Page 55 of Mob Star

I look up from my phone and stare out the window again and toward the restaurant. Juries acquitted Liam because something always came out that benefited the defense in each case, and double jeopardy prevented the government from prosecuting again. I’m certain they made sure no one filed civil suits. Is this what Finn does?

I can handle the extortion, the racketeering, the money laundering, the coercion. Why I can is something I truly need to dig deeper into, but I can. But if he does the things they accused Liam of… It’s not just shooting someone in the head or heart. It’s torture. But there were never any bodies to identify or gather physical evidence from. The lack of those things is largely why he was exonerated, but there were also allegations of witness tampering and intimidation.

I go back to the search results and click another article. This one is about an explosion at the docks about three years ago. It happened in an area where the article alleges several shipping companies with affiliation to the mob operate. It names Shane as an owner of one of the largest ones. Whoever it was targeted his company. It says law enforcement suspects it was a rival syndicate. It doesn’t specifically state the Russian bratva, but it hints heavily that it was them. Once again, there was no evidence at the scene to make any definitive claims. Shane declined to comment each time reporters approached him.

The reporter noted it was around that time that an obituary posted for Declan O’Rourke. I click over to that. Whoever wrote this was blowing smoke up everyone’s asses. It sings his praises like he was fucking Mother Teresa. It definitely doesn’t match how they describe Declan in the article. It pretty much made it sound like he was a chip off the old block from his uncle, Liam. I try to piece together how everyone is related. Since they’re all O’Rourkes, I assume it’s through Finn’s dad’s side of the family. They list the cause of death as a heart attack while he was working out. He was fifty-seven. Possible but improbable.

I return to the search results yet again. The next article is one about Finn and his cousins. They’re at some gala, all wearing tuxes. I find genetics fascinating. While we don’t do genetic testing on every newborn who has a difficult condition to diagnose, the tests we perform can provide crucial information. I also think it’s super cool how some inherited traits are absolutely predictable, and others are like roulette. Looking at this black and white photo of Finn, his brothers, Cormac, Seamus, and Dillan, they could all pass for one another. From a distance, I know they could pass for one another.

The American Academy of Ophthalmology says— and let me tell you, those reports are just scintillating reading —green eyes are the rarest. Yet, all six men have them. Red hair is also the rarest color. All of them have both. Genetic lottery of hot recessive genes.

I return my attention to the article after letting my mind wander. Fuck that’s a lot of money. It says the family donated fifteen million dollars to support the ASPCA and the AVMA— American Veterinary Medical Association —during a fundraising project to raise money toward rescue services for abused animals. Not exactly the big-name type of philanthropy, but it’s sweet. Apparently, they not only donated the massive sum, but they also sponsored the entire event. They worked in conjunction with the organization to raise an additional fifteen million dollars. They did a donation match. I can’t fathom having that much money. It says the donation came from their personal assets and not any businesses.

The contradiction is mind-boggling. One moment, I’m reading articles about their relatives being worse than fucking Pol Pot or Vlad the Impaler. The next, I’m reading that they shut down puppy mills. Then again, it’s proof of what I’ve already seen. I know what they do, but I also know how the guys I’ve met have been around me. You wouldn’t guess if you didn’t know.

I move to the next article, and there’s a nearly full-page image of Finn dancing with one of the most gorgeous women I have ever seen. The way they’re holding each other shows more than simple familiarity. They’re smiling at each other and completely at ease. I glance at the caption. Finn and Colleen O’Rourke. The photog took it at Salvatore and Sylvia Mancinelli’s wedding reception thirteen years ago. He would have still been in college. But they have the same last name, and just their body language. Finn was married.

I nearly jump out of my skin when the door opens. I drop my phone in my lap as I look up.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, cailín.”

“It’s all right.” I scoot over, but Finn doesn’t get in. He bends over.

“Joey’s going to take you home. Something came up with an overseas shipping company that lost some cargo last week. I need to deal with this. I’m sorry to cut our date short. I know we were going to…” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Were you married?” Where the fuck did those three words come from?

Finn stares at me, clearly as shocked as I am by what I blurted.

“No.”

“Who’s Colleen?”

A flash of soul-deep sadness crosses his face before he masks it.

“No. Don’t do that, Finn. Don’t hide from me. You told me you’ll lie to me. You probably just did. Don’t shut me out when you don’t have to.”

“How do you know about Colleen? Did you google me?”

“Yes.”

He stares at me for a moment, and he’s obviously debating something. He glances back at the restaurant before getting into the car and shutting the door.

“Colleen was my cousin. Dillan’s little sister. She was the ringleader of everything. But she was also the kindest soul you’ll ever meet. She was a veterinarian.”

The fundraiser. Was?

“She was murdered nearly four years ago. Dillan was there when it happened.”

I feel like the worst sort of bitch. This wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. I just picked at a scab. It’s clear the wound hasn’t healed. His grief is practically palpable. His hands are just resting in his lap, so I cover them with mine. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking at his lap.

“Finn, I saw a photo of the two you at a wedding reception. You looked so happy and loving with her. She had the same last name. I made an assumption and made an ass of myself because I was jealous. I’m so sorry.”

“We’re all O’Rourkes. Three sisters married three brothers. Our two sides of the family haven’t been closely related in at least ten generations, but there have been enough sons to carry on the name. My mom and aunts didn’t have to change theirs when they got married. Joey’s an O’Rourke on my dad’s side. If you’ve been investigating, you probably found Liam, Donovan, and Declan. They were O’Rourkes on my mom’s side.”

I didn’t read anything about a Donovan.

“I’m sorry.”

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