Page 53 of Hidden Daughters

‘She’s a fucking loose cannon, that woman.’ Mooney stood, then sat again, defeated.

‘Why do you say that?’ Boyd smirked behind his mug. Mooney had his assumption dead right.

‘Because that’s where I was before I went looking for her. Mickey Fox is dead. She phoned to tell me about it. Looks like he was murdered, as far as I can tell. Suspicious anyhow. Damn suspicious. Blow to the back of his head. A lot of blood spilled. And, for good measure, he was doused in some sort of toxic fluid. Burned the shit out of his chest. He hardly did that to himself.’

Boyd felt the blood seep from his face. ‘Lottie could be in danger.’ Panic began to set in. ‘The killer might have taken her,hurt her. Or she could have followed him. Jesus, man, why are you here drinking tea? You should be out searching for her.’

‘She phoned in the incident. She was still there at that stage, as far as I know. Sounded cool as a fucking cucumber.’ Mooney slammed his hand on the table. ‘If she’s off doing a Miss Marple stint, I’ll lock her up.’

‘Good luck with that. But I really think she might be in trouble.’

‘She’s in trouble all right. Interfering with an ongoing investigation. I should arrest her.’

‘You have to find her.’ Boyd felt the blood rush back to his face. Knew he was getting angry. At Mooney or at Lottie? Both, probably. ‘I’ll help you look for her.’

‘Christ Almighty, that’s all I need. Two fucking mavericks traipsing all over my crime scenes and mucking up my investigation. Forget it.’

Mooney stood.

Boyd paced. He’d gone through every emotion, and now a deep-seated worry took root. ‘Christ, if anything’s happened to her, her kids will never forgive me.’

The back door opened and Lottie walked in. Dusty and sweaty. She looked from one to the other. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was about to ask you the same question,’ Mooney bellowed.

‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘you’d wake the dead.’

‘Aye, and that might be no harm.’ He mellowed a little, just a little. ‘The dead might tell me more than you do. What were you doing at Mickey Fox’s caravan?’

‘I wanted to see what he’d been burning when I’d been there earlier. Not that I found out. He was dead when I arrived.’

‘For Christ’s sake, why didn’t you phone me?’

‘I did.’

‘When it was too bloody late. You should have called me when you were there before. And when did you decide to not stay at the scene? It makes you look guilty as fuck.’

‘I didn’t kill the old man, Mooney.’

‘Yeah, well, I have no idea what you did or didn’t do, sister.’

‘Don’t you “sister” me,’ she said.

Boyd watched the interaction with interest, glad he wasn’t on the end of either of their wrath. Lottie was losing her cool – that was if she’d had any to begin with.

She said, ‘There’s someone you should talk to.’

‘And who might that be?’ Mooney raised an eyebrow. Interested now. Anger dissipating. Boyd sagged with relief.

Lottie hesitated, as if debating what to tell him. ‘She’s outside, in my car. Asleep. Traumatised. She won’t tell me who she is. I’m not sure if she has anything to do with the murders, but she’s terrified and told me she had tried to warn Mickey.’

‘Warn him about what?’

‘Maybe that someone was about to kill him? Who knows. She wouldn’t say.’

‘Where did you find this mystery woman?’

‘She was in the trees surrounding the clearing where Mickey’s caravan is situated. She took off when she noticed me. She might have heard me on the phone to you. I followed her to the convent. Brought her back here. Look, Mooney, I promised her I’d keep her safe.’

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