Rafe'ella Micheals' Journal

[Poplollies]

*Curling up on the couch, laying my coffee down on the coffee table, pushing my hair behind my ears, picking up the pen and my journal, chewing on the end of the pen than writing*

Well I'm back in New York. Thank god, any longer in the south and I would have gone crazy. The leads that took me south, turned out to be dead ends in Sean and Hamish's murders. Or even who wanted them dead. Still don't know if the guns were the reason. *sighing and chewing on the end of my pen again as I try to arrange my thoughts*

Declan was able to arrange an interview for me with the owner of Mahoneys Irish Pub. Denny Mahoney seems like a decent guy. But I've been learning the hard way. Looks and demeanor don't mean anything. I started work earlier this week. Barb and Molly also work the bar at the pub. Barb showed me around. Denny explained about the numbers racket and gave me the information on them.

Molly McGaffery, Patrick McGaffery's daughter. How much she knows about her father's business dealings I don't know. But if what I found out about Mr. McGaffery, his daughter doesn't know much or anything about his gun running or recruiting for the IRA. Hell most think the IRA is a thing of the past. For now I will leave that angle alone as it seems Declan has her under very up close and personal supervision. Knowing Declan, that includes the bedroom.

Other things of note. Declan is on a job. What the job is I don't know and I haven't asked. Though I do know that he was to meet with Patrick McGaffery the day after he was killed. The safe was ransacked. From what Declan said. What's missing doesn't make a whole lot of sense. It's value for the money I'm talking it was still in the safe. Something else to work on. McGaffery was known to supply guns for a price. *Check to see if anything in Sean's journal about knowing or dealing with him*

*Sighing and pushing my hair back off my face* Sean's journal, *groaning* I wish to god I'd learn to read Gaelic. He was always after me to learn.  That will take some time. One other thing I need to check out. Second night here. Someone tried to snatch my purse as I was coming out of the coffee shop. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or something more. The shadow in the park that followed me to the subway station.

I still more questions than answers. I seem to be going no where fast. It's been months and I still not much father than I was after the funeral.

*sighing and tossing the journal on the coffee table, grabbing the mug of coffee off the table, taking a long drink, than laying my head back against the couch, closing my eyes, letting my thoughts drift*[/font]

[Poplollies]

November 8th

*Toweling my hair as I walk to the couch a mug of fresh coffee in my other hand. Slipping between the couch and the coffee table. Laying the mug on the table. Curling up in the corner of the couch. Using both hands to ruffle the towel thru my hair than tossing the towel at the basket of dirty clothes by the door. *Chuckling softly* As I miss as usual. Running my fingers thru my hair to get out what I can of the tangles, than picking up the mug of the coffee, blowing over it, taking a long swallow of it. Laying it back down on the table, picking up a pen and my journal from under a stack of papers. Leaning back against the couch once more. Chewing on the end of the pen as I go over the past few days in my head. Trying to get things in order before writing them down.

Friday, Nov 3rd

After getting up and dressing I went to the courthouse. Using the few names I could remember Sean and Hamish mentioning giving them to the lady at the desk and asking for available public records on any of the names. Taking a seat as she looks thru the records on the computer. Taking the slips of paper she hands me. Going to the deeds office. Getting copies of the records there. Than walking down the hall to the drivering records from the DMV office. Asking for copies and paying for them. Leaving the courthouse. I headed to the police barracks. I talked to the sergeant in charge of records. There are times when cleavage has it advantages along with a few Ben Franklin's. Getting copies of the records of the names that my brothers had given me. I put all the copies in a briefcase. I stashed them in the safe in the apartment. Than went to work. Leaving going thru them till the weekend.

