Carla Neggers (5 page)

“Do you know anything about this Sean Murphy?” Colin asked.

She shook her head. “Not really, no.”

It wasn’t a complete answer, and she suspected he knew it. The Murphy farmhouse was up through the fields behind the cottage, not as close to the water. She remembered it from her day trip four years ago. But she needed to pull her thoughts about Declan’s Cross together before she explained everything to Colin, not explain scattershot—not let herself feel pressured to tell him things about the theft and the investigation that she couldn’t tell him, shouldn’t tell him.

His approach would be simple and direct. He’d tell her he wanted to know whatever she knew. All of it. Now. No waiting, no thinking. It wasn’t a question of trust, he’d say, as much as a matter of being practical. He was a deep-cover federal agent. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle the facts of a serial art thief.

“It’s a beautiful view,” Emma said, taking in the gray-blue sea as it melted into the horizon. “Of course, you’re a former lobsterman and marine patrol officer. You probably don’t see what I see when you look out at the ocean.”

Colin moved back from the fence and stood next to her. “Julianne’s a marine biologist. She probably sees things neither of us would notice.”

“Do you want to wait for her?”

“We can at least catch our breath.”

Even as he spoke, a small red car appeared down the lane, inching toward the cottage. As it came closer, Emma recognized Julianne Maroney at the wheel and frowned at Colin. “I thought her friend was picking her up.”

“So did I.” He nodded toward the creeping car. “She’s not setting any land-speed records, is she?”

“First time driving in Ireland? Fresh off a plane? I wouldn’t be, either.”

The tiny Micra came to a crooked stop in front of the cottage. Julianne leaped out as if the front seat had caught fire. “I made it alive. Damn. A miracle if there ever was one.” She exhaled, placing a hand on her heart as if to steady her nerves, then focused on Emma and Colin. “What are you two doing here?”

“We thought we’d welcome you to Ireland,” Emma said.

“How did you know—” Julianne stopped, sighed. “Andy.” She glared at Colin. “He told you?”

Colin shrugged. “Emailed me after he talked to Ryan and then again last night.”

“Figures. No secrets in Rock Point.” She lowered her hand from her heart and gave an exaggerated shudder. “Jet lag, driving on the left, roundabouts, hedgerows—my heart was already in my throat. Then I get to this lane. Cliffs. No guardrails. No shoulder. It’s insane. What if I’d met another car?”

Emma smiled. “Looks as if you did just fine.”

“At least this place exists. I was starting to think I’d gotten all my wires crossed.” Julianne hunched her shoulders, rubbed her neck with one hand. “Ugh. I’m so stiff. I must have tensed every muscle in my body driving. I didn’t sleep much on the plane. It still feels like the middle of the night.”

“Get some sunlight in your eyes,” Colin said. “You’ll be fine.”

She bristled. “I know I’ll be fine.”

He glanced into her rented car. “What happened to your ride? Lindsey Hargreaves, right? She was picking you up in Shannon?”

“Yes, and I have no idea what happened to her.” Julianne sounded slightly less combative. “I have a terrible feeling she’s meeting me in Dublin instead of Shannon. I take it you haven’t seen her? She’s not here?”

Emma shook her head. “We only just got into Declan’s Cross ourselves.”

“I’ve called and texted her but nothing. I must have screwed up. Right now I just feel stupid more than anything else.”

“A little late to feel stupid,” Colin said.

Julianne scowled at him. “Always count on a Donovan to make you feel better.”

“You barely know this woman,” he said, obviously not about to let Julianne off the hook. “You have no idea if she’s reliable.”

“I know that, Colin. I got here alive, didn’t I?” She tightened her shawl-like sweater around her and sighed at the view. “What a great spot. It’s going to be a fantastic two weeks.” She turned to Emma. “Thanks for the welcome, but you and Colin can go on your way now.”

