“How much does she know then?” Daniel wondered as he bit his lower lip.
“Nothing,” Noah said, his voice quiet. “I've done my best to shield her from our world.”
“There's something wrong with our world,” his father said, his voice sparking like the flames in the hearth behind him.
“I know,” Noah said quickly, and drank from his beer to give himself something to do. “She was only a Lassie before she'd lost her mum. I didn't think it was right to plunge her into the criminal world. Now that she's grown,” he said, his voice a bit sad, “I'm not sure how to broach the subject.” Daniel said nothing, only nodding as he reached for his beer and drank again.
“She's smart, if we don't tell her, she'll figure it out,” Rory said, full of skepticism.
Daniel silently agreed and turned to look back toward the front door. How long was she going to be out there? She was going to freeze because she was too stubborn to come in from the rain.
“She's a smart one. She always has been, just like her mother,” Noah said, and pulled out the small pocket watch in his chest pocket and flipped it open to a faded family portrait of a dazzling redhead, whose laugh all but permeated the photograph.
Daniel’s heart softened at the photograph of the gawky ten year old, her ears, just a little too large, and her flaming red hair, the same shade as her mother’s, wild and free like the girl it belonged to.
“Are you going to tell her then?” Daniel asked as he lowered his bottle to the counter with a small tap.
“Yes,” Noah said, “I will, when the time is right.”
“The time is now,” said his father. Noah cast a glance, knowing better than to argue with the leader of their little sect of Irish mafia. His father was a powerful man, and looked every bit the leader of a mafia family with his dark greying hair combed back, revealing slashing cheekbones, and a bold brow that tended toward brooding.
“Time is when I say it is,” Noah said, giving his friend a warning look. It wasn't often that Noah went against the words of Daniel’s father.
“You have until the festival,” his Father said, his voice firm. The men sat in silence for a moment. The soft crackling of wood in the fireplace behind them and the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner the only sounds. Before anyone could say anything else the door opened, and in stormed Caitlin, her windswept hair as wild as her emerald eyes.
“Well then,” his father said, as Caitlin stood defiantly before them. “I think we have some business to discuss in your office. Wouldn't you say so?” he asked. Noah gave his daughter one more glance before nodding his head and leading the way toward his office. Daniel could feel his skin prickling on the back of his neck where Caitlin's eyes bore holes. Part of him felt guilty for excluding her in this way. There wasn't much he could do if her father wasn't going to tell her about it all.
Closing the large oak door behind him, and locking the office door, Daniel turned to face the two older gentlemen and slid his hands into his pockets.
“Those things will kill you,” his father said, as Noah pulled the pipe from his chest pocket and began stuffing it with tobacco.
“That's what they tell me.” He breathed in and sucked deeply before exhaling through his nose, reclining in the large armchair behind his dark wood desk.
“Daniel,” Noah said, turning his attention back to him. “You are here as an apprentice to me, both for experience, but also for help.” He took another long slow puff of pipe tobacco and blew perfect circles to the ceiling, and watched them burst before he spoke again. “I primarily placed you in charge of the inventory your father will be delivering. He will be having supplies delivered here as inventory for the pub. I need you to make sure it gets stored safely below.” He tapped his foot against the faded rug as if to point to the cellar below. “Keep track of what has been delivered, keep everything in order, and then of course make sure no one finds out. It will be delivered along with a series of other trucks. Cait and I have ordered a considerable amount of inventory for the impending oyster festival. It’s the perfect cover, and the police will not be suspicious of all the deliveries here. They should have no interest in searching the place, as there are hundreds of boxes below you. As a leader in training for the Kelly family Syndicate, you will have a valid reason to be here overseeing it all.”
Daniel nodded his head and crossed the faded red carpet to sit down in the chair across from Noah.
“You know I've always wondered how involved you were or how you were involved,” Noah said with a slow nod.
“I didn't know much,” Daniel confessed. “Of course, a man has suspicions of his family. But it wasn't openly discussed, not with me anyways.”
“I figured I'd tell you eventually, assuming you didn’t piece it together yourself,” his father said, his eyes staring into the crackling fire. “Now that you have a job to do for the family, I expect you to do a good one at that.”
“How long will I be here?”
“At least until the festival,” Noah said with a nod. “I stand by what I've said before in the past. You have a good head for business, you have the university behind you backing you up as well. I would like to see our two families united.”
Now Daniel's stomach twisted uncomfortably, as he thought of the way Caitlin's eyes followed him across the room and imagined that if a look were enough to kill a man, he'd be dead three times over.
“Well then, I think it's time we head down, don't you?” His father turned to Noah, breaking the silence once more.
“Yes, I do.” Daniel rose from the leather chair and stretched his short legs, his back cracking.
“Getting older,” Daniel said.
“Happens to the best of us,” Noah muttered as he cracked his neck and led the way to the office door. He gave one careful look over his shoulder at the men, then peeked into the hallway looking for signs of Caitlin.
Nodding his head as a signal to them that the coast was clear, he turned right down a dark narrow hallway and led them to the cellar entrance.
