officer. 'Figured you two would show up,' he said, leaning against the edge of an empty rolltop oak desk. 'I came by after I heard about Augustine. Bastard did us a favor by dropping dead on his jail cell floor. He was never going to talk.'
'We'd like to take a look around,' Scoop said.
Acosta dropped onto a chair at the desk. 'Go right ahead. We're done here. Charlotte Augustine has an auction house lined up to sell off the inventory as soon as she's legally cleared to get rid of this place. It'll be easier now with her husband dead on his jail cell floor. Everything's packed up.' He glanced at Sophie with half-closed eyes. 'Take your time.'
She started to thank him, but Scoop stepped in front of her and pushed open the door to an adjoining room, holding it for her. She entered a long, narrow storeroom with deep shelves on one wall. The floor and shelves were stacked with neatly labeled crates and boxes, only a few pieces not packed up and ready to be moved out.
Scoop followed her down a row of crates. She ran her fingertips over one that came up to her waist. 'I'm telling you,' she said. 'Detective Acosta doesn't like you.'
'He doesn't like internal affairs.'
'Has he had run-ins with other internal affairs detectives or with you personally?'
'Sophie, I can't discuss--'
'Internal affairs deals with administrative issues that aren't necessarily criminal,' she said, moving down the row. 'Laziness, lying to superiors, sexual indiscretions, showing up drunk on the job. Any of those describe Detective Acosta? Did he cross a line that got him into trouble with his bosses but not the district attorney?'
Ignoring her questions, Scoop bent down for a closer look at a hip-high marble statue. 'He's not wearing any clothes.'
Sophie gave up but couldn't resist a smile. 'You can be very stubborn. That statue is a high-quality copy of the Greek god Apollo, by the way. It's marked as such, so there's no deception.'
He straightened. 'I don't think I'd want Apollo here in my dining room.'
She checked out more crates, noting labels and staying alert in case anything jumped out at her that could help her understand what 'Celtic pieces' the worker claimed to have seen and were now nowhere to be found.
'Tell me what you see, Sophie,' Scoop said, serious now.
'A lot of crates. It'd be helpful to find one labeled 'stolen Celtic artifacts,' wouldn't it?'
Acosta came up behind them. 'I can let you into the climate-controlled room where the kid who used to work here said he saw them.'
'That'd be great,' Sophie said as he hit buttons on an alarm panel.
'You must have brought an ill wind back from Ireland,' Acosta said, standing back from the door. 'Cliff dies. Now Augustine dies, not that anyone will miss him.'
Sophie felt Scoop stiffen next to her, but he made no comment as they entered the climate-controlled room. 'How did Cliff Rafferty end up working security here?' she asked. 'Did he request the assignment?'
'Take a look around, Dr. Malone,' Acosta said, ignoring her question. 'Tell us if you see anything.'
'Maybe he stole the missing artifacts himself. If he had a buyer in the wings--'
Acosta didn't let her finish. 'I'll wait outside.'
He withdrew, and Sophie frowned at Scoop. 'He doesn't like me, either. Do
'Probably.' Scoop's dark eyes settled on her. 'No freelancing, Sophie, remember?'
She smiled suddenly. 'I ask a lot of questions. It's the nature of what I do.'
'Same here. I understand, but you still need to watch yourself--for your own sake.'
She moved deeper into the small, windowless room, taking note of more boxes and crates of canvases, statues, porcelain and metalwork on shelves and leaned up against the walls. 'Are other pieces missing from the inventory, or just the Celtic artifacts the worker says he saw?'
'Just those.'
She looked up at an ornate clock set on a top shelf, then stepped back to the middle of the room. 'Anything Celtic is in high demand these days. It doesn't matter what era or country of origin. I don't see anything here that's obviously Celtic--Iron Age or otherwise--never mind resembles what I saw in the cave. I thought it might help to see what's here. I'm not sure it does.'
They returned to the reception area. Sophie thanked Acosta.
'Yeah, no problem,' he said, then grinned at her. 'Don't you have a job?'
'As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to see about tutoring my hockey players.'
'I'll meet you downstairs,' Scoop said.
She took the stairs instead of the elevator. When she reached the street, she called Tim O'Donovan in Ireland. After a quick hello, she said, 'When I met Percy Carlisle at the pub the other night, he had just come from Killarney National Park. Last year he was staying with friends there when he looked me up. I wonder if they might know where he is now.'
'You don't expect me to know everyone in Killarney, now, do you?'
'No, of course not.'
Maybe Percy was having an affair, Sophie thought, although she had no reason to think so and it struck her as ridiculous. He and Helen seemed happy together, with plans for the future. More likely, he was simply off enjoying himself--golfing, hiking, whatever--in an ultra-private setting and had no idea that his security guard was dead.
Sophie shook off her thoughts. 'I was hoping maybe you or one of your friends had seen Percy with these friends from Killarney.'
'Are they Irish?'
'I don't know. They'd be well off if they're Percy's friends.'
'I'll see what I can do, Sophie,' Tim said, his tone neutral. 'What are you up to?'
'Jay Augustine is dead--the serial killer.'
'That's not a bad thing.'
'Did you get the photo I e-mailed you of the police officer who died?'
'I did. I don't recognize him, either. I'll show him to the boys when I ask about the friends from Killarney. I'm no help. Sophie...'
She heard the worry in his voice and smiled into her phone. 'We'll be back to dancing an Irish jig and drinking Guinness before long.'
'Your new detective friend?'
'I don't know if he's much on dancing, but we can teach him.'
Tim didn't sound very reassured before they disconnected.
Scoop caught up with her at an intersection. 'Figured I'd give you a minute to finish your call. Family?'
'Tim O'Donovan.'
'The fisherman and fiddle player.' He stepped off the curb and flagged a passing cab. 'Have fun with your hockey players.'
'I doubt I'll actually start tutoring today. I'm just getting acquainted with everyone.'
He opened the cab door for her. 'Stay busy. Keep my number handy.'
She nodded, thanking him as she climbed in and sank against the seat. She was keyed up, and just as Scoop shut the door, she almost asked him to get in the cab with her--almost told him she didn't want to be alone. Instead she flashed him a quick smile. The man had enough on his mind without adding her to the equation.
Ten minutes later, the cab dropped her off at a squat, unattractive building near Boston University. The tutoring center was located on the first floor. She enjoyed working one-on-one with students, and she needed the income.
As she headed inside, Tim called her back. 'None of the boys recognized your cop,' he said, 'but they have an idea of who Percy Carlisle's friends in Killarney might be. They're in Kenmare often.'
'You have any names?'
'I do, indeed. David and Sarah Healy.'
He gave her what details he had on the Healys, and after he hung up, Sophie dialed Scoop's number. 'Are you back at work?' she asked him.
'Nope. I had this urge to make sure you got to your destination. I'm half a block behind you.'
