They know damn well he is, but they’re letting Conor know he might be king of the village but he’s no one to them.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ he says before turning to me. ‘Laura, go back inside.’
I’m stuck to the spot, unable to move, but I shake myself and nod at him. The three men look at me and wait until I’ve gone back into the kitchen. Without fully closing the door, I stand inside and put my ear to the gap only to hear Conor ask them to move into his office.
Tears are gathering, stinging my eyes, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. With nothing to be heard at the doorway, I move over to Shay’s crib and lean in to kiss him. The warmth of his breath against my face does little to ease the fear firmly gripping me. This is it. The cops are going to arrest my husband. They must have something on him and Conor was pretty eager to make sure I didn’t hear what it was. With Shay in my arms now, I walk nervously around the room holding him tighter than is necessary, waiting. At the window I look out at the dull grey world and think of Pat. It’s his fault. He’s the one who brought this to my door, telling the cops Conor left our house the night Vicky was killed. Why would he do that? He knows Conor. He knows he wouldn’t do a thing like that. I open my mouth to release the words I hate you Pat, look what you’ve done to us. But the words don’t leave. I stop, a fresh wave of dread washing over me. He does know Conor. He knows Conor a lot better than I do.
About twenty minutes later, the sound of the office door opening startles me. Are they going to take Conor away? Is he handcuffed? I put Shay back into the crib. He starts to cry but I leave him and rush to see Conor closing the front door. The detectives are gone. Conor is still here. Thank God they haven’t taken him to the station. Relief washes over me as I go to Conor in the hallway. His face is flushed, worry etched across his brow. I break the icy silence.
‘What did they want, Conor?’
He shakes his head and walks past me into the kitchen. Then stops, turns to look at me and says. ‘You’re not going to believe this Laura.’ He runs his hands through his hair and looks at the ground then back to me. ‘I’m the last person Vicky Murphy made contact with before she was killed.’
‘What?’ I can barely hear my own whisper. ‘But…’
‘Yes, she texted me, asking to see me as soon as possible, saying it was important.’
‘And did you answer her?’
‘I didn’t notice it Laura.’
‘But did you see it afterwards, the next day, did you not notice her name on your phone?’
‘It didn’t come up under her name, it was just her number and no, I didn’t notice it. My phone was jammed with messages of congratulations.’ He moves over to the island brushing his hand over the top. ‘They went through my phone and found the message. They could see it hadn’t been opened until they opened it but they’ve taken my phone with them.’
‘What does this mean, Conor? Are you a suspect now?’ I say.
Conor shakes his head from side to side, unable to answer me.
Chapter Forty-One
Conor hasn’t mentioned anything to his Mam. I know because she’s still prancing around like Franck from Father of the Bride, and Conor is avoiding her as much as he can. I’m now stewing in worry for my husband. He went into work after the cops visit yesterday, but I don’t know how he managed it. I could barely dress myself. And now, I have to put all that aside because in twenty-four hours’ time, my house will be filled with over a hundred enthusiastic christening guests.
Noel and Abbie dropped in earlier with a gift for Shay – a silver bracelet with his name and date of birth on it. It’s beautiful. Abbie said they wanted to give it to us now so Shay could wear it to the church in the morning. When they left, Conor laughed, saying he didn’t think his little boy’s first big day out would be in