O'Donovan shrugged. 'We didn't go out of our way to tell anyone, but we weren't secretive, either.'
'Were you always the one to take Sophie on her expeditions?' Josie asked.
'She tried to go on her own once and almost drowned. She's not good with boats. Everything else.' His expression was warm as he added, 'She and her sister both.'
'Carlisle could be a killer,' Josie said crisply, 'or he could have hired a killer, or he could be a victim or a potential victim. We need to know what he knows. The guards are looking for him.'
'So I've heard.'
Josie bit back her frustration. 'Tell us all you can about Sophie, won't you? Did you ever get the feeling there was anything between her and Percy? Animosity, love, friendship? Anything at all? Was she jealous of the woman he ended up marrying? Was Sophie broke and looking to Percy for money--did she ask him for a loan, a job, a recommendation?'
'You fired off all those questions at once deliberately, didn't you?' O'Donovan was obviously no one's fool. 'Here's my answer to you. I trust Sophie. She's the best. She loves her work, and she's honest.'
'What about her relationships in Ireland?' Josie asked.
'Men, you mean? She saw a few academics from time to time, but nothing ever worked out.'
'You two?'
His eyes were unchanged. 'Friends.'
'What about her family? They have a house here--'
'Friends, also.'
'Ah.' Josie saw the look in his eyes. 'What about you and Taryn, the sister--'
'You're going too far now.'
'Indeed,' she said.
Myles stood up. Obviously he'd heard enough. 'We want to see the island for ourselves. Can you take us?'
'Tomorrow. Bring a warm jacket, and fair warning--it'll be choppy.'
'Splendid,' Josie muttered without enthusiasm.
The Irishman headed to the bar and joined a group of men--other fishermen from the looks of them--who'd just come in. Josie debated interrogating them, too, but Myles slung an arm around her and grinned. 'Looks as if we'll be bouncing in waves tomorrow.'
'I hate boats.'
'We'll be fine.'
She shuddered at the prospect. 'You're sure we won't turn over?'
'Positive.'
'Liar. You spent time on Norman Estabrook's luxurious yacht, not on what Tim O'Donovan calls a boat.'
'You don't trust me, love?'
'I don't know you well enough anymore to know whether or not to trust you. Despite last night, I remain wary.'
She felt hot suddenly, thinking about their lovemaking. She wasn't embarrassed so much as mystified. They'd behaved as if they were completely and utterly in love, muttering sweet things, holding each other in the dark. It'd been a long time for both of them. Perhaps they'd simply needed to make love and be done with it in order to get on with their lives.
She was aware of Myles watching her and felt quite confident his thoughts weren't remotely similar to hers. She dismissed last night and nodded to O'Donovan, who was serious, not laughing as he sat with a pint. 'You know our new Irish friend is reporting everything back to Sophie, don't you?'
'Of course he is.'
27
Sophie locked the door to her hotel room and flopped onto her bed, lying against the pillows and staring at the moldings along the edge of the ceiling. She had met her hockey-player students. By no means was every player on the team in need of tutoring, but she looked forward to working with them. One had guessed she'd had an eventful morning and another had heard that she'd found Cliff Rafferty; they all agreed that should she need them for anything, she had only to say the word. They'd be there.
As she walked back to Charles Street, she'd heard from Tim and had reassured him that telling the Brits everything wasn't just fine but also smart. She wished he could be left out of the investigation entirely, but it was too late for that.
Meanwhile, her brother was again threatening to come up to Boston. Sophie sat up on the bed cross-legged, texting him to ask if there was anything he could do on his end to help find Percy Carlisle.
Damian's answer was immediate: Stay out of it.
She texted him back: Helen came back early. To NYC. Maybe he's in NYC?
This time he called instead of texting her. 'I thought you were tutoring.'
'I was. It was just a meet-and-greet. The guys are great. They can see through BS a lot quicker than I can. I always see nuances and shades of gray, complications and pitfalls. Sometimes I want to live in a black-and-white, win-lose world.'
'Yeah. I know the feeling, Sophie. We could be Taryn, raked over the coals if she sneezes on stage. Get yourself some hockey tickets and go enjoy yourself. Line up those job interviews. Stay focused on what's good for you.'
'Who are you advising--me or yourself?'
He laughed. 'Both of us.'
'Damian, based on your experience and what you might know but can't tell me--which I don't assume is very much--do you believe Percy is alive?'
'I hope so, Sophie. This morning had to be rough on you.'
'I did what anyone else would have done. If Percy's involved--'
'It's not your problem. You can come here to D.C. Just head to the airport right now and get on a plane. I have an extra room.'
'You let that dog of yours sleep on the bed, don't you?'
'It's not a question of 'let,'' he said. 'Take care of yourself.'
After they disconnected, Sophie headed down to Morrigan's. Fiona O'Reilly had arrived with several friends, her father on a stool at the bar, watching his daughter as if he couldn't quite shake the notion that something else might happen to her--that she wasn't safe and never would be again.
Sophie climbed onto a stool next to him. O'Reilly sighed at her. 'Your parents are smart. Go hiking and leave the kids on their own.'
'We're adults. Taryn, Damian and me. We're not teenagers, and we weren't almost killed in a bomb blast.'
'This morning--'
'I was never in danger.'
'You didn't know who was in the tub. Could have been someone faking being drowned, waiting for you to rush in and save him. He could have nailed you, and we'd have been drawing a chalk line around your body instead of talking to you about human sacrifice.'
She ordered a Guinness. 'What a way to think.'
'I'm just saying. And trust me--your folks remember when you and your brother and sister were drooling little babies.' He looked toward the stairs, and Sophie turned and saw Scoop heading into the bar. When she turned back to O'Reilly, he shook his head. 'I don't know what happened to him in Ireland. He's still mean as hell, but he likes you.'
'Lieutenant...'
He didn't back off. 'He likes you a lot.'
'You've all had a difficult few months.'
