Page 32 of Final Betrayal

As she walked slowly down the stairs, she was still trying to catch her breath.

‘You okay?’ Boyd said behind her.

Shaking her head, she jumped down the last two steps and stepped out through the front door. Outside, she pulled down the hood of her suit and gasped in a lungful of fresh air. The rain had eased to a misty drizzle.

A crowd had gathered beyond the front wall; among them she glimpsed Cynthia Rhodes, a crime reporter with national television.

‘She’s all I need,’ she croaked.

‘Want me to have a word with her?’ Boyd asked.

‘It’s okay. I’ll give her a no comment.’

‘Perhaps you should be polite and make an appeal for witnesses?’

Lottie ignored him. Beyond the inner cordon, she pulled off her protective clothing, bundling it into a brown paper bag held out by a SOCO, and marched over to the wall. The feeling of unease that Cynthia always generated in her knotted her shoulders together. The reporter had a way of causing her to spout the wrong words, so she silently warned herself to form her sentences fully in her head before she spoke.

‘Detective Inspector Parker,’ Cynthia shouted, pushing a damp microphone under her nose. ‘Can you tell us what’s going on here this morning?’

Seeing the camera being swung in her direction, Lottie squared her shoulders. She had to make herself look in control of the situation while her mind was whirring in a myriad of directions.

‘Thank you for coming out in this terrible weather. Two bodies have been found in suspicious circumstances in the house behind me. I’d like to ask the public if they have any information in relation to this crime to contact our helpline or phone Ragmullin garda station. All information will be treated with the utmost confidentiality.’

Even as she spoke, Lottie didn’t believe her own words. It was impossible to keep anything confidential in Ragmullin.

‘Can you tell us anything about the victims? Who are they?’ Cynthia persisted.

‘As I said, I welcome the public’s help in this matter. If anyone is aware of any inappropriate activity in the area over the last week or two, they should contact us.’

‘Do you think one of them could be Councillor Whyte’s daughter? She’s been reported missing. I read an alert before I arrived here.’ Cynthia’s black curls clung damply to her forehead and her dark-rimmed spectacles were misted.

Lottie fought an urge to thump the reporter. Cynthia was always one step ahead of her. Perhaps it was her own fault for allowing Kirby to go ahead with the social media appeal for information on the missing girls.

‘This is no time for speculation, Ms Rhodes.’ She forced steadiness into her words. ‘Think of the families who have yet to be informed. Thank you.’

She caught up with Boyd at the car. ‘Let’s get out of here before I slap the puss off her.’

‘She’s only doing her job.’ The tyres skidded on the greasy road as he drove up to Main Street.

‘You have a soft spot for her, don’t you?’ Lottie sniped.

‘I’m not even going to grace that comment with a response.’

She looked out of the rain-smeared window at the shops. Boyd sped up the street and in two minutes had parked at the rear of the station. She was out of the car before him and rushed inside.

Kirby was slouched over his keyboard.

‘You could have held off on the social media appeal.’ Shit, why had she said that?

Kirby looked crestfallen. ‘What? You ordered me to go ahead. How was I to know they were already dead?’

‘Sorry. It’s just an awkward situation. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.’

Once she was in her own office, she hung up her damp jacket and sat at her desk musing over the problem of Kirby. She had to get him involved in this case but she needed him focused. With Maria Lynch on maternity leave and no one to replace her, Lottie’s resources were limited. And now she had two murders to investigate.

She glanced up as Boyd divested himself of his own jacket before sitting at his desk. There was a history of infrequent liaisons between them and he had once asked her for a commitment she couldn’t give. Her mother thought she should. But then Rose was old-fashioned and didn’t see how Lottie could sleep with Boyd now and again without any formal arrangement. Ah well, Rose would have a long wait if she thought she was going to be walking her daughter up the aisle any time soon. And anyway, Lottie wasn’t even her biological daughter! That made her think of Leo Belfield. There was no way she could leave now to follow up on a matter that was strictly private.

Her computer pinged with an email containing photos from the crime scene. Something to start on. Kicking herself into action, she jumped up. ‘Incident room. Let’s get this investigation up and running.’

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