"Have you lived in this village for a long time?" Keely asked.

"All me life," the old man replied. "Not long. But long enough."

"If I wanted to find out about a family that used to live here, who would I ask?"

"Well, Maeve Quinn would be the one. She's lived here for-"

"Besides her," Keely said.

The old man scratched his grizzled beard, then moved on to the top of his balding head. "Ye can try the church," he suggested. "Father Mike has tended this flock for near forty years. He's married sweethearts and buried old folk and christened every child in the village."

"Thank you," Keely said. "I'll talk to him." She turned and started back toward the car, but once she got back inside, she was hesitant to put the car back into gear.

Did she really want to know the truth? Or would it be better to just believe that Maeve Quinn was some crazy old lady? But if Maeve did have her facts straight, it would explain a few things. How many times had she walked in on her mother, only to find her lost in her thoughts, a quiet pain suffusing her expression? And why was Fiona so reluctant to speak of the past, unless that past was one big lie? Did Keely really have five brothers? And if she had, what possible reason could there be for Fiona walking away from five fatherless boys?

Keely's heart froze. Could her father still be alive? Was the story about his accident at sea just part of one big deception? Another surge of nausea made her dizzy. So many questions and no answers.

There was only one thing to do. First, she'd have to prove that Maeve Quinn had spoken the truth. And if she had, then Keely would catch the next flight home. She had a few questions that needed answering. And only Fiona McClain-or was it Fiona Quinn?-could answer them.

SMOKE HUNG THICK in the air at Quinn's Pub, adding to the disreputable atmosphere already cultivated by spilt beer, loud music and raucous arguments. Rafe Kendrick sat at the end of the bar, a warm Guinness in front of him. The spot gave Rafe enough privacy for his own thoughts, yet also offered him a decent view of the patrons-and the men behind the bar.