Page 113 of The Guilty Girl

Boyd drank quickly. ‘Gracias.’

‘I have English. Do you speak any Spanish?’

‘Very little.’ Once he’d regained his composure, Boyd was at a loss to understand why a detective had been tasked with following him and Sergio. Then it dawned on him. Bloody Jackie! ‘If this is to do with my ex-wife, I may as well tell you I don’t know where she is or what she’s done. She disappeared without a word, leaving our son behind.’

‘Sergio is your son?’

‘You know all about him if you’ve been tailing me.’

‘Tailing?’

‘Following me.’

‘I should not tell you, but you are right. I follow you.’

‘Why?’ Boyd glared.

‘Okay, okay.’ Lopez flapped his hands in the air like a startled bird. ‘It is how you say, something to do with your ex-wife. Please do not ask.’

‘If you don’t tell me, I’m heading to the nearest police station to report you for harassing me.’

‘Please, señor, I cannot tell.’

Boyd pushed back his chair and stood. Lopez put out a hand, gesturing for him to stay.

Relenting, Boyd sat and blew on his coffee. He hoped Sergio didn’t wake up, but he couldn’t leave until the Spanish detective gave him an explanation.

‘Okay. I tell you.’

‘Go on.’

‘We do not know where Señora Jackie is. We think you might lead us to her or she will come back for the boy.’

‘And why are you interested in her?’ Boyd sipped the cooled coffee and wondered just how much Jackie had dirtied her bib in Spain. The sky was her limit, and even then he knew she’d find a way to fly higher while fucking someone over.

‘Señora Jackie, she help the policía. Her information is good and we catch criminals. But now she is gone. Where? We do not know.’

Boyd found it hard to believe. But then she had helped him with a recent investigation into illegal human organ harvesting. Had she permanently turned over a new leaf? If so, why couldn’t she be honest with him? And why had it taken her so long to inform him of Sergio’s existence?

The picture began to clear. Could Jackie be in trouble? Was she using him to get Sergio out of the country? Then, when she felt safe enough, she’d send for him or travel to Ireland and take him back. Boyd knew that was something a selfish woman like Jackie would do.

‘Señor Boyd, I see you are angry. But it is not what you think.’

‘How in God’s name do you know what I’m thinking? That woman only does what benefits herself. No matter what you think you know, she’s in the game for what she can get out of it.’

‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Sure.’

‘Did you meet Señora Jackie here when you arrived from Ireland?’

‘Briefly. She left once I arrived. I don’t know where she is now and I don’t understand what’s going on. You’d better explain.’

‘I speak to my superior officers. I will inform you what they say. But you must tell me what you know about Señor McAllister and Señor Starr. You were in Señor McAllister’s apartment. I need to know why.’

Boyd decided to tell him the truth, which wasn’t a whole lot.

‘My inspector, Lottie Parker, phoned me from Ireland. The daughter of Albert and Mary McAllister was found murdered. I was trying to discover what I could about them and why they’d just spent three weeks here.’