Chapter 20
It felt weird having Boyd under her roof, albeit in a different room.
Lottie pitied him having to deal with the mess at his apartment, especially as she knew all about leaks.
They were a constant in her ramshackle home.
Numerous attempts at shoring up broken roof tiles had failed – all she could afford was patch work.
After the torrential rain last night, she was afraid to go around the house to check.
Maybe if she didn’t look, she wouldn’t find.
She did, however, find Boyd in the kitchen, making a mug of instant coffee.
‘Sorry, I should have asked first,’ he said.
‘Don’t be daft. I’ll have one too.’
‘Toast?’
‘If you can find bread without blue mould,’ she said, ‘I’d love a slice.’
‘I brought a few groceries from my place last night. Toast it is.’
He turned back to the counter, popping slices into the toaster. She couldn’t help staring at him. Boyd had always been lean and trim, but now she could see the bones of his shoulders protruding through his pristine white shirt.
‘Are you okay, Boyd?’
‘I’m as okay as I can be with a flooded apartment.’
‘Your health, I mean? Is it good?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why all the questions?’
‘You look thin.’
‘You know it’s not polite to talk about someone’s weight.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m not sick, if that’s what you’re alluding to.’ He placed a mug of coffee and a plate with two slices of anaemic toast in front of her. ‘You don’t look so hot yourself.’
‘Now who’s being impolite?’ She laughed. It felt good. Good to have him beside her without a scowl on his face. ‘Mark, I’m sorry for messing everything up. Between us, I mean.’
‘I know you are, and it’s fine. We can be friends, can’t we?’
No, she silently screamed. She wanted to be more than just friends. She wanted him to touch her. To hold her. To light the fire within her again. She wanted to tell him all that but she couldn’t find the words. Maybe she was a fool. ‘Sure, but we do need to work through our issues.’
‘Our issues?’ The hazel flecks in his eyes darkened. ‘Last time I checked, they were your issues.’
‘Okay, forget it.’ She took a sip of her coffee. It looked as anaemic as the toast, and tasted of too much milk. ‘I don’t want to argue. Not with a multiple murder case to investigate and a missing child to find.’
He opened his mouth as if to say, there’s the issue right there. Her job came before everything. Then he closed his mouth and nodded.
She did want to address their personal problems, but work was always to the forefront. She couldn’t help the way she was, using it as a coping mechanism, ever since her husband, Adam, had died. ‘Let’s call a truce and eat breakfast.’
‘You call toast and coffee breakfast? Do you not have any fresh fruit or a smoothie maker?’
‘What do you think this is?’ She winked. ‘The Shelbourne?’
‘Ha, you can always dream in bed.’
‘Talking of which, where is Sergio? Hasn’t he to go to school?’
‘Yes. I’ll be taking him, so I won’t make the early-morning briefing.’
‘There’s not much to brief the team on. I’m praying the post-mortem throws up a clue or two.’
‘And Lily Clarke?’ he asked, pouring his coffee down the sink, seemingly as dissatisfied with his as she was with hers.
‘Still no sign. I checked in with the night crew earlier.’
‘Was she taken, or is she scared and hiding somewhere?’
‘I pray it’s the latter. Hopefully SOCOs have something for us this morning.’
‘Did Martina get to talk to you yet?’
‘Yes.’ Lottie recalled the update. ‘Sadie Clarke told her in confidence that her husband hits her. I spoke with Thomas, and though he is a bit of a prick, he seemed sincere about his concern for his daughter’s well-being. I can’t see why he would have anything to do with Lily disappearing.’
‘But you can’t rule him out?’
‘No, I can’t rule him out.’