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.”
“I know that, Colin. I got here alive, didn’t I?” She tightened her shawl-like sweater around her and sighed at the view. “What a great spot. It’s going to be a fantastic two weeks.” She turned to Emma. “Thanks for the welcome, but you and Colin can go on your way now.”
Emma could see that Julianne was rattled and tired from her long, unexpected drive from Shannon, on little sleep, and she was defensive around Colin. Probably should have left him at the hotel, Emma thought, then said gently, “We’re staying in the village. Just overnight. The O’Byrne House Hotel. It’s really lovely. I hope you’ll stop by before we leave.”
“Wait, what? You’re staying in Declan’s Cross?” Julianne’s dark hair blew in the wind, the last of her ponytail coming loose. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, ma’am,” Colin said, blunt as ever. “Get yourself settled. We can talk later.”
She stiffened visibly. “I’ll do exactly as I please.”
He turned to Emma. “That spa’s looking better and better.”
Julianne ignored him and headed up the walk to the bungalow. She tried the front door. It was unlocked, and she went in without so much as a backward glance.
Emma stood next to Colin by the little car. “You and Julianne go back a long way. I’ll go talk to her and let her know how to reach us. Why don’t you stay out here and count sheep?”
“I remember her bossing us around when she was six. She liked to carry around a bucket filled with seaweed and periwinkles.”
“Not afraid of her, are you?”
He grinned. “Terrified. I have to remember she’s almost finished with her master’s in marine biology. She’s always been smart. Andy is, too, but he never was a student. He dropped out of the only college that accepted him.”
“Is that why he and Julianne aren’t together anymore?”
“I haven’t asked. Won’t, either. He doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder.”
“Not that a Donovan ever would,” Emma said. “He does well as a lobsterman, and his boat-restoration business seems to be getting off the ground. Do you think he’s worried about keeping Julianne in Rock Point, somehow limiting her horizons?”
“I have no idea. They both do what they want. Always have.” His tone softened. “Go on. I’ll grab her suitcase. She won’t thank me for it. You watch.”
He seemed more amused and expectant than annoyed. Emma hoped Lindsey Hargreaves had left a note in the cottage to explain why she hadn’t met Julianne at the airport. That