sites. It had nothing to do with Bracken Distillers.”
“Thank God for that. The drop the other night—that was a ruse?”
“Yeah, Fin. A ruse. More like an ambush. They wanted Becan, and they wanted me.”
“How did you get hurt?”
“The bastards grabbed Becan, and I got good thrashing saving him, but the worst, Fin—the worst of it came when I ducked a gunshot and fell in your blasted health club.”
His health club. Finian could almost see Sean’s devil-may-care smile, but he heard a grown of pain and suspected his friend’s attempt at humor—this call—had cost him.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Finian said. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“It’ll take another day or two before I’m glad of it.”
A long recovery lay ahead. “Will you go to Declan’s Cross to recuperate?”
“It would be a chance to further annoy Kitty,” Sean said, but his voice was weak, then the connection was lost.
Finian didn’t know if someone else clicked off the phone for his garda friend. He settled back in his chair and watched the sun come up over Rock Point harbor, the sky glowing with pinks and purples, a glorious June day ahead. He wondered where Colin Donovan was right now.
Not at a desk in Washington, for certain.
Finian opened the folder Father Callaghan had left him. Inside, right on top, was a newspaper clipping from the first week in June—just before Finian’s arrival in Rock Point. He scanned the article, which featured the arrest of a notorious arms trafficker, a wealthy Russian, Viktor Bulgov, at the auction of a Picasso painting in Los Angeles.
“Sources say Bulgov leaves behind a trail of bodies...”
Finian flipped to the next page in the folder. This time it was a printout of a news article on the internet, with a photograph of Viktor Bulgov at a hotel in Los Angeles. He was a handsome middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit. The report hinted that an intensive federal undercover operation had led to Bulgov’s arrest at the art auction. He was now in FBI custody.
Finian closed the folder and ordered another doughnut.
So this was what his new American friend’s work was.
Colin Donovan was an undercover FBI agent.
Undoubtedly he’d dived back into his undercover role to tie up loose ends with the Russian’s colleagues.
Despite his lack of sleep and his night of waiting and pacing, he felt surprisingly energized. Colin Donovan and Sean Murphy were very different men but both had tough, dangerous jobs—and Finian could see that part of his role as a priest was to be their spiritual advisor, but, most of all, he was their friend.
His doughnut arrived warm from the oven, sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Pure heaven, he thought with a smile, ready to begin his first full day serving the people of Rock Point, Maine.
He looked out at the harbor, as lobster boats puttered out into the sunrise, and he knew that whatever trials and doubts lay ahead, he was where he was meant to be.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Carla’s newest Sharpe & Donovan novel , DECLAN’S CROSS!
Author’s Note
I’ve heard from so many readers who are as captivated as I am by enigmatic Finian Bracken, and I loved having the opportunity to write this “prequel” about his departure from Ireland and his arrival in Rock Point, Maine.
Finian plays a role in the first three books in my Sharpe & Donovan series. In Saint’s Gate , he’s instrumental in Colin Donovan meeting FBI art crimes expert Emma Sharpe when a nun at a Maine convent—in fact, Emma’s former convent—is murdered. In Heron’s Cove , Finian keeps the whiskey flowing when Emma’s world as a Sharpe and Colin’s world as an undercover agent collide. In Declan’s Cross , we’re back in the tiny Irish village, where Finian’s friends Sean Murphy and Kitty O’Byrne Doyle are dealing with a missing American woman...and, of course, FBI agents Emma Sharpe & Colin Donovan.
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“Thank God for that. The drop the other night—that was a ruse?”
“Yeah, Fin. A ruse. More like an ambush. They wanted Becan, and they wanted me.”
“How did you get hurt?”
“The bastards grabbed Becan, and I got good thrashing saving him, but the worst, Fin—the worst of it came when I ducked a gunshot and fell in your blasted health club.”
His health club. Finian could almost see Sean’s devil-may-care smile, but he heard a grown of pain and suspected his friend’s attempt at humor—this call—had cost him.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Finian said. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“It’ll take another day or two before I’m glad of it.”
A long recovery lay ahead. “Will you go to Declan’s Cross to recuperate?”
“It would be a chance to further annoy Kitty,” Sean said, but his voice was weak, then the connection was lost.
Finian didn’t know if someone else clicked off the phone for his garda friend. He settled back in his chair and watched the sun come up over Rock Point harbor, the sky glowing with pinks and purples, a glorious June day ahead. He wondered where Colin Donovan was right now.
Not at a desk in Washington, for certain.
Finian opened the folder Father Callaghan had left him. Inside, right on top, was a newspaper clipping from the first week in June—just before Finian’s arrival in Rock Point. He scanned the article, which featured the arrest of a notorious arms trafficker, a wealthy Russian, Viktor Bulgov, at the auction of a Picasso painting in Los Angeles.
“Sources say Bulgov leaves behind a trail of bodies...”
Finian flipped to the next page in the folder. This time it was a printout of a news article on the internet, with a photograph of Viktor Bulgov at a hotel in Los Angeles. He was a handsome middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit. The report hinted that an intensive federal undercover operation had led to Bulgov’s arrest at the art auction. He was now in FBI custody.
Finian closed the folder and ordered another doughnut.
So this was what his new American friend’s work was.
Colin Donovan was an undercover FBI agent.
Undoubtedly he’d dived back into his undercover role to tie up loose ends with the Russian’s colleagues.
Despite his lack of sleep and his night of waiting and pacing, he felt surprisingly energized. Colin Donovan and Sean Murphy were very different men but both had tough, dangerous jobs—and Finian could see that part of his role as a priest was to be their spiritual advisor, but, most of all, he was their friend.
His doughnut arrived warm from the oven, sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Pure heaven, he thought with a smile, ready to begin his first full day serving the people of Rock Point, Maine.
He looked out at the harbor, as lobster boats puttered out into the sunrise, and he knew that whatever trials and doubts lay ahead, he was where he was meant to be.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Carla’s newest Sharpe & Donovan novel , DECLAN’S CROSS!
Author’s Note
I’ve heard from so many readers who are as captivated as I am by enigmatic Finian Bracken, and I loved having the opportunity to write this “prequel” about his departure from Ireland and his arrival in Rock Point, Maine.
Finian plays a role in the first three books in my Sharpe & Donovan series. In Saint’s Gate , he’s instrumental in Colin Donovan meeting FBI art crimes expert Emma Sharpe when a nun at a Maine convent—in fact, Emma’s former convent—is murdered. In Heron’s Cove , Finian keeps the whiskey flowing when Emma’s world as a Sharpe and Colin’s world as an undercover agent collide. In Declan’s Cross , we’re back in the tiny Irish village, where Finian’s friends Sean Murphy and Kitty O’Byrne Doyle are dealing with a missing American woman...and, of course, FBI agents Emma Sharpe & Colin Donovan.
Please join me on Facebook (
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