‘And why he hated us getting involved,’ says Rick.
Moira shakes her head. Lowering her voice, she says, ‘It’s one thing to manipulate the media, but if they’re paying off cops, I can’t let that go.’
‘Then don’t,’ says Rick. ‘Let’s make that our next investigation.’
Moira tilts her head. ‘Our next investigation?’
‘For sure.’ Rick looks at each of them around the table. ‘I don’t think any of us want this to be a one-time thing, do we?’
‘I’m ready for more,’ says Philip, immediately. ‘Certainly beats the activities and clubs on offer around here.’
Lizzie’s eyes are bright and shining, and she looks happier than she’s been all evening. ‘Another case to investigate? That would be fun.’
‘So what do you say?’ says Rick. ‘We’ll have ourselves our own exclusive club, just the four of us.’
‘The Retired Detectives Club,’ says Lizzie, with a smile.
‘Cheers to that,’ says Philip.
Moira stays silent for a moment. She thinks about how it’s felt to have a purpose – to do something she’s good at, and make a difference. It felt good to solve the case and bring Donald Ettwood to face justice for Kristen Altman’s death. And she can’t just walk away from this group now, she has to maintain contact – keeping them close is the best way to prevent them getting suspicious of her – and what better way than working on an investigation together? So she smiles, and raises her glass to them again. ‘Okay, I’m in.’
Lizzie and Philip leave after dinner. They did a good job of trying to hide it, but the tension is still obvious between them. Moira and Rick opt for a walk along the water before heading home. Moira keeps her pace slow to allow Rick to easily keep up. He’s moving better now than a couple of days ago, and that he’s out of hospital is definitely a win, but she can see he’s still in pain from the way he’s standing.
‘Quit looking at me like I’m knocking on death’s door,’ he says, but there’s a smile on his face.
‘I’m just . . .’ She shakes her head. ‘Sorry, I know you’re a tough guy, but you took a bullet, you need to take things easy.’
‘I’m pretty sure you’ve told me that already.’
‘I can’t help it if I care.’ She walks on a few steps before realising Rick’s not beside her. Turning, she retraces her steps until she’s standing in front of him.
He’s frowning. ‘How are you, really?’
Moira’s breath catches in her throat. Her heart rate accelerates. ‘What?’
Rick’s expression softens. ‘I asked you how you are, Moira. I know you’re good at putting on a tough exterior, but after what we talked about at the hospital I wanted to check how you’re doing. You were so cut up about what happened. How are you now?’
She exhales. Relief floods through her. It’s okay; she’d misheard. He’d asked how she is really, not who she is really. Taking a step closer to him, she breathes in his zesty aftershave and looks up to meet his gaze.
He smiles at her. ‘You know I’m here for you, right? You can tell me anything.’
Moira looks at him, this kind and thoughtful man mountain, and wishes that she could tell him the whole truth of who she really is. In some ways it would be a relief to share the secret. But she knows she can’t, not right now; it would be too dangerous for both of them. However far you travel, you can never truly hide from your past. And however much good you try to do, you never get a real second chance. So you have to do what you can with what you’ve got, and try to limit the damage going forward.