Three Fates

league with Anita.”
    “You don’t know me or my league. We’ll have the Three Fates before it’s done, that’s a promise. And if you’re such an interested collector, you can prepare yourself to ante up for them.”
    “And I thought you weren’t a money-grubber.”
    Because she heard the humor in his voice, it didn’t ruffle her feathers. “I’m a businesswoman, Jack, as you pointed out yourself. And I can wheel and deal as well as anyone. Better than most. I’ve done my research on the Fates. The complete set at auction at a place like Wyley’s or Sotheby’s could go for upwards of twenty million American dollars. More, if the right publicity spin’s put on it.”
    “An incomplete set, even two-thirds of the three, would only net a fraction of that, and only from an interested collector.”
    “We’ll have the three. We were meant to.”
    He let it go and kept pace with her brisk march up a long hill at the very edge of town. At the top was a pretty house with a pretty garden, and a pretty woman tending it.
    She straightened, shielded her eyes with the flat of her hand. When she smiled in greeting, Jack caught the resemblance around the mouth.
    “Well, Becca darling, what have you brought home with you?”
    “Jack Burdett. I invited him home for tea before I knew he was a liar and a sneak.”
    “Is that so?” Eileen’s smile didn’t dim in the slightest. “Well, an invitation’s an invitation after all. I’m Eileen Sullivan.” She extended her hand over the garden gate. “Mother to this rude creature.”
    “It’s nice to meet you. I enjoyed your talk during the tour.”
    “It’s kind of you to say so. You’re from America?” she added as she opened the gate.
    “New York. I’m in Cobh as I was hoping to talk to your son Malachi, regarding the Three Fates.”
    “Sure, you have no trouble spilling it all out to her in a lump,” Rebecca scolded. “With me it’s all flirtation and pretense.”
    “I said I liked the look of you, and since you don’t strike me as a stupid woman, you’d know if a man looks at you and doesn’t like what he sees, he’s got a serious problem. Boiled down, that means there was flirtation but no pretense. I’ve annoyed your daughter, Mrs. Sullivan.”
    Amused, intrigued, Eileen nodded. “That’s easily done. Maybe we should talk inside before the neighbors start wagging about it. Kate Curry’s already peeking out the window. So, you’ve come from New York,” she continued as she started up the short walk to the door. “Have you family there?”
    “Not anymore. My parents moved to Arizona several years ago. They like the weather.”
    “Hot, I suppose. No wife, then?”
    “Not anymore. I’m divorced.”
    “Ah.” Eileen led the way into the company parlor. “That’s a pity.”
    “The marriage was the pity. The divorce was a lot easier on both of us. You have a good home, Mrs. Sullivan.”
    She liked the way he put it. “Yes, I do, and you make yourself comfortable in it. I’ll see about that tea, then we’ll talk. Rebecca, entertain our guest.”
    “Ma.” With a withering glance at Jack, Rebecca hustled after Eileen.
    He could hear the whispers from the hallway where they stood. Argued, he decided with a grin. He couldn’t make out the words, until the last of them. That was clear.
    “Rebecca Anne Margaret Sullivan, you get in the company parlor and show some manners this minute, or I’ll know the reason why.”
    Rebecca stomped back in, flung herself in the chair across from Jack’s. Her face was full of storms, and her voice full of ice. “Don’t think you’ll get around me because you got around my mother.”
    “Wouldn’t dream of it. Rebecca Anne Margaret.”
    “Oh, stuff it.”
    “Tell me why your brother went back to New York. Tell me why you think Anita’s involved in a murder.”
    “I’ll tell you nothing at all until I’ve had a whack at my computer and seen how much of what you’ve told me is the truth.”
    “Go ahead, do it now.” He waved a hand. “I’ll cover for you with your mother.”
    Rebecca weighed her mother’s wrath against the burn of her own curiosity. Knowing she’d pay for it dearly, she got to her feet. “If one single thing you’ve said doesn’t match, I’ll boot you out personally.”
    She walked to the doorway, and Jack saw her send an uneasy glance down the hall, where her mother had gone, before she charged up the steps.
    Because he sympathized with a child’s healthy fear