Emma could see that Julianne was rattled and tired from her long, unexpected drive from Shannon, on little sleep, and she was defensive around Colin. Probably should have left him at the hotel, Emma thought, then said gently, “We’re staying in the village. Just overnight. The O’Byrne House Hotel. It’s really lovely. I hope you’ll stop by before we leave.”

“Wait, what? You’re staying in Declan’s Cross?” Julianne’s dark hair blew in the wind, the last of her ponytail coming loose. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, ma’am,” Colin said, blunt as ever. “Get yourself settled. We can talk later.”

She stiffened visibly. “I’ll do exactly as I please.”

He turned to Emma. “That spa’s looking better and better.”

Julianne ignored him and headed up the walk to the bungalow. She tried the front door. It was unlocked, and she went in without so much as a backward glance.

Emma stood next to Colin by the little car. “You and Julianne go back a long way. I’ll go talk to her and let her know how to reach us. Why don’t you stay out here and count sheep?”

“I remember her bossing us around when she was six. She liked to carry around a bucket filled with seaweed and periwinkles.”

“Not afraid of her, are you?”

He grinned. “Terrified. I have to remember she’s almost finished with her master’s in marine biology. She’s always been smart. Andy is, too, but he never was a student. He dropped out of the only college that accepted him.”

“Is that why he and Julianne aren’t together anymore?”

“I haven’t asked. Won’t, either. He doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder.”

“Not that a Donovan ever would,” Emma said. “He does well as a lobsterman, and his boat-restoration business seems to be getting off the ground. Do you think he’s worried about keeping Julianne in Rock Point, somehow limiting her horizons?”

“I have no idea. They both do what they want. Always have.” His tone softened. “Go on. I’ll grab her suitcase. She won’t thank me for it. You watch.”

He seemed more amused and expectant than annoyed. Emma hoped Lindsey Hargreaves had left a note in the cottage to explain why she hadn’t met Julianne at the airport. That would ease Julianne’s mind. Colin’s, too. He clearly didn’t like that this woman hadn’t shown up.

Julianne had left the front door open, and Emma stepped inside, entering a living room with a tile floor, throw rugs and IKEA-style furnishings in neutral colors. There was a fireplace, next to it a bin of kindling and peat.

A pine table served as a divider between the living room and a sunlit kitchen on the opposite end of the little one-story bungalow. Julianne stood by the table, looking out double windows at the front yard and across the lane to the sea.

“Sorry I snapped at Colin,” she said, sounding more tired than apologetic. “Not that he can’t take it.”

Emma walked over to her. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Really. I’m just frazzled. If I’d known Lindsey wasn’t meeting me, I’d have been more prepared to drive.” She glanced around the living room and adjoining kitchen. “It’s a cute place, though, isn’t it?”

“It is. It looks comfortable and well-equipped.”

“Father Bracken knows the owner somehow. I didn’t get the details. I’d planned to stay in a bed-and-breakfast, but I jumped at the chance to rent a cottage. Granny was reassured that Father Bracken recommended it.”

“And you invited Lindsey to join you here?”

Julianne nodded. “It has two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. Lindsey said conditions at the field station are a little primitive. She’s been staying there.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks, maybe. I took a quick look around, but there’s no sign she’s arrived yet. I’m sure we just got our wires crossed.” Julianne sighed at the view. “I wish Granny could see this. She’s always wanted to go to Ireland.”

Emma went into the kitchen. It had white cabinets and a white countertop, a sturdy stove and small refrigerator, and another window looking out at the sea. The back door was through an adjoining mudroom with a washer and dryer. On the counter was a welcome basket filled with bread, digestives, instant coffee, tea and a bottle of red wine. She peeked in the refrigerator and noticed milk, orange juice, eggs, butter, jam, cheese and a bottle of white wine.

“It’s a bit more remote up here than I expected,” Julianne said, coming into the kitchen. “I’m glad it’s still within walking distance of the village. I love to walk, but I suppose I’ll have to drive to get groceries. Helps to know I’m not likely to meet many cars.”

“You’ll get used to Irish roads.”

