Page 97 of The Guilty Girl

‘She’s my daughter.’

That brought her up sharp. ‘Really? She’s married to Richie, the DJ?’

‘My Brontë could’ve had the pick of anyone, but no, she goes and marries a loser.’

‘No love lost there, then?’

‘I love my daughter dearly. That’s all I have to say on the matter.’ He slipped his phone out of his pocket. ‘Now if you’re finished, I’ve calls to make.’

‘I’ll let you get on with it,’ Lottie said, thinking she was far from finished.

She’d need to be armed with more than suspicion to take it any further. However, Barney Reynolds, his daughter and her husband had all slotted into the cross hairs of her investigation.

* * *

I am all a-flap. Worried.

That little fecker’s death is all over the news. His body was found too soon after Lucy’s. I need to speed up if I am to claim the ultimate prize for myself. Magpies can swoop in and plunder a nest without fear, so why have I waited this long? I need to flap my majestic wings and grab her for myself. Young and untouched until my hands caress her soft flesh. To inhale her youthful scent. To send me into wild oblivion. But the scent is never enough, like when I found photos were no longer enough to satisfy me. Videos sufficed for a time, but then they too waned in their appeal. I might be a voyeur, but I’m also a thief. A thief watches, makes sure the coast is clear and then dives in and steals the treasure. Like the magpie.

And I am the magpie. A plunderer of nests. Once my eyes latch on to a treasure, I snatch it for myself without delay.

With that thought my worry flies away, leaving me with a solid conviction. It is my time.

Beware, pretty one, I am swooping in low and fierce. For you.

45

Hannah’s mother had booked a taxi to bring her home from the hospital because she couldn’t get out that early with Olly. She’d been discharged at seven a.m. They needed the beds, the nurse had told her, and the gardaí said it was okay to go home and stay there, for now.

‘They won’t give me the results of the blood tests,’ she told Babs once she was inside the door.

The apartment felt smaller, even though she’d only been in hospital for one night. Was it because she’d been in a clean, sterile ward that made her detest the state of her home? She still felt nauseous and disorientated.

‘Once the hospital have your results, the guards will get them,’ Babs said, clattering dishes and banging cutlery against the edge of the sink.

‘Surely there’s data protection or something. I have a right to get my own results.’

‘You have a right to absolutely nothing at the moment. They are out to charge you with Lucy’s murder, so you better come up with a better defence than data bloody protection.’

Hannah hadn’t seen her mother this angry or nervy since she’d started AA a year ago. She moved closer to the sink, where Babs was torturing her hands under hot water, and sniffed.

Babs swung around, water flying everywhere. ‘And you needn’t be at that. I wasn’t drinking, though I was this close.’

Hannah knew her mother was desperately trying not to cry. Olly obliged with a scream and threw his Thomas engine against the wall.

‘Amuse him, Hannah. I can’t cope with him today.’

Hannah knelt on the floor and played trains with her little brother, keeping her eyes fixed to her mother’s back. It was obvious Babs thought she had killed Lucy.

If her mother didn’t believe in her, what hope did she have?

46

Lottie took Garda Brennan with her to Jake Flood’s house.

She’d dropped Kirby off at the station, telling him to liaise with Lei when the garda returned, and to investigate the kids dealing drugs. She needed to know if there was anything on the radar linking them to the youth boxing club. Hannah had been sent home from the hospital, but there was still no word on what drugs had been in her system. Lottie would have to check on her once she was finished with Liz Flood.

Sharon opened the door. ‘Mam is asleep. She cried all night. Don’t wake her.’

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