the card Pat sent me. His mind has become twisted from years of sheltering someone else’s secrets. Pat thought he was warning me by sending the card. Did he not know it would scare me, send me down a road tortured with fear and paranoia? Not knowing who I could trust?
I thought Fintan would have called me by now. Maybe Conor is on his way back. Fintan might be driving him home at this very moment. Or is that just me being optimistic? Trying to think positive. Putting all those sessions with the therapist to good use.
But who am I kidding? Everything points to Conor. The text. Leaving the house in the middle of the night. And now the big motive. Vicky was his sister. Vicky was entitled to half of everything.
But still, something doesn’t seem right. I don’t believe that Conor would kill someone. He never even wanted the brewery. He wanted to go to college, not bottle beer. Ironic that Vicky was the one going to college. I wonder what she thought when she found out she owned half of the beer she was selling behind the bar every night. Ripped off maybe? Excited? Afraid? A tsunami of emotions brought to shore by one strong gust of wind, the truth.
I notice the lights of a car coming down the road. I stand and move closer to the window. Is it them? Is Conor coming home? I remember to smile at Shay before looking out to see the car passing the entrance.
I think of Maggie. What will she think when she hears about Vicky? Her husband was a cheat. Was it just a once off or were there other women? Did Maggie know and decide to live with it, hiding her pain behind lipstick smiles and fancy fur coats? Or is she about to have her heart broken?
The night has never looked so dark and rain is beginning to fall. I burp Shay, change his nappy and put him down to rest. I switch the mobile toy on above his head and leave the room.
The house feels eerie, like it’s waiting for something to invade it. Something unwelcome. I go down to the kitchen and take a bottle of red wine from the wine rack. I’m pouring some into the glass when I think of blood. Splattered blood, pools of blood. Jamie. I empty the glass into the sink and switch on the kettle. A thought enters my head. Conor could have killed Vicky. Why am I so convinced he didn’t? I’ve only known him a little over a year. He was able to hide the beer smuggling from me. Maybe he didn’t want Vicky to find out about that. There would have been a big audit, a big dividing of the wares, and Conor’s little black-market empire would have been discovered. Oh Christ, what if that’s true? What if Conor is guilty?
The rain is pelting down now. I make myself a cup of coffee and move over to where the laptop is. Maybe the photos on the USB will divert suspicion from Conor. After all, Noel had a motive too. Vicky’s photos could have cost him his home, his wife, his career, leaving him with nothing. I’m glad now that I gave the USB to Fintan.
I check my phone, still nothing. I’m about to call the station again when the front doorbell rings. I rush to open it and find Detective Fintan Ryan standing there. But there’s no Conor.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Yes, yes.’ Standing back, I direct Fintan into the kitchen. His jacket is soaked. His face is grey. I’ve a million questions and yet nothing comes out of my mouth. I wait for him to speak.
‘Are you okay?’ he says. I nod, staring at his lips, eager for him to say more. ‘Conor is okay Laura, he’s doing okay, considering.’
‘Is he coming home?’ I say.
Fintan shakes his head. ‘Not yet, they’re not finished with him. I just wanted to ask you something.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, it’s just about the USB you gave me earlier. I was having a look at it down at the station and well…’ Fintan wipes the dripping rain from his forehead. ‘Where did you get that Laura?’
‘What?’
‘The USB, where did it come from?’
I feel myself turning red, heat washing in waves over my body. I promised Amanda I wouldn’t mention her name. ‘Someone put it through the letterbox, I don’t know who. Why? Was it helpful?’
‘Very.’
I take a deep breath and relax. They’re now going to