“Well, no, she wouldn’t, would she? She was off drinking. She was always careful that way. Wouldn’t drink and drive.”
“How did she plan on getting home?”
“She didn’t. That’s why . . . I mean, if I’d expected her home, I’d have reported her missing, wouldn’t I? I might not be her birth mother, but I did my best to love her as if I was, to make her feel . . .”
“Of course,” said Winsome. “Any idea where she planned on staying?”
“With one of her college friends, as usual.”
“What was she studying?”
“Travel and Tourism. National Diploma. It was all she wanted to do, travel the world.” Donna McCarthy started crying again. “What happened to her? Was she . . . ?”
“We don’t know,” Winsome lied. “The doctor will be examining her soon.”
“She was such a pretty girl.”
2 6 P E T E R
R O B I N S O N
“Did she have a boyfriend?”
The constable returned bearing a tray, which he plunked down on the table in front of the two women. Winsome thanked him.
“Anything else?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“No,” Winsome said. “You can go now, if you like. Thanks.”
The constable grunted, ignored Winsome and made a bow toward Donna McCarthy, then left.
Donna waited a moment until she heard the front door shut, then said, “No one in particu lar. Not that I know of. A lot of kids today like to hang around with a group rather than hitch themselves up to just one lad, don’t they? I can’t say I blame them. Having too much fun to start going out with anyone seriously, aren’t they?”
“I don’t mean to pry,” said Winsome, “but had there been anyone? . . .
I mean, was Hayley sexually active?”
Donna McCarthy thought for a moment, then said, “I’d be surprised if she wasn’t, but I don’t think she was promiscuous or anything. I’m sure she tried it. A woman can tell these things.” The central heating was turned up, and it was too warm in the small room.
A sheen of moisture glistened on Donna’s brow.
“But you don’t know the name of the boy?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Never mind.” Winsome thought she probably had enough to go on. She’d track Hayley’s friends through the college’s Travel and Tourism Department and take it from there. “You said earlier,” she went on,
“that you kept your maiden name for professional reasons. Might I ask what they were?”
“What?” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing some mascara. “Oh, I was a personal trainer. Fitness. Nothing special.
But people knew me by that name, I had cards printed, the business logo, everything. It just seemed easier to keep it. And Geoff didn’t mind. That’s how I met Geoff in the first place, actually. He was a client.”
“What happened to the business?”
“I packed it in six months ago. Geoff makes more than enough for us all to live on, and I’ve got plenty of other things to occupy my time.
Besides, I’m getting a bit old for all those hard workouts.”
F R I E N D O F T H E D E V I L
2 7
Winsome doubted that. “What did you do last night, all on your own?” she asked casually.
Donna shrugged. If she felt that Winsome was prodding her for an alibi, she didn’t show it. “Just stayed in. Caroline from over the road came over with a DVD.
“Girls’ night in, then?”
“I suppose so.”
“Look, do you know how to get in touch with your husband?”
Winsome asked. “It’s important.”
“Yes. He’s staying at the Faversham Hotel, just outside Skipton. A convention. He should be back home sometime tomorrow.”
“Have you rung him?”
“Not yet. I . . . the policeman was here and . . . I just don’t know what to say. Geoff dotes on Hayley. He’ll be devastated.”
“He has to be told,” Winsome said gently. “He
