"I haven't done anything. I'm legal. I have papers."

"I'm not with Immigration." From the hasty relief on the girl's face, Eve imagined the papers were still wet, and likely fake. "Are there rooms for rent on the premises? Do any of the employees, or the owner, live on-site?''

"Yes, ma'am. There are three rooms. One in the back and two upstairs. I have one upstairs myself. It's up to code."

"Who else lives here—w

hat's your name?"

"I'm Maureen Mulligan."

"Who else lives on-site, Maureen?"

"Well, Bob McBride did until last month when the boss fired him for laziness. Bob had a hard time lifting a pint, you see, unless it was up to his own lips." She smiled again and began to scrub at the bar industriously. "And now there's Shawn Conroy who takes the back room."

"Would he be back there now?"

"I just looked a bit ago, and he wasn't about. He should be in here now, half hour ago his shift started."

"You want to show me his room, Maureen?"

"He's not in any trouble, is he? Shawn drinks a bit, but he's a good worker and does his best."

"I want to make sure he's not in trouble. You can call your boss, Maureen, and clear showing me in the back."

Maureen bit her lip, shifted from foot to foot. "Well, then I'd have to say as how Shawn's not in for his shift, and there'd be hell to pay then, wouldn't there? I'll show you the room if you want to see it. Shawn doesn't do illegals, Lieutenant," she continued as she led the way through a door beside the laminated bar. "The boss, he's strong against illegals and sloth. There's not much more will get you the ax around here, but either of those'll do it in a wink."

She unlocked the door with an old-fashioned key from a chain at her waist.

It wasn't much, just a bunk-style bed, a cheap dresser, and a streaked mirror. But it was surprisingly neat. A quick look in the closet assured Eve that the absent Shawn hadn't packed up and left.

She walked to the dresser, idly opened a drawer. Shawn had one pair of clean underwear and two mismatched socks. "How long has he been in the U.S.?"

"Shawn, why, two or three years at least, I'm thinking. He talks about going back to Dublin, but—"

"That's where he's from?" Eve asked sharply. "He's from Dublin?"

"Yes, he says he was born and raised there and came to America to make his fortune. Not much of a fortune yet for Shawn," she continued with a sunny smile. Her gaze shifted to the empty bottle of brew on the nightstand. "That's probably why. He likes the drink a bit more than it likes him."

"Yeah." Eve glanced at the bottle as well, then her gaze sharpened on what sat beside it. Her muscled tensed as she picked up the enameled token. "What's this, Maureen?"

"I don't know." Maureen angled her head and studied the green shamrock on the white background. And on the back, the fish. "A lucky piece, I suppose."

"Have you seen it before?''

"No. Looks new, doesn't it? It's so shiny. Shawn must have just picked it up. Always looking for luck, Shawn is."

"Yeah." Eve closed her fist around the token. She was very much afraid luck had run out.

*** CHAPTER FOUR ***

"I need you to think, Maureen. I need you to be calm and clear."

Huddled in a neatly patched chair in her own little room above the Green Shamrock, Maureen wet her lips. "I'm not going to go to jail or be deported?"

"You're not in any kind of trouble. I promise you." Eve edged forward in her chair. "Help me out here, Maureen, help Shawn out, and I'll pull some strings and get you real papers. You won't have to worry about Immigration ever again."

"I don't want anything to happen to Shawn, truly I don't. He was never anything but nice to me." Her eyes darted over to where Peabody stood by the door. "I'm a little nervous, you see. Cops make me a little nervous."

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net