Sheehan's well-told story failed to capture Beth's fascination. Big Tom Pendergast was, as the story explained, an enormous presence in Kansas City “back in the day”. He was hardly forgotten, and Beth heard stories about his life so many times she could predict the ending of any new one someone bothered telling her. So while Sheehan talked giddily with the other regulars at the bar, she downed the offered shot of Jameson's in silence. To Sheehan's credit, he was a good storyteller; he and the other regulars' reactions provided her with amusement. She smirked as she watched him with the rest of the group.

Then the idiot bartender had to go and propose some crazy idea about reviving the Irish Mob. No matter how subtle he tried to be, his intentions were clear.

She couldn't help but laugh at O'Connor's remark, not because of his humour, but from the familiarity of it. For Beth, the laughter was bitter-sweet; there was unity in it she rarely felt, and while she sensed a longing for it, she shut it down quick. No time for that.

In the face of the numerous other gangs suffocating the city, many of which Beth had been a part of, an Irish Mob would have to bring in some big players if they wanted to get anywhere in the business. Still, Fiddler's Green attracted a host of Irish criminals, though none could be described as big shots just yet. With the right incentives, maybe... [i]What am I thinking?[/i] No, there was no chance of a revival. Not unless Sheehan had some more crazy ideas stuffed up that ridiculous wool cardigan. She watched him wander about the bar. [i]What are you thinking?[/i]

When he came back and leaned closer to them, she knew he was about to suggest something stupid. 

She looked at the young man in the mirror anyway, and rolled her eyes at his lack of tact. What kind of idiot was this kid? At least Sheehan had enough sense to know a threat to his arrangement when he saw it. Beth picked up her half finished beer and turned around in her stool to watch O'Connor approach the dealer. Ever aware of the pistol resting against her ribs and the switchblade in her pocket, she wondered how brave the dealer thought he was.