Page 6 of Sins of the Father

"I insist." Niamh smiles at me. "Sunday at three, Ms. Kelly. Don't be late."

She leaves as abruptly as she arrived. I stand still, thinking about the possibilities having them all in one room.

Cillian sighs. "My mother enjoys bossing my staff around. You're not obligated to attend."

"I don't mind," I say. "You made it clear that I’d be expected to work outside of office hours."

He nods, attention shifting to his computer. "The coffee, please. Then tackle the filing disaster my previous assistant left."

***

The filing cabinets in the storage room overflow with disorganized papers. Shipping manifests. Contracts. Personnel files. Financial statements. A treasure trove of potential evidence. But it is complete and utter chaos.

"My predecessor had an unusual organization system," I say when Cillian checks on me an hour later.

"Karen had no system at all." He surveys the papers. "I need these organized by department, then chronologically. Priority on anything from the past eighteen months."

I nod, noting the timeline. "Any specific files you might need immediate access to?"

"South American shipping contracts. We have a situation with a Brazilian partner that?—"

The office door bangs open. A man strides in—younger than Cillian, similar features but harder edges. Same dark hair, same blue eyes, but while Cillian projects control, this man radiates raw energy.

Eamon Kavanagh. The enforcer.

"We have a problem," he announces, ignoring my presence.

Cillian's jaw tightens. "I have a meeting in five minutes."

"Cancel it." Eamon moves around the office. "We caught one of the night crew stealing from the Colombian shipment. The idiot took product from box three."

My hands continue sorting papers while my brain records every word they say. Box three. Colombian shipment. Product.

"How much?" Cillian asks.

"Two kilos. Street value is about fifty grand." Eamon stops, noticing me for the first time. His eyes narrow. "Who's she?"

"My new assistant." Cillian keeps his tone even. "Orla, this is my brother Eamon. Eamon, Orla Kelly."

I nod politely. Eamon stares at me. "You look familiar."

My heart rate increases, but I maintain my calm. "I don't think we've met."

"Where's the thief now?" Cillian asks, pulling Eamon's attention away from me.

"At the warehouse. What do you want me to do with him?"

Cillian glances at me, then at his watch. "I'll handle it after my meeting. Keep him there."

"He saw what was in the boxes, Cillian."

"I said I'll handle it." Cillian's voice drops. "Wait in my office. Orla, please finish the filing."

I retreat to the storage room, my mind racing. Drug shipment? Stolen product. A worker who "saw what was in the boxes." Whatever he saw was worth killing him over.

***

At six thirty, the executive floor empties. Only the night security guard stays behind, stationed by the elevators. I volunteered to stay late, I said I wanted to finish fixing the filing disaster so I could start fresh tomorrow. Cillian approved, his mind otherwise occupied after a closed-door meeting with Eamon.

---