Carla Neggers - Declan's Cross

Emma started out of the kitchen into the living room. “We’d love to have you join us at the hotel for lunch, dinner, a Father Bracken–approved whiskey—whatever you’re up for. It’s nice to see someone from home.”

“Thanks, Emma,” Julianne said, her tone warmer. “Right now I’ll be happy with a grilled cheese sandwich and a nap. Sorry if I’m being defensive. It’s good to see you guys. Really. I’ll stop at the field station later and find out if anyone there has heard from Lindsey.”

“Colin and I can pop in on our way back to the hotel,” Emma said. “We’ll let you know if she’s there or anyone there has heard from her. Enjoy your grilled cheese sandwich.”

Colin said only, “You know where to find us.”

“Yep. Thanks again.”

Emma could see it was time to leave and all but elbowed Colin back outside. The air had turned cooler, and the sky was overcast, no sun now, although with the short November days, dusk would be coming early. “It’s a cute place,” she said. “Finian never would have recommended it if he thought it wasn’t safe.”

“I guess.”

“Julianne’s like a little sister to you.”

“More like a thorn in my side.” Colin glanced back at the lonely bungalow. “I guess there’s no way I’m going to like leaving her up here by herself.”

“As you said, she knows where to find us.”

The ewes returned to the fence, baaing, crowding against each other. Colin grimaced. “The sheep can keep Julianne company.” He tucked his hand into Emma’s. “Let’s go check out this field station.”

5

JULIANNE LASTED IN the cottage for ten minutes before she had to get out into the Irish air. She couldn’t believe she was finally here. She tightened her sweater around her and walked across the lane to a stone wall. She could hear waves whooshing on the rocks far below her, and the sigh of the wind in the grass and hollows.

So beautiful, so peaceful.

She breathed deeply, releasing some of the tension that had built up since she’d strapped herself into her little rented car and hit the Irish roads.

The lane continued past the cottage, narrowing even more as it turned to dirt and disappeared around a bend. She noticed a man come around the bend, ambling toward her. He wore muddy work clothes and muddy dark green Wellies, as if he’d just come in from the fields. As he approached her, she saw he had thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes, something of a devil-may-care look about him. She guessed he was in his late thirties—Father Bracken’s age, maybe a little younger.

“You must be Julianne,” he said in a pronounced Irish accent. “I’m Sean Murphy, Fin Bracken’s friend. Welcome to Declan’s Cross.”

“Thank you. It’s great to meet you, Mr. Murphy.”

“Sean.”

She smiled. “The cottage is fantastic. I’m glad it worked out on such short notice.” The wind whipped her hair in her face as she stifled yet another yawn. “Father Bracken sends his best.”

“He’s been telling me tales of bean-hole suppers.”

Better than tales of attempted murder, Julianne supposed. “I never got a chance to ask him how you two know each other. He’s not from around here, is he?”

“He’s from Kerry, but he’s visited Declan’s Cross many times.” Sean glanced at her car, still parked crookedly on the side of the lane. “You drove yourself down from Shannon, did you?”

“I did. I’m a little wobbly, but I did okay. Necessity forced me out of my comfort zone. Lindsey Hargreaves was supposed to meet me, but—well, she didn’t, for whatever reason. Has she been in touch with you, by any chance?”

“No, she hasn’t,” the Irishman said. “She’s not here, then?”

“I don’t know if she’s in Declan’s Cross, but there’s no sign of her at the cottage. You know her, though, right?”

“We’ve met. A friend of mine has done some diving with her.” Sean glanced toward the sea a moment, then back at her. “Have you heard from Lindsey at all today?”

Julianne shook her head. “Not since Sunday afternoon. We emailed each other about plans to meet at the airport. She offered. I didn’t ask. I didn’t expect to hear from her again before I arrived this morning. My flight got in so early. I think my phone’s working okay—I’ll check my messages again when I go into the village. I gather there’s no cell service up here.”

“It’s spotty at best.”

“That’s fine with me.” She realized she sounded as if she didn’t want to talk to anyone back home, but it was just Andy she didn’t want to talk to. And her brother, since he’d ratted her out to Andy, who’d ratted her out to Colin. She pushed windblown hair out of her face and added, more cheerfully, “I’ll let you know if I hear from Lindsey. I’m sure I will.”

Sean studied her a moment, as if she wasn’t quite what he’d expected. “Fin says you’re a marine biologist. I see dolphins and porpoises now and again.” He nodded toward the water. “I saw a whale once.”

“Recently?”

He smiled. “I was a boy.”

Julianne didn’t know what she expected an Irish farmer to be like, but Sean Murphy wasn’t it. It was like having a mix of a young Liam Neeson and Colin Farrell up the lane. “I thought I’d get some fresh air while I can. They say sunlight can help jet lag. It’s in short supply right now, but it was sunny on the drive down here. I’d rather crawl in bed and sleep, anyway.”

“You’ll find it gets dark early this time of year.”

“Maine does, too, but Ireland’s even farther north. The Gulf Stream helps keep the climate mild here, but it doesn’t help with the short winter days.” She suddenly felt self-conscious, as if she’d already said too much. “I’m thrilled to be here, though.”

“You’ll have to come back in June when it stays light until late into the evening.”

She relaxed some. “That would be great. I start an internship in January in Cork that runs until May. I’d love to stay on a couple more weeks just to go sightseeing. Maybe I’ll get my grandmother to join me. She’s always wanted to see Ireland.”

“I noticed you had company earlier,” Sean said, checking a wooden fence post that was leaning to one side. “Friends of yours?”

Julianne nodded. “Colin Donovan and Emma Sharpe. They’re staying at a hotel in the village. The O’Byrne, I think they said.”

“It’s a good place.” He straightened some of the wrapped-wire fencing strung between the posts. “Donovan—Fin’s FBI friend?”

“That’s right.” She couldn’t tell if he also recognized Emma’s name. “He and Emma have been in Ireland a couple weeks. They borrowed Father Bracken’s cottage—I think it’s in County Kerry.”

“She’s with the FBI, too, as I recall.”

Julianne wasn’t that comfortable discussing Emma and Colin’s FBI status. “They’re not here on official business or anything like that. They just came to welcome me to Ireland.” She decided to change the subject. “Have you always lived in Declan’s Cross?”

He nodded to the bungalow. “I grew up right here. It’s been redone since then.”

“It must have been something, being a kid out here. The village lives up to the pictures I saw on the internet. Of course, my heart was in my throat when I drove through it just now, but I’m looking forward to exploring. I love to walk.”

“It’s a good place for walking. If you need anything, just find me. My uncle is up here most days, too. Paddy Murphy. Give either of us a shout anytime.”

Julianne found herself not wanting to be alone just yet. “Farming must be a ton of work,” she said.

Sean smiled, fine lines at the corners of his eyes. “Most things worth anything are a lot of work, don’t you think?”