“I just need a good night’s sleep. I’m falling over on my feet.”

As she spoke, Colin entered the cottage and set her suitcase and tote bag by the front door. He glanced around the living room, then joined her and Emma in the kitchen. “There’s no cell service up here. No landline, either. Wi-Fi?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask because I don’t care.” Julianne pulled the bottle of wine out of the welcome basket. “I’ll find a phone if I need one, and an internet connection, too. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Looks like it’s just you and this Sean Murphy up here.” Colin took the digestives out of the basket. “These things are addictive. Light a fire, make some tea, kick back and relax.” He grinned. “Not that I’m telling you what to do.”

Julianne smiled, at least a little. “Sounds perfect. Maybe Lindsey ran into a delay and tried to get in touch with me but couldn’t due to technical difficulties. I’m sure she’ll turn up. I can’t wait to check out the field station, but I need to get settled first.”

“It’s her brainchild?” Emma asked.

“That’s what she told me. It’s still in the early planning stages. I know I just met Lindsey and this trip is impulsive, but I’m not being reckless. I’m familiar with the Hargreaves Oceanographic Institute. It’s solid. They do good work. I’ll also be going into Cork to see about my internship.” She grabbed the bread out of the basket and set it on the counter. “It’s exciting. Being here.”

Colin placed the digestives next to the bread. “What’s the research focus of this field station?”

“Irish porpoises, whales and dolphins, as far as I know,” Julianne said.

“As opposed to Welsh porpoises, whales and dolphins?”

She made a face. “That’s something Andy would say.”

Colin winked at her. “Uh-oh.”

Color rose in her cheeks. “Just don’t tell him I got stood up at the airport. He won’t ask, but don’t tell him if he does. And don’t volunteer anything. I know I’m being very seventh grade, but I’ve learned to head you Donovans off at the pass, so to speak. Learned the hard way, I might add.”

“As if Maroneys aren’t just as rock-headed,” Colin said half under his breath.

“Maybe it’s no wonder our hometown has ‘rock’ in its name.” Julianne smiled, then stifled a yawn. “I’m so tired I could melt onto the floor. Now that I’m here...” She glanced around the compact, tidy kitchen. “I won’t mind staying here on my own if Lindsey doesn’t show up.”

Colin stood back from the counter. “I’d like to know where she is.”

“She’s probably got a million things going on and just forgot. People forget things, you know. Not all of us are as perfect as the Donovans.”

Their moment of near-camaraderie had passed, Emma saw, but she said nothing.

Colin sighed. “The Donovans aren’t perfect, Julianne.”

“I know that. I was being sarcastic. You’re going all FBI on me and jumping from A to Z without any good reason.”

“I’m not jumping to anything. I’d just like to hear from this woman.”

“I get that. That’s why you’re an FBI agent and I’m a marine biologist. You have a suspicious mind.” Julianne had clearly lost what limited patience she had with him. “I’ll let you know when I hear from Lindsey, okay? I have your number. I’ll text you.”

Emma started out of the kitchen into the living room. “We’d love to have you join us at the hotel for lunch, dinner, a Father Bracken–approved whiskey—whatever you’re up for. It’s nice to see someone from home.”

“Thanks, Emma,” Julianne said, her tone warmer. “Right now I’ll be happy with a grilled cheese sandwich and a nap. Sorry if I’m being defensive. It’s good to see you guys. Really. I’ll stop at the field station later and find out if anyone there has heard from Lindsey.”

“Colin and I can pop in on our way back to the hotel,” Emma said. “We’ll let you know if she’s there or anyone there has heard from her. Enjoy your grilled cheese sandwich.”

Colin said only, “You know where to find us.”

“Yep. Thanks again.”

Emma could see it was time to leave and all but elbowed Colin back outside. The air had turned cooler, and the sky was overcast, no sun now, although with the short November days, dusk would be coming early. “It’s a cute place,” she said. “Finian never would have recommended it if he thought it wasn’t safe.”

“I guess.”