Nov. 4th

Saturday. I slept till well after noon as I had worked the late shift at the pub. By the time I got up. There was no time to do more than glance thru the pages in the briefcase before I had to go to work. I ran into Declan and Molly as they were leaving the bar to go to see her dad's lawyer. Somehow he knew I'd been to the court house. It seems his employer's have little birdies everywhere and knows who I am. Why I interest them I don't know. But I don't like it at all. I let him know it too. He asked me about names. He didn't have time to stick around so I wrote down the ones I could remember for him. He and Molly went to the lawyers and I went to work. Denny and Barb were both there for a bit. Night was a good one for tips.


*groaning softly as I stretch out my fingers, wiggling them, laying the journal down and the pen, picking up the coffee mug and finishing off my coffee, rising and going to the kitchen to get more. Filling the mug, holding it as I lean against the counter. Sipping the coffee than going back into the living room, my pj's hanging loosely on my body, pushing my hair back off my face. Turning on the Cd player. Humming softly along with my "Celtic Women" Cd as I move back to the couch. Putting down the mug once again. Picking up the journal and pen once more as I curl up on the couch. Tapping the pen against my bottom lip as I think about what else happened* 

Nov. 5th

Sunday, Went to late mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Not for myself, I long ago I decided the bible was a nice book of stories but like everything else had been revised so many times, by men to fit that they thought the authors meant. That to take it as the truth and the whole truth was a little more than I could do. I went for Sean and Hamish. Lightening candles for them, kneeling in the pew talking to them as if they were still with me and could here me. I know a contradiction in ideas. But church is where I feel closest to them anymore. Started corn beef and cabbage for dinner than tackled the papers I had collected on friday. Making a list of names that I didn't recognize. But I'd been out of the city for so long. Didn't know the players anymore. Or at least not the newest of them. Some names were like old friends, others I rather have seen buried six feet under. But luck or damn good body guards had made sure they were still walking this earth. Gave up after a couple of hours as I just couldn't' see straight anymore. Took a shower, ate dinner than went to the pub for a bit.

Ended up working. Met a man named Michael Harrington, by the way he talks and his calling me Lass. I'd say he's from Erin or his family was at one time. Haven't had time to get to know him. But I am going to make a point to do so. Declan was there with Molly and Barb. Before they left he did get time to tell me that one of the names I gave him was also on the list McGaffery's lawyer had. But not which name. Worked till closing. Took the subway home as always. The shadow picked me up a block from the put once again. Now I'm wondering who he or she works for? Those that took Sean and Hamish out. Or are they Declan's employers? It's something I will find an answer for.

[Poplollies]

*yawning as I take a break from writing in my journal, getting up from the couch, changing the CD to "Pure Irish" than going for more coffee, stopping to look out the windows to the street outside, the rain coming down in buckets. I can hear it pinging off the window, dark eyes watching the drops run down it for a moment or to. The street lamps a blur thru it. Leaning against the window frame drinking my coffee. Knowing I need to go and finish up the journal. I need to keep it up to date so I don't forget something. No matter how small it seems now. It could mean a lot down the road. Seems the smallest things are what tip you off or show you the truth. Pushing off the window frame, walking back to the couch, bare feet not making a sound on the carpet, laying the mug down once more. Getting comfortable on the couch again. Than writing.*

Nov. 6th

Monday, I spent the day cleaning the apartment and getting my wash caught up at the laundry mat. I really need to get some wheels. My shadow was hanging with me as usual. I haven't tried to confront them as yet. I need to know first who is having me followed. Got ready for work after making some calls oversea's I need to talk to Declan. Some of the names I've found have pasts that involves the IRA. I know once he was involved with them. But I don't' know if he still is

When I got to work the place as very busy for a Monday night. Barb was behind the bar. She took a break when I started my shift. Micheal was there again, talking with Lindsey. Declan and Molly came in as well.I had made sure everyone had drinks. Lindsey and Micheal took to the dance floor when the jukebox played "Four Green Fields".  Took care of the guys at the pool table when I was called to the back. I was wanted on the phone. When I answered a voice that was disguised told me to back off and to mind my own business. That Sean and Hamish had gotten what they deserved and if I wished to keep my head on my shoulders I would be a good Colleen and stick to washing dishes, get married and have babies instead of poking into men's business. To say that pissed me off it putting it lightly. I lost it, when I should have kept my wits about me and tried to keep him or her talking. I told the son of a bitch off, just before I could slam the phone down. The voice told me I'd been left something behind the pub.

