Death in the Sunshine (Retired Detectives Club, #1)(64)

She fixes the cop with a steely gaze. ‘Officer, your behaviour here is beyond awful. You’ve taken my grandson, and now you’re violating my property. I’m going to take this up with the commissioner. He’s an old family friend and I’m sure he won’t take kindly to—’

‘I don’t mean you any disrespect, ma’am, but I have to do my job. The search will be fast, and then we’ll be out of your hair.’ The cop touches his hand to his forehead in a makeshift salute, then follows his officers into the house.

Miss Betty doesn’t look pleased. She turns to Rick and Philip. ‘Why aren’t you stopping them?’

‘We can’t,’ says Rick. ‘They’ve got a warrant. Legally, you have to give them access.’ He turns to Philip. ‘Look, I talked to Moira. Things went bad at the CCTV office. Hank’s been attacked, and it sounds like Moira’s injured. Cops and medical are on their way. I’m going there now.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ says Philip.

Rick looks back to Miss Betty. ‘Call your grandson a lawyer, Miss Betty. And make sure they’re real good at what they do. He’s going to need it.’

‘You think he killed that girl?’ says Miss Betty.

‘No, I don’t. But he’s going to have a hard time proving that to the cops.’ Rick looks from Miss Betty to Martha. ‘Keep me in the loop on whatever happens, and I’ll do the same. If you need me, I’ll be on my cell.’

‘You’re leaving right away, when I’ve got a house full of police doing who knows what to my private belongings?’ Miss Betty says, clenching her fists. ‘What kind of gentlemen are you? Why aren’t you staying here and helping me? How can you—’

‘I am helping you, ma’am,’ says Rick, trying to keep his tone even. ‘I’m helping you and your grandson, because I’m going to find out what the hell is going on and prove Mikey isn’t the murderer.’





35


MOIRA


Moira’s eyes don’t want to stay open. She feels as if there are weights on her lids, pushing them down, no matter how hard she tries to stay alert. Forcing herself to move, she shuffles closer to Hank. He’s still unconscious and his skin has a greyish, waxy look to it that can’t be a good thing. She checks again that his pulse is still there and is relieved when she feels it, but as she counts the beats her relief mingles with concern. Hank’s pulse is slower and weaker than it was a few minutes earlier. She glances towards the door to the Surveillance Suite and hopes help arrives soon.

She looks at Hank’s ashen face. Putting her hand on his arm, she tries to muster her most convincing voice. ‘Hang on in there, Hank. Help is coming.’

His eyes flicker.

‘Can you hear me, Hank? It’s Moira. I’m a new resident here. I found you. You’ve been injured. Help is on the way.’

Hank’s eyes open, darting from side to side, unfocused. His lips start to move. He’s trying to say something. Moira leans closer. Listens hard. But she can’t make out his words. ‘What’s that?’

Silence.

She looks at his face. His eyes are closed. His mouth is slightly open. He’s lost consciousness again.

Moira curses under her breath. Then she hears voices in the corridor. She thinks she recognises them, but the woozy feeling is back and she feels strange, discombobulated. She swallows back the nausea. Raises her head.

‘I’m in the Surveillance Suite,’ she calls. Her voice sounds odd, weaker.

The footsteps come closer, get louder. The noise of them feels like a pneumatic drill bashing into her brain. Just as she thinks she can’t take the noise a moment longer, Rick rushes into the room with Philip not far behind.

Rick stands above her, looking even more like a hulking giant from her viewpoint on the ground. The worry clear on his face. ‘You okay? What happened?’

‘I’m fine.’ Moira gestures towards Hank. ‘He hit Hank harder, he needs the medics now.’

‘Did you call 911?’ asks Philip, bending down to pick up one of the crushed USB sticks.

‘Of course I did, I’m not a bloody idiot.’ Moira doesn’t try to hold back her anger; she hasn’t the energy or the patience. Philip needs to not ask stupidly obvious questions. ‘The guy had a mask on, but I think it was the same person I saw on the trail last night – similar body type and gait. He took the hard drives.’

‘And destroyed the rest,’ says Philip, grim-faced, as he inspects the smashed USB stick in his hand. ‘He must have—’

‘Shush.’ Moira holds up her hand to silence him. Listens. There’s a siren and it’s getting closer. She looks at Rick. ‘Can you go outside and guide them to Hank?’

‘Sure,’ says Rick.

She closes her eyes as he hurries back down the hallway to greet the blue lights. The pneumatic drill inside her mind seems to double down on its efforts, and the effect makes the urge to vomit stronger. When she opens her eyes again she sees Philip poking about at the computers on the desk and muttering something unintelligible.

Moira ignores him. She thinks back to the previous evening – how she’d had the feeling that someone was watching her and Rick as they talked outside in Philip and Lizzie’s garden. And how she’d thought she’d seen movement over by the hedge. She’d checked it out and when she’d seen no one she’d told herself she was being paranoid, but maybe there had been someone there – not the blond from before, but the guy she’d seen on the trail.