Page 77 of Offside Bride

Siobhan snorts. “It’s not every day you find out your dad’s involved in cyber espionage when you thought he was just really good at Excel."

“Can you solve it?” I ask, hopeful.

Siobhan groans in frustration, pushing away from the laptop. “This is going to take forever without the key. It’s like trying to open a safe with a banana.”

Sawyer’s still pacing, his brow furrowed. “High-tech espionage! I always thought his idea of ‘coding’ was writing down the TV remote instructions.”

“What about the other clues?” I ask lamely. “The etchings on that bracelet.”

“Oh, I already figured that one out,” says Siobhan. “All it says is ‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling.’”

“That’s weird. Is that your dad’s favorite song or something?” I ask. “Or a lullaby he used to sing to put you to sleep?”

“Not that I know of,” she says thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sing.”

I whip out my phone, fingers flying over the screen as I pull up the lyrics to “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.” Clearing my throat dramatically, I begin to recite:

“When Irish eyes are smilin’, sure it’s like the morn’ in spring,” I start, my best attempt at an Irish accent falling flat. “In the lilt of Irish laughter, you can hear the angels sing…”

Siobhan’s looking at me like she just wants me to stop before Bing Crosby rolls over in his grave. But I’m committed to it now, so I continue on. “When Irish hearts are happy, All the world seems bright and gay. And when Irish eyes are smilin’…” My voice trails off as I reach the last line. “Sure they steal your heart away.”

Sawyer lets out a humorless laugh.

“Steal your heart away,” he mutters, shaking his head. “How ironic. Dad’s been stealing plenty, but hearts? That’s a new one.”

Suddenly, Siobhan gasps like she’s just remembered she left the stove on. “My heart!” she exclaims, bolting from the room.

Sawyer and I exchange confused glances, wondering if the stress has finally caught up to her. My own heart pounds with alarm. Is she having a heart attack? Or is it more like an ex-boyfriend broke her heart and she just can’t handle it anymore?

I don’t know if I should start looking for aspirin or ice cream. But before we can call for a wellness check, she’s back, clutching something in her hand.

It’s a stunning Waterford Crystal heart pendant necklace. The light catches it, sending little rainbows dancing across the walls. Inside the crystal heart is another smaller heart, making it look like some sort of beautiful, sparkly Russian nesting doll situation. It’s the kind of necklace that would make even the most jaded jewelry thief drool.

“Dad gave this to me a month before he went to prison,” Siobhan explains.

And it hits me like a ton of bricks. “Is it stolen?” I ask. “Is that what the Italians want?”

Sawyer’s eyes narrow, his gaze hardening like he’s facing off against a rival team. “Break it,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Break it?” Siobhan says horrified. “It’s Waterford Crystal, not a ceramic leprechaun.”

Sawyer steps closer to her and levels her with a hard glower. “Break. It.”

Siobhan squeaks a whimpering cry and squeezes her eyes shut. Then she throws the necklace on the floor with all her might, shattering it into a beautiful, sparkly mess.

Sawyer picks up a shard of the shattered crystal heart, his fingers delicately tracing the crack in the inner heart. With surgical precision, he extracts a tiny slip of paper from within.

My curiosity is piqued, but I’m also wondering if we’ve stumbled into some sort of Leo DiCaprioInceptionsituation. At this point, I half expect the paper to self-destruct in five seconds.

Sawyer hands the paper to Siobhan, who takes one look at it and groans, “Oh for crying out loud!”

“It’s another code within a code,” Sawyer says.

I snort. “The man sure likes his secret codes. What, was he a teenage girl passing notes in class in a previous life?”

Siobhan suddenly springs into action, frantically searching the disaster zone that was once her dining table. She starts shoving papers aside, lifting books, and peering under empty coffee mugs. I’m pretty sure I see a rubber band go sailing across the room.

“Pen, pen. I need a pen,” she mutters urgently.

---