“Eyes on the ground,” Nick murmured close to his ear.
JD pulled the hat lower and hunched his shoulders, shrugging into Nick’s coat as they stepped into the narrow alleyway behind the pub. He and Hagan started off toward the end of the alley, but Nick stopped and pulled Kelly aside.
“If the words ‘I want you to go home until it’s safe’ come out of your mouth, I’m going to break one of your ribs,” Kelly told him before Nick could speak.
Nick finally tore his eyes away from JD’s retreating form and met Kelly’s with a small smile. “You know me better than that.” He bent and took his spare gun from a holster at his ankle, then pressed it into Kelly’s hands. “I do want you do go back to the Fiddler, though, and get two spares for us. You know where I keep them?”
“In every nook and cranny you can find.” Kelly automatically checked the gun, even though he knew Nick would have it loaded and ready.
“Good. Ammo’s in a galley drawer. If you’re going to be shot at, you might as well be able to shoot back.”
Kelly nodded silently. “What’s the plan? With the witness, I mean?”
“We’ll have to find him a new safe house. Make sure we’re not tailed. They knew he was at the precinct; we have to assume the hotel is blown.” Nick chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes focused on something over Kelly’s shoulder.
“I’m thinking about putting him on the Fiddler.”
Kelly glanced up at him, eyes widening. “You’re going to hide a witness on your boat?”
“The marina has security. We’d both be there; we’ll pull Hagan too. We can put her out in the harbor each night, make it a job to get to him.”
“Nick.”
Nick met his eyes again, and they were hard as jade. The stunning color almost made Kelly stutter.
He took a deep breath. “Look, I know you’ve got a soft spot for this guy, but you’ve got to remember he might not be what he says he is.”
“Soft spot?”
“Please,” Kelly said with weak laugh. “If we weren’t a thing, you’d be all over him.”
Nick opened his mouth to protest, then shut it with a snap of his teeth. “You’re probably right,” he admitted. A sly smile came over him and he hooked his finger through Kelly’s belt loop. “But we are a thing.”
Kelly allowed him a brief kiss, just enough time for him to get back in Kelly’s good graces, then he playfully shoved Nick away and turned to follow after Hagan and JD.
“Making out in back alleys!” Hagan called to Nick. “Old habits die hard, huh buddy?”
“Shut up!”
“You want me to sleep on a boat?” Hagan asked. “You remember I get seasick, right?”
“When you give me a better idea, I’ll run with it,” Nick challenged. He knew it wasn’t a perfect plan, and it wouldn’t hold up for long, but until they had a safe house they could be confident in, he would rather keep JD close.
JD sat in the hard plastic chair beside their desks, frowning as he listened. “I wonder if I get seasick,” he mused. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Nick glanced at him, then back at his partner. “Why does the guy with amnesia who’s been shot at twice in two days complain less than you do?”
Hagan grumbled and stood, tossing his tie over his shoulder in a huff. He grabbed his empty coffee cup to go off in search of a refill.
Nick sat back, lacing his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes with a sigh.
“Detective?” JD whispered. He waited until Nick had opened his eyes again to continue. “When the shooting started today, I remembered something.”
Nick sat forward. “Yeah? What was it?”
“A face. It like . . . flashed through my mind. I think it might be the guy who shot at me before.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Yeah, dark hair, blue eyes—”
“Not to me, to an artist. Hold on.” Nick reached for the phone. “This is Detective O’Flaherty, Robbery/Homicide. I need an artist up here to work with my witness.”
The woman gave him confirmation and he hung up, turning his chair so he could face JD. “Okay. So far I’ve got these little threads to this case, and I can’t seem to tie any of them together. I need your help.”
Fear settled in JD’s eyes in a way Nick felt almost guilty for. He’d been coddling the man, wanting him to feel safe, but someone had tried to put a second bullet in him today. It was time to take off the gloves.
JD’s jaw hardened, though, and he nodded. “Whatever you need from me.”
“I’m going to give you three subjects, okay, and you tell me off the top of your head what they have to do with each other.”
JD’s brow furrowed, but he nodded anyway.
Nick held up his hand and counted off. “American Revolution. Ireland. Stolen goods.”
JD opened his mouth like he was going to respond, then shut it again, staring off over Nick’s shoulder with a scowl. He opened his mouth again, leaning forward, then sat back and frowned harder. “The Continental payroll gold.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Yeah. The Continental payroll! There was a redcoat lieutenant during the war. The legend is that he and his men intercepted a Continental Army payroll delivery somewhere. Took off with a wagon full of gold bars as it sat at a roadside inn.”
Nick ran a finger over one eyebrow, trying not to look skeptical, or worse, annoyed. He was writing all of it down anyway. “Okay. Go on.”
“That’s . . . that’s all I know. The gold was never recovered.”
Nick stared at him for a few seconds, and Hagan returned and flopped into his seat, looking between them silently.
“Okay,” Nick said patiently. “What does a missing Continental Army payroll have to do with Ireland?”
“The lieutenant was later revealed to be a supporter of Ireland. He was involved in the Irish Rebellion of 1798.”
“What are we talking about now?” Hagan asked.
Nick sighed heavily. “I told him to give me a connection between all our threads. Revolutionary War objects, Irish thugs, and stealing shit.”
Hagan placed a fresh cup of coffee by Nick’s elbow. He pointed at JD. “You can’t remember your own name, but you can recite facts about the f**king Irish Rebellion of seventeen whatever it was?”
JD shrugged one shoulder, looking a little perturbed. “At least I can remember he doesn’t like coffee,” he said with a jab of his finger at Nick.