Now You See Her Page 0,38
know.”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“Just that she’d been in some sort of trouble in London and that she’d come to Ireland to get away. Stuff like that. Nothing concrete. Like I said, just rumors. So when you showed up, askin’ about her, I assumed you were with Scotland Yard or Interpol.”
“And now?”
“Now I know you’re tellin’ me the truth.” He smiled, reached across the table for her hand. “Nobody makes up a story like that.”
Marcy smiled. “My husband thinks I do. He thinks I’m crazy.”
“Soon-to-be-ex-husband,” Liam corrected, “and I think he’s crazy, letting a woman like you get away.”
Marcy slowly slipped her hand away from his, placed it in her lap. “You should be careful when you say things like that. They could be taken the wrong way.”
Liam’s green eyes sparkled playfully. “And what way would that be?”
“Some women might think you were coming on to them.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think you’re just being kind.”
He laughed. “First time I’ve ever been accused of that.”
“Are you coming on to me?” Marcy asked, amazed she was actually asking the question out loud.
“Don’t know. Haven’t quite made up my mind.”
Marcy smiled and shook her head. “How old are you, Liam?”
“Thirty-four on my next birthday.”
“I’m fifty.”
“Fifty’s not old.”
“It’s not thirty-four.”
“It’s just a number. And like I said, I’ve never gone much for girls my own age. Lost my virginity when I was twelve to a sixteen-year-old hussy. I’ve had a thing for older women ever since.”
Marcy rubbed her head to keep it from spinning. Surely she was imagining this entire conversation. Maybe she had a concussion after all.
“What are you thinking?” Liam asked.
“I’m thinking that for twenty-five years I had sex with only one man. My husband,” Marcy told him honestly, deciding what the hell, there was no point in being anything else. “And to be truthful, in the last few years, we hardly had sex at all. At least, I hardly had sex. As it turned out, he was having plenty. But anyway, that doesn’t really matter. What matters is that in all those years, no other man expressed the least interest in me, and now I’m fifty years old and I’m having hot flashes and my hair’s a mess.…”
“Your hair is gorgeous.”
“And I come to Ireland,” Marcy continued, ignoring his interruption, “and suddenly, I’m like this femme fatale. I’ve got guys falling all over me. And I don’t know, maybe it’s something they put in the beer over here, or maybe I’m just putting out these vibes of not-so-quiet desperation.…”
“Or maybe you’re just a very beautiful woman.”
“You could have any woman you want,” Marcy told him, doing her best to ignore the compliment.
“What if you’re the woman I want?”
Marcy shook her head. “You don’t want me.”
“I don’t?”
“You just feel sorry for me.”
“Why would I feel sorry for you?” he asked. “You’re a beautiful woman with gorgeous curls who’s found the daughter she thought was dead. I’d say that’s cause for celebration, not pity.”
“I haven’t found her yet.”
“But you will.”
“Maybe that’s when I’ll feel like celebrating.”
“Well, then,” Liam said, green eyes dancing with unspoken possibilities. “Looks like I’ll just have to stick around and help you find her.”
ELEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING MARCY returned to the house on Adelaide Road.
She was there by eight o’clock, having wolfed down the huge breakfast that Sadie Doyle prepared daily. The breakfast consisted of bacon and two eggs over medium, a bowl of oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar, and two pieces of brown toast, complete with homemade marmalade and strawberry preserves. Judith would be properly horrified, Marcy thought as she ate, knowing her sister would have ordered only a small bowl of fresh fruit along with at least three cups of black coffee. Marcy had avoided liquids altogether. Coffee had a habit of running right through her, and she wasn’t sure when she’d next have a chance to go to the bathroom.
It could be a very long day, she was thinking now, checking her watch for the third time in as many minutes. Already ten thirty and nothing had happened since Mr. O’Connor had left for work two hours earlier. At least she’d managed to find a fairly secluded spot at the side of a neighbor’s house across the street from the O’Connors’ from which she could stand and keep watch.
So far, there’d been nothing to see.
At least the sun was shining, she thought, purposefully ignoring the large cluster of ominous-looking clouds gathering on the horizon. Mercifully, it wasn’t as cold as it had been the last