Page 110 of The Guilty Girl

‘I will.’

‘Why don’t you phone Outback and get a Sunday lunch takeaway. Your granny likes their roast beef.’

‘Sure, but I’ll need your bank card.’

As Lottie rooted around in her bag, she noticed Lucy’s phone in its evidence bag and realised how much she had to do. Eventually she found her credit card at the bottom, a lollipop stuck to it. God only knew where she’d find her debit card.

‘This is for the restaurant use only. Are we clear?’

‘Got it.’ Chloe smirked.

When Sean was ready, Lottie was glad to leave her warring daughters behind, but she was worried about Rose. She felt torn at having to return to work, unable to stay at home to care for her mother.

Her headache increased in intensity.

At the station, she rushed Sean up the stairs, physically pushing him along the corridor until they were safely in her office.

‘What was that all about?’ he said.

‘I’m hiding from Superintendent Farrell.’

‘Because of me?’

‘Don’t worry about it. Sit there while I load these photos.’

‘What photos?’

‘Give me a minute.’ Once she had the relevant crime-scene photo open on the computer desktop, she said, ‘Before I show you this, I want to try something. You game?’

‘Sure.’

‘Good. Close your eyes for a moment.’ She waited for him to object, but he acquiesced to her request without complaint. There was no way either of her girls would be so compliant. They’d have to have an argument about it first.

This was something she’d read about but had never tried. Or maybe she’d seen it on Netflix. Whatever, God loved a trier.

‘This is like a therapy session,’ Sean said.

‘Good. Take yourself back to four a.m. yesterday. Visualise yourself walking through the doorway of Lucy’s house.’

‘Okay.’

‘Tell me everything you see as you go in to search for your jacket.’

‘I told you this already, but if it helps …’ Sean’s body relaxed, legs crossed at the ankles, arms loose on his knees. ‘The hall carpet is a mess. There’s no jackets or coats hanging up. I move to the kitchen. Bottles and glasses everywhere. No sign of my jacket. I go into the living room. The state of the place. One of the patio doors is smashed. That’s when I notice the wall and the floor and the blood. It scares the shite out of me.’ He paused, his breathing shallow.

‘Did you look around? Search for your jacket? Do you see anything out of place?’

‘I don’t see my jacket. That’s when I hear a noise on the stairs.’

‘What does it sound like?’

‘Footsteps.’

‘Anything else at all?’

‘Voices, but I don’t wait to find out. I cut my stick and run into the kitchen.’ Sean opened his eyes. ‘That’s it. I’ve no idea who it was, but I definitely heard voices.’

‘Male or female?’