“Not that it’s any of your business, but I collaborated with Moira on her last three albums, playing flute and whistle.” Her bare feet made soft thumping sounds as she descended again, and rummaged through her cabinet for some tea bags. “You’ll have to make do with girly herbal tea, as I haven’t any dark tea available just now.”
Then her lyrical voice shifted from resentful to grim. “Damn it, Con, you just don’t understand how dangerous Jack Delaney is.” Scowling, she swung up onto one of her bar stools and braced both elbows on the marble counter. “When he threatened to kill me, he meant it. And he’ll do it, if he can find me, just because I was so close to Peggy.”
A weary sigh escaped her as she watched steam rise from her battered teapot. “I barely escaped Ireland with my life, and I’