“Julianne’s like a little sister to you.”

“More like a thorn in my side.” Colin glanced back at the lonely bungalow. “I guess there’s no way I’m going to like leaving her up here by herself.”

“As you said, she knows where to find us.”

The ewes returned to the fence, baaing, crowding against each other. Colin grimaced. “The sheep can keep Julianne company.” He tucked his hand into Emma’s. “Let’s go check out this field station.”

5

JULIANNE LASTED IN
the cottage for ten minutes before she had to get out into the Irish air. She couldn’t believe she was finally here. She tightened her sweater around her and walked across the lane to a stone wall. She could hear waves whooshing on the rocks far below her, and the sigh of the wind in the grass and hollows.

So beautiful, so peaceful.

She breathed deeply, releasing some of the tension that had built up since she’d strapped herself into her little rented car and hit the Irish roads.

The lane continued past the cottage, narrowing even more as it turned to dirt and disappeared around a bend. She noticed a man come around the bend, ambling toward her. He wore muddy work clothes and muddy dark green Wellies, as if he’d just come in from the fields. As he approached her, she saw he had thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes, something of a devil-may-care look about him. She guessed he was in his late thirties—Father Bracken’s age, maybe a little younger.

“You must be Julianne,” he said in a pronounced Irish accent. “I’m Sean Murphy, Fin Bracken’s friend. Welcome to Declan’s Cross.”

“Thank you. It’s great to meet you, Mr. Murphy.”

“Sean.”

She smiled. “The cottage is fantastic. I’m glad it worked out on such short notice.” The wind whipped her hair in her face as she stifled yet another yawn. “Father Bracken sends his best.”

“He’s been telling me tales of bean-hole suppers.”

Better than tales of attempted murder, Julianne supposed. “I never got a chance to ask him how you two know each other. He’s not from around here, is he?”

“He’s from Kerry, but he’s visited Declan’s Cross many times.” Sean glanced at her car, still parked crookedly on the side of the lane. “You drove yourself down from Shannon, did you?”

“I did. I’m a little wobbly, but I did okay. Necessity forced me out of my comfort zone. Lindsey Hargreaves was supposed to meet me, but—well, she didn’t, for whatever reason. Has she been in touch with you, by any chance?”

“No, she hasn’t,” the Irishman said. “She’s not here, then?”

“I don’t know if she’s in Declan’s Cross, but there’s no sign of her at the cottage. You know her, though, right?”

“We’ve met. A friend of mine has done some diving with her.” Sean glanced toward the sea a moment, then back at her. “Have you heard from Lindsey at all today?”

Julianne shook her head. “Not since Sunday afternoon. We emailed each other about plans to meet at the airport. She offered. I didn’t ask. I didn’t expect to hear from her again before I arrived this morning. My flight got in so early. I think my phone’s working okay—I’ll check my messages again when I go into the village. I gather there’s no cell service up here.”

“It’s spotty at best.”

“That’s fine with me.” She realized she sounded as if she didn’t want to talk to anyone back home, but it was just Andy she didn’t want to talk to. And her brother, since he’d ratted her out to Andy, who’d ratted her out to Colin. She pushed windblown hair out of her face and added, more cheerfully, “I’ll let you know if I hear from Lindsey. I’m sure I will.”

Sean studied her a moment, as if she wasn’t quite what he’d expected. “Fin says you’re a marine biologist. I see dolphins and porpoises now and again.” He nodded toward the water. “I saw a whale once.”

“Recently?”

He smiled. “I was a boy.”

Julianne didn’t know what she expected an Irish farmer to be like, but Sean Murphy wasn’t it. It was like having a mix of a young Liam Neeson and Colin Farrell up the lane. “I thought I’d get some fresh air while I can. They say sunlight can help jet lag. It’s in short supply right now, but it was sunny on the drive down here. I’d rather crawl in bed and sleep, anyway.”

“You’ll find it gets dark early this time of year.”

