‘How is Beth doing?’
‘Fine. Father Joe is trying to get her to reconcile with her mother. It’s what Eve wants.’
Boyd walked further into the office. Stood in front of her desk, lines of seriousness etched into his cheekbones. ‘We need to talk, Lottie.’
‘If it’s about Kirby staying at yours, I’ll have a room free in a day or two when the girls leave. He can stay there.’
‘Not about Kirby,’ Boyd said. ‘A serious talk. Let’s meet in the Railway Hotel. Say in half an hour.’
He left before she could object.
She got up and closed the door, then tapped her computer awake.
Stared at the DNA results for Lily. The name of the child’s father.
She had to get her head around it. Made a phone call. Confirmed his location nine years ago, and Fiona’s location back then. Wexford. She tried to recall what she’d read about him when he’d been there. It had come up in a case two years previously. It had to be wrong. But DNA did not lie. She’d sensed a familiarity about Lily’s blue eyes and fair hair, and now she knew why.
She would have to tell him.
The string of Christmas lights looped around the shelf behind the bar seemed to be the only nod to the festive season that Lottie could see. She found Boyd sitting in the corner with two mugs and a pot of coffee on the table. Eve Clarke, on a high stool, was nursing what looked like a gin and tonic, deep in conversation with Steve O’Carroll.
‘Maybe we should have gone to Cafferty’s,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘To get into the spirit of things.’
‘I haven’t much time for that,’ Boyd said.
‘Why not? You used to love the whole Christmas thing and I was the one feeling sorry for myself.’
He laughed quietly, his upturned lips bringing a glow to his eyes that had been lacking for weeks. It was good to have the investigations closed, albeit with a lot of collateral damage. Lottie eyed Eve again, dressed in black to give the impression she was mourning her husband. She wondered if Beth would ever forgive her mother. Not her problem.
She poured the coffee and relaxed on the two-seater, her sore foot resting on a low stool. She felt comforted by Boyd’s proximity.
The noise of traffic whooshed into the bar every time the door opened, bringing with it a sting of cold air. She moved closer still. Resisting the urge to put a hand on his arm, she said, ‘Boyd, remember the question you asked me weeks ago?’
He turned away, picked up his mug of coffee without bringing it to his mouth. ‘About us getting married. Yeah. Lottie, I—’
‘You’ve yet to buy me a ring,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘Boyd. You know I want to marry you. Corny as this sounds, I’m lost without you. I loved Adam and I miss him, but I need to move on. I love you. Getting married will throw up issues at work, but we can get over that. And we’ve yet to decide where to live. My family is squashed into that rented house, but when I get the money from Leo, we can buy something bigger. For all of us. Sean will be ecstatic. And the girls will be too …’ She let her voice trail off.
Boyd hadn’t moved. Hadn’t turned to look at her. His face in silhouette a stolid study of stillness.
Silence filled the void between them. It was so real, she sensed she could put out her hand and touch it. It felt like an invisible wall had sprouted and the normal bar sounds had evaporated.
‘Mark? What’s wrong?’ she said at last. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
She leaned back, creating a physical distance between them. Had he fallen out of love with her? Were her suspicions real? Shit, this was a mess. She was a fool. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to erase the blindness of her heart.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Don’t be fucking sorry!’
She wrapped her arms around her waist so that she didn’t land a punch on his jaw, trying to keep the hot flush of anger from exploding. She quickly lost that battle.
‘I’m the one who’s sorry, for making a total shithead of myself,’ she said. ‘Go on. Take your fucking week off and see your new … woman … friend or whatever. She’s welcome to you. I’ll manage just fine without you. I’ve done so since Adam died. I can keep on—’
‘Lottie! Why do you assume everything is about you?’ Boyd’s voice was no longer soft. Instead it was tinged with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Are you really that insecure?’
Fighting the urge to lash out, she clamped her lips shut. Tried to keep her tears locked behind stony eyes. She’d been such a fool to lose her heart to him.
He put down the mug, then turned and unwound her arms from her waist, holding one of her hands in his own.
‘I don’t want to hurt you, Lottie. I know you’ve gone through terrible pain and grief in the last few years. You’ve struggled with so much. Through Adam’s illness, his death, raising your three beautiful, disruptive kids …’ He paused, and she smiled despite herself. ‘You uncovered your tragic family history and now you’ll have time to benefit from it, once Leo comes through.’
‘Provided he doesn’t change his mind.’
‘And then there’s Rose. No matter how much she annoys you, I know you rely on her. She’s your rock, Lottie, don’t abandon her.’
‘What the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand. What are you—’
‘Shh. Let me have my say.’ He released her hand, took a mouthful of cold coffee.
