Chapter 66

SIXTY-SIX

They didn’t say much. Katie or Chloe. That worried Lottie. It was as if they had bonded in the hours they’d been held captive and were keeping her outside that experience. They seemed determined to ensure she remained outside.

Katie was sitting on the couch with Louis asleep in her arms, and Chloe was lying with her head on Katie’s lap. They’d been injected with a concoction of drugs by Megan Price, none of which had lasting medical effects. Lottie wondered when, if ever, the psychological effects would evaporate. Easing the door closed, she stood in the hall listening. Boyd was upstairs with Sean. Playing a computer game, no doubt.

Making her way to the kitchen, she felt the unease of failure settling like a wet blanket on her shoulders. Failure at being a good mother.

As she filled the kettle to make tea, she knew what she really wanted was an alcoholic drink, but she had lasted so far without falling back into that bad habit, so tea was all she would drink.

Kirby had recovered quickly and had been back in the office the next day, even more morose than in the weeks following Gilly’s death. Lottie had yet to deal with his error in not searching Amy’s locker. In one of the tunnels, McGlynn had discovered Amy and Louise’s handbags, and bloodstained clothing most likely used by Megan.

She was glad that McKeown had settled in well with the team, and was looking forward to having him working with Maria Lynch when she was back from maternity leave. That was if McMahon allowed her to remain as detective inspector. She’d asked Cynthia Rhodes to have a word with him, to make him think it was Cynthia’s idea to run the missing persons news report on Katie and Chloe. She now owed Cynthia big-time. There was also the question of a review being conducted into Conor Dowling’s conviction and Superintendent Corrigan’s role. But judging by past experience, Lottie knew that could take years.

Leo Belfield was recovering, and Rose had said he could stay with her until he was able to return to America. Lottie was acutely aware that Leo was her last remaining biological relative. Something she needed to address, but not right now.

She thought of Megan Price, who was in Mountjoy women’s prison awaiting trial. The loss of four young lives just because Megan felt betrayed by Conor Dowling and the whole damn world. So many families shattered, and for what? It surely wasn’t love, Lottie thought. Conor had been arrested for the death of Hannah Lee and Tony Keegan had been arrested in connection with the assault and robbery of Bill Thompson. Both were out on bail.

Lottie sighed wearily as Boyd came into the kitchen.

‘All okay?’ he asked.

‘Things can only get better.’ She smiled at him and took mugs down from the cupboard. ‘I have two IKEA cabinets upstairs, still flat-packed, if you’re at a loose end.’

He was looking shifty, rubbing his hands into each other. ‘Lottie, I’ve something to ask you.’

‘I’m busy. Can’t it wait?’

‘Busy? You’re just making tea. And no, it can’t wait.’

‘Go ahead so.’ She put tea bags into the mugs.

He came to stand in front of her, turned her to face him. She felt the touch of his skin on her hand. ‘It’s kind of awkward. I’ve only ever said this once before, and that didn’t work out the way it was supposed to.’

‘Boyd, get a move on. I want a cup of tea and I need to get into the office for a few hours. I’ve so much paperwork to do, the rainforests are in mortal danger of extinction.’

‘I think they are anyway, with or without you.’

Lottie stared at his bruised and battered face. She hoped he wasn’t looking for a transfer. No, it definitely was not the time to ask for a transfer.

‘I’m listening,’ she said, and silently prepared her speech as she folded her arms and leaned back against the counter.

He grabbed her hand again and held it to his lips.

‘Lottie, will you marry me?’

‘What did you say?’ She felt his hand tighten on hers.

‘Will you marry me?’

Nervous laughter crept up her throat. ‘Boyd, I think that knock on your head was more serious than you thought. You should have had the MRI like the doctors wanted. I don’t want you passing out on the job and?—’

‘Will you stop talking for a minute?’

She clamped her lips tightly shut and felt her eyes widening in disbelief. Had he really said what she thought he’d said?

‘I’m serious,’ he told her.

‘I don’t know what to say, Boyd. This is so sudden …’

His voice sounded more determined. ‘I’ve been thinking about asking you for the last year. I wanted to ask you many times, but I never had the courage.’

‘So what changed?’

‘When that crane came down, I stared death in the face and woke up.’

‘Is that from Shakespeare or someone?’

He rolled his eyes and put an arm either side of her, his hands on the counter. She could feel the heat from his body and it charged through her own. She didn’t know where to look.

‘I know this isn’t the most romantic setting, but it’s so difficult to get you on your own without an audience, and to get you in a good mood.’

‘This is my good mood?’ She tried to still the racing in her heart. ‘Christ, Boyd, you don’t know me at all.’

‘I think I know you better than you know yourself. So, is it to be or not to be? And that is Shakespeare.’

‘You crack me up.’ Should she run or should she stay? Oh God, she didn’t know what to do.

‘I’m serious.’ He didn’t take his eyes off hers.

‘Jesus, Boyd.’ Emotions churned so quickly, she felt them tumbling around in her stomach. An ache spread across her chest and she didn’t know if it was physical or emotional. What did she want? She had no idea.

‘Say something,’ he said, tugging at his clean-shaven scarred chin.

‘I … I don’t know what I want. Thank you. Oh God, Mark, thank you for asking me, but I need to think about it.’

‘What do you need to think about? We’re not getting any younger. Life is dangerous and unpredictable.’

‘ I’m dangerous and unpredictable.’

‘You’re right there.’ He smiled and her heart thumped a little faster.

Yes, she wanted Boyd. But did she want him all the time? Every day. Every minute of the day? She needed time.

‘Okay. Take time to think about it,’ he said.

She took his hands in hers and squeezed. ‘Thank you.’

‘I love you, Lottie.’

She didn’t answer. Just stared at him. He took a deep breath, feathered a kiss on her lips, then turned and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. She heard the soft thud of the door closing.

She stared at the empty space he’d left in his wake. Alone, she sat down and thought of all she had wanted to say to him and hadn’t.

She hoped it wasn’t too late.

If you were gripped from the get-go by Final Betrayal , then you will be hooked on Patricia’s next book, Broken Souls , featuring brides being murdered just before their wedding days – Lottie’s toughest case yet…