Just as she goes to put her phone away, she sees a new private message from Chris.
‘Hello stranger.’
She can’t contain her smile.
‘Hiya.’
‘Nice of you to unblock me,’ with the tongue out emoji.
She snorts, making Ritchie glare over towards her confusedly.
‘Don’t flatter yourself. You’re out on bail. Can easily just block you again with a click of a button,’ crying with laughter face emoji.
‘Please don’t :(. It’s nice seeing your face on my timeline again.’
She blinks. What to say back to that? She decides a simple ‘you too x’ will suffice, but sees he’s typing again. The three dots disappear, then reappear again. This repeats a few times, before the three dots blink at her for what feels like ages. Is he writing an essay? She starts to get nervous. Just as she’s about to type ‘what’s wrong?’ he finally sends it.
‘Want to go a drive?’
She stares at the message, her lips pulled to the side. This could mean anything…
‘When and where?’
The reply is instant.
‘Can collect you in an hour.’
She glances at her watch.
‘And you know where…’
She narrows her eyes, before nodding as if he can see her.
‘Sounds good. See you then x.’
Chapter Sixty-Nine:
Pulling into a space and switching the car off, McNally leans back in his seat and observes the area around him. Despite it just turning midday, the KFC behind him is already blustering with people in and out for their lunch. The 212 bus from Derry to Belfast had just collected a group of people, sunglasses on, ready for a day of shopping in the capital. Still no sign of Quigley though.
He thinks back on their conversation. He had stepped through into his office for privacy and cleared his throat before he answered the phone.
“DCI Quigley?”
Silence had greeted him down the line.
“Hello?” McNally repeated.
“DI McNally?” the timid voice asked.
“Speaking…”
Quigley sighed, before McNally could hear scuttling on the line, as if the phone was getting moved from one ear to the other.
“I’ve just seen the news… About Taylor.”
“Yes, sir…”
“What has happened?”
And so, McNally had indulged the former DI on what had happened over the past few days since they last spoke. He had listened attentively, not asking questions or interrupting. When he’d finished, Quigley had continued to sit in silence for several more seconds, ingesting everything that was said. When McNally was just about to speak once more, Quigley had spat back at him.
“What are your plans for today?”
McNally had narrowed his eyes. Did he think because it was a Sunday that he was going to be sitting in church? Praying that this investigation would solve itself? Or hop off to the beach and have an ice cream? And why was he speaking to him like that? He had nothing to do with this case. Hadn’t had in over three years.
“Investigations are still underway; we need to find some evidence to keep him behind bars. At the moment, nothing has turned up out of the ordinary at his house.”
“Meet me at the Castledawson Park and Ride at noon.”
McNally had opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off. He continued to stare at the phone. What was going on? The impulse to find out had been too great, and had made him come today. Ferguson had instructed that he’d join him, but McNally had ordered for him to stay in the station and take care of things. Ferguson had given him a sombre look, perhaps embarrassed by his wife’s actions the previous night, feeling like he was getting punished for them, but that wasn’t the case. McNally didn’t want his presence to deter Quigley from saying what he wanted to say. The two had never met one another, and perhaps speaking, or pleading guilty, to a stranger would be easier for Quigley. Bringing in his old DS could throw a spanner in the works. No, better off that he arrives alone.
And now, here is where he sits. The Castledawson Park and Ride, just off the Castledawson Roundabout, on the outskirts of Magherafelt. As close as possible to halfway between Belfast and Derry, give or take a few miles. He watches a black Mercedes park up behind him, but strains to see the face of the driver, having the uneasy feeling that he’s being watched. The car stays like that for several moments before it turns and start slowly reversing into a car parking space to McNally’s right. When the driver doors are level with one another, he watches as the driver’s window slides down.
Chapter Seventy:
They’re just leaving Drumahoe as Chris steals a glance at Danielle. Her hair blowing in the wind from the open passenger-side window. Her eyes, staring right in front, barely visible through her sunglasses. Light make-up on her face. Her singing along to the Becky Hill single he deliberately added to the playlist, knowing she was always a fan of hers.
She had insisted on walking up to his new house since it was only up the road. She was greeted by his mum like the past few years had never happened. Instantly enveloped in a hug and a mug of tea offered. Asking her to catch them up on everything they’d missed, before being dragged on a tour, despite Chris urging for them to leave.
He needs to tell her. If they’re going to get back together, or whatever it is they’re doing, he doesn’t want it to be under false pretences. And he needs to do it now, while he has her alone and while he has the courage. That’s why he had messaged her and asked to meet.
She stops singing and turns her head towards him. He gives her a grin, but realises she looks unhappy.
