No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(99)

‘I thought I told you I wanted to see you immediately. Where the hell were you?’

‘I had an interview to conduct. McWard was on a time limit.’

‘I’m your superior officer. I come first.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Too late now, she thought. She’d already relegated him behind Paddy McWard. And there was no way she was telling him about the possible breakthrough in the case of Lynn O’Donnell. He could find out for himself when they filed for an extension of detention time.

‘Sit. That debacle of a television interview. What were you thinking?’

‘I wasn’t thinking, obviously.’

‘None of that smart mouth in here.’ He slammed his fist on the empty desk.

Lottie slipped down on the chair, hoping it might make her disappear. She was so tired; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. She needed to get home.

‘I’m exhausted, sir. Can’t we do this tomorrow?’

‘There’s no tomorrow where you’re concerned. You’re suspended, pending an inquiry into your attitude and behaviour.’

Shit!

‘Don’t I get a warning first? You can’t just suspend me. You have to follow procedure.’ She shot forward in the chair, reached out a hand. She didn’t do pleading, but she was doing it now.

‘And did you?’ he said.

‘What?

‘Follow procedure?’

‘That was different. Rhodes hijacked me. I wasn’t prepared for—’

‘You have to be prepared at all times. Someone in your position knows that.’

‘I forgot. I was—’

‘Exhausted? No excuse.’

She threw up her hands. ‘I’ve nothing else to offer.’

‘Get out, Parker. You’re a disgrace to the force.’

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Incensing him further. Wrong move, Lottie.

He rose from his chair, slow and panther-like. She didn’t blink. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Remaining seated, she folded her arms.

‘Do you know, as bad as that display was on national television, it gave me a quiet moment of satisfaction. Because, Parker, you are nothing but trouble, and I’m making it my one and only aim to have you dismissed from the force.’

‘We’ll see about that, shall we?’ She rose languidly and strolled out of his office.

Hearing the door slam behind her, she stopped and sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling, then looked around for Boyd. He was nowhere to be seen.

She grabbed her coat and keys and walked out without a backwards glance.





Eighty-Four





Chloe cooked dinner. Oven chips and burgers. Lottie wolfed down the food and helped her stack the dishwasher.

‘Granny was here earlier,’ Chloe said.

‘The miraculous recovery.’

‘She said she was fed up with your cooking. I don’t think she’s sick any longer. I helped her tidy up here a bit. She even got the hoover out. Insulted me and Sean in the process.’

‘She’s definitely better,’ Lottie laughed.

Chloe smiled, and Lottie felt the tiredness in her bones ease a little. She pulled her daughter into a hug. Sean strolled into the kitchen but quickly turned on his heel with a ‘Yuck!’

‘Would you mind if Boyd came over for a while?’

‘Work stuff?’ Chloe asked.

‘Not really.’ Lottie released her, then closed the dishwasher door and pressed the button.

‘I don’t care.’

And before she could reply, the girl had left the room, slamming the door on her way out.

She rang Boyd. They had things to discuss, and it wasn’t work-related.



* * *



‘What are you dressing up for?’ Chloe plonked herself down on Lottie’s bed. ‘It’s only Boyd.’

‘What about this?’ Lottie asked, holding out a cream blouse.

‘Try the blue dress.’ Chloe folded her arms.

Lottie held it up to her chest. ‘I don’t think it fits me any more.’

‘That’s because you’ve gone to skin and bone. You need to eat.’

‘I do eat.’

‘Junk food. You’re wearing yourself to the bone again.’

‘Again?’ She pulled the blue dress on over her long grey T-shirt.

‘Every time you have a murder case, you forget about yourself. That’s too big for you.’

‘Any other suggestions?’

‘Your jeans and a clean shirt if you can find one.’

‘Chloe, don’t be so mean.’

‘It’s only Boyd, for Christ’s sake. Not Johnny Depp.’

‘I want to look … different from my normal look.’

‘Sounds serious.’

‘You’re right, it’s only Boyd.’ Lottie pulled two shirts off hangers. ‘Which one?’

‘The green one.’

‘That doesn’t go with my eyes.’

‘The white one then.’

‘What’s the matter, Chloe?’ Lottie threw the clothes on the floor and sat beside her daughter. She held her hand. ‘Boy trouble?’