Liar's Key. Carla Neggers

deep green eyes. Her answer finally came on his screen. Does that explain your visit from Sean?

      Yes. Talk to Yank.

      Will do. On my way to Maine. I’m having lunch tomorrow with your mother.

      Good luck. You’ll need it. I learned my best interrogation techniques from her.

      Ha. Safe travels. Love you.

      You, too, babe.

      Colin started to slide his phone back into his jacket pocket but saw he had a response from Yank: Your garda friend has a call in to me.

      That was quick. He’s good but you’ll be okay.

      Colin could almost see Yank’s roll of the eyes but his flight was being called. He got out his boarding pass. Bad enough Oliver York was on the radar again, but if a retired FBI agent was stirring up trouble and if that trouble involved MI5, Colin wouldn’t be surprised if a few agents met him at Heathrow. Then it would be a long night of explaining—but explaining what?

      He gritted his teeth. He would find out what he could in London and go from there.

      It was a short hop to London. He’d get his head sorted out before he arrived. He wanted to know the truth about why Oliver had been in Declan’s Cross and what he knew about Claudia Deverell and her tour of Bracken Distillers, and about Gordy Wheelock—and what, if anything, they had to do with a dead archaeologist and stolen ancient mosaics. And if there was any connection to the Sharpe Fine Art Recovery open house on Saturday in Heron’s Cove, Maine.

      “And with Emma,” Colin said under his breath as he headed through the rain to the waiting plane.