‘Yes. The slimy bastard is all over the dark web selling photographs and videos.’
‘We found some photos of him with a young girl who was murdered this morning. It was buried in a fake Instagram account. I hoped it couldn’t be linked to anything this disturbing. Shit, Boyd, I need to get my head around this. Can Jackie provide proof?’
‘She’s with her handler at the moment and said she’ll fill me in when she gets back. I just wanted to give you the heads-up.’
‘Thanks a million.’ She grabbed her shoes and put them on, anxious to get working on this angle.
‘You still there, Lottie?’
‘I have a problem. The McAllisters and Starr have disappeared.’
‘You think the parents are involved in their daughter’s murder?’
‘At this stage, I’d believe anything. Mary didn’t get on with Lucy, but Albert seemingly adored her. Keep your ear to the ground in case they turn up in Spain. I’ll alert airports and ports.’
‘There’s nothing stopping them hopping on a private plane,’ Boyd said.
‘I’ll request private airstrip monitoring.’
‘If they are behind all this, Lottie, you need to find them before someone else dies.’
‘I’m working flat out to discover the links that join up the circle. What about you and Sergio? Will you get home tomorrow?’
‘I’ll work on Jackie. You just solve your murder cases. And Lottie?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Be careful.’
She cut the call and assessed this new information. Was Terry Starr Oscar’s mystery boss? If Terry had suspected Jake was stealing from him, he’d had time to beat the boy up at Lucy’s, but he was on a plane leaving the country fairly soon afterwards. Forty-five minutes, or less, to get to the airport at that hour of the morning. A dash through security and a sprint to the boarding gate – an hour and a half at most. But he wouldn’t have been able to dump Jake’s body or dispose of the car. Someone else had to be involved.
Had Terry killed Lucy? There had been no mention of him being at the party, and anyway, why would he kill her? Was he grooming underage girls? How did he get access to them? What was the missing puzzle piece?
She reached the same conclusion as a moment ago.
Someone else had to be involved. Or more than one person.
Her head was spinning by the time she returned to Lynch and the Joneses.
‘So, Ivy, is it true about you and Richie?’ Lottie said.
‘What if it is? I’m eighteen next week.’
‘Richie Harrison is thirty years old, married, and his wife is expecting a baby in a few weeks.’
‘That’s his problem.’ The girl was belligerent, an ugly pout on her face.
‘There’s more to the relationship, isn’t there?’ Lottie persisted. She noticed Rita had her back to the room as she stared out of the bay window, and her shoulders were heaving.
Oscar piped up. ‘You may as well tell them. They’re going to find out anyhow.’
‘We sure are,’ Lynch said, her feet apart, arms by her sides, ready in case another row broke out.
Ivy twirled towards her, pushing her face close. ‘I’m not doing your job for you. You can find out on your own. I’m sick of it all.’
Before either Lottie or Lynch could stop her, she ran from the room.
Rita turned round, her eyes leaking tears. ‘Here was me thinking I had one delinquent in the family when I actually have two. I’m ringing Jim to come home.’