Declan's Cross. Carla NeggersЧитать онлайн книгу.
fun of you.”
As a biologist, she specialized in marine mammal research. Andy wasn’t a student. He could be defensive, or maybe she just thought he could be defensive—it didn’t matter anymore, did it? She sighed, kept her tone neutral as she said, “That’s good.”
He drove with one hand on the wheel, as confident in Boston traffic as he was in his boat on the Atlantic. “How do you know this Lindsey woman is for real?”
Julianne felt herself bristle. “What do you mean, ‘for real’? I met her. I drove her around the area when she was up here for the day. We’ve stayed in touch by email since then.”
“I mean do we know she is who she says she is?”
“What, you think I should have taken fingerprints off her water glass and had one of your law enforcement brothers run them?”
He frowned at her. “Why are you so defensive?”
“Why are you grilling me? Am I not allowed to make new friends?”
“I’m not grilling you, and you can have all the friends you want. I’m just making conversation.”
“You’re grilling me, Andy,” she said, waving a hand. “Never mind. I’m not letting you get to me. I appreciate the ride to the airport.
“You can afford to go to Ireland now and again in January?”
“I guess I can since that’s what I’m doing,” she said, struggling now not to pop off at him. Half the problem was being so close to him again, next to him in his truck. She hadn’t touched him since she’d helped save his damn life in late October. Before that...
She sighed again. Best not to think about their hot, mad weeks together.
She could see the muscles in his hand tighten as he gripped the wheel. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Emma and Colin happen to be away, in Ireland, and then this Lindsey woman shows up in Rock Point, saying a friend told her about Fin Bracken?”
“You think Lindsey invited me to Declan’s Cross because of Emma and Colin? That makes no sense, Andy. They’re not marine scientists. You’ve been around your law enforcement father and brothers too much. That’s just so paranoid.”
“Just be careful,” he said.
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be fine.”
“That’s you, isn’t it, Jules? Self-sufficient to a fault.”
She didn’t answer and stared out her window as they entered the tunnel that would take them to Logan Airport. She couldn’t remember which one it was. It was Callahan going one way and Sumner the other way, and there was the Ted Williams tunnel, too. She couldn’t keep them straight, but she’d never been big on Boston. Give her a stretch of rocky Maine coast any day.
She noticed a sign for the airport and pointed. “Right lane.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
She heard the irritation in Andy’s voice, as if he’d been chewing on what bugged him about her. “Just trying to help,” she said, unclenching her teeth.
He downshifted. “I know.”
“You were annoyed—”
“No, I wasn’t. Quit trying to read into things. When I’m annoyed, I’ll say so.”
“Like now?”
“Not annoyed, Jules.”
He didn’t sound that annoyed, she realized. More resigned than anything. Fatalistic. As if he knew he couldn’t say anything right and should give up trying. But what difference did it make whether he was resigned, frustrated or just plain irritated with her? In another few minutes, they’d be going their separate ways. She’d be dragging Granny’s purple suitcase to the Aer Lingus counter and on to Ireland. He’d be turning around and driving back to Rock Point.
He pulled in front of the terminal. Julianne pushed open her door, jumped out and reached in back for her bag. “Thanks for the ride. I hope you get back to work full-time without a hitch.”
“Appreciate that. Have a good trip. Call me if you need anything.”
“Right. I will. Thanks again.”
She shut the door and carried her suitcase and tote bag into the airport, past travelers with sleek wheeled black bags. She really did need her own suitcase. Granny said she liked the idea of her suitcase going to Ireland even if she couldn’t.
As far as Julianne knew, Andy hadn’t taken up with another woman since their falling out. That was a long time for him. But, clearly, he was back on his feet after the attack on him. He had to be restless.
She felt herself tense. There was no question in her mind that Andy would have another woman on his arm before she was back in Rock Point in two weeks.
She saw the emerald-green of the Aer Lingus sign and forced a smile.
Never mind two weeks. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had another woman before she landed in Shannon, Ireland.
* * *
Julianne figured she slept all of seven minutes on the plane, not because it was a bad flight or she was afraid of flying or nervous about Ireland, but because she was so excited. She refused to think about Andy—at least she more or less refused—and focused on the thrill of her first transatlantic flight.
She loved the green of Ireland, even in November, as the big plane landed in Shannon. She’d already changed her watch to Irish time, five hours ahead of Boston. Mentally, she told herself it was 6:00 a.m. and not 1:00 a.m.
Getting through customs was a breeze. She picked up her suitcase at baggage claim and carried it out to the main lobby, where Lindsey had indicated she’d be waiting.
No Lindsey.
Julianne checked the ladies’ room, the coffee shop and the books-and-sundries shop, but didn’t find her new friend. Shannon Airport wasn’t Logan. There weren’t many places Lindsey could be.
Maybe she couldn’t find a parking space or was running late.
Her tote bag hoisted on one shoulder and her suitcase on the other, Julianne went through the sliding glass doors, welcoming the rush of the chilly early Irish morning. She set her suitcase on the sidewalk, plopped her tote bag on top of it and stretched her arms up over her head, her muscles stiff after six hours on a plane. She wasn’t hungry, but she wanted coffee, badly.
The airport parking lot didn’t look crowded. Lindsey couldn’t have had trouble finding a parking space. Other travelers left the terminal, passing Julianne as they headed for the car rental lot or were picked up by family and friends. Airport workers went about their business.
Julianne dug out her phone. No new emails, texts or voice mails from Lindsey. What if Lindsey had gotten mixed up and was meeting her at the Dublin airport?
“What to do, what to do,” Julianne muttered, then decided to send a short text message.
After a few minutes without a response, she dialed Lindsey’s number and got her voice mail but disconnected without leaving a message. Somehow they had gotten their wires crossed.
Fuzzy-headed after the long flight, Julianne carried her suitcase and tote bag back into the terminal and bought herself a latte and scone at a small, uncrowded coffee shop. Most of the people from her flight had departed. The lobby was dead. She checked her email messages on her phone and found the one from Lindsey confirming the pickup: I’ll meet you in the lobby. We’ll stop for a full Irish breakfast and be in Declan’s Cross for lunch. Can’t wait to see you! xo Lindsey
Straightforward enough. Julianne double-checked to make sure she had given Lindsey the correct date, and she had.
She slathered her scone with butter and jam. The only thing to do at this point was to get herself to Declan’s