Page 1 of Dublin Debacle

CHAPTER1

“Em,deary, get me another pint, will ya? And one for me mate, Derek,” a voice shouted from the other end of the bar.

“You’re already pissed, Sean.” Emily O’Brien finished filling the glass and straightened the tap. “Go home to your wife and sleep it off.” She set the pint of Guinness in front of the tall, dark stranger who’d taken up residence at her bar fifteen minutes ago.

He was American. Of that, she had no doubt. She’d served enough locals and tourists to recognize certain nationalities. And, based on how he carried himself, he’d served time in the military. He could still be in the military, given the way he’d trimmed his hair tight on the sides and short on top. A hint of a beard made her think he was either on extended leave or no longer on active duty.

“Can I get ya anything else?” she asked, wanting to hear the sound of the Yank’s voice again. It should have brought back good memories of her childhood. Instead, it made her think of the Hollywood heartthrobs she’d spent many hours streaming when she should have been studying for an exam.

“No, thank you, ma’am.” He picked up the glass and drank a third of the amber liquid before setting the glass back on the counter.

“Like it, do ya?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s good. But then I’ve always liked a good Guinness.”

She lifted her chin toward him. “What brings ya to Dublin?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland and finally got around to it.” He gave her a half smile.

“And?” She rubbed a cloth over the counter, cleaning where it didn’t need cleaning. “What do you think of the Emerald Isle and the land of leprechauns?”

“Since I just got here, I haven’t seen leprechauns, pots of gold at the ends of rainbows or anything else enough to form an opinion on anything but the beer.” He lifted the glass. “So far, so good.”

“Brilliant,” she said with a nod. “Doin’ the tourist route, are ya?”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “I’m interested in Irish folklore and current politics.”

Her hand with the rag stilled. “Why? Are ya some kind of spy for the British government?”

He chuckled. “Hardly. However, I’m a freelance journalist looking for my next story.”

“Any reason why you chose Ireland?” she asked.

“Ireland’s beauty and history have always intrigued me. Even more since I had my DNA analyzed and found I was forty-two percent Irish. Exploring my family roots caught my interest.”

“And did you find actual relatives in the country through your DNA testing?”

“Not anyone specifically. I came to explore options for a good story and hope, in the process, to discover my heritage.”

Em snorted. As someone who wanted to escape her own heritage, she didn’t understand why anyone would want to learn about their ancestors when they had the potential of coming back to haunt them. “You may learn your heritage isn’t always a good thing. Perhaps your Irish ancestors left Ireland to be free of persecution or maybeprosecution. They could be thieves, murderers or on the wrong side of the political flavor of the time.”

The American grinned. “Even more interesting.”

A man at the other end of the bar called out for another pint. Em hurried to fill the order and worked her way back down the bar to the American, picking up the conversation where they’d left off. “And where might you begin your story search?”

“As I came without much of a plan, I thought I’d spend some time in Dublin—you know, get to know the city and the people in it. Any suggestions for places to go?”

“You’ll want to do the tourist thing to see what the city has to offer in the way of history. I’d start with a visit to the library at Trinity College and take a peek at the Book of Kells. Then there’s the Guinness factory since you’re so fond of their product. There are a number of distilleries if you have a taste for good Irish whisky. Kilmainham Gaol Museum is interesting and perhaps one of the most depressing places in all of Ireland. I don’t recommend it if you’re at all suicidal.”

The Yank chuckled. “Fortunately, I’m not suicidal. I’ve read about Kilmainham and the Easter Uprising. Seems Ireland has come a long way since the Troubles.”

“Hasn’t been that long. Many of the old timers still remember. The young people have no recollection as they were born after the Troubles died down.”

“Are the Troubles well and truly a thing of the past?”

Em’s brow twisted. “We like to think so, but there are those who would argue they’re still brewing beneath the surface and even more who’d like them to return with a vengeance.”

“You sound like somebody with experience,” he said. “Yet your accent isn’t nearly as thick as others I’ve run into. You sound more American than Irish. How does that work?”

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