Declan's Cross

“Mostly an asset,” he said without hesitation.

She glanced sideways at him. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“Just trying to get you to admit that I already have provoked you.”

She sighed. “I’m not as hotheaded as you are.”

“You have doubts, Emma. You’re not sure you’re where you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m here with you.” She knew he meant the FBI and not him. “That’s good enough for me.”

“No argument from me. We’ll save the deep talk for another time. I may not know all your secrets, but I know you. I know you’re worried that being a Sharpe is getting in the way of your work.” He took her hand and drew her close. “Your fingers are cold.”

She was relieved he hadn’t pushed her for answers. “I left my gloves at the hotel.”

“We’ll have to keep each other warm, then.”

She smiled. “Sometimes we do think alike.”

* * *

A few minutes later, they came to a tan cinder-block bungalow in a small lot bordered on three sides by fields and more sheep. Emma stopped at a barbed-wire fence where four woolly ewes had gathered. They didn’t seem to mind the stiff breeze off the water, but it was colder than she expected, prompting her to pull up her jacket collar. “It’s a beautiful spot for Julianne’s stay,” she said, glancing at Colin. “If you decide you never want to leave Ireland after all, you could always take up sheep farming.”

He patted a ewe’s head. She bleated and pushed against his palm. He grinned. “I do have a way with women, don’t you think?”

“Very funny.”

“I don’t see myself taking up sheep farming in Ireland. Whale watches, maybe. Irish coastal waters are a sanctuary for whales, dolphins and porpoises.”

“Colin, you’re not serious, are you?”

His smoky gray eyes settled on her. “I’m kidding, Emma. I won’t be staying in Ireland forever. Whatever’s next for me is back home.”

“You won’t be going back with me on Friday. You need more time on your own here, without me.”

“It wasn’t a mistake for you to have come,” he said.

“I’m glad of that.”

He stood back from the sheep, the wind catching the ends of his dark hair. He hadn’t asked her to join him in Ireland. When he’d left without her, she’d understood that he’d believed some time on his own in Finian Bracken’s Irish cottage was a way for him to decompress after his months undercover, and at least to start the process of figuring out what came next for him. She’d followed him there because she’d wanted, simply, to be with him. If he’d asked her to go back to Boston, she’d have gone.

But he hadn’t asked her to leave. They’d taken long walks, laughed in pubs, made love on dark, rain-soaked nights. She’d relished every minute of being with him, but that didn’t mean she’d made the right decision in coming here. Leaving without him didn’t seem right, either, but she still was booked on a flight back to Boston on Friday.

The sheep about-faced and wandered back into the field. Emma turned from the fence and looked across the lane, past a stone wall and a strip of golden grass to a steep, rocky slope that angled down to the water, sparkling under a mix of clouds and sun. Not a boat was in sight.

“Do you know anything about this Sean Murphy?” Colin asked.

She shook her head. “Not really, no.”

It wasn’t a complete answer, and she suspected he knew it. The Murphy farmhouse was up through the fields behind the cottage, not as close to the water. She remembered it from her day trip four years ago. But she needed to pull her thoughts about Declan’s Cross together before she explained everything to Colin, not explain scattershot—not let herself feel pressured to tell him things about the theft and the investigation that she couldn’t tell him, shouldn’t tell him.

His approach would be simple and direct. He’d tell her he wanted to know whatever she knew. All of it. Now. No waiting, no thinking. It wasn’t a question of trust, he’d say, as much as a matter of being practical. He was a deep-cover federal agent. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle the facts of a serial art thief.

“It’s a beautiful view,” Emma said, taking in the gray-blue sea as it melted into the horizon. “Of course, you’re a former lobsterman and marine patrol officer. You probably don’t see what I see when you look out at the ocean.”

Colin moved back from the fence and stood next to her. “Julianne’s a marine biologist. She probably sees things neither of us would notice.”

“Do you want to wait for her?”

“We can at least catch our breath.”

Even as he spoke, a small red car appeared down the lane, inching toward the cottage. As it came closer, Emma recognized Julianne Maroney at the wheel and frowned at Colin. “I thought her friend was picking her up.”

“So did I.” He nodded toward the creeping car. “She’s not setting any land-speed records, is she?”

“First time driving in Ireland? Fresh off a plane? I wouldn’t be, either.”

The tiny Micra came to a crooked stop in front of the cottage. Julianne leaped out as if the front seat had caught fire. “I made it alive. Damn. A miracle if there ever was one.” She exhaled, placing a hand on her heart as if to steady her nerves, then focused on Emma and Colin. “What are you two doing here?”

“We thought we’d welcome you to Ireland,” Emma said.

“How did you know—” Julianne stopped, sighed. “Andy.” She glared at Colin. “He told you?”

Colin shrugged. “Emailed me after he talked to Ryan and then again last night.”

“Figures. No secrets in Rock Point.” She lowered her hand from her heart and gave an exaggerated shudder. “Jet lag, driving on the left, roundabouts, hedgerows—my heart was already in my throat. Then I get to this lane. Cliffs. No guardrails. No shoulder. It’s insane. What if I’d met another car?”

Emma smiled. “Looks as if you did just fine.”

“At least this place exists. I was starting to think I’d gotten all my wires crossed.” Julianne hunched her shoulders, rubbed her neck with one hand. “Ugh. I’m so stiff. I must have tensed every muscle in my body driving. I didn’t sleep much on the plane. It still feels like the middle of the night.”

“Get some sunlight in your eyes,” Colin said. “You’ll be fine.”

She bristled. “I know I’ll be fine.”

He glanced into her rented car. “What happened to your ride? Lindsey Hargreaves, right? She was picking you up in Shannon?”

“Yes, and I have no idea what happened to her.” Julianne sounded slightly less combative. “I have a terrible feeling she’s meeting me in Dublin instead of Shannon. I take it you haven’t seen her? She’s not here?”

Emma shook her head. “We only just got into Declan’s Cross ourselves.”

“I’ve called and texted her but nothing. I must have screwed up. Right now I just feel stupid more than anything else.”

“A little late to feel stupid,” Colin said.

Julianne scowled at him. “Always count on a Donovan to make you feel better.”

“You barely know this woman,” he said, obviously not about to let Julianne off the hook. “You have no idea if she’s reliable.”