No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(45)

Lottie walked with Boyd down the sharp incline to the visitor centre and entered through the sliding glass doors. At the reception desk, she hit the bell.

A young woman opened the door behind the desk and stood gawking. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

‘It is me,’ Lottie said, and smiled sweetly at Carol O’Grady.

Carol scowled, her face pale and drawn, as she sat down behind the desk. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to have another word with you about your friend Elizabeth. Can you join us for a cup of tea or coffee?’

‘Give me a couple of minutes. The café is over there, to your right.’

The scent of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air as the two detectives made their way inside.

‘Smells good,’ Lottie said. ‘I’ll have a toasted ham and cheese croissant. And a large coffee.’ She sat down on one of the sofas to wait for Carol.

‘I’m paying so?’ Boyd said, and turned to the counter.

‘Looks like it.’

Lottie pulled off her hat and scarf and unbuttoned her jacket. Her hands were as white as a corpse and reminded her of Elizabeth’s foot with its pink-painted toenails.

Boyd joined her and sat down. ‘They’ll bring it over.’

She looked up as a shadow fell across the small table.

Carol said, ‘I really have nothing to tell you.’

‘We just want to find out a little more about Elizabeth. There has to be something in her life to give us a clue as to why she was killed.’

‘I don’t want to get into any trouble. I need this job.’ Carol’s hand flew to her stomach. ‘Now more than ever.’

‘Sit down,’ Lottie said. ‘Have a cup of coffee.’

‘I really can’t leave the front desk.’

‘You just have. Isn’t there a bell if anyone calls in?’

With a nervous glance out to the foyer, Carol appeared to settle the conflict in her mind and sat down opposite Lottie as Boyd went off to order another coffee.

‘Black, no sugar,’ Carol called. ‘I can’t bear anything sweet at the moment.’

‘What’s it like working here?’ Lottie asked.

‘It’s okay, I suppose. A bit far from town.’

‘What did Elizabeth do in her spare time?’

‘She hadn’t that much spare time with all the commuting.’

‘She had time to go out for drinks and clubbing, though. And you mentioned she did some running.’

‘Yeah. Out here on Saturdays and Sundays. Lots of locals use the grounds for jogging. We ran together. Don’t think I’ll be doing too much now.’

‘Exercise is good for you, especially while pregnant,’ Lottie said, thinking she could do with some herself. ‘Was there anyone else that Elizabeth ran with besides yourself?’

‘No.’

‘Anyone take an interest in her?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘How many people would be here on a Saturday morning?’

‘Upwards of fifty. I can check the register. Everyone who runs has to sign in. They don’t have to pay, you see, but for insurance they have to sign in. I’ll get the book.’

‘Scare her off already?’ Boyd put a tray on the table, then sat down and dished out the coffee.

Carol returned with a ledger. Lottie ran her finger down the mainly illegible signatures. ‘Can you copy this for me?’

‘Sure. Is this mine?’ Carol took the black coffee and blew over the steaming liquid. After only one sip, she said, ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I need to use the bathroom,’ and escaped with her hand clasped to her mouth.

Lottie said, ‘When we have this copied, I want you to go through the lists. You’re good at that kind of thing.’ She handed the book to Boyd.

‘This goes back weeks,’ he said, flicking through the pages.

‘All the better to make a comparison of names each week. We might find something.’

‘Or not.’ Boyd put the book down and shoved a large portion of croissant into his mouth.

‘I thought that was mine.’ Lottie rolled her eyes and drank her coffee. Another headache was taking root at the base of her skull. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she should be asking Carol.





Thirty-Seven





Ragmullin train station had stood for over one hundred and fifty years, with the canal on one side and the town on the other. It was situated at the foot of an incline. At one time, it had two viable lines. One carried trains travelling to and from Galway, and the other to Sligo. But now the only remaining line was Dublin to Sligo and vice versa. Part of the old Galway track, along the route of the canal, had been rejuvenated as a cycleway.

‘It’s great,’ Boyd explained to Lottie as they made their way towards the station entrance. ‘Very safe. Great for kids. It’s always busy, but the good thing is, there’s no traffic.’

‘Do you use it?’

‘At least once a week, when I’m not working a murder investigation. This type of job saps my energy.’

‘I’d imagine this type of job would whet your appetite to get out and feel the fresh air in your lungs.’