‘What did you—’
‘Come on man, let Moira eat,’ says Rick. ‘She hasn’t even had a bite.’
Philip rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, yes, fine.’
Moira glances at Rick and gives him a smile of thanks. With the conversation paused, they eat. The bug chorus plays on around them. The ceiling fan above whirs in a steady rhythm. The night is warm and the humidity hasn’t dropped much. Despite the food, Moira feels tiredness seep further into her bones.
Lizzie is the first to finish. As she sets her knife and fork down she looks across at Moira. ‘I know you said the phone might not work, but I can see what I can get from it. I used to be pretty good at the tech stuff back in the day.’
‘Sounds good,’ says Moira. She’s stuffed now. Can’t even finish the last few mouthfuls of steak even though it’s so good. Being around these people is draining and the weariness is getting to her now. She’s already let her guard slip too far – and had to tell them she was ex-police as a result. She can’t afford any more lapses of control. Needs her own space. No more talking. The dogs to stroke and a peaceful, quiet house. She looks at Philip. ‘This was great, thanks, but I’m flagging. I need to call it a day.’
Philip nods. ‘Yes, okay.’
Moira bites back the urge to tell him she wasn’t asking his permission.
‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ says Lizzie.
‘We need to collect the rest of the weekly logs from the patrollers we didn’t catch up with today,’ says Philip.
‘And I’ll make some calls,’ says Rick. ‘See if I can get some inside intel on what’s going on in the investigation and also chase up my contact looking into the station wagon’s plate, see if they’ve found who it’s registered to.’
‘Good thinking,’ says Moira. Her brain is sluggish. Thinking feels like wading through treacle. But she needs a plan for tomorrow that doesn’t involve being around these people the whole time. ‘I was thinking I could try and get a look at the gate logs, see if they’ve got the driver of the station wagon on there, and also any record of a woman matching our victim’s description entering our neighbourhood as a walk-in. After that I’ll head over to the CCTV office and see if they’ll let me see the tapes for the past few weeks.’ She smiles. ‘Might take a while to get through, but could be useful.’
‘Good call,’ says Rick.
Philip gives a curt nod. ‘Agreed. An excellent idea.’
Moira forces herself not to rise to the fact that Philip’s still acting like he thinks he’s the boss.
‘I’ll find a way to test the water sample.’ Lizzie looks at Moira. ‘And have a go at hacking into the phone.’
‘Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a plan,’ says Moira. She’s trying to be upbeat, but it’s hard now. It’s not late – barely ten o’clock. But all she really wants to do is sleep.
‘Good, good,’ says Philip, the bossy tone back in his voice. ‘Get a good night’s rest, everyone, then get back on it first thing. We’ll reconvene here at twelve hundred hours tomorrow.’
As they all nod in agreement, