Free The Mystery of the Claddagh Rings by Kallie Lane

 
    Prologue
    Fiona Murphy stood on the steps of the stone cottage, gazing down the hill toward the Boston harbor. Moonlight broke through the clouds, illuminating the solitude around her. Winter’s bite was out in full force tonight, sending people into the Faneuil Hall Marketplace to finish their Christmas shopping, not braving the outdoors in the chilly harbor district. Tree limbs groaned, swaying in the wind. Snow crunched underfoot as she descended the stairs to follow the path around back of the house to the parking lot.
    It’s beautiful. The perfect setting for my restaurant.
    She patted the deed inside her pocket, still trying to absorb her good fortune. Her financial backer had come through with the money, and the cottage was hers. Another three or four months of renovating and hiring the right staff and she would open the doors to Irlandais , the classiest eatery to hit Boston. Not too classy, mind you, at least not where pricing was concerned. No, Fin planned to create a bistro atmosphere, a touch of old Europe everyone could enjoy, where only the food quality and ambiance exceeded expectations, and not the cost of a meal. All those years in culinary school and working in the finest restaurants across Europe had given her the confidence and ability she needed to finally accomplish her dream.
    The ground beneath her boots was slick with ice. She trudged along, guessing only the minimum amount of snow removal had been done, just enough to allow real estate agents to show the property. Lucky for her, the weather had taken an ugly turn for the worst last week. She’d been the first to bid on the house, her offer immediately accepted by the previous owner, who was anxious to retire to Florida.
    Fin ran numbers through her head as she turned the corner of the cottage, braving a fresh gust of wind. She kept herself warm by imagining tables on the lawns in summertime. The solarium extension she’d designed would bring the view of outdoors inside in inclement weather. The antique brass lamps she’d purchased in Holland would add to the decor.
    Fin had saved almost every penny she’d earned over the last several years, the vision of having her own restaurant taking precedence over everything else in her life. At last, she was back in Boston and things would fall into place.
    Her thoughts stopped dead when a man stepped out of the trees edging the drive. He stood between her and her car. His face was in shadow, the hood of his jacket hiding his features. Big and menacing, he pulled a handgun from a pocket, pointing it at her.
    “Give me your jewellery!”
    Fin’s heart stopped beating for an instant before tripping double-time. Her gaze searched the woods around the parking lot. She didn’t see anyone else, but that didn’t mean he was alone. She stared, frozen in place. Guessed he was in his early twenties, although it was hard to tell. Baggy jeans slid off his hips, showing the waistband of his undershorts. Crude tattoos on the knuckles of his gun hand said he’d spent time in jail.
    He snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Pay attention, lady. Hand over the bling and you can walk away.”
    Paralyzing fear threatened to shut her down completely. Fin stripped off her gloves while she still could, tugging the rings off her fingers. She pulled diamond studs from her earlobes. Unclasped the gold chain she wore around her neck. Then she placed everything in his free hand, her own trembling so badly she couldn’t control it.
    “Yo! You fucking with me, bitch?” He tossed what she’d given him into the snow, grabbed her by the front of her coat. She saw him clearly now. A teardrop was inked beneath an eye, a jagged scar running along one side of his face from cheekbone to jaw. “Hand them over, or I’ll blow your brains out and find them myself!”
    “H-hand what over?” Her voice shook as badly as the rest of her. She fought for control, knowing she had to convince him she didn’t have whatever it was he