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“Yes.” Her dark eyes are full of sympathy.
“So Ho-Jun was killed, most likely by—” I swallow. Lorcan’s name bounces around my skull, on the tip of my tongue. I can’t do it. “Someone from the O’Malley family. My father was most likely killed through some kind of Mafia connection.”
Dai Qing closes the file and stares at me for a moment. “He learned Irish after your brother was murdered, right?”
I give a curt nod.
“The Donaghey family speaks primarily Irish for their business purposes.”
“I haven’t seen much evidence of that.”
“It’s common knowledge.”
“I suppose.”
“You understand where I’m going with this.”
“My dad asked me to go on that hike with him. Father-daughter bonding time.” I lean into the chair and cross my arms. “I didn’t feel like getting dirty. I was an asshole at fifteen.”
“If you’d been there, you’d most likely be dead. You know how these things work.”
“That’s twice, you know that? Twice I’ve beaten death.”
“I’d guess it’s more than that. You’ve beaten death on every assignment so far.”
“How many lives does a person get? How many close calls, almost-deaths?”
“None of us knows the answer to that.”
I stare at her. “You think my father might have been working for the Donaghey family?”
“What do you think?”
“Don’t turn this shit around on me. I don’t know what to think. My head is spinning.” Part of my head feels far too attached to my heart to make the leaps that need to be done right now.
“I don’t think your father was working for the Donaghey family. There’s nothing in your file to indicate anyone with the FBI suspected that either. But he learned Irish for a reason.”
“To avenge my brother.”
“Is that something you see your father doing? He wasn’t Chad’s biological parent. He would have already known the dangers from Ho-Jun’s unexpected death.”
In my head, images of my father laughing and embracing Chad, cheering him on at sporting events, passing him an ice pack from the freezer, sitting at the kitchen table and helping him with his homework, floats up to the surface. “It never mattered to my dad. He loved Chad like he loved me.” My stomach rolls and sweat pools under my armpits.My father. My father.
“I don’t know who killed Chad. Based on the information in this file, I’d say you’re looking at someone in the Donaghey family as the likely culprit.” Dai Qing shakes her head. “It’s unbelievable you’re in this position.”
“I didn’t work the Mafia circuit until the job with Carys came up. The intelligence from the bureau indicated she’d be likely to hire someone like me. Then I landed the Donaghey job because I can speak Irish.”
“I mean, anyone who looked at your file could figure out there was a connection there.” She flips the file closed with force. “Malik should have fought to keep you off this job.”
Considering what Malik’s done for me and his current state, there’s no way I’m blaming him. If I hadn’t seen the photo of Chad in the O’Malley’s hallway, I might never have known any of this. Half of my brain turns over the possibility Lorcan shot my brother in cold blood right in front of me. Closing my eyes, I push my memory to that moment, but other than the blood, so much blood, I don’t recall anything else.
“I wish I could remember.”
“There’s a reason you don’t. Seeing that at your age would have been incredibly traumatic.” She purses her lips. “Did your parents ever get you help? Like professional help?”
“Yes. I’m sure that’s in my file.”
Dai Qing raises her eyebrows. “I sort of wondered if you fudged that.”