“Maine does, too, but Ireland’s even farther north. The Gulf Stream helps keep the climate mild here, but it doesn’t help with the short winter days.” She suddenly felt self-conscious, as if she’d already said too much. “I’m thrilled to be here, though.”

“You’ll have to come back in June when it stays light until late into the evening.”

She relaxed some. “That would be great. I start an internship in January in Cork that runs until May. I’d love to stay on a couple more weeks just to go sightseeing. Maybe I’ll get my grandmother to join me. She’s always wanted to see Ireland.”

“I noticed you had company earlier,” Sean said, checking a wooden fence post that was leaning to one side. “Friends of yours?”

Julianne nodded. “Colin Donovan and Emma Sharpe. They’re staying at a hotel in the village. The O’Byrne, I think they said.”

“It’s a good place.” He straightened some of the wrapped-wire fencing strung between the posts. “Donovan—Fin’s FBI friend?”

“That’s right.” She couldn’t tell if he also recognized Emma’s name. “He and Emma have been in Ireland a couple weeks. They borrowed Father Bracken’s cottage—I think it’s in County Kerry.”

“She’s with the FBI, too, as I recall.”

Julianne wasn’t that comfortable discussing Emma and Colin’s FBI status. “They’re not here on official business or anything like that. They just came to welcome me to Ireland.” She decided to change the subject. “Have you always lived in Declan’s Cross?”

He nodded to the bungalow. “I grew up right here. It’s been redone since then.”

“It must have been something, being a kid out here. The village lives up to the pictures I saw on the internet. Of course, my heart was in my throat when I drove through it just now, but I’m looking forward to exploring. I love to walk.”

“It’s a good place for walking. If you need anything, just find me. My uncle is up here most days, too. Paddy Murphy. Give either of us a shout anytime.”

Julianne found herself not wanting to be alone just yet. “Farming must be a ton of work,” she said.

Sean smiled, fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “Most things worth anything are a lot of work, don’t you think?”

“That’s a good attitude. I’ve always loved whales and dolphins, but it’s not as if organic chemistry came naturally to me.” She turned her back to the water—and the wind—as she looked across the rolling fields. Several sheep stared back at her. “The sheep look all set for winter. Father Bracken says Irish winters are cold, dark and damp.”

“He’s right, but I wouldn’t know any different.”

“I hope he doesn’t think a Maine winter will be any better. It’s at least as long as an Irish winter, and it can get very cold and snowy. Helps to like to do things outside. I like cross-country skiing in perfect conditions, and snowshoeing’s a lot of fun. I’ve never gone ice fishing.” Julianne remembered that Andy was into ice fishing. She’d thought they’d be together over the winter, and he’d take her out to his fishing hut on a lake up north. She shook off that image before it could take shape. “I hope Father Bracken’s enjoying Maine.”

“From what he tells me he seems to be. He said you showed Lindsey the sights while she was in Maine last week.”

“I did. We had a great time.”

Sean stepped back onto the lane. “I’ve never been to Maine. I think of lighthouses and lobsters.”

“We saw one lighthouse and a lot of lobsters, especially in Rock Point. I also showed her summer houses, art galleries, a nature trail, a couple of sandy beaches. We did a whirlwind grand tour.”

“Was she interested in seeing anything in particular?”

“She was interested in everything.” Sean Murphy might be an Irish sheep farmer, but he was starting to remind Julianne of Colin with the questions, the suspicion—but she was tired and on the defensive. She’d trust her reactions better after lunch and a nap. “I’ve kept you from your farm work long enough.”

“Not at all.” He zipped up his jacket against the stiffening wind. “Have a good walk.”

She thanked him again. As he headed back down the lane, he didn’t really strike her as an Irish farmer—but what did she know about Irish farmers?

She decided to skip her walk and instead returned to the cottage, the wind whistling in the rocks now. A grilled cheese sandwich definitely sounded good, and maybe a nice fire to take the damp chill out of the air. She’d give it a while longer before she really started to worry about Lindsey Hargreaves.