Born in Shame by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

difficult time for you, Ms. Bodine,” Hobbs began when he took the chair at the table Shannon gestured toward. “I hope I won’t add to it.”
    â€œMy mother died two days ago, Mr. Hobbs. I don’tthink you can make it more difficult than it already is. Cream, sugar?”
    â€œJust black, thanks.” He studied her as she prepared his coffee. Self-possessed, he mused. That would make his job easier. “Was your mother ill, Ms. Bodine?”
    â€œIt was cancer,” she said shortly.
    No sympathy wanted, he judged, and offered none. “I represent Rogan Sweeney,” Hobbs began, “his wife and her family.”
    â€œRogan Sweeney?” Cautious, Shannon joined him at the table. “I know the name, of course. Worldwide Galleries has a branch in New York. They’re based in . . .” She trailed off, setting down her mug before her hands could shake. Ireland, she thought. In Ireland.
    â€œYou know, then.” Hobbs read the knowledge in her eyes. That, too, would make his job easier. “My clients were concerned that the circumstances might be unknown to you.”
    Determined not to falter, Shannon lifted her cup again. “What does Rogan Sweeney have to do with me?”
    â€œMr. Sweeney is married to Margaret Mary Concannon, the oldest daughter of the late Thomas Concannon, of Clare County, Ireland.”
    â€œConcannon.” Shannon closed her eyes until the need to shudder had passed. “I see.” When she opened her eyes again, they were bitterly amused. “I assume they hired you to find me. I find it odd that there would be an interest after all these years.”
    â€œI was hired, initially, to find your mother, Ms. Bodine. I can tell you that my clients only learned of her, and your existence, last year. The investigation was initiated at that time. However, there was some difficulty in locating Amanda Dougherty. As you may know, she lefther home in New York suddenly and without giving her family indication of her destination.”
    â€œI suppose she might not have known it, as she’d been tossed out of the house for being pregnant.” Pushing her coffee aside, Shannon folded her hands. “What do your clients want?”
    â€œThe primary goal was to contact your mother, and to let her know that Mr. Concannon’s surviving children had discovered letters she had written to him, and with her permission, to make contact with you.”
    â€œSurviving children. He’s dead then.” She rubbed a hand to her temple. “Yes, you told me that already. He’s dead. So are they all. Well, you found me, Mr. Hobbs, so your job’s done. You can inform your clients that I’ve been contacted and have no interest in anything further.”
    â€œYour sisters—”
    Her eyes went cold. “I don’t consider them my sisters.”
    Hobbs merely inclined his head. “Mrs. Sweeney and Mrs. Thane may wish to contact you personally.”
    â€œI can’t stop them, can I? But you can forward the fact that I’m not interested in reunions with women I don’t know. What happened between their father and my mother some twenty-eight years ago doesn’t change the status quo. So—” She broke off, eyes sharpening again. “Margaret Mary Concannon, you said? The artist?”
    â€œYes, she is known for her glass work.”
    â€œThat’s an understatement,” Shannon murmured. She’d been to one of M. M. Concannon’s showings at Worldwide New York herself. And had been considering investing in a piece. The idea was almost laughable. “Well, that’s amusing, isn’t it? You can tell Margaret Mary Concannon and her sister—”
    â€œBrianna. Brianna Concannon Thane. She runs a Band B in Clare. You may have heard of her husband as well. He’s a successful mystery writer.”
    â€œGrayson Thane?” At Hobbs’s nod, Shannon did nearly