Rick catches Moira’s gaze. His look is rueful – seeming to say they’re both caught in the eye of the storm, and there’s no easy way out until Lizzie and Philip have resolved this for themselves. Moira knows he’s right. She’s thinking the same.
‘You’re retired. You’re not responsible for this,’ repeats Lizzie. Her voice is still assertive but her expression is softer now, more understanding. Her fingers stroke his arm.
Philip still doesn’t reply. As he reaches out to lift the coffee mug in front of him, Moira sees his hands are trembling.
She scans his face. There’s conflict in Philip’s expression. She’s not sure what’s going on here, but she guesses that as an ex-DCI, Philip’s finding it hard to be a bystander in this murder – to not be the one in charge and instead be forced on to the sidelines.
Moira understands that. She also knows what it’s like to feel responsible for something bad, something fatal. Her last operation starts to play out in her mind’s eye and her breath catches in her throat. Feeling her heart rate accelerate, she clasps her fingers around her coffee mug tighter. Shakes her head to get rid of the memory. She can’t think about that now, here. She can’t think about what happened with McCord.
When she glances up she realises Rick is looking at her, frowning. She wonders what her expression looked like as the memory of McCord started playing. Nothing good, she imagines. And whatever it was, it seems Rick noticed. She gives him a little shrug, trying to make light of it. Turns her attention to Philip.
Philip’s shoulders have slumped. He’s still red-faced and sweat is beading across his forehead. He reaches into his pocket for a tissue and mops his brow. ‘I know you’re right, Lizzie, you’re always right . . .’
‘I just wanted you to stop raging. I couldn’t bear for you to have another—’
‘I understand that,’ says Philip. He exhales hard. ‘It’s just I do feel like I should be taking charge here. Someone needs to make sure the case is run properly.’
Lizzie looks sad, disappointed. She twists her rings around her wedding finger.
Philip puts his hand over hers. ‘I know you wanted us to have a quieter life in retirement, but this murder happened right on our doorstep. I can’t just let it go.’
‘You really need to,’ Lizzie says. ‘You shouldn’t get involved.’
Philip sighs. He looks from Lizzie to Moira and Rick. ‘I don’t trust this Golding bloke. He just doesn’t seem to care about this case.’
Moira puts her mug down on the table. ‘I had the same feeling. And I think your experience with him just now has proved the point.’
‘Yup,’ says Rick. ‘Like I said, he’s an asshole.’
‘The victim deserves better,’ says Moira.
‘Exactly,’ says Philip.
Lizzie rotates her rings faster around her finger. ‘But we can’t force the cops here to run their investigation how we want them to.’
Rick runs his hand across his jaw. Shakes his head. ‘I sure hate the thought that whoever killed that young woman could get away with it because the assigned detective half-asses the investigation.’
There are nods from the others. There’s a new feeling in the group. Moira can hear it in their voices and see it in their expressions.
Lizzie frowns. ‘So what are you saying?’
It’s Philip who answers. His tone firm and determined. ‘We’re going to make sure things are done right. We’ll investigate the murder ourselves.’
13
MOIRA
Moira can tell from Lizzie’s body language that she doesn’t agree. Her shoulders are raised and tense, and she’s fiddling with her rings again. Moira shifts forward in her seat, leaning towards Lizzie. ‘Are you okay?’