‘Damned if I know.’ Philip blows out hard. Takes a gulp of beer and looks at Rick.
Rick shrugs. ‘Look, I’ve not met the man myself, but the word from my police contacts is that Golding is a known asshole. He likes the glory of a closed case, but he doesn’t like the legwork. I guess that’s some of what we’re seeing here.’
‘But I was offering him information,’ says Philip. ‘You’d think he’d have heard me out at least.’
‘Yep,’ says Rick. ‘That you would.’
None of them speak. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts.
‘So what’s our next move?’ says Rick, breaking the silence. ‘You still want a crack at this thing?’
‘Of course I do,’ says Philip. ‘We all do, don’t we?’
Lizzie and Rick nod.
Moira hesitates. This could be her way out. She shakes her head. ‘Look, I’m still not feeling great, and my ankle is pretty busted up. I think it’d be better if I bow out at this point and leave you guys to—’
‘We need you,’ says Lizzie. ‘You chased after that man on the trail. You found the phone. Even if you’re not feeling on top form you’re still essential to the team.’
The team. Shit.
Moira takes a sharp inhale. She doesn’t want to be part of a team. That’s not what coming here is about. She needs to keep herself to herself. Build a new life, away from law enforcement, away from trouble. ‘I just—’
‘You can’t back out. We won’t let you,’ says Philip. His tone is no-nonsense. It makes what he’s saying sound non-negotiable. ‘You’re one of us now.’
‘Well, I . . .’ Moira looks at their faces. Lizzie’s nodding. Rick looks keen. Impatience radiates from Philip. She knows she can’t back out now, however much she might think she wants to. Because although she knows it’d be safer if she stopped investigating with them, a big part of her wants to see it through. She needs to find out who killed that young woman, and she wants them to face the consequences of their actions. She can’t leave justice to someone as indifferent as Detective James R. Golding. ‘Okay. I’m still in.’
‘Good,’ says Philip. ‘And, for my part, there’ll be no more trying to engage Golding in any more pieces of evidence or leads that we find. He’s had his chance and he’s blown it.’
‘Agreed,’ says Lizzie. ‘The way Golding’s going that poor young woman will end up an afterthought on an unsolved crime database for the next however many years. We can’t let that happen.’
‘Totally,’ says Rick. ‘We need to work this, and if we find the perpetrator we can deliver them gift-wrapped to Golding.’
‘When,’ says Lizzie. Her voice is determined. The anxiety of earlier seems forgotten. ‘When we find the perpetrator.’
‘Yep. For sure,’ says Rick. ‘When.’
Moira likes the grit in Lizzie’s voice, but from the way she’s looking at Philip she can tell she’s worried. Moira’s not surprised. Philip’s cheeks are still flushed and his skin is looking kind of waxy. Not a good sign, especially after what Lizzie told her earlier about him having heart problems. She catches Lizzie’s eye. ‘It’s getting late, time I made a move and left you to—’
‘Stay for dinner, please.’ Lizzie glances from her to Rick. ‘We can talk about our next moves, how we’ll follow up the leads we’ve got.’
‘If you’re sure?’ says Moira.
‘Yes, yes, you must,’ says Philip, gesturing towards their make-do murder board on the patio doors. ‘We’ve still got a lot to work through.’