it'd taken me to get to that point and how in debt I was, with no certainty I'd get the kind of job I wanted in the end.'
'All that cheerful stuff,' Scoop said.
'It all fell away on those trips. I was looking forward to finally getting my doctorate, but it was a transition. Going out to the island was just what I needed. A lark. No past, no future. Just the present.' She turned back to the fireplace. 'Tim had told me a story that'd been handed down by priests in a local village, about Celtic treasure hidden on an island. We figured out this could be the island described in the story. I never thought I'd find anything--neither did Tim. That wasn't the point.'
'When was your first trip out there?'
'Late August. I went four or five times. Tim would drop me off and come back after a few hours. This last time was in late September. I'd talked him into leaving me there overnight.'
'Did it take a lot of talking?' Scoop asked.
She gave him a small smile. 'As a matter of fact, yes. Tim thought I was completely daft. I was curious, I was having fun. I wanted to check out the center of the island. It's not difficult to get to--I just couldn't do it and get back to where Tim would pick me up in a few hours.'
Scoop settled back in his chair. 'Did you head there the minute you arrived on the island?'
She nodded. 'I wasn't the least bit concerned about staying out there on my own. I happened on a small cave almost right in the middle of the island. I wasn't even sure at first it was a cave.'
'It's not marked on a map?'
'No.' Sophie sat on the edge of the sectional, as if she knew she might jump back up and run out of there at any moment. 'It was a beautiful day. Clear, calm. By the time I discovered the cave it was getting late, but I figured I could camp there.'
'No worries at that moment, then,' Scoop said.
'None. I've investigated caves before. I set my pack on a ledge by the entrance and had a look inside. My flashlight hit on something. I got all excited. I was having fun, remember.' She paused and stared down at her hands, her fingers splayed in front of her, and Scoop knew she was back in that cave a year ago. 'I came upon what appeared to be a spun-bronze cauldron filled with pagan Celtic metalwork. Of course, I can't be sure what it was without further examination.'
'You didn't get that chance.'
'That's right.' She raised her gaze from her hands, then pushed to her feet, clearly restless. 'I was still examining the find when I heard a noise--what sounded like whispers. I turned off my flashlight and ducked a bit deeper into the cave until I could figure out what was going on.'
'These whispers.' Scoop kept his voice even, calm. 'Describe them.'
'I couldn't make out any words. It sounded as if whoever was out there was deliberately trying to scare me.'
'You're sure someone was there.'
'Yes, I'm sure. Whatever I heard wasn't the wind or the ocean.'
Scoop glanced out the window, the late-day sun hitting the pretty courtyard. When Jay Augustine had come upon Keira Sullivan in the ruin on the Beara Peninsula, he had whispered her name before trapping her inside.
'What happened next?' he asked quietly.
Sophie came and sat down across from him. 'I hid behind a boulder. I had a partial view of the entrance to the cave. There were...' She shut her eyes, inhaling through her nose. 'I saw branches--branches of a hawthorn tree--placed in the shape of an X at the entrance to the cave.'
'You could see that clearly?'
She opened her eyes again. 'It was still daylight. I wasn't that far away.'
'Any significance that it was a hawthorn tree?'
'Fairies are said to gather and dance under hawthorns. It's considered bad luck to cut one down.'
'Ah.'
'The branches had to have been brought in by boat. There are no trees--hawthorn or otherwise--on the island. It's mostly rock, with a few grassy spots.' She shifted her gaze back to the courtyard, her blue eyes wide now. 'The leaves of the branches had been soaked in what appeared to be blood.'
'Oh, good,' Scoop said.
She managed a smile. 'You knew that was coming. Tim wouldn't have left that out of whatever he told your British friends.' Her smile faded, her skin pale in the dim light. 'Whoever placed those branches knew I was there. I half rolled, half crawled deeper into the cave. I remember searching in the dark, feeling with my hands, for a loose rock I could use to defend myself.'
Scoop grimaced. 'Whispers. Bloody branches. Hiding for your life in a cave. I have to tell you, sweetheart, that'd do it for me.'
'It was rather terrifying, I have to say. I don't remember what happened next. I was hit on the head somehow.'
'Where on the head?'
'Right here.' She put her hand behind her right ear. 'I could have banged into a jutting rock, or someone could have hit me. I was knocked out--I don't know for how long.' She pointed to her wrist. 'I wasn't wearing a watch. When I regained consciousness, it was pitch dark. I didn't move. I swear I didn't breathe.'
'Were you afraid you'd been trapped in the cave?'
'Yes,' she said, her voice almost inaudible. 'I finally couldn't stand it and crept forward. I was dizzy, in pain, but when I felt the fresh air and heard the ocean...' She sat up straight, collecting herself. 'At least I knew there hadn't been a cave-in while I was unconscious. I wasn't trapped. The cauldron was gone. The branches were gone. I didn't hear more whispers...' She trailed off, as if she were back in that cave.
Scoop could understand why the Irish police hadn't done more to investigate.
'I was a mess,' she said, almost matter-of-fact. 'I figured my backpack was a lost cause. I'd heard it fall--or get shoved--off the ledge. I was left for dead, Scoop. I'm convinced of that.'
'I have no reason to argue with you.'
'I was hurt, dehydrated, shivering nonstop.' Her voice was even, steady. 'I had a concussion and mild hypothermia, but I was still coherent. I stayed in the cave, out of the wind. I knew Tim would come find me.'
'Weren't you afraid he was responsible--'
'No, never. Not for one second.'
She got up again, pulling clips out of her hair and shaking it loose, which was almost more than Scoop could stand watching. All that red. The freckles. The eyes. He let his gaze drift to her shape under her jeans and T-shirt, then stopped himself because he just wasn't going that far. At least not right then, anyway.
'Your fisherman friend found you?'
She nodded, more animated now. 'I heard him calling me. He was pretty frantic by then. I crawled out of the cave on my own, and Tim was standing on a ledge--he was scared to death, Scoop. He'd spotted my backpack. It looked as if it'd tipped over where I'd left it and fallen into a deep, wet crevice.'
Scoop rose next to her. 'Hell, Sophie.'
'Tim gave me water and his jacket. He had a small first-aid kit with him and did what he could for my scrapes and bruises. I told him everything. It sounded crazy, there in the morning sun, with birds circling overhead, waves crashing on the rocks. Tim obviously thought I'd hit my head crawling in the cave and hallucinated or dreamed everything else, but he called the guards.'
'There wasn't much they could do by the time they got out there,' Scoop said.
'That's right. They didn't find a drop of blood, a footprint, a witness, evidence of another boat.'
'Nothing to corroborate your story.'
She shoved both hands through her hair again, coming up with more pins that she set on the table. 'I'm sure that was the idea. If by some miracle I lived through the night, I'd have a crazy story to tell. If I didn't, I'd look as if I'd died of natural causes after a mishap.'
Scoop brushed a few strands of her wild hair out of her eyes. 'It took some effort and planning to get those bloody branches out to that island.'
'They could have been part of a ritual, or just designed to scare me. I suppose there's a chance the guards missed a bit of forensic evidence, but the island's not a hospitable place for tracking the stray eyelash or blood spot.
