Page 140 of Final Betrayal

‘I thought of that.’ And she had. Every scenario was tripping over itself in her brain. ‘Okay. Radio for an armed unit to follow us.’

‘We should wait for them.’

‘Just drive the fucking car, Boyd.’

As far as Kirby knew, Megan didn’t have a pet. But the noise had sounded like an animal. Or something. Or someone.

Curiosity got the better of him, so he got out of his car and walked around the side of the house again. Ears pricked. Listening. Nothing. He stood at the back door, pressed his ear up against it. Definitely nothing. Back around to the front again, and to the garage. Silence. But he had to go in. He wished he had McKeown’s knife.

He jiggled his car key in the garage lock. Pulled it, twisted it. No go. Looking around on the ground, he found a sharp piece of slate, but it broke the second he tried to jimmy the lock. He stood back and surveyed the doors. Hinges. He set to work on the screws with his key.

One hinge was on the ground, with three more to go, when he heard a car screech into the gravelled drive.

SIXTY

There were no lights on in the house up ahead as Boyd turned off the main road and made his way up the unlit avenue.

‘It’s as dark and forbidding as the first time we were here.’

‘That was a year ago, Boyd.’

‘I know, but some things imprint themselves on your brain and you can never erase them.’

‘I’m not listening to that shite.’ Lottie jumped out of the car almost before he had the brake on.

He followed her with two torches he’d taken from the boot. ‘Are you going to ring the bell?’

‘I’ve a key. Somewhere.’ She twiddled her key ring around in her hand, trying to find the right one.

‘How come you have that?’

‘It’s my biological grandmother’s home. The solicitor gave me the key and asked me to keep an eye on it while probate is being conducted.’

‘You never told me that.’

‘Jesus Christ, Boyd. I don’t tell you everything.’ She found the correct key, and after a couple of nervous tries, it slid it into the new lock that had been fitted after Kitty Belfield had died.

‘Have you been out here at all since … you know?’

‘No. Shush.’

Stepping onto the cold stone floor, Lottie listened to the door creak open and felt Boyd’s soft breath on her neck. In different circumstances she would have welcomed his closeness, the safety of having him by her side. But her daughters’ lives were at stake, and all she could think about was that they might be here. With Leo and Bernie. Whether Leo was in cahoots with Bernie was something she would soon find out.

‘This way. I see a faint light,’ she whispered.

‘What’s down there?’

‘The kitchen.’

She edged along the wall towards the room at the end, where a thin shaft of light seeped from beneath the door. She wondered what awaited her.

With one hand on the handle, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

‘Sweet Mother of Jesus,’ Boyd exclaimed.

‘Holy shit,’ Lottie said once she could form the words.

The ambulance rushed with sirens and flashing lights down the avenue while Lottie and Boyd waited for SOCOs. Bernie Kelly was no longer on the run. No longer in the wind. No longer a threat to Lottie’s family. She lay curled on the floor, hardened froth on her lips and her eyes hysterically open in death.

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