The Whisper

'You think you're a destructress--that you'll gain power by creating chaos. You've intentionally adopted these beliefs to justify and rationalize your violence. Your understanding of early pagan Celtic rites and rituals is limited, as well as warped.'

'Don't you dare tell me what I know and don't know. Jay and Cliff underestimated me. They hid the treasure from the cave--my treasure--from me. They never thought I'd be the buyer. Then when I married Percy...' She stood up straighter, taller. 'When I became Mrs. Percy Carlisle, Jay understood.'

'Then he went after Keira--'

'And he was arrested for murder while my treasure was sitting in his vault.'

'You seduced Detective Acosta. You got Cliff to make sure he was assigned to security at the showroom.' Sophie's throat was dry, but she was focused on this woman. Helen was lost in her own reality. There was no reasoning with her. There was only delaying her. 'He brought you the treasure.'

'That's right. The cauldron you found is a source of rejuve-nation and abundance,' Helen said, the flames glowing in her eyes. 'I will use it to consolidate my power. I have no doubts, Sophie. I have absolute certainty. Look at me. Look at what I've done. I'm a Carlisle.'

'You want to be here,' Sophie said softly. 'You belong in this beautiful house. You love this life, Helen.'

'That's right. I will give up nothing.'

'If you go through with this, you'll give up Percy.'

'He is going through his own transformation. He will understand. He's under my control.'

Acosta passed out, sinking onto the brick courtyard.

He might have been one of her butchered squirrels for the look she gave him. 'For a long time, I was weak and powerless. No one noticed me. Then I changed. Now look at me. I'm Helen Carlisle. I'm Mrs. Percy Carlisle. I'm desired by warriors like Frank Acosta.'

'Cliff Rafferty wanted my opinion on what you were up to, didn't he? He was going to confess--'

'I'm the one who found his bomb-making materials and laid them out for his police friends.' She kept her gun pointed at Sophie. 'You could join me. Think of what you could become, Sophie.'

'Not in a million years. What about Percy, Helen? What have you done with your husband?'

32

Off the Iveragh Peninsula, Southwest Ireland

Josie recognized Percy Carlisle, unshaven, filthy, one hand cuffed to a bolt drilled into the rock wall of the cave. He'd been left with blankets, water, minimal food and modest portable toilet facilities--just enough for basic subsistence, an ordeal for anyone, never mind a man accustomed to the creature comforts as he was. But he was alive.

Traumatized and exhausted, the poor man couldn't speak. His graying hair was matted to his skull, his skin pasty beneath the mud. Together, Josie and Myles got him out of the cave.

Tim O'Donovan had called the guards. He looked shaken, stunned by this development. Josie welcomed the stiff, cold, wet wind as she sat atop a boulder. 'It wasn't you who left him here, was it, Tim?'

He seemed to take no offense at her question. 'No, and it wasn't Sophie, either.'

Myles saw to Carlisle, checking his vital signs, talking quietly with him. Finally Carlisle rallied a bit. 'I came out here to make my peace.'

'How did you know about the island, Percy?' Josie asked gently.

'Helen. Helen told me this was the island Sophie had explored. I remembered...' He paused, talking difficult for him. 'I'd told Helen about what I'd heard--that Sophie was chasing a story with an Irish fisherman. I was so afraid we both had been used by Jay Augustine.'

'Go on, mate,' Myles said.

'I came out here at dawn. A woman was already on the island.' Percy's voice was distant, hoarse. 'She wore a red cape and she had long red hair. I didn't get a good look at her face, but it wasn't Sophie.'

'No, it was your wife,' Josie said bluntly. Of course, she thought. Helen Carlisle hadn't gone straight back to the U.S. after all.

But she could see Percy had figured that out. 'I married first and then asked questions. I was stupid because such a woman took an interest in me.'

Josie had it on the tip of her tongue to tell him that everyone made mistakes in love, but that was absurd. Not everyone was left handcuffed to a cave on an uninhabited island off the coast of Ireland.

His wife wanted Carlisle money and power.

'She's a shape-shifter,' Percy said. 'Helen. I don't even know if that's her real name.'

33

Boston, Massachusetts

Sophie was talking about magical cauldrons when Scoop entered the courtyard, staying out of sight. 'You could use this cauldron for such good,' she said in a gentle, professorial tone. 'It could rejuvenate this house. It could replenish your energy and power. You deserve to live a life of plenty after all you've endured.'

She stood next to a large cast-iron pot on a fire, herb-scented steam rising from the boiling water. Scoop had a good view of her from the edge of a trellis covered in ivy. He had his weapon drawn. Josie had texted him that she, Fletcher and Tim O'Donovan had found Percy Carlisle alive on the island.

'I am using the cauldron for good,' Helen Carlisle said, just out of his sight behind a potted tree. 'Sacrifices must be made. You of all people must know that, Sophie. The gods demand it. I demand it.'

'Your cauldron, Helen? Those baubles you're wearing? Total fakes. That's no Tara brooch on your cloak. Not even close. All the pieces in your sacred wood here are garbage. Trust me. I'm the expert. I know.'

'You're lying,' Helen said, cool but clearly annoyed, agitated.

'I know you're not stupid or crazy. You believe what you're doing will get you what you want and deserve. You know exactly what will happen if the police catch you.'

She gave a throaty laugh. 'Oh, that's good, Sophie. Let me remind you that it's a police officer passed out at my feet. It's a police officer I'm going to sacrifice.'

'You tried and failed to kill him yesterday.'

Acosta, Scoop thought, edging closer to the cauldron. He could hear the water boiling. Acosta was out of sight, probably by the potted oak with the woman who was about to kill him. Sophie was obviously trying to save him, just as she had yesterday, this time by distracting his would-be killer. She touched her hair, one finger pointing very slightly in Scoop's direction. It was enough. She knew he was there.

'Yesterday wasn't a failure,' Helen said. 'It was an opportunity.'

'Fire, earth, water. I get that. He surprised you at the museum. What were you doing, drawing your own blood? Butchering a squirrel?'

'You think you're so smart, Sophie, don't you?'

'Come out and let me show you why your artifacts are fakes and you're a phony.'

'Frank's ready now,' Helen said. 'I don't want him to feel pain. I used a drug this time, but I know how to exhaust him in other ways. We'd have sex out here in the garden when Percy was away. We'd meet in the museum--right down the hall from where he almost died yesterday. He couldn't get over my energy, my passion. You've never had that experience with a man, have you, Sophie?'

Sophie didn't rise to the bait. 'Did Cliff know?'

Helen snorted. 'Oh, please. He wanted me, too. He thought about having me every waking moment. You wouldn't know, of course. You've never had a man completely intoxicated with you.'

'Who will you have after you've sacrificed Detective Acosta?'

'Whoever I want. I'll draw strength from Frank after he is dead. He's asleep for now.' She paused, adding casually, 'He'll wake up when I get him into the cauldron. You'll help me, Sophie. You have no choice.'