Page 72 of Her Last Walk Home

‘I don’t mean to be rude, but I need a break from you as well. Won’t be long. And really, I think you’d be better off back at the station helping with the investigation. You’d be more useful there than making unwanted cups of tea here.’

‘If you don’t mind waiting for a moment?’ Martina had her phone in her hand. ‘I want to show you a photograph. It’s sensitive.’

Diana felt her stomach roil. ‘Show me.’

‘I must warn you, it’s a photograph of a dead woman.’

‘Do you think she’s connected to Laura?’ Diana felt her heart race in her chest.

‘I just need you to look at it if you can and?—’

‘It can’t be any worse than viewing the body of my own poor girl.’ Diana gulped and closed her eyes momentarily before taking the phone from Martina. When she opened them, she glanced down. Her heart rate quickened. She shook her head quickly and handed the phone back.

‘Do you recognise her?’

Diana couldn’t answer. After another head shake, she took Aaron’s hand and the stroller from the hall and was outside before the guard could object.

She strapped him in securely and set off, walking briskly. She had no destination in mind; she just wanted to be away from the cloying memories and the thought that Laura’s death was all her fault. And then there was that photograph. Dear God, what had happened to her? She pushed it to the back of her mind. She had to think of her own situation first.

It hadn’t always been just her and Laura and Aaron. No. As she walked, she felt tears flood her eyes. Memories she’d hidden so deep she had almost forgotten them began to resurface. But here she was back in Ragmullin, and she’d lost Laura. Her daughter had grown into a beautiful, intelligent, vibrant young woman. And somehow even though she knew it was her fault, she couldn’t help blaminghim. If he’d taken responsibility all those years ago, she wouldn’t have had to leave then. Why had she ever come back to this godforsaken place?

‘Can I get some sweets in Tesco?’

The little voice broke through her reverie. Wiping away her tears, she leaned over and gripped his hand. ‘Sure, Aaron. We can get all the sweets you want.’

She would have to leave everything behind. She’d done it before and she knew what she had to do now.

First, though, she needed a plan.

With nothing yet on the second dead woman, Lottie decided to do what she could about John Morgan.

She called the landline number Brenda had given her for her ex-husband’s work in Australia. She was put through to his boss, who confirmed that Christy Morgan was indeed on site and gave Lottie his mobile number.

‘I heard about his son. Awful business.’

‘How is Christy taking it?’

‘Badly. I didn’t want to let him work, but he assured me it was best to keep busy. He said he’ll need time off when the funeral is organised.’

‘I’ll contact him later. Thank you.’

When she hung up, Lottie wondered where to turn to next. Gordon Collins maybe. The site manager, Patrick Curran, had been cleared, but she still had to talk to Collins herself.

54

He was surprised whenshearrived home not long after she’d left. It made him fearful.

‘I can’t believe what you did,’ she snarled. ‘You practically laid a trail to our front door. What were you thinking? It’s all over the news. You fucking eejit. I told you to bury her body miles away from here. You couldn’t follow a simple instruction, you moron. What will I do now?’

A shrug of his shoulder elicited a smack on the back of his head. It actually felt better to be physically attacked than the verbal abuse she expelled in his direction.

‘Answer me!’

‘I messed up. But the truth is, she’s dead. She can’t talk. There’s nothing for you to worry about.’ He cowered then, because he rarely stood up for himself.

‘Nothing to worry about? How can you be so stupid? There could be DNA or a fibre or something on the body. What if they link her back to here? To us? They’ll find out who she is and when she disappeared, and… and then what?’

‘I don’t know.’ He wondered why she was so flustered. He’d never seen her like this.

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