The Lost - J. D. Robb [109]
For a moment she was taken by such surprise, she couldn’t find her voice. At last she managed, “This is all very tempting, but I know without seeing your Mr. Glin that we couldn’t possibly be related.”
He merely smiled. “Then think of this offer as a gift to you. A chance to get away from your life as you know it and spend a few pleasant days in Ireland.”
“Sorry . . .” Her hand went to the door.
“Before you refuse, perhaps you should read this.” He reached into his briefcase and withdrew a sheaf of papers. “You have my card. Call me when you’ve come to a decision.”
She watched him turn and walk down the sidewalk to his car. She closed the door and carried the documents to the table, where she sipped her now tepid tea and began to read.
When she finished, she stared into space, trying to make sense of it.
There were detailed reports about a family named Fitzgibbon, who had emigrated from Ireland fifty-five years ago, the same year her mother had been born. There was a map of the town of Glinkilly, in Ireland, where Hugh and Caitlin Fitzgibbon had been born, the date of their marriage and the birth date of their only daughter, Moira, as well as the name of the ship that brought them to the United States and the port where they’d disembarked. It would seem that their lives had been carefully documented, but as far as she could see, none of this could be used to link these strangers to her, or, in turn, to link her to this stranger, Cullen Glin.
Aidan thought about her mother’s mother, Maureen Gibbons, a sweet, quiet, rather sad woman who had been married to stern Edward Martin for more than forty years before her death. She rarely spoke about herself, preferring to talk about her beautiful daughter, Claire, on whom she doted.
Aidan’s mother, Claire, was the only child of Maureen and Edward. There were no others. Not even a stillbirth had been recorded in their family Bible. Cullen Glin had no claim on her. As tempting as it was to consider an all-expense-paid trip to Ireland and a fat check for her inconvenience, her conscience wouldn’t permit it. She had no right to lead some desperate old man on in his quest to find his lost child. His time would be better spent locating his true heirs.
She would phone Mr. Barlow in the morning, right after she phoned the bank to retrieve her job.
That morning call, however, changed everything.
“Well, Aidan.” Walter Saunders, her former supervisor, used his best customer-relations voice over the phone. “Good to hear from you. I’m sorry about your mother. Everyone here at First City sends their sympathy.”
“Thank you, Mr. Saunders.” Aidan had seen and heard her supervisor in action, using that oh-so-warm voice while staring into the distance with absolutely no emotion at all.
She took a breath. “Now that I’m free to work, I was hoping I might be able to come back.”
There was a momentary pause. “You were a fine employee, Aidan. The best.”
She waited. When he offered nothing more, she jumped in to fill the silence. “If it’s a problem, I’d be willing to start at a reduced salary. I realize that I wouldn’t be qualified for the pay scale I’d reached before leaving. Or the benefits.” Now she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I’m not asking for full benefits, just enough to help with any medical situations that might arise. As you can imagine, I’m feeling overwhelmed by medical crises at the moment.”
Silence.
She closed her eyes, hoping he couldn’t hear the desperation that crept into her tone. She hated that she was begging. “I need this job, Mr. Saunders.”
“Yes. Well.” His tone sharpened. “I’m afraid we have no openings just now, Aidan. You realize we had to fill your position as quickly as possible. You left us with no other choice.”
“I gave you two weeks’ notice. I thought that would be enough to train my replacement.”
“And you did train her. Very well, I might add. She’s become a valuable employee.” He cleared his