No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(47)

She took the hint, but not before giving Jimmy a good stare, which he duly returned.

‘Were you working here when Lynn O’Donnell disappeared?’ she asked.

‘What if I was?’

‘No need to get defensive. I’m reviewing her case.’ Lottie noticed Boyd’s eyes questioning her. Feck him. ‘Do you remember it?’

‘It was a long time ago.’

‘Ten years.’

‘That’s a long time.’

‘For someone who’s been here for forty?’ Lottie said. ‘Not that long at all.’

‘You need to check your files, because I can’t recall it.’ He turned to face the disused tracks.

‘I will. And I’ll be back.’

As she walked back along the platform, Lottie said, ‘He knows something.’

‘I suspect that as well,’ Boyd said.

‘We better keep him on our radar.’

‘I think he’s keeping us on his,’ Boyd said, nodding his head to the side.

Maguire was watching them from the old waiting room door. As they left, she could feel his eyes still on her, and she was sorry they’d decided to walk rather than driving. Even as she reached the bridge at the top of the hill, Lottie felt she was being watched.



* * *



The woman pulled her car into the line of traffic, keeping an eye on the two detectives walking up the hill. She toyed with the notion of returning to the train station to see what they’d found out, but she believed her time would be better utilised by keeping tabs on Lottie Parker.

Because she knew that wherever the detective inspector trod, she always left a murky footprint in her wake. She would make a mistake, that was certain.

And Cynthia Rhodes would be there to swoop in for the kill.





Thirty-Eight





Lottie squared her shoulders against the cold and walked with Boyd up Main Street. She stopped at a pole and tore off the piece of paper. ‘Someone’s been putting up flyers looking for information on Lynn O’Donnell.’

‘They appear every year,’ Boyd said. ‘Your current workload already includes a murder, so don’t go off on a tangent.’

‘There’s another one,’ she said. ‘I’m definitely going to read the cold case file.’

‘Lottie!’

‘Not on work time; my own time.’

‘You don’t have any “own” time, I know what you’re like. Just drop it.’

‘Boyd, would you ever piss off?’

She wouldn’t drop it. Not without having a peek at the file first. Superintendent Corrigan would want her to. Just in case there was the possibility of a link to the murder of Elizabeth Byrne.

She walked on ahead of Boyd, wondering why she was so touchy. Perhaps she hadn’t taken two pills after all. She was losing track.



* * *



The incident room was buzzing. The phones were hopping.

‘What’s going on?’ Lottie said.

Kirby had a phone cradled between his chin and shoulder. ‘McMahon made a statement to the media asking for the public’s help in tracing the last movements of Elizabeth Byrne.’

‘I thought this was my investigation,’ Lottie said, hands on hips.

‘Something might come of it,’ Boyd said.

‘He probably ballsed it up and every crank in the town will be phoning in.’ She sat on a chair facing the incident board. ‘Any luck with the cameras on the trains?’

Boyd said, ‘Head office say they only keep the footage for two days, then it’s recorded over. But they’ll see what they can find.’

‘Probably a dead end. Any good news, Kirby?’

He hung up the call and consulted a file. ‘The service provider says Elizabeth’s phone was last active in the Ragmullin area. They can’t give a definite location yet. And it hasn’t transmitted a signal since 6.30 Monday evening.’

‘The killer has probably dismantled and destroyed it.’ Lottie continued to stare at the meagre information on the board. ‘Any news on Bridie McWard?’

‘Nope.’

‘Did she go to hospital for treatment?’

‘Refused.’

Lottie turned to Lynch, who was keeping her head down. ‘Anything on Matt Mullin?’

Lynch exchanged a glance with Kirby and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m working on it.’

‘What the hell is wrong with you all? I want answers, not dawdling over nonsense phone calls. Get focused on proper work.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘Shit, I need a coffee.’

She made for the kitchen with Boyd following. Pouring water from the kettle into two mugs, she took one and sipped. Boyd took the other.

‘You must have put two spoons of coffee in it,’ he said.

‘That’s mine. Take this one. I need to be alert.’

McMahon walked by, did a double take and came back.

‘This area is out of bounds. Use the canteen.’

Lottie lifted her mug to her lips and sipped slowly. ‘Says who?’

‘Says me. This place is breaking every health and safety regulation.’

‘We’ve used it for the last three years.’