Page 36 of Final Betrayal

She shrugged away the tears that were beginning to bubble at the corners of her eyes. Must be the menopause, she thought.

‘Could be,’ he said.

She laughed. ‘Did I actually say that out loud?’

‘You did.’ He gripped her hand tightly. ‘You need to unwind a bit. You never left the phone out of your hand last evening when I was at yours. How about dinner out tonight? Indian? You like that place. My treat.’

Lottie felt her stomach flip. The thought of food made her grimace. ‘Boyd, we still have two young women lying in there. Food is the last thing on my mind.’

He drew back and took the keys out of the ignition. ‘You’re slipping into frosty, Lottie. I thought for a few weeks there that you were thawing. But I was wrong. I can’t do this any longer. Honestly, you need to grow up a bit and move on.’

‘What the hell do you mean?’ She tried to cover her hurt with indignation.

‘I thought the new house might have released some of your sadness and grief. Take it from me, as a friend: you need to ditch Adam’s ghost and find your own life.’

He opened the door and got out of the car.

‘Whatever,’ she said, and followed him to Mrs Loughlin’s door.

It opened immediately.

The smile on the woman’s face slid downward and a crease folded into the lines on her forehead. ‘Oh, I thought it was that nice guard. The young Thornton lad.’

‘Can we come in, please?’ Lottie showed her ID and smiled. Tom Thornton must be at least ten years her senior.

‘Come along. Don’t mind the smell. Rising damp, you know. But I still won’t sell to that smug-faced developer, no matter how many offers he shoves through my letter box.’

‘Who would that be?’ Boyd asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

‘You can sit if you like,’ Mrs Loughlin said, turning up her lip.

Boyd had the grace to blush.

‘Thank you.’ Lottie smiled. The kitchen was small and warm, but there was the same damp smell that had been in the crime-scene house.

Mrs Loughlin opened the door of the small range and threw in two briquettes, then put a kettle on the hot plate.

‘That shiny-suited Gill man. I’ve got his letters here somewhere.’ She pulled a bundle of mail from the centre of the table.

‘No, it’s okay,’ Lottie said, trying to hide a smirk. ‘I know who you mean. We need to talk about what happened at number three.’

Mrs Loughlin sat at the table and flicked crumbs from the green and white oilcloth. ‘Awful business. Those poor lassies. I don’t know what this town is coming to.’

‘I want to ask you a few questions.’

‘Go ahead.’ She stood and opened the cupboard.

‘We don’t need tea, thank you.’ When the woman was seated again, Lottie began. ‘I’ve read Garda Thornton’s report of your visit to the station this morning. I’m wondering if you can remember any further details.’

‘Do you think those two lads had something to do with the murders?’

Lottie sighed. ‘The cause of death won’t be released until the state pathologist carries out her post-mortem, so I’d prefer it if we just referred to them as suspicious deaths for the moment.’

‘Two girls are dead, no matter what fancy words you try to dress it up in, young lady.’

Lottie felt a flush creep up her cheeks. Mrs Loughlin had a way of making her feel she was back in school and getting blamed for something she didn’t do.

‘I understand that, but we are up against the clock to find out what happened. You told Garda Thornton that you heard a lot of noise coming from that house. Can you be more specific?’

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