The Whisper

She nodded.

'What about the break-in at the museum? How did that affect your relationship with the Carlisles?'

'I had nothing to do with it, and it was a long time ago--'

'Not that long.'

She sighed. 'Both Carlisles were uncomfortable around me after that.'

'Did they ever consider you a suspect?'

'No, and neither did the police.' Her voice was calm. 'There were rumors--never mind. Rumors don't matter now.'

'Maybe they do.'

'Police officers dig into people's most private areas, don't they?'

'Just doing a job. What rumors?'

'That Percy Sr. was in on the break-in.'

'Motive?'

'He could sell the Homer to a discreet, rich friend and collect insurance on it at the same time. There were rumors he needed cash, but I don't believe that so much--I don't believe he was involved at all, but if he had been, it would be because he liked the risk and he was getting back at someone. He was very...' She paused, obviously searching for the right word. 'He could be very rigid and unforgiving.'

'What was his wife like?'

'Quiet, cerebral. The museum was her creation.'

'Married to it and her work there. So we had the near disaster and scandal over the smuggling in Ireland and the firings, the break-in and the heist in Boston. Now you're an expert in the field Percy Sr. thought of himself as an expert in. You know all this stuff, and Percy Jr. knows you know.'

'That's why I was surprised when he looked me up a year ago.'

'And your brain didn't go ding-ding-ding after the island experience?'

'No.'

'Did you tell the Irish police about Percy?'

'It didn't even occur to me. I can't even say he was still in Ireland at the time. I doubt it.'

'Not the type to chase after you to a remote, rockbound island?'

'Definitely not the type.'

'Why did he come see you in Kenmare? Go through that conversation with me again.'

She debated, then nodded. 'Have a seat.'

He listened without interruption while she talked. He wasn't a lot of things, but he was a damn good listener. And he liked hearing her talk. She was curious, analytical and interested as well as interesting--and it didn't take long for him to figure out that she hadn't been waiting for Percy Carlisle to sweep her off her feet. Or any man, for that matter. Sophie Malone, Ph.D., was very much her own person.

She'd just finished when she got a text message. She glanced at her iPhone, then smiled, her blue eyes sparking with obvious pleasure. 'Taryn's here,' she said as her fingers flew, texting her back. 'You get to meet my twin sister. She's right outside.'

Sophie leaped up and buzzed her in, and thirty seconds later, Taryn Malone was surveying Scoop with eyes as blue and incisive as her sister's. But she spoke directly to Sophie. 'I'm only blowing in here to say hello, then I'm on my way to New York. I'll be there for two days. Then it's back to London. How are you? And who is this?'

'This is the detective I told you about,' Sophie said, and made the introductions.

Taryn beamed a smile at him. 'So good to meet you, Detective Wisdom.'

'I'll go for a walk and let you two visit,' he said, looking at Sophie. 'Then I'm coming back.'

22

Taryn gulped in a breath after Scoop left. Sophie held up a hand before her sister could say a word. 'I know. What am I doing? I should take Damian's advice and go back to Ireland and dig in the dirt.'

'No argument from me,' Taryn said, stretching out on the sectional. 'I didn't let Damian know I was coming here. I knew he'd tell me not to. Sophie, are you in trouble with the police?'

She shook her head. 'I can't be. I've told them everything and I haven't done anything wrong.'

'Please don't stay here alone.'

'I'm not. I'm staying at the Whitcomb.'

'Good. Unless--wait. Is this detective staying there, too?'

'For now.'

Taryn moaned as if she were in pain. 'I suppose there isn't a Malone born who does things the easy way. All right, then. If you're not in trouble with the cops--if they don't suspect you of wrongdoing--then let them help.'

'Cliff Rafferty was a police officer, Taryn. Scoop's a detective. He can't turn that off even for half a second.'

'Why would you want him to? Never mind. Scratch that. Dumb question now that I've seen him.' She rose suddenly, a bundle of nervous energy. 'Look, I'd stay if I could, but I have this crazy thing called a living to make. You could come to New York with me.'

'Thanks, but I can't. I have commitments here.'

'I know. I understand.' Taryn dashed into the bedroom, yanked open the closet and pulled out a pair of black heels, tucking them under one arm as she returned to the living room. 'I didn't think I'd need these. I hope I don't break an ankle. Oh, Sophie. You'll stay safe, won't you? You and I are so different and yet so similar. Do you miss Ireland?'

'Yes, but I'll go back. Taryn--'

'Don't go there,' she said, as if she were reading her sister's mind. 'I won't ask Tim to give up his life, and he won't ask me to give up mine.'

Sophie leaned against the door jamb. 'What would you say if he did ask?'

'He and I are both hopeless romantics. That's what attracted me to him in the first place, but I have to be practical.'

'Tim's a romantic?'

Taryn blushed and quickly led the way back out to the street. She had asked her cab to wait. It was just like her to make a separate stop in Boston for something she could easily pick up in New York, but that wasn't, Sophie knew, really why her sister was there. 'Damian's worried,' Taryn said in a half whisper. 'I'm worried. I want to trust this detective, but what do you know about him? What if he's playing everyone? What if he's actually the one who planted the bomb?'

'He was almost killed--'

'Yeah, but he wasn't killed, and what a way to fool everyone. You must trust him or you wouldn't be alone with him.' Taryn straightened abruptly, her hand on the open cab door. 'Sophie! Are you falling for him? No, don't answer. It's the adrenaline. You bonded during a crisis.'

'It started on the Beara Peninsula,' Sophie admitted.

'Ah. Fairies, then. He's a total stud, I know--I have eyes--but...' Taryn didn't finish. 'Just be careful, okay?'

'I will. Thanks for stopping by. Have fun in New York.'

'Yes.' She smiled, betraying a rare hint of uncertainty. 'I'm not sure it's what I want.'

'Maybe going there will help you figure that out.'

'I can't afford to be a romantic about making a living...' Taryn brushed off her uncertainty. 'Listen to me. You're dealing with a real crisis. I'm just in angst mode.'

'I'm here anytime. You know that. If you want to talk about acting and a certain Irish fisherman--'

'Oh, stop. You saw that awful beard. Tim O'Donovan's not the man for me.'

Sophie laughed. 'He can quote Yeats by heart.'

'So can Damian, and can you imagine ending up with him?'

That made them both laugh, just as Scoop returned, easing toward the gate back to the courtyard. Taryn glared at him. 'Be good to my sister,' she said, and quickly ducked into the cab, shut the door and waved goodbye.