The Whisper. Carla Neggers

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СКАЧАТЬ was here playing golf with friends and decided to find you and say hello.”

      “No one put you up to it?”

      “What? No. Believe it or not, Sophie, I’m perfectly capable of thinking for myself.”

      “That’s not what I meant, and I think you know it. Percy, when you were here last year, did you find out that I was exploring—having myself a bit of an adventure between chapters of my dissertation?”

      “Following in my father’s footsteps?”

      “Making my own.”

      “He never liked Ireland. He was far more interested in archaeological sites on the European mainland, in South America, Australia. However, to answer your question—I heard that you were chasing ghost and fairy stories with an Irish fisherman out here somewhere.”

      “Did you tell Jay Augustine?”

      The color immediately drained from his face at her blunt question. “I didn’t even see Jay Augustine.” Percy stood up, his coffee barely touched. “I have to go. I just wanted to stop in and say hello. Enjoy your visit with your family, Sophie, and good luck finding full-time work. Don’t forget to let me know if I can help.”

      “I’m sorry, Percy. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

      “We should both forget this killer.”

      Sophie thought she heard genuine concern and regret in his voice, but she didn’t know him well enough to be sure. “I’ve seen pictures of him. He looks so normal. I wonder what he’s thinking now, locked up in his Boston jail cell. This has upset you, too, Percy. It would be weird if it didn’t.”

      “Of course it’s upset me.”

      She noticed Tim glowering at her. He wasn’t aware that Percy Carlisle had looked her up out of the blue a year ago. She glanced at her family. Her father looked as if he were about to make up a reason to come over to Percy’s table.

      Tim and his friends started to play again, jumping right into their own mad rendition of “Irish Rover.”

      “You should get back to enjoying the evening.” Percy withdrew his wallet and pulled out a few euros. “Stop by the house and meet Helen when you get back to Boston. We’ve hired a retired Boston police officer as our private security guard. I’ll make sure he knows to expect you. I never would have considered such a move, but after this summer…”

      “I understand,” Sophie said.

      He placed the euros on the table. “I know you do, Sophie. It’s good to see you.”

      As he made his way through the crowd, he didn’t seem to hear the music, and he left without a word to anyone. Sophie returned to her family. Her father frowned at her, but she picked up her Guinness and offered a toast, dodging his curiosity as they clapped and tapped their feet to the music. They finished their round of drinks and headed out together, Taryn blushing when Tim shouted out to her and blew them all a kiss. His friends hooted, diving into their next song.

      Out on the street, the evening air was cool and clear, perfect for the walk back through the village. Sophie asked her parents about their plans for the next month—anything, she thought, to keep the conversation away from her visit with Percy Carlisle and her impending return to Boston. By the time they crossed the stone bridge above the falls, stars sparkled in the night sky. Sophie lingered, listening to the flow of the water over the rocks, pushing back her analytical side and letting herself feel the presence of her ancestors.

      After a few moments, she and her sister and parents continued down the road to their house, situated on a hillside above an old stone wall and painted bright yellow. The interior was open and comfortable, decorated with colorful furnishings and art they’d all collected over the years. Sophie pleaded fatigue and an early start and bolted straight for the bedroom she and Taryn shared. It had twin beds, skylights and a small window with a view of the starlit bay. She undressed quickly and climbed into bed, fighting back tears at the prospect of leaving Ireland tomorrow.

      Taryn sat on the edge of the bed across from her. “Sophie, are you okay?”

      She pulled her duvet up to her chin. “Just a little distracted.”

      “There’s something going on with you. I know there is.” Taryn peeled off her scarf, the moonlight on her face as she studied her sister. “You haven’t been yourself for weeks. Months, really.”

      “Taryn…don’t go there. Please.”

      She kicked off her shoes. “Whatever’s bothering you has to do with what’s gone on in Boston, doesn’t it? I swear I can feel you being pulled in that direction.”

      Sophie rolled onto her back and stared up at the skylight. “That’s because you’ve had too much Guinness.”

      “Maybe.” Taryn leaned back onto her elbows and sighed. “Do you ever think about chucking your career and opening an Irish inn?”

      “And marrying an Irish fisherman who plays the fiddle?”

      They both laughed. “Oh, Sophie. What a couple of romantics we are under our tough-redhead exteriors.” But Taryn’s light tone didn’t last, and she sat up straight. “You’ll be careful in Boston, won’t you?”

      For no reason at all, Sophie thought of solid, scarred Scoop Wisdom as he’d watched her at Keira Sullivan’s ruin. Had the violence of the past summer started there, on the night of the summer solstice—or had it started a year ago, on a thimble of an island off the Iveragh Peninsula?

      “Sophie?”

      “Yes, Taryn,” she whispered. “I’ll be very careful.”

      5

      Beara Peninsula, Southwest Ireland

       N ights on the Beara Peninsula were quiet but also incredibly dark, and Josie Goodwin found herself restless, frustrated and decidedly annoyed with her lot. As much as she liked Keira and Lizzie and enjoyed their company, she hated being left behind, stuck in a cottage in the Irish hills while Will, Simon and Myles were off doing…well, whatever they were doing.

      She had few details. She’d learned early that morning that Myles was en route to Ireland and had alerted Will, who in turn had alerted Simon. In the month since Myles had again disappeared after helping to free Abigail Browning, he had continued to avoid communications with anyone in London. For the past two years, he’d sacrificed much to establish his cover as a rogue SAS officer and penetrate a deadly association between drug traffickers and a terrorist cell.

      His cover was so deep, so impenetrable, that no one—not even Will Davenport—had known what Myles was up to. Josie and Will had believed Myles had been dragged off in a firefight in Afghanistan and killed—and not heroically at that. Killed by his terrorist friends after he had betrayed his colleagues to them.

      But he hadn’t been killed, and he hadn’t betrayed anyone.

      Now it was time he had help.

      Josie resisted the temptation to pace. What she wanted to do was to return to London. But what could she do there?

      Nothing СКАЧАТЬ