‘We had it covered.’ Donovan finally met her gaze.
‘Any updates on George Shaw?’
‘The autopsy was rushed through this morning. Not much in the way of forensics but there’s a puncture mark in his side.’
‘That’s great!’ Amy said, itching to read the report. ‘Well, when I say great . . .’
‘I was surprised to hear about Molly going undercover,’ Donovan interrupted. ‘When were you going to tell me?’
Shit, Amy thought. She had forgotten all about it. ‘I meant to tell you but with everything going on . . . Where is Molly?’
‘Doctor’s appointment.’ Donovan’s face grew stony as he fixed Amy with a gaze. ‘You said you were going straight. No more playing games.’
‘I did. I mean, I am.’ Amy’s annoyance spiked. She was barely in the door and she was under attack. ‘I’ve not taken any chances, although I’ve had plenty of opportunities to do it.’
‘Oh no, you didn’t take any chances, you got Molly to do it for you. Anything could have happened to her. Do you realise how reckless you’ve been?’
‘Me, reckless?’ Amy stood. She could not believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t known about Molly’s undercover work until later on. ‘I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but you’ve got this all wrong.’
‘So, you didn’t tell her to go out on her own at all hours hunting for the suspect?’ But Donovan did not wait for a reply. ‘That’s exactly what happened to Carla. If she had told someone where she was going, she might not have ended up dead.’ But there was an edge to his words. Something else was bothering him.
‘Look,’ Amy said, ‘there’s obviously more to this than Molly. How about you tell me so I can get on with my day?’
Pushing back his chair, Donovan rose from his desk, his face thunderous.
‘What is it?’ Amy said. ‘What’s the real reason for your bad mood?’
But Donovan was having trouble looking at Amy, let alone communicating with her. He had been angry with her plenty of times in the past, but he’d never had trouble getting his words out. At least, not when it was work-related . . .
A thought blossomed. ‘This isn’t about work at all, is it?’
As his eyes flicked towards hers, Amy knew she had hit home. But when it came to their personal lives, she had not stepped out of line. ‘I don’t get it. What have I done?’
‘You should have been clear from the start.’ Donovan gave her a sideways glance.
‘Clear about what?’
‘What you wanted from this relationship. We should have kept things professional.’
Amy racked her brains for an answer. She might not be quite ready for domestic bliss, but she was still committed to him. Or was it because she hadn’t told him she loved him? Did he want more than she could give?
Donovan stared at her blank expression. ‘You really don’t know, do you?’
Amy didn’t. But now she was on the defensive. Their case had taken a serious turn. She didn’t have time to be trifling with their personal lives. ‘I made you no promises when I met you. I told you I wasn’t ready for anything heavy, and you said that was fine.’ She recalled the conversation they’d had in her father’s cellar, the day of their first kiss. ‘I don’t know what you want from me. If you’re after Bicks’s life, then you need to look elsewhere.’ But her words were hollow. She didn’t want to lose him.
‘Except I’m not the one looking elsewhere, am I?’ Donovan’s voice was a low rumble. ‘You are. And maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I thought we had something special.’
Amy threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘For the love of God, will you tell me what you’re on about? Because I have no clue.’
‘Darren, his name is, isn’t it?’
‘What?’ Pressing her hand against her mouth, Amy stemmed her abrupt laughter as a group of officers walked past the door.
‘It’s not funny, Amy,’ Donovan snapped. ‘I’m monogamous, as old-fashioned as it sounds. And if I’m not enough for you . . .’
‘There’s nobody else, there never has been.’
‘I heard you flirting with him on the phone. Telling him to keep work and your personal life separate.’
‘When did you hear that?’ Amy said, remembering standing in the hall on Monday evening. There had been nobody in the corridor at the time.
‘On the stairwell. I couldn’t help but hear you, laughing your head off. And then the pair of you meeting up in London. Where did you sleep, Amy? Did you even see Lillian while you were there?’
The only laugh had been an awkward one as Darren mentioned them meeting up. Amy couldn’t believe her normally placid Donovan was acting so childishly. Had his common sense gone out the window?
‘I wasn’t laughing my head off, as you put it. Darren’s a private detective. I hired him to keep tabs on Lillian. I didn’t mention it because I knew you’d only tell me to let it go.’
‘Oh,’ Donovan said, instant regret on his face.
‘Darren was the one who found Lillian. We met in London for a debrief.’ She omitted the part about Sally-Ann. Her news reflected on Paddy, and it was private as far as Amy was concerned. ‘And hang on a minute’ – she raised a finger in the air – ‘how did you know I was with him?’
Now it was Donovan’s turn to look shamefaced. ‘Your Facebook page.’
‘I’m not on Facebook,’ Amy said. Was this just an excuse? Had he somehow followed her? She thought about where they met, if she had seen anyone she knew.
‘It’s a fan page,’ Donovan said, digging his phone from his trouser pocket. ‘Someone had a sighting of you. I didn’t tell you about it as I knew you’d freak out.’ He tapped at the screen of his phone, drawing up a Facebook page. Amy stared at it in disbelief as he scrolled through posts of reported sightings of her. A photo in the coffee shop. One of her walking down the street. Bit by bit, she
