Page 51 of Three Widows

She leaned over and put her hand on his. ‘The thing is, I think I knew her.’

He involuntarily startled. ‘Why would you think that?’

‘A description was issued when you were trying to identify her. Small build. Five foot one. Shoe size four. Reddish hair. Pale skin. People were asked to check on their family and friends to see if anyone was missing.’

‘That’s right.’ He eyed his drink on the table and licked his lips. His mouth felt dry, and he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what Amy said next.

‘Let me show you what’s trending on Twitter.’

‘What has that got to do with Jen… I mean, the dead woman?’

She sat up straight and slapped a hand on her knee. ‘I knew it. It is her.’

‘Who?’

‘The woman I’m thinking of is called Jennifer O’Loughlin.’ She took her phone from her bag. ‘Give me a minute and I’ll find it for you.’

‘Amy, please, stop. I shouldn’t have let that slip.’

‘It’s all over Twitter, so don’t worry.’ She returned her gaze to her phone. ‘There! Told you. It’s up already.’

Kirby took her phone and looked at the screen: #hernamewasJennifer. ‘Shit. I don’t understand. How…?’

‘Her name might have come from someone you interviewed. Or maybe a guard was overheard in a bar or coffee shop. It can’t be avoided nowadays.’ She took the phone back and scrolled through the feed. ‘Poor woman. How did she die?’

Kirby watched as she slipped the phone back into her bag and turned her head towards him in anticipation.

‘Honestly, Amy, don’t ask. I’m sure you’ll read about it soon. I’m sorry.’

Her shoulders relaxed. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I understand about your job, but I do want you to share things with me. Only when you’re allowed to do so. Is that fair?’

‘Sure is.’ He kept his gaze focused on the near-empty glass in his hand. Something about the conversation had dimmed her sparkle. Mustering what he hoped was an engaging expression, he said, ‘So tell me, Amy Corcoran, who is this work colleague who’s hassling you?’

She laughed then. ‘I barely mentioned it and you pick up on it.’

‘That’s why I’m a detective.’

‘So tell me,’ she repeated his words, ‘what are you going to do? Clamp Luke Bray in chains and waterboard him?’

‘If that’s what you want, I’m your man.’ He couldn’t stop his grin. Maybe Amy would be good for him. God knows he could do with someone in his life to make him smile.

32

Kicking off her sandals after she came home from her shop, Helena made her way into the sitting room and threw herself down on the couch. Should she have swung round by Éilis’s house to check if she had returned home? No, she could ring her once she’d had a long, cool shower. First, she needed a glass of wine. The comfortable cushions seemed to swallow her, and she couldn’t find the energy to move.

The doorbell shrieked through her brain and she realised she’d fallen asleep. She hauled herself up from the couch and went to answer the door.

In the hall, she saw a face peering in through the glass panel. She let out a shriek and the face pulled back, but the shadow remained. With the security chain in place, Helena opened the door a crack and then slumped with relief.

‘Jesus, Orla, you scared the heart out of me.’

She shut the door, undid the chain and let the woman in. This was only the second time ever that Orla had been at her home, and she tried not to think of the first time. They’d all been here then. Six months ago.

‘I’m sorry for turning up unannounced. I didn’t know who else to talk to.’

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Yes, whatever you’re having. I can’t believe Jennifer is dead.’