Page 64 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

“They can come and stay at our place,” Bets said, gesturing to Linc. “Anyone can. It’s not luxurious—”

“Neither is Summercrest,” Declan added, “but all are welcome until we have a better grip on the situation.”

“I’m going to fly in a couple of security officers from my former company for the arts center until I can hire permanent staff,” Linc said. “Most of our board members are in this room. Any objections?”

Jamie shook his head along with everyone else, then said, “We also need to be proactive about the censorship issue.”

“Bets and I are scheduled to meet with the Arts Council this week, time still TBD.” Linc took a deep breath. “Anyone ever think they’d face this kind of shit when Bets first mentioned wanting to start a local arts center? Isn’t life grand?”

“It’s absolute shit sometimes,” Kathleen said tersely. “My brother would kick those officers’ teeth in for disgracing the uniform. He can’t stand to see that kind of crap anywhere, whether it’s in his own precinct or elsewhere. He’s a cop in Boston, Sophie.”

“He sounds like the kind of policeman who does his job,” Sophie said. “Too bad we’re not dealing with one of those here.”

Linc rubbed his hands together. “If the Garda isn’t going to do dick, maybe we need to have our own people look into the matter. Donal, what odds do you give us on Denis’ superiors taking things seriously?”

He lifted his massive shoulders. “Thirty percent probably. Every Garda you talk to will cite stretched resources and jurisdiction issues. But we need to send a message even if it doesn’t go anywhere.”

“Then we’ll send a message no one can ignore.” Linc scanned the room. “I want to thank every person here who has put up with this shit. I wasn’t present before Ellie arrived, obviously, but I know y’all have faced enormous obstacles. I can promise you this: I’m going to crucify these bastards, one way or another. We are going to make this arts center safe for everyone—children included—and when we’re done, no one is going to be able to touch us.”

“You really are starting to sound like an Irishman,” Donal said, inclining his chin.

“Now I need to think like one.” Linc tapped his noggin.

“Who would have put those kids up to this kind of vandalizing?” Ellie asked.

“Malcolm.” Bets began to tick them off with her fingers. “Mary. Maybe even Tom MacKenna. What about that reporter who hosed you in the county paper, Jamie?”

“Hard to say.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw, suddenly sick of it all. “But he’s in Galway and more the sort who’d use his pen for filth, I think.”

“We’ll investigate them all,” Linc said. “Sophie, is any of this making you feel better?”

The sight of everyone crammed together in his parlor was a balm. Jamie put his hand on her low back as she unrolled her shoulders. “I’m not sure anything would ease my tension, but I really like the idea of offering a reward for information. I hate to be cynical, but the kind of people we’re dealing with are motivated by hate and greed. I doubt they’ll stop unless someone makes them. As for the media blitz, I’m already fending off inquiries after that article in the national paper. I hate taking away studio time, but it seems I’ll be giving lots of interviews this week.”

“Maybe we should call a press conference.” Bets punched her fist into her other hand. “Send out international invitations to the press. Artistic intimidation, especially on women’s issues, is a hot topic. So is censorship.”

“I think a lot of people would show up for that,” Ellie offered. “Maybe in the future we could even hold a conference on the topic. When we have a hotel…”

Reluctant chuckles sounded before Sophie said, “I know you’re still looking for a publicist for the center. Why don’t you let me call the woman my mother uses? She’s French, of course, and a total pit bull. Nothing intimidates her. She’s highly respected in art circles and has a lot of connections in both Europe and the U.S. If she invites people, they’ll show up.”

“Do it,” Bets said after she and Linc shared a look. “And thanks, Sophie.”

She blew out a long sigh. “I guess all those tools I learned from my parents are paying off. But I feel a little better now that we’ve got a plan.”

“We’ve been reacting to events, and I’m tired of dancing to people’s tune,” Linc said. “Anyone else?”

“Time for us to play the music,” Jamie agreed, taking Sophie’s hand.

She glanced into his eyes, her gaze searching. “And Liam, if it’s really no problem, I’d love having this place armored up tomorrow—with a dog, please, Kade. I’m starting to feel like this is home.”

He traced her face, knowing what he was about to do would change things. “Youare home,mo shíogrhrá.”

She might not know he’d just called hermy eternal onebut everyone else did.

He’d declared her as his own.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Maybe she should never have started this.

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