Needless to say. I was over heard by Declan,Molly,Bard and Micheal. Declan came into the kitchen as I was heading to the back door. He asked me what was going on. I told him as I undid the locks for the back door. I went to step outside, when he moved around me pulling a gun. I whispered to him, that I see he had disregarded his employers instructions about guns as we both checked out the alley. He and I both spotted something beside the dumpster. As soon as he figured there was no danger he told me to go and see what it was. I had dropped my dagger into my hand anyway. Some things just come naturally. There was something for me beside the dumpster and it's message was clear to me even if it wasn't to Declan.

It was a large jar with liquid in it, but it was what was floating in the liquid that was the message. A human eye ball the color of Hamish's eyes and Sean's left hand. How do I know it was his. Easy for the Celtic ring I had given him for his twenty first birthday was on the hand. I showed it to Declan, if someone can turn green he did. He asked me what it meant. The message was old school outlaw biker. The eye meant I was being watched. Sean's hand was to tell me that he hadn't known what his right hand man was doing and it cost him. Aye it had, his life. This time I kept it together. Told Molly,Barb and Micheal was kids playing tricks. Didn't tell them about the jar. I'm going to take it to the police this week just to have it checked out. But I won't be taking Declan with me. He doesn't need involved in this and has enough on his plate keeping Molly and Barb safe. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. At the moment the jar is in the bottom drawer of my refrig.

*tossing the journal on the table along with the pen, my hands shaking once more as I think about the jar and it's meaning, picking up my coffee mug, taking a long swallow of the coffee, sighing softly than just letting my thoughts drift. Needing to clear them before sleeping or I won't sleep at all*

[Poplollies]

*Pushing my hair back off my face as I walk across the living room, slipping "The Dubliners" in the cd player, turning the volume up just enough to fill the living room with the haunting melodies. Getting my mug of coffee from the kitchen, laying it on the coffee table. Going to the door, checking the newly installed alarm system, seeing tis still set. Pushing my hair back off my face. Dressed in an oversized fleece top that hangs on my body, coming to just about my knees, a long with a pair of grey lounge pants. Going to the safe, taking out my journal, laying it on the coffee table, getting a pen, than curling up on the couch, taking a long swallow of my coffee, chewing on the end of the of my pen. Than writing:

Nov. 13th

Monday. Recieved a message from the NYPD, that they would like to see me again at the station. I went and was given back the empty jar. The lab tech. Told me the contents were now police property and someone would be getting in contact with me about them. I tried to ask about the results of the tests on them. She couldn't give me any answers. Said that as it was now a police matter, that I should leave it in there hands. To say I left the station pissed is putting it mildly. I worked monday night, the pub was busy. Didn't see Declan to tell him I'd been to the police with the jar. I didn't tell the police about his role in finding the jar. Better to keep his name out of the mess. Went straight home after work.

Nov. 14

Tuesday, Denny had given me the night off so I could meet with Bobby Campball at the "Four Seasons" to talk about modeling for him. I hadn't said a word to Denny about it. But the pub is a small world. Barb had heard Bobby's offer and told Denny about it. So I ended up with the night off. I walked around Central Park to kill time before I had to meet with Bobby. My shadow was there. Never getting close enough to see if it was a man or woman. I grabbed a cab outside of the park. Bobby wasn't there when I arrived. The Hostess took me to the table and I asked for another away from most of the crowd. After she had gone to get me some water a man I'd never seen came up to the table. He asked if I was Rafe'ella Micheals. Few that know call me by my full name. After finding out he was Lt. Friday from police department. He questioned me about the contents of the jar. Along with confirming that the hand belonged to Sean. He asked if I might know who the eye ball belonged to. I told him that it was probaby my other brother Hamish. I agreed to go to the station and give a DNA sample. To see if there was a match. Before he left he asked me if I thought there was a connection between their deaths and Patrick McGaffery's. I told him no as I didn't know the man. Along with just having met his daughter. I could tell by the look in his eyes he didn't believe me. But didn't explore it any farther. About than Bobby showed up and Lt. Friday left.

