Yarborough had been out to Jamaica Plain countless times as Abigail's partner, but Scoop couldn't see him planting the bomb. Too ambitious. Too by-the-book. If Yarborough had an axe to grind or was after some extra cash, he'd go all out--he wouldn't do one small job for a billionaire like Norman Estabrook.
Given the increasingly late hour in Ireland, Scoop texted Josie Goodwin instead of calling: Ask your friends about Percy Carlisle.
He didn't waste time typing more of an explanation. Josie would have no problem figuring out who Percy Carlisle was. Maybe she already knew.
As Scoop washed up, he got an answer from Ireland: Will do.
Obviously his new British friend wasn't sleeping, which didn't bode well for his own night. He returned to the bedroom and finally noticed the Whitcomb had a turndown service. The drapes were pulled, soft music was playing and chocolates were on his pillow.
Definitely better than Yarborough's sofa bed.
9
Sophie woke up to not so much as a coffee ground in the cupboards and decided she should have gone to the grocery last night instead of getting herself further under the suspicion of a Boston police officer. Never mind how sexy Scoop was, she thought as she headed through the archway and out to the street. She couldn't just blame jet lag for her reaction to him--she hadn't been jet-lagged on the Beara Peninsula.
The wee folk, then. She'd blame them.
She smiled, debating her immediate options. Breakfast on Charles Street and chance she'd run into Scoop?
'Hey, Sophie--Dr. Malone.' Cliff Rafferty got out of a car just up her quiet, narrow street and shut the door. 'I hope I didn't startle you. Mr. Carlisle--Percy--mentioned your sister has an apartment up here. It wasn't hard to get the address. You two look a lot alike.' He gave Sophie an easy grin as he tossed a cigarette onto the street and approached her. 'I looked her up on the Internet, too.'
Sophie relaxed slightly. She'd slipped into jeans and a dark green long-sleeve top, not bothering with a sweater. 'I'm borrowing her place until I figure out what comes next. What can I do for you, Mr. Rafferty?'
He looked up at a windowbox dripping with ivy on the town house behind them, then at her again. 'Like being back in Boston?'
'So far, so good. It hasn't been a full day yet.'
'Feels great being done with school, doesn't it? All those years of classes, papers, research, and now you finally have those initials after your name.'
He had an engaging manner, but Sophie assumed he'd looked her up for a reason beyond cheerful chitchat. 'It does feel great, but there are more classes, papers, and research ahead. If I'm lucky.'
'At least you'll be paid more as a professor than as a student.' He shoved his hands into the pockets of his lightweight jacket. He had on baggy jeans that were an inch too short and running shoes. 'You and Scoop Wisdom last night. That took me by surprise. I gather you didn't just meet on your flight back to Ireland yesterday.'
'Just about. I ran into him on the Beara Peninsula the day before.'
Rafferty's gaze was distant now, reminding her that he'd been a police officer. 'Scoop's quite the ladies' man. He seems taken with you.'
'I wouldn't know about that,' Sophie said, heat rushing to her cheeks.
'Bet you'll find out.' Rafferty winked at her unexpectedly, then withdrew a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. 'I need to talk to you. Not here. My place. I wrote down the address. Give me an hour.'
Sophie folded up the paper. 'I haven't had breakfast. Why don't we go for coffee? You can talk to me now.'
'Nah. You come to me.'
'What's this all about?'
'You're an expert in Celtic archaeology,' he said. 'I have something I want to show you. Get your opinion.'
'Is it Celtic?'
'I don't know. If I knew...' He didn't finish, looking awkward now, even defensive. 'I was a cop for thirty years. I might not have played things as straight and narrow as Scoop Wisdom would want, but I never hurt anyone.'
'Can I bring someone with me?'
'Yeah, why not? Go find Scoop and ask him if he wants to go with you. See how far you get.' He grinned at her, then raised his thin shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. 'Show up or don't. Your call. Just make it this morning. I'm working this afternoon.'
He walked back to his car, got in and waved as he drove past her on the one-way street. Sophie watched him, trying to make sense of their conversation. Did he want to talk to her about stolen Celtic artifacts? His last assignment as a police officer had been working security at the Augustine showroom after Jay Augustine's arrest. He'd gone right from there to his job with the Carlisles.
Sophie headed back down the steps and through the gate and the archway into the secluded courtyard, dialing Taryn's number on her iPhone. Taryn picked up on the second ring, just as Sophie unlocked the apartment door. 'Hey, Taryn,' she said, 'where's your car?'
'It's probably on Anderson or Myrtle, but it could be anywhere. I have a friend who moves it every ten days. Sophie, what's going on? You sound out of breath.'
'That's because I'm walking fast.'
'All right.' Taryn didn't sound reassured. 'I'm on my way back to London. If you need me, I'll be there.'
'Thanks. What color's your car? I can't remember.'
'Dark blue. It's a Mini--'
'That I remember,' Sophie said with a smile, trying to sound less agitated. 'All's well, Taryn. I'll be in touch.'
Sophie disconnected and grabbed Taryn's car keys out of a drawer in the kitchen, then ducked back out to the street. She located the Mini in front of a small market on the next block. She still had time before meeting Rafferty and walked down to Cambridge Street--deliberately avoiding Charles Street and the Whitcomb Hotel--and got a coffee and a bagel. She ate the bagel on her way back up Beacon Hill and sipped her coffee as she unlocked the Mini and slid behind the wheel. It started right up.
Luckily she'd already set her coffee in the holder when Scoop Wisdom materialized by the passenger door. She hit a button to automatically roll down the window. 'Good morning,' she said. 'Are you looking for me?'
'Uh-huh. Where are you off to?'
She didn't want to tell him, but she didn't want to lie, either. 'Cliff Rafferty asked me to stop by his place.'
Scoop opened the passenger door and got inside. 'Talk.'
'I don't want to be late.'
'Then drive and talk. Or I'll drive and you can talk.'
'It's my sister's car.' Sophie noticed how close he was in the seat next to her. He had on a dark tan windbreaker, khakis and a chocolate-colored shirt that made his eyes seem deeper, richer. 'Do you know where Rafferty lives?'
Scoop shook his head. 'No.'
She handed him the address. 'I think I can figure out how to get there, but since you're a police officer--'
'I know the street.'
She smiled. 'Thought you might.'
As she drove slowly down to Cambridge Street, Sophie told him about Rafferty's visit.
'You don't know what he has in mind,' Scoop said.
'Neither do you. If he'd meant me any harm, he could have run me over going for coffee.'
Scoop frowned at her, then shook his head. 'I guess you can't be a shrinking violet digging up old bones.'
