“So, I can’t get over all of this,” Ava pushes her shoes off and crosses her feet beneath her to get comfortable, “like, why would you be getting targeted?”
“Because I wrote the story,” Cathal shrugs, feeling a lot safer here.
It’s innocent enough, but he knows why Ava feels so strongly about this, being the victim of something similar a few years ago.
“But I mean… Anyone could’ve got that story – no offence,” she laughs. “You aren’t connected to the story or the case in any way, like. Are you?”
That reminds Cathal.
“I seen that you’re friends with the youngest daughter, Michelle, on Facebook, Orla?”
Orla’s lip twitches in acknowledgement, her eyes stuck to her phone.
“Do you think you could get in touch with her for me?”
“’For you?’” Ava squints over at him. “You’re not seriously going to continue this story, are you? After all that?”
“Of course I am. It’s one of the biggest local news stories to break in years. I’m not letting that slip past me. Anyway, like you basically said, if I don’t do it, then someone else will. It’ll all be anonymous anyway, so even if they did continue without me, whoever is behind this will still think it’s me.”
Ava reverts her eyes back to the TV, a disapproving look on her face, but she bites her tongue.
“Anyway, Orla. How about it?”
“I don’t really know her that well, Cath… We were in the same class for science at GCSE, but we never spoke. She was very popular, well liked… Probably because of her dad, and then when he went missing, she got the sympathy card. That, and she’s minted. I mean, there were some girls whose Dads obviously supported Ardóimid, or might’ve been big boys in the underground running of things. They didn’t take kindly to her… But no one ever really said anything bad against her. Not to her face, anyway.”
Just as Cathal almost curses and tries to think of a better way to sneak into the family’s circle without door stepping, Ava nostalgically looks out of the window.
“I remember Dermott saying that she was lovely and quiet.”
Cathal glares over in her direction.
“Dermott? That policeman you know?”
“Aye, he was their family liaison officer when their dad disappeared.”
That’s it! The way in.
“I wonder if… Ave, could you talk to him? I mean, see if he’ll talk to me, about anything? Try and get me some inside information, or be the first point of call? That would be great for my career. My editor is already buzzing with me, I don’t want to lose this story to someone else or get it taken off me… Even if it does run dry.”
Ava doesn’t look too happy, but agrees regardless, bringing out her phone. She feels indebted to him, has done so for years. She’d do anything he asks, even if she doesn’t agree with it. That’s why he’ll never ask her out. One, in case he loses their friendship and his source. And two, in case she feels obliged to agree. No, if they’re ever going to be a couple, it needs to be on her terms… Her that initiates it, and Christ knows he’s gave plenty of hints that he’s interested.
Chapter Forty-One:
Sighing after that long day, McNally has never been so happy to see his own car, parked inside the station grounds. On the way back from Taylor’s house, Ferguson and himself had talked things through. Antagonizing Taylor wasn’t the way forward, even Ferguson had said that he’d never seen the side to him as they did when he kicked them both out. But that means something is up, McNally had suggested. If it was all rumours, then he wouldn’t have reacted like that and let his mask slip. They’re onto something, he just knows they are.
Leaving Ardóimid for now, seeing as the Galway Bay Hotel was able to confirm Boyle’s alibi, they’ve agreed that first thing tomorrow they’ll start by speaking with any members of the Jacks’ underground group who have been arrested in the past few years. Ferguson had said a few of the Jacks are awaiting trial for joyriding several cars over the space of a few weeks. Although their true intentions are still to be found out, they guess they were possibly something similar to this. Transporting drugs or bodies… They will offer them lighter sentences, immunity and even police protection if they have anything decent to tell them about Taylor and what happened that night. There’s also a few more charged with violent offences, so they’re as good a place to start as any.
“Right, boss,” Ferguson stretches, “can’t wait to get back to the missus’s curry.”
“Oh, Chinese?”
“Naw, I wish. It’ll be some sugar free, gluten free, chicken free, taste free shite.”
McNally laughs before stepping out of the car. As he turns to close the door, he stares in at his DS.
“You alright, sir?”
“You know what, Ferguson? Set me up.”
“You want some of that stankin’ curry, sir?”
McNally smiles.
“No, with your sister-in-law. Niamh, wasn’t it?”
Ferguson arches a brow.
“You sure, sir? She’s a rocket.”
“I can guess that, but… I don’t want to end up like Taylor.”
“Meaning?”
“That big empty house, all alone. No friends or family around. I’m far enough from my family as it is.”
He makes a mental note to try and get an hour up with his parents this weekend, if this case allows it.
“Hmm… Fine, sir. Although I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that respect, unless you’re
