No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(112)

‘What do you mean?’ The hand holding the scissors wavered.

Mollie was as still as a statue, only her eyes giving away that she was alive. Darting from Cillian to Lottie, pleading for help. Lottie scanned the room once again for a weapon. The space was so confined, they were virtually on top of each other, but at the same time Finn seemed to be miles from her reach.

‘You took her away, didn’t you?’ Cillian said. ‘Before she could disgrace our family. You saved us a shitload of heartache, bro.’

Was he inverting the truth, trying to get Finn to believe he was the good guy in all this? Smart move if that was the case. But maybe it was a ploy. With exhaustion and the effects of the last twenty-four hours, Lottie felt her gut instinct had deserted her. She couldn’t read the situation. She needed Boyd.

‘You really think so?’ Finn said, his hand falling lower. It was now at Mollie’s neck. She still hadn’t moved.

‘Sure. And that traveller,’ Cillian said, ‘he got what he deserved.’

‘He sure did. I burned his hovel to the ground. Now he’s got nothing. Living there all that time, laughing at us, and he never knew how close he was to Lynn. I thought that was funny.’

‘Finn?’ Cillian said.

‘Yeah, bro?’

‘You took Lynn, I can understand that. But Carol. Why’d you have to take her from me too?’

‘What’re you talking about?’ Finn said, his brow tightening in two straight lines.

Yeah, what are you talking about? Lottie thought.

‘You raped her. Why?’

With her body pressed to Cillian’s, his arm still around her neck, Lottie sensed the tears streaming down his face. She glanced down at his other hand, to see if he held a weapon, but saw nothing. She had to hear this.

‘Rape? I didn’t …’ Finn’s eyes flared at his brother.

‘You did. I know you did. Why?’

‘So you know everything, as usual.’ He pointed the scissors at Cillian, away from Mollie, though he still had his other arm around her waist. ‘You had Keelan and Saoirse. You had everything and you went and ruined it. Going around sticking it in that Carol slut. And me at home with fucking Sara the cuckoo clock. Tick tock. Time’s up.’

He moved swiftly. Lottie was quicker. She rammed her elbow into Cillian’s stomach, shoving him back against the steps. Lunging forward, she kicked Finn in the groin and wrestled the weapon from his hand as he doubled over. Mollie fell back and rolled under the bed.

Footsteps hammered on the ladder and Boyd vaulted over the prostrate Cillian, landing on top of Finn. Lottie squirmed as she heard the whirr of a motor. Finn brought the razor up to Boyd’s face, shredding his cheek. But he held on to Finn’s wrists until the razor dropped to the ground.

Lottie snapped a set of handcuffs on the abductor and blew out a sigh of relief. Then she coaxed Mollie from beneath the bed and hugged her. Boyd pulled Cillian’s hands together and cuffed him.

Before reading the two men their rights, Lottie glanced around the hovel and noticed the little paintings on the walls. Saw the name on them.

Then she saw the bones.





Ninety-Nine





Kirby scratched his head and shoved a cigar into his mouth. The lake was churning waves in the wind.

‘Don’t you dare light that,’ Lynch said as she pulled open the door of a mobile home.

‘This must be the fiftieth door we’ve opened today,’ he said, looking longingly at the cigar in his hand before consigning it to his pocket.

Lynch said. ‘It’s the tenth. Nothing here. Have you the key to the next one?’

Kirby checked the bundle of keys they’d found in the unattended caretaker’s hut. So much for security. ‘This is a waste of time. There’s no one in any of them.’

‘Give me the key.’ Lynch marched over to number eleven.

‘What’s that over there?’ Kirby approached a small caravan surrounded by bushes at the end of the row. The windows were boarded up and the step broken. No sign of any gas cylinder or rubbish bins.

‘How the hell do I know?’ Lynch snapped the bundle of keys from his hand. ‘Maybe the owner died and it’s been left to rot.’

She went off with the keys and Kirby made to follow, but paused when he noticed a new lock on the door.

‘Lynch. This looks odd.’

‘Everything looks odd to you today,’ she called back.

He moved closer, tried to see in through the boards nailed to the windows. No cracks. He could see nothing. He rattled the handle of the door. ‘Anyone in there?’

He stuck his ear to the timber. Not a sound. Still, his gut told him to investigate further. A vice grip would be handy, he thought.

‘Any padlock keys on that ring?’ he yelled to Lynch.

‘No.’ She joined him.

Kirby thought for a minute. ‘Stand back.’

The wood splintered as his boot went through the rotten timber. The lock held firm, but he tore with his bare hands to make space to enter. The light cast shadows on a shape on the floor.

‘Call an ambulance,’ he whispered.



* * *



Crime-scene tape fluttered around his burned-out home. Paddy McWard shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and blinked away his tears. All his life he’d stood up to discrimination and prejudice, but he’d never got a chance to stand up for Lynn. And because of his love for her, he’d never allowed himself to love Bridie. But his son, little Tommy …