Deadly Shamrocks: An Irish Tale of Love, Murder and Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

that failed, she would walk the neighborhood in search of help wanted signs in storefront windows. Surely, someone needed a good waitress. She recalled that Michael had the newspaper this morning before he left, he must have taken it into his bedroom.
    Vivie was not sure about going into Michael’s bedroom, she felt as though she were trespassing, invading his privacy, but that was silly; she was just looking for the newspaper, after all. She slowly opened the door to the bedroom and peaked around the edge of the door. She felt like a child, expecting a boogieman to jump out at her at any time. This room was not as big as the bedroom she was using. The bed was a large four-poster bed, not as big as the bed she was sleeping in, but big. There was a large, cherry wood, desk in the far left corner of the room, a matching chest of drawers, on the wall at the foot of the bed, and a dressing table with an oval mirror, on the wall across from the bed, on the same side as the door. There was door that Vivie imagined was the closet, to her right. She looked around the room but did not see the newspaper. She did see Michael’s jacket lying on a chair beside the bed.
    Vivie slowly walked into the room and looked around. On the dressing table, she saw a comb and brush, and a bottle of cologne. She picked up the cologne, opened it and held it to her nose. The aroma of Michael filtered through her nostrils. For a moment, she was lost in a daydream. Vivie came to herself and quickly replaced the cap on the bottle of cologne and placed it back on the table. She turned and looked at Michael’s jacket. "Well, at least I can hang this up." Vivie picked the jacket up and started toward the closet. As she reached for the door, something fell out of Michael’s jacket and onto the floor. Vivie looked down at her feet and there laid a small black pistol. “Why would Michael have a gun in his jacket?”  She could feel herself begin to tremble. She bent over, picked up the gun and looked at it. She placed the gun back in Michael’s jacket and opened the door to the closet. What she saw when she opened the closet was more than she expected to see. There before her was an arsenal; there were more guns and ammunition than she had ever seen, some of the things she did not recognize. She did not even know what they were. Vivie quickly shut the closet door and left Michael’s bedroom.  Her mind began to race. “What is Michael doing with all of those guns? Is he a collector? Why has he never mentioned it? Why doesn’t he have any of the guns on display? Should she tell him she knows about the guns and ask him about them? Can she not ask him about them? Will he ask her why she was snooping in his closet and become angry with her? Michael will be home soon. Vivie, you must calm down, get your wits about you. Michael would never hurt you. There’s a logical explanation why his bedroom closet looks like an armory.” Vivie poured herself a glass of wine, sat down on the window seat, and watched for Michael’s car.
    Two glasses of Merlot and an hour later Michael’s car pulled up and entered the garage. “Okay Vivie, this is Michael, your friend, your hero, just remember who he is to you and what he’s done for you,” Vivie reminded herself.
    As Michael walked in, he flashed that wonderful smile to Vivie. "Hello darlin, you’re looking beautiful as usual. How was your day?"
    "Oh, you know; not too much going on."
    "Pretty boring stuck in the apartment all day, eh? Would you like to go out for a while? We could go out and get a bite to eat if you like."
    "Perhaps, in a little while.  Michael, I have a confession to make to you and I hope you’ll not be too upset with me."
    "Sounds serious. But I can’t imagine that you would have anything to confess to me that would make me that upset Vivie."
    "This may Michael. You see, I was thinking today that I may look in the newspaper for job advertisements, maybe see if I could find work."
    "I find