Page 90 of Hidden Daughters (Detective Lottie Parker #15)

Outside on the pavement, Lottie stood with Boyd and watched as Mooney put Imelda into a squad car. A small crowd had gathered on the opposite side of the road, but quickly dispersed as if they were well used to gardaí calling to disturbances.

Mooney turned to her once the car had been driven off. ‘What brought you here?’

‘I wanted to get a feel for Assumpta when she was alive. Imelda had a key to the house. Don’t ask, because I don’t know how she came to have it. I find her hard to believe.’

‘Okay,’ Mooney said. ‘And then what?’

‘Robert Hayes was already in the house. Upstairs. I’d say he most likely broke in the back door or a window. You need to check it.’

‘What was he even doing here?’

‘Looking for notes that he says Assumpta kept about her time with the Sisters of Forgiveness. Personal notes, written in notebooks. Not the official records, which I think Mickey Fox burned.’

‘Why did Fox burn them?’

‘How would I know?’ she said, sharper than she’d intended, then softened. ‘But I suspect he may have been threatened.’

‘Did Hayes find these mystery notes?’

‘No. And the thing is, he claimed vehemently, numerous times, that he did not kill anyone.’

‘They all say that. Innocent until we can prove otherwise.’

‘But… I don’t know, Mooney. What if he’s right? What if Imelda is lying? I don’t trust her. You need to keep a close eye on her.’

‘Don’t you worry your sore head about her.’

‘Before I leave,’ she chanced, ‘is it okay for me to have a look around? I might find those notebooks.’

‘This place was thoroughly searched by my team and SOCOs. If there were any to be found, we would have found them.’

‘All the same…’ She wasn’t giving up that easily.

‘You need to get your head seen to.’

‘My head is fine. I’ve had worse knocks.’

‘You are a tough nut, Inspector Parker. And a dangerous one,’ he added with a smile.

‘You’ll get me fired.’ He rubbed a hand around his bearded chin.

‘Okay then. We’ll give it five minutes, and if we don’t find anything, I’m locking up and going back to HQ to interview the two people of interest in this series of murders. ’

‘I’ll help too,’ Boyd said to Mooney, ignoring Lottie.

She forced herself not to look at him as she climbed the stairs to begin her search. Two could play his game.

While Mooney searched the living room, Boyd followed Lottie upstairs into one of the two bedrooms.

‘At least we know Hayes is locked up,’ he said. ‘No one else can be murdered.’

‘Are you making an effort at small talk?’ she asked.

‘Don’t start, Lottie.’

She relented. ‘Imelda is hiding something from us. From Mooney, I mean. She knows more than she’s letting on.

I wish she’d told me where she’d stashed her documentary recordings.

She probably has them on a USB somewhere.

The answer to everything could be there.

And if we find Assumpta’s notes, they should throw further light on what went on in that laundry. ’

‘It must be related to Gabriel’s death,’ he said. ‘Hayes has to be covering his tracks in relation to it.’

She felt warm inside, being in close proximity to Boyd after all that had happened between them. Maybe their relationship could be rescued.

With one bedroom unfurnished, they split up the other room between them to search. A double bed sporting flower-patterned sheets, one locker containing two pill bottles, vitamins and rosary beads. The only other furniture was a built-in wardrobe.

‘It appears to have been recently decorated,’ Boyd said.

‘Not to my taste,’ Lottie said, shielding her eyes from the floral decor on almost every surface. ‘Where would she hide something that was precious to her?’

‘A lock box at a bank?’

‘I doubt it. If Imelda thought the notes were here, then I think Assumpta mentioned it to her.’

‘We should ask Imelda. Save ourselves time.’

Lottie looked under the bed then sat back on her hunkers. ‘She was anxious to get up here, just before Hayes walked down the stairs.’

‘Do we pull up the carpet and lift floorboards?’

‘Not a bad idea, but Mooney would kill us.’

She moved to the wardrobe. The clothing appeared to be all washed and clean.

Hung neatly by type of item, then size. She pushed the dresses to one side and felt around the back of the wooden frame.

Nothing movable. After a fruitless check of the pockets of jackets and jeans, the clothes swaying over her head, she leaned down and ran her hand over the flooring. ‘Boyd, I think this board is loose.’

He joined her. ‘Yep, it is. Will I get Mooney to come up?’

She wanted to see for herself, but knew Mooney was the one to do it in case they found something that provided evidence. Chain of custody was crucial.

‘Yeah, do.’

She sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

‘The back door was shimmied,’ Mooney said when he shuffled into the small bedroom. ‘I think it’s time you two left this to me.’

‘We’ll move out of your way,’ Lottie said reluctantly, hating not to be the one to do this.

‘I’ve never met a more persistent person in my life.’

He pressed hard on the loose timber and it sprang back. He lifted the board to reveal a small opening. ‘Better not be a mouse nest,’ he said.

Lottie shuddered. ‘Better not or I’m out of here.’

‘Ah-ha. Now I know how to get rid of you,’ Mooney said. He shone a thin flashlight into the opening. ‘I’ll be damned, you were right. These must be Assumpta’s notebooks. I’m not touching or removing them until I get someone to take photos.’

‘I can take photos on my phone,’ Lottie chanced.

‘You could, but you won’t.’

Lottie didn’t want to leave until the SOCOs arrived. Irritated at not being allowed in on the find, she launched into a rant.

‘It’s not fair. I want to know what she wrote,’ she said, marching around outside on the footpath.

‘Forget it.’ Boyd took her car keys. ‘Let’s go to Grace and Bryan’s place.’

‘You do know I’m not welcome there?’

‘For fuck’s sake, Lottie, will you do what you’re told for once in your life?’

‘Jesus, you’d think I was a five-year-old.’

‘You’re bloody well acting like one. Get in.’

‘I’d rather just go to the hotel.’

‘You’ll do what you’re told or I’m calling a taxi for myself.’

‘Fine, then.’

She got in without further protest and opened the glove box. She found a packet of paracetamol and took two, then rested her head on the side window and closed her eyes.

When the car stopped, she was jolted awake outside the farmhouse. She was raging with herself for having fallen asleep.

‘This is going to be awkward,’ she said.

‘Never stopped you before.’

‘God Almighty, you’re like a broken record.’ She got out of the car and slammed the door, the noise reverberating in her skull. Ouch.

A scream came from inside the house.