((to be continued))

[Poplollies]

Feb. 6th

*Making sure the door and security system was turned on before heading to the safe hidden in the floor of the living room. The locks and system, taken care of more out of habit than anything else. Taking out my journal, and Sean's. Shutting the safe, placing the boards back, pulling the carpet over it. Going to the couch, laying the journals on my lap, lifting up my coffee, blowing over it as I just sit and think. Trying to condense the past couple months so that I can put them in concise order and with the fewest words possible.*

*Putting Sean's journal aside for the moment, picking up mine and reading over my last entry. God it had been so long since I'd taken time to even write in it. Chewing on the end of my pen as I put my thoughts in order, after last night it was hard to go back to fill in the gaps. But if I didn't last night wouldn't make sense at all. Taking a long swallow of my coffee, laying it aside, pulling on my pony tail to tighten it, tossing it over my shoulder than writing*

*I had dinner with Bobby that evening. He was as smooth and slick as he looked. With enough boyish charm to win me over against my better judgement. I agreed to pose for him. We set a date for later that week. The photo shoot took place two nights later *chuckling* seems Denny conveniently had given me the night off. I went to his studio, he paid for the cab to take me there. He had wine poured for us both as I got there. We talked for a bit, about what he wanted. There were several different outfits in the changing room. Ranging from simple black dress to a flowing gown of brilliant blue. I put on the black number first. Than I just went with the flow, letting my body move and pose as if Bobby wasn't even there. Oh he was there though. Getting the shots he wanted for the shoot and for his private collection.  Those oops shoots *L* where a nipple might be showing or if he was lucky where he wanted to end up buried in later that night *L*.  Dec called while I was still at his studio. Bobby said he could come over, if I wanted.

I told Dec where I was. He showed up as I was in a one of the other outfits. At the moment I don't remember which,to much time has past. I do remember just how different they were from each other. The playboy photographer and scruffy handsome man I'd known most of my life. The testosterone in the room went up Thur the roof to say the least. I got Thur the rest of the shoot, finishing with the long flowing gown. Bobby was full of praise. Dec just kept watching me. It was like he was seeing me for the first time in a long time.  We wrapped up the shoot. Bobby said he would send me the pic's and let me know if they sold. Dec shoved a fifty into my hand and told me to take a cab home. I tried to argue but it did me no good. I did get enough time alone with him to tell him about Mick O'Toole being in town. Which didn't bother me. But Mick was bad news and Dec didn't need him knowing he was in NYC. Told Dec I'd talk to him again soon than I left and headed home. Once more someone was following me but I couldn't catch a good look at them or shake them either.

*putting down my journal and going for more coffee and to turn on the CD player. Putting in "Like Red On A Rose" by Alan Jackson. Coming back to the couch, sipping my coffee, picking up my journal once again.*

*Writing down from memory the conversation I had with Mick the last time I run into him and at all places in the police station*

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in an NYPD precinct station and says to ALL: *sitting in the chair, speaking softly with the lab tech, than opening my mouth, feeling her swab the inside of my cheek, the swab going into a tube, signing the papers, asking her to let Lt. Friday know that I finally made it in for the DNA sample, she smiles and tells me she will, slipping my jacket back on, grabbing my purse, leaving the room, walking the hallway to the front of the building*

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in an NYPD precinct station and says to ALL: *Blinking, stopping as I hear someone call my name, and not the shortened version but my full name, slowly turning, dark eyes sweeping the hallway, growling under my breath as I see tis Mick, wondering what in the hell he's doing here and now, pushing my hair back off my face waiting for him to catch up*

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in an NYPD precinct station and says to ALL: *Stuffing my hands in the pockets of my jacket, walking down the hallway once more as he comes up to me* Hello Mick, what are you doing here?

