“The Fun Run was a good idea,” Gerard said as he took the piece of paper from Jack and read the three couples’ names. “We have so many events for the hard-core runners in this town, it makes sense to finally have a race that isn’t competitive.”

Regan smiled. “I think Rory’s made it his life’s mission to get everyone he meets on the road to exercising.”

“He has his work cut out for him then, doesn’t he?” Gerard asked with amusement. “I have to give him credit. He’s very sincere, and I know how hard he worked getting this race launched. He talked about the Fun Run nonstop for months, all over town, practically shaming people into signing up. Louise and I would have been there, but we were on holiday in Dublin that weekend.” Gerard paused, held up the list, and read the names to himself, silently moving his lips.

“They’re the only people registered for the race Rory couldn’t identify,” Jack said. “Except for the one couple who signed up at the last minute and illegibly scribbled their names.”

Maybe they’re authors, Regan thought with slight amusement, thinking of a couple of her mother’s writer friends whose signatures were nothing more than a squiggle. If it weren’t for their name splashed across the cover of their books, you’d never guess in a million years what the signature inside stood for.

“Hmmm,” Gerard murmured, squinting at the list. “Eamonn and Donna Byrne, Joe and Josie Cullen, Brad and Linda Thompson. None of these people are familiar to me, either, but we’ll do some checking. One of the young interns here at the radio station covered the race. He goes to the university and works with us part-time.” Gerard pressed a button on his phone. “Would you ask Michael to come to my office?”

“Right away,” a young female voice responded.

Regan leaned forward in her chair. “It just seems that if Jane and John Doe had the decal from the race on one of their bags, they must have been in the race. The decals weren’t for sale, and Rory says they barely had enough to give to everyone who ran the race.”

“And even though they’re thieves, the decal is hardly something they would have bothered stealing,” Jack added.

“I bet they didn’t even realize the decal was on their bag when they checked into Hennessy Castle,” Regan said. “If they go to all that trouble to disguise themselves, they certainly wouldn’t want to have anything on their property that would in any way identify them.”

“It’s the little details that often trip up criminals, isn’t it?” Gerard asked. “After all their grand planning.”

“You’re right,” Regan answered.

There was a tapping on Gerard’s open door. Regan and Jack turned around. A young kid who looked all of nineteen was standing in the doorway. He had curly sandy hair, a quick smile, and a certain eagerness. “Hello,” he said. “Gerard, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Michael.” Gerard introduced Regan and Jack.

Michael’s eyes lit up. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he said to Jack. “You, too, Regan.”

Jack looked at him quizzically. “You have?”

“Indeed. On Gerard’s show last week he was talking on and on about you coming to Ireland for your honeymoon and your job in New York and the crimes you both have solved. Your jobs sound so interesting!”

I’m not crazy, Regan thought. I got one of those feelings this morning that my grandmother always talked about. Gerard is the reason that Jane and John Doe knew we’d be here.

“Keeps us busy,” Jack answered, maintaining his composure. It was one of the many reasons Regan loved him. Jack always remained unflappable when he had every right to lose it-like not wanting his honeymoon plans broadcast over the airwaves of Galway.

“Hennessy Castle sounded like a great spot to relax,” Michael continued. “Who’d have guessed that thieves would follow you there?”

And that’s how they knew exactly where we’d be staying, Regan realized. Gerard wasn’t kidding when he said the Irish like to exchange information. The problem is that Gerard does it sitting in front of a microphone. She looked over at him. He didn’t even flinch. As a matter of fact, he was smiling.

“Yes, yes,” Gerard said. “I got such a response from listeners who heard me talking about your job, Jack. They really-” He paused and looked at the less-than-thrilled expressions on Regan’s and Jack’s faces. “Ohhhh, goodness, you said you didn’t know how the Does knew you were here. You don’t think they heard about your plans on my show, do you?” he asked, concern on his face but a touch of excitement in his voice.

Yes, Regan thought. I do.

“Sometimes when I’m here late at night, I feel as if I’m talking to the wall. That’s why it’s always good to have a guest. People call in, but some nights I think everyone in Galway must be asleep. It’s nice to know people are out there listening, but to think your criminals could have tuned in to my show? My word!”

Jack shrugged. “Who knows, Gerard? They could have learned about our plans from a lot of sources, I suppose. But it seems odd that they would go to all the trouble of coming to Ireland to embarrass me when the only thing they made off with was May Reilly’s tablecloth.”

“Don’t let May Reilly hear you say that,” Gerard joked. He adjusted his glasses. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. My show is like a late-night chat. I talk about all sorts of things. People call in expressing their opinions, asking questions…As a matter of fact-”

I can’t take it, Regan thought.

“-I’d been talking about my niece’s upcoming wedding. Then I happened to mention that you two were coming over, etcetera, etcetera.”

Those darned etceteras, Regan thought. They’ll get you every time.

“A woman called in and said she hoped you’d be staying in one of the fine hotels in Galway. I told her you were planning to stay at Hennessy Castle. I guess I shouldn’t have been so specific.”

Guess not, Regan thought.

“When was the show?” Jack asked quickly.

“I know exactly when it was!” Michael volunteered quickly. “It was last Monday night. My birthday. I went back to my dormitory after having a couple of pints with my friends to celebrate. It was late, and I flipped on Gerard’s show. I never listen to it, you know, uh…because…because-” he stammered, looking to recover “-because I’m usually studying or asleep.”

“Last Monday,” Jack repeated. “Eight days ago. Which means that if it was Jane Doe calling to ask where we were staying or even if the Does just heard the program, then they were in Ireland a full week before the burglary. That gives us something to go on. And if they were here for the race last November, maybe this is where they like to spend time.”

“Galway is a lovely city,” Gerard said, nodding. He reached over toward Michael. “Do you recognize any of these names?

The young lad took the piece of paper and looked at it quickly. “I do!” he said with exuberance.

“Who?”

“Eamonn and Donna Byrne.”

“And who might they be?”

“They’re the parents of a friend of mine at university. The Byrnes live in Dublin and came to visit my friend for the weekend. Jody never gets out of bed before the crack of noon, so her parents decided to run in the race Sunday morning and meet her for brunch afterwards. I saw them at the race. They walked most of the way.”

“You don’t know the other couples?” Gerard asked.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Michael, what can you tell us about the Fun Run?” Jack asked. “We have reason to believe that Jane and John Doe might have participated.”

“Ah, let’s see,” Michael said. “Well, you know, it was a different kind of race. A lot of laughs and good fun, actually. One woman ran with her baby pram-”

We heard about that, Regan thought.

“-and groups of friends ran together to raise money for different causes. Some people got their elderly parents out there. One guy who had to be about sixty was walking with his mother. I heard her yell at him to zip up his jacket. It was pretty funny. It turns out he’s a dentist in town, and she works in his office.” Michael laughed. “A friend of mine went there once and said he’d never go back for fear he’d have to wear dentures before he was twenty. The dentist is a frustrated stand-up comic.” He paused. “Nothing really crazy happened the day of the race. The only excitement I recall was when a high school kid threw up at the finish line. He ran as hard as he could instead of pacing himself. That’s about it.”