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She shrieks, "Don't ya ever lie to me! Especially about my da!"
"I'm not lying to ya," I say again.
"You're hesitating. You're thinking about what ya want to say instead of just telling me the truth," she points out.
I have to hand it to my wife. She's smart. I knew she was intelligent the first minute I met her at the pub, even though she was an enemy at the time. Still, I try to cover my tracks. "The last I knew, your da was in Belfast. He was in the hotel room from the wedding. And aye, I did have my guys watching him. I promised ya I would, remember?"
She tilts her head like she doesn't believe me. She snaps, "Then why is he missing?"
I shrug. "He's disappeared."
"What do ya mean he's disappeared?"
"He's gone," I say, trying to stay calm.
Her face heats. "So you were watching my da, but now he's magically disappeared? That makes no sense, Tynan."
"Hey, your da's a slick guy."
She snarls, "Don't patronize me. I want to know what's going on. I've been trying to call him, and he doesn't answer. His phone's not even on. So tell me the truth. Please."
The desperation in her voice pains me. I wish it didn't. I step closer, and she retreats, but I keep stepping toward her until her back is against the wall. I slide my hand over her cheek. "You're trembling."
A tear drips off her chin. "Tell me where my da is, Tynan."
I tell her the truth. "I don't know, but my men are looking for him. They'll find him."
"How do ya know?"
"I just do."
She stares at me for a long time, and neither of us move. Tension builds between us, and I loathe it. I want to be back to where we were last night. So I soften my voice, saying, "We can't do anything about your da right now, so let me show ya some things I've researched."
She remains frozen.
"Come on, Maeve. It's not going to help the situation to sit here and worry. My guys will find him," I assure her.
In a stressful breath she threatens, "If something happens to him—"
"It won't," I interject, even though my gut says this time it might be different from the other times I had to find him. Who knows where he is or what kind of trouble he's gotten into. And I have no doubt he has. He can't help himself.
She finally nods. "Okay, you're right, but the minute ya find out where he is, I want to talk to him."
"You have my word," I state, but I don't plan on ever letting him get close to or talk to her again.
My answer appeases her. She steps away from the wall. I pull her into me and kiss her head. "Let's start again. Good morning, sunshine."
She looks up at me. A tiny smile plays on her lips. She replies, "Good morning."
I wish I could hear happiness in her voice again. It's not the anger she had a few minutes ago, but it's not back to her normal, happy self, and I vow that I will help her return to that state. So I say, "Come sit down. I want to show ya some things."
I lead her over to the sofa, and she follows. I sit, tug her onto my lap, and pull out my phone. I pull up the internet to several links I've been researching while she was sleeping.
"What is this about?" she questions.
I click the first link. "Well, this is one of the best chefs in New York City who teaches classes."
Her eyes widen. "And why do ya have that up?"