Her heart pounded in her ears. She was sure Steve and Eve at the bar could hear it too. A prickle of fear pushed goose bumps up on her arms like pimples. A portent of what was to come?
‘I haven’t been honest with you,’ he said.
Here it comes, she thought, her fear replaced with an anger so potent it caused her cheeks to burn. The other-woman story. Don’t cry, Lottie. Don’t you fucking cry, she warned herself. Fuck! She wanted to cry. To run. To escape. But there was something so sad about Boyd, sitting there clutching a mug of cold coffee, that she couldn’t move.
‘Go on,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me. I’m a big girl. I can take it. What’s her name?’
‘Will you stop for a minute?’ He put down the mug and looked at her. ‘You’ve gone through this before and that’s what makes this so difficult. Lottie, I love you, I truly do, but …’
There were tears in his eyes. Clinging to his beautiful eyelashes. His thin face with its perfect jawline was trembling. She dared not look away.
‘I love you,’ he said again, ‘but I can’t put you through this. It’s my battle and I have to do my best to fight it. Alone.’
‘I don’t understand. You’re talking in riddles. You’re like scratched vinyl on an old record player.’ She wanted to make light of what he was saying, because she suspected it was something so serious she did not want to know it.
He stared into her eyes with such intensity that she blinked, and tears dripped down her face in rhythm with his.
‘You have to understand,’ he said. ‘Those trips to Galway … I don’t have another woman. Believe me, that would make this much easier.’
‘What then?’ She asked the question though she was not sure she wanted to hear the answer.
He moved his head slightly, and she thought he was going to rest it on her shoulder, but instead he turned to face her. Gazed into her eyes and said what he’d come to tell her.
‘I was attending a clinic.’
‘For your OCD?’ She tried to be blasé because she knew with every sinew in her being what he was going to say.
And then he said it.
‘Lottie, I’ve got leukaemia.’
Chapter Sixty-Eight
On the shore of Lough Doon, Lottie stood with Father Joe by her side. The water rippled on the surface in December’s icy breeze. She looked out as far as the eye could see. All grey, a mirror of the sky above her head, reflecting the dull thud in her heart. Four swans swam close to the shore, whistles breaking fr
om their beaks.
‘Those swans are like the Children of Lir,’ she said.
He laughed. ‘Who?’
‘It’s folklore. Four children turned into swans and abandoned for nine hundred years, condemned to spend three hundred of them on Lough Doon. They only had music for their voices.’
‘Not much fun in that story.’
‘I’m devastated, Joe,’ she said earnestly.
‘Will you shush, woman. You still don’t know how bad it is. Boyd doesn’t either, not until he has his consultation next week. Don’t jump off any bridges yet.’
She smiled and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. She looked up at the sky, pleading for divine intervention. Something to give her guidance. She thought she could hear an aeroplane flying somewhere above the clouds. Taking her girls and her grandson to America. Her family. Her responsibility.
‘I’d better get home to Sean.’
‘Sean will be fine.’
‘He loves Boyd. They’re soulmates, especially if there’s sport or a computer game involved.’ She suppressed a sob. ‘I still want to marry Boyd.’
‘What does he say?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s gone home to his mother and sister. He doesn’t want me at his next consultation. Joe, what if he has to have chemotherapy? I saw what it did to Adam. It will kill him. It will kill me.’
‘Stop,’ he said, and she thought he sounded just like Boyd. ‘It won’t kill either of you. You are both strong people. Trust in yourself. You’ve been through it before. You’ll get through it again.’
‘It’s different. With Adam, I didn’t know what we’d be going through. It was the unknown. Now I know how … how horrible it is. How can I find the strength to watch Boyd die?’
She felt the priest’s arm move around her shoulder and pull her to his side. ‘Boyd might look scrawny and fragile, but he’s a champion. Trust, Lottie, trust.’
She smiled at his description of Boyd even as she cried into the still air. She tried to focus through her tears, staring at the swans, their voices now muted by the frantic thud in her chest. ‘Oh God, I don’t know what to do. I’ve been broken and hurt so often.’
‘Do you truly love him?’
‘Yes, even though he irritates the shit out of me at times.’
Father Joe laughed. But it wasn’t hearty. She thought it was a sorrowful sound.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve been so selfish. You must be heartbroken over Fiona.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I only knew her for a short time, all those years ago in Wexford.’ He looked wistfully out at the water. ‘Thank you for telling me about Lily. I never knew I had a daughter. Fiona just disappeared off to Dublin and I returned to the priesthood after my sabbatical. If I’d known, I’d have been a good father.’ He swallowed a sob.
Lottie put her hand on his arm. ‘What are you going to do about her?’
‘I’ve no idea yet. One thing I’m sure of is that she will not be abandoned like the Children of Lir.’
