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‘But what if he’s involved in all this?’ She wasn’t going to tell Boyd that he’d changed his tune, but that was what it sounded like.

‘Involved in all what? The murder of an unidentified woman in a holiday cottage? Or the murder of an old man who lived in a caravan in the middle of a forest? Or do you mean the disappearance of a mystery woman you claim you found wandering around an old convent?’ His voice rose with each question. ‘Which of those do you think Bryan is involved in?’

Throwing back the covers, she pulled on her jeans and tugged a hoodie over her head. ‘You are impossible when you’re like this,’ she snapped.

‘I reiterate, pot and kettle.’

‘Oh, shut up. I’m going for a walk.’

‘It’s nearly dark out.’

‘I’m a big girl. I’m not afraid of the dark.’

A furious rage bubbled beneath her skin, and she knew the only way to contain it was to escape. Otherwise she might just permanently damage her relationship with Boyd.

She left him sitting on the bed with awhat did I do now?look on his face, and went out into the stillness of the night.

Hugging her arms around her body, Lottie walked over to the barn, then back again.

It was dark here at the edge of the world. Darker than in Ragmullin, where light pollution coloured the sky a shitty yellow. At her own house, located in the countryside by a lake, the moon often reflected off the water. Tonight, it wasn’t yet high enough in the sky to sprinkle its magic dust over the land and sea, casting a light to follow. It was too dark. Like her mood.

The Atlantic Ocean, crisp and rowdy in the distance, sounded like the turmoil raging in her chest. Her opinion had changed over the last twenty-four hours. She wasn’t sure if she trusted Bryan O’Shaughnessy. She had yet to be convinced about his true intentions, and she sensed that something sinister could be afoot.

God, she sounded like a character out of an Agatha Christie novel. If only she could enlist the help of a current-day Poirot to do some digging on her behalf. No way was Boyd going to help her out, and she understood that. Didn’t she? Not really, if she was being honest. If it was her sister, she’d want to be sure the girl wasn’t making a mistake.

Yes, she was worried for Grace Boyd. The young woman was an open book. Vulnerable, despite her best attempts to proveotherwise. Easy to manipulate. To take advantage of. To lie to. Lottie could not stand by and watch her be deceived.

She moved around the outside of the house. Leaning on a low stone wall, she gazed out into the dark void of unfamiliar land. Pulling out her phone, she made a call. It was answered straight away.

‘Boss?’

‘Kirby, how are you doing?’

‘Up to my lugs. Good to hear from you. Amy spoke with Boyd earlier and he had a chat with Sergio. That lad is a dream of a child. He has helped Amy so much. You should see them every evening sitting at the table doing his homework.’

‘Amy is doing his homework?’

‘Nah,’ he laughed, ‘she’s helping him. He’s a bright spark, that boy.’

‘Not a bit like his dad then.’ She was half joking, half in earnest.

‘Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?’

She didn’t reply to that. ‘Kirby, can I ask you to do something on the quiet for me?’

‘Sure, if I can.’

‘It has to be between us two only.’

‘Of course. Goes without saying.’

‘This man Grace is marrying, Bryan O’Shaughnessy, can you run a background check on him?’

Kirby paused, silent for a moment. ‘Does Boyd know about this?’

‘No. I’m just worried… I don’t want her to make a huge mistake.’

‘Do you think she might be about to?’