names?” Brian asked, pen poised and notebook at the ready.
    “I’ve a notion the boy was called Jimmy. I don’t know the girl’s name.”
    “What about the school kids?” Seán prompted. “Which schools were they from?”
    “A few were wearing Glencoe College uniforms. I recognized James Jobson and Kyle Dunne. I don’t want them to be involved, as you can understand.”
    Seán nodded. Bridie’s recent marriage to Kyle’s grandfather would make accusing him of shoplifting rather awkward. “Anyone else you recognized?”
    “There were a couple of girls from Sacred Heart, as well as Jenny Cotter and Roisin Quirke from Glencoe College. There was another girl not in uniform. I’d never seen her before.”
    “Would you consider installing security cameras?”
    Bridie laughed. “For a little country bookshop? Those cameras don’t come cheap.”
    “All right. We’ll ask around, but my hopes aren’t high. We have no evidence that either the school kids or the Travellers were involved.”
    “I understand, but I wanted to report it all the same.”
    “You were right to do so.” Seán drained his coffee cup and stood. “If you have any further problems, please let us know.”
    “I will. Thanks for coming round.”
    Outside on the pavement, a brisk wind propelled Brian and Seán down the street toward their car. He’d used his free day yesterday to reflect on his inner turmoil at being faced with seeing Helen Havelin on a regular basis. She was more the personification of what had happened to his family rather than the real problem. He knew this, same as he recognized that blaming her was irrational. Unfortunately, years of pent-up loathing every time he saw her face on the television was difficult to delete. He exhaled a sigh. Yet another reason to solve the Travellers case and push for a transfer. The sooner he left this damn town and all its dark memories behind him, the better.

Chapter Eleven
    IF CLIO HEARD “It’s off season” or “We only hire locals” one more time, she’d scream. After leaving the bookshop, she’d trudged around Ballybeg in the rain, clutching a folder containing crisply printed