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All she felt was a growing sense of doom.

43

RAGMULLIN

Kirby was loath to get up. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, feeling the strain of working a major case without Lottie’s steady hand to steer him. His sleep had been intermittent, and he’d felt Amy’s elbow in his ribs more times than he could count. She was a restless sleeper too, but somehow managed to always wake up with a smile on her face. As he watched her get dressed in a light pink cotton summer dress, he thought there was a slight strain in her jaw, dark circles round her eyes.

‘You doing okay, Ames?’

‘Yeah, just a bit tired. You twisted and turned all night.’

‘You too.’

‘You kept waking me. Anyhow, doesn’t matter. It will be a good day.’ She zipped up the clunky boots she had to wear. Even though the weather was warm, since her accident these boots were the only footwear she could walk in. ‘I’ll get Sergio his breakfast and bring you up a cuppa before I drop him to school.’

‘I love you, Amy.’

He put out his hand and she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

‘What brought that on?’ She smiled, and it gave him that warm feeling he could not explain to anyone.

‘Well, I do love you. But the conversation I had with Lottie last night made me wonder about some people.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s all hush-hush. Confidential. She asked me to check out Grace Boyd’s fiancé. Bryan O’Shaughnessy.’

‘Are you serious? Their wedding is this week!’

‘I know.’

‘Bit late in the day to check him out.’

‘Better late than never,’ he said.

She leaned in for another peck, and as she left the room, he thought her brow was furrowed deeper than he’d seen it in a while.

He felt a frown crease his own forehead. He had no idea how to advance the investigation into the murder of Edie Butler. A picture of her life was developing as they delved deeper. All so sad. He felt immense sorrow for her, and for her sons’ loss. Edie had been an inoffensive woman, working hard, providing for her boys. A typical good mother. Why had she been murdered? He felt there was a story behind her life he had yet to uncover. He could not fathom it out. Plus, there’d been no sightings of Robert Hayes. It was all a dead end.

He should have discussed it with Lottie.

44

CONNEMARA

After she’d pulled on her jeans, Lottie searched her suitcase for a clean top. She hadn’t packed enough clothes for the week. She’d ask Grace if she could do some laundry later. She went to Boyd’s suitcase and found it empty. Of course. She opened the old pine wardrobe. His clothing was neatly hung. She selected a black M&S T-shirt and slipped it over her head. It would do. Clean. Smelled good. Her trainers would be grand once she gave them a rub of a cloth. Feck it. She put them on and stood.

A sharp knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

Grace plunged into the room in that awkward way she had about her. Hair at the nape of her neck neatly tied with a pink ribbon. Black trousers with an ironed seam, and an immaculate white shirt that cast Lottie in the poor-relation category. She wasn’t even related, but anyhow. She was in awe at how Grace seemed transformed in her natural environment. So different from how she came across whenever she visited Boyd in Ragmullin. Which wasn’t often, she had to admit.

‘We need to talk.’ Grace’s face was severe today, lined, with downturned lips. Her eyes, though, were burning embers.

‘Sure.’ Lottie sat on the bed and tapped the spot beside her.

Grace wrinkled her nose, childlike.