Page 62 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

“The people who sprayedsluton the front door might argue that.” She shook out the sweater. “You know… Until this week, no one had ever called me that word. I was the daughter of a slut. And that stung. Boy, did it ever. It’s a really horrible thing to say to someone, Jamie.”

“The worst. Here, let me help you.”

She took over and dressed herself as he hovered. Then he led her back to his bedroom and found his clothes. He eyed the bed. Only an hour before, they had finally fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

“Sophie.”

Her head turned, her eyes still foggy.

“This was the best night of my life. I won’t let them ruin that.”

She shook herself. “Neither will I. Let’s make some tea.”

“You’re becoming more Irish by the minute. We should probably make enough for the others.” It was going to be a long night, he imagined.

They were just pouring water over the teabags when he heard the first car arrive. Someone knocked, and Jamie realized he’d locked the door when he’d come inside as a precaution. Opening it, he faced his brother.

“I’m glad you had me called.” He wrapped him in a hug. “What a horrible thing.”

“The worst.” He watched as another car turned into his driveway. “I probably should have guessed you and Bets and Linc would arrive before the Garda.”

Carrick clapped him on the back. “Maybe they’re searching for their notebooks so they can take extra-detailed notes.”

He wanted to laugh but didn’t have it in him.

“Shut the door, Jamie,” Linc called as he and Bets walked toward them.

Even through the wood, he could hear Linc’s Gaelic exclamation. “You’re cursing in Gaelic?” he asked as they opened the door.

“When all this started, I asked Donal to teach me one.” Linc’s round face was pronounced with worry lines, the same as Bets. “I thought mixing it up would be good.”

“Maybe you can teach it to me,” Sophie said, coming out of the kitchen with a tray of tea.

“How are you holding up?” Linc asked, his jaw tight. “That’s some nasty business on the door.”

“I won’t lie,” she said, setting the tray down carefully. “My knees are still knocking a little.”

Bets marched forward and stopped next to her. “Those sons of bitches. Sophie, I’m so sorry. I have no idea what to say except that we’re going to stop this.”

Jamie wasn’t so sure anyone could promise that. He turned as another car sounded in the driveway. “At last.”

Only it wasn’t the Garda. It was his friends from Summercrest.

“You called them?” he asked Carrick.

“Of course. They’re our friends. Kade is coming too.”

“So is Donal,” Linc added. “I told Eoghan to stay with Sandrine and Greta. Part of me wants to take them to Bets’ and lock them inside, but that just goes to show that even my knees are knocking.”

The Summercrest contingent bustled into the parlor, the men clapping Jamie on the back and the women hugging Sophie. Kade arrived moments later, followed by Donal, whose face was grim.

“Bad news,” he said as he closed the door. “I got a tip. The Garda is sending Denis Walsh as lead investigator. He showed up unannounced, saying he’d be taking the case.”

Jamie’s stomach twisted as Ellie blurted, “But he’s the officer who didnothingwhen we called the Garda after that bullshit inspector showed up with bogus health and safety violations and closed the arts center last February.”

“They have theirinstructionsis all my source could say,” Donal ground out.

“What does that mean?” Sophie asked, her voice laced with tension.

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