‘She’s in foster care for now. She’s with a good family. Have you seen her?’
‘No. I don’t know what to do or how to do it. But I can’t let her grow up in care, no matter how good it is. I never knew my own mother and it haunted me. Lily is my daughter and I want to be in her life.’
‘I’ll help you all I can.’
‘And I’ll help you. Come on. I know where I’m taking you.’
‘Where?’ She felt his hand slip though the crook of her arm.
‘Home. You’re going to pick up Sean and drive to Galway to be with Boyd.’
As they walked away from the lake, Lottie took one last look over her shoulder.
The swans were swimming away from the shore, gliding gracefully, a trail of diamonds glinting in their wake, until the waters were once again still.
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Books by Patricia Gibney
The Detective Lottie Parker series
1. The Missing Ones
2. The Stolen Girls
3. The Lost Child
4. No Safe Place
5. Tell Nobody
6. Final Betrayal
7. Broken Souls
Available in Audio
The Detective Lottie Parker series
1. The Missing Ones (Available in the UK and the US)
2. The Stolen Girls (Available in the UK and the US)
3. The Lost Child (Available in the UK and the US)
4. No Safe Place (Available in the UK and the US)
5. Tell Nobody (Available in the UK and the US)
6. Final Betrayal (Available in the UK and the US)
A Letter from Patricia
Hello, dear reader,
Sincere thanks to you for reading my seventh novel, Broken Souls. If you enjoyed the book and would like to join my mailing list to be kept informed of my new releases, please click here:
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I’m so grateful to you for sharing your precious time with Lottie Parker, her family and her team. I hope you enjoyed the read and I’d love it if you could follow Lottie throughout the series of novels. To those of you who have already read the first six Lottie Parker books, The Missing Ones, The Stolen Girls, The Lost Child, No Safe Place, Tell Nobody and Final Betrayal, I thank you for your support and reviews.
I hate asking, but it would be fantastic if you could post a review on Amazon or Goodreads, or indeed, on the site where you purchased the book. It would mean so much to me. And thank you for the reviews received so far.
You can connect with me on my Facebook author page and Twitter. I also have a blog, which I try to keep up to date.
Thanks again, and I hope you will join me for book eight in the series.
Love,
Patricia
www.patriciagibney.com
The Missing Ones
Detective Lottie Parker Book 1
Buy it now!
The hole they dug was not deep. A white flour bag encased the little body. Three small faces watched from the window, eyes black with terror.
The child in the middle spoke without turning his head. ‘I wonder which one of us will be next?’
When a woman’s body is discovered in a cathedral and hours later a young man is found hanging from a tree outside his home, Detective Lottie Parker is called in to lead the investigation. Both bodies have the same distinctive tattoo clumsily inscribed on their legs. It’s clear the pair are connected, but how?
The trail leads Lottie to St Angela’s, a former children’s home, with a dark connection to her own family history. Suddenly the case just got personal.
As Lottie begins to link the current victims to unsolved murders decades old, two teenage boys go missing. She must close in on the killer before they strike again, but in doing so is she putting her own children in terrifying danger?
Lottie is about to come face to face with a twisted soul who has a very warped idea of justice.
Fans of Rachel Abbott, Karin Slaughter and Robert Dugoni will be gripped by this page-turning serial killer thriller, guaranteed to keep you reading late into the night.
Get it here!
The Stolen Girls
Detective Lottie Parker Book 2
Order it now!
The young woman standing on Lottie’s step was a stranger. She was clutching the hand of a young boy. ‘Help me,’ she said to Lottie. ‘Please help me’.
One Monday morning at dawn, a young woman and her son visit the house of Detective Lottie Parker, begging for help to find a lost friend. The same day, the body of a young pregnan
t woman is found.
Could this be the same girl?
When another victim is discovered by the same man, with the murder bearing all the same hallmarks as the first, Lottie needs to work fast to discover how else the two were linked. Then two more girls go missing.
Detective Lottie Parker is a woman on the edge, haunted by her tragic past and struggling to keep her family together through difficult times. Can she fight her own demons and catch the killer before he claims another victim?
The Stolen Girls is a gripping and page-turning thriller that will leave you breathless. Perfect for fans of Rachel Abbott, Karin Slaughter and Robert Dugoni.
Get it here!
The Lost Child
Detective Lottie Parker Book 3
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They placed me in here and threw away the key. I look down at the gown they’ve put on me. I want my own clothes. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.
An elderly woman is found murdered in her own home, and Detective Lottie Parker and her partner Detective Boyd are called in to investigate. When they discover that the victim’s daughter is missing as well, they start to fear for the safety of the whole family…
Broken Souls: An absolutely addictive mystery thriller with a brilliant twist (Detective Lottie Parker Book 7) Page 35