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in an NYPD precinct station and says to ALL: *Seeing his eyes looking at my face, turning away from him, dark eyes cold, pulling my jacket tighter around me, calf high boots tapping lightly against the floor, pushing Thur the door to the main room, nodding to the Sargent as I walk past the desk* Oh come on Rafe'ella don't be like that.........I came to see you...........*pushing Thur the doors to the outside, going quickly past the other officers, hitting the side walk, looking around making sure no one is close* Bullshit Mick, why are you here and don't tell me it's to see me, come on lets keep walking less chance of being overheard*

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is on the streets of NYC and says to ALL: *Feeling him grab my upper arm as I walk quickly down the street, stopping turning to look at him, growling, the anger in my eyes easy to see* Don't touch me. Cut the crap and get to the point Mick, you have only two motivations in life, money and sex and seeing sex with you even if you were the last up right being on the face of the earth still wouldn't happen. I repeat what do you want.

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is on the streets of NYC and says to ALL: *Feeling his hand slip away from my arm, looking at him as he moves to walk beside me* Christ Rafe'ella your still the ice queen bitch you always were, hell I bet some dumb fucker that actually got between your legs would have his pecker turned into a Popsicle before he could find a warm spot on you...........*snorting* Charming as always Mick, you must have to beat the woman off with a stick *rme*

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is on the streets of NYC and says to ALL: What I want is my cut..........I know your brother's told you where the gold is and I want my cut and I'm not going away till I get it. So your stuck with me. *just about stumbles as I hear him say gold, grabbing his arm and not gently, stopping looking around us, than turning back to him* What in the hell are you talking about? Sean and Hamish were killed months ago in a explosion in a warehouse in Erin. They were moving guns idiot. *growling as I let go of him and start walking again, tea length skirt flapping around my legs* Your the idiot than Rafe'ella, they were paid along with me in gold. *looking around again* Will you keep your voice down or do you want everyone in god's creation to hear you. This isn't Ireland dumb ass, your just a bug to be crushed under someone's boot. At home they may thing your the next best thing to fresh cut peat, only you smell better, but here your nothing. So iffen your not talking out your ass as normal, fill me in and do it damn quick. Unlike the girls at home. you don't even rate a first glance with me, much less the time of day.

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in a coffee shop and says to ALL: *Seeing the coffee shop up ahead, going in and making for an empty table against the windows taking the seat with the wall at my back, smirking as I see him go to argue about it than taking the seat across from me* Ok start talking Mick, and please actually make sense any trips into the fantasy world you live in and I'm out of here.

Rafe'ella Micheals
Bartender
Mahoneys Irish Pub
is in a coffee shop and says to ALL: *he pulls out the chair, sits down, his mean small eyes drifting over me. As always trying to make me squirm. Not moving and fixing him with a cold stare* You were saying? *Mick looks around the coffee shop than back to me, speaking softly for once in his life* I want my cut of the gold your brother's and I were to be paid for the rest of the guns. They were to get it before the rest of the guns were shipped. *laughing harshly* But they weren't delievered you dumb ass. Or didn't you hear me earlier. Hamish and Sean were killed in the warehouse explosion. So get it thru your thick skull numb nuts. There is no gold. *seeing him snarl and go to grab my hand, pulling it back, but not before letting him see my dagger laying in it* They got the gold bitch. I want my cut and I will get it and the other thing that brought me to this god forsaken place. *shaking my head as I get up* Good luck Mick as always your as stubborn as a bulldog, to damn bad your not even close to being as bright as one. *walking out of the coffee shop, grabbing a taxi as I hear him yelling for me, looking out the back window of it as it drives away leaving him standing there cussing*

*shuddering and laying the journal down once more. Picking up my coffee and drinking it, trying to clear away the memory of that meeting*