Carla Neggers - The Whisper

"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."

"Yes, we have," the senior detective said as he stood up. He greeted Scoop. "I'm not staying. Time to pack up the lace from Keira's windows. My sister says she'll take them. I'm in the attic for the long haul. Keira called. She and Simon are renting a loft in Owen's new building on the waterfront. I guess Simon's getting assigned to Boston. Great, huh, Scoop? Another FBI agent to breathe down our necks."

He thumped up the stairs.

Scoop grinned. "That's Bob in a good mood." He took his friend's place at the bar. "How are you, Sophie? How's the job hunt?"

"All my years of school and I'd make a better living pouring Guinness. It'd be a great job--"

"But it's not what you're trained to do."

"It's tough out there even for the best."

"My sources tell me you are the best and you have great prospects. In fact, you yourself said you have a decent chance at a tenure-track position here in Boston."

"I'm crying in my beer?"

"Just a little. It's understandable given the past couple days. Being back here after so much time in Ireland would be enough of a transition by itself."

"You're very understanding, Cyrus Wisdom."

His eyebrows went up. "That's a first from anyone."

"You're not afraid you're losing your edge, are you?"

"Nope."

"Good, because I've seen you in action three times now, and I wouldn't want to run into you if I had ill intentions in mind."

He laughed softly. "'Ill intentions.' You crack me up, Dr. Malone. I'm just glad we got to Acosta before he drowned. He's not grateful. He still says he was just about to haul himself out of the water when we barged in."

"If that helps him get through this, then fine. I don't need credit. Except for whatever he ran afoul of you for, he's a good detective?"

"Not my judgment to make."

Which was all the answer she needed. "I wonder when Rafferty knew that he wasn't going to be a captain or the police commissioner or make detective."

"He would always say he didn't want to. He just wanted to get his full pension."

"And work as a security guard for the Carlisles? Do you believe that?"

"I think he wanted to retire in the sun."

"He faced that moment we all do when we decide to take action to turn the dream into reality. Work with the right people, put yourself out there, go for it, know that you might have to face rejection and disappointment and betrayal."

"Are we talking about Cliff or you?"

She suddenly was overwhelmed with emotion. "I'm going upstairs."

She moved fast, taking the stairs two at a time. She avoided even a glance at Jeremiah Rush in the lobby and was grateful she was alone on the elevator. Once she was in her room, she splashed cold water on her face and fought back tears.

There was a knock on the door. "Sophie--it's Scoop. You okay in there?"

She opened the door, forcing herself to smile. "Sorry. Come in. I've noticed I get walloped with jet lag right about this time of the evening. It's better every day."

"Not that the quiet homecoming you've had helps."

She held up a hand. "Don't talk. Let me explain." She led him into the room, the door shutting quietly behind him. She paced on the soft rug. "I've worked hard, and I've done well--no question. I'm grateful. It wasn't an easy path."

"There are no easy paths."

"I've encountered jealousy, envy, criticism, disappointment and broken promises along the way. Who hasn't? You do your best and in the end..." She turned back to him. "In the end you can't base your happiness on whether you achieved all your dreams. You enjoy the journey. You let go of the disappointments and betrayals."

"You weren't just on a lark last year."

She smiled. "Always the detective." Her smile faded. "I faced a dark night of the soul. Tell me, Scoop, isn't that what you were doing in Ireland?"

"It felt like I was facing a thousand dark nights of the soul."

Her breath caught. He wasn't a talkative, introspective man, but his words brought home just what he'd experienced only a few weeks ago. "You've been to hell and back, haven't you?"

"The key word is back." He brushed his knuckles along her jaw and eased his hand around the back of her neck, threading his fingers into her hair. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be right now, and if I had to go through hell to get here--well, then it was worth it."

He lowered his mouth to hers, slowly, as if giving her time to tell him to go back down to the bar and have a drink. She didn't. "You're why I knew I had to see the ruin on the Beara," she whispered. "I was pulled there. I knew I had to go. There was a rainbow that morning after we met. Scoop..."

"I can do a lot of things, sweetheart, but rainbows are above my pay grade."

She didn't have a chance to laugh before he kissed her, softly, tenderly, even as he lifted her into his arms and she could feel the tension in his muscles. She'd seen how he'd handled Acosta. She wasn't worried about him hurting himself with her. Clearly he wasn't, either. Their kiss deepened, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, sinking into him. He was aroused, hard against her. She could feel herself melting into him, hot and liquid.

He carried her to the bed and pulled back the covers. Her iPhone went flying. He laid her on her back. "I'm not very good with little buttons," he said, eyeing her blouse. "Either I rip it off or you--"

"It's an old top I found in Taryn's apartment."

He had it off in seconds, and then he took his time, touching her through the silky fabric of her bra, easing her pants over her hips with great care as he trailed kisses, his tongue, along her throat, then lower, tasting, lingering, sweetly torturing. She wasn't even aware he'd dispensed with her pants until she felt the sheets cool under her bare skin, his touch between her legs. She reached for him, traced his hardness with her fingertips. He thrust against her hand, a promise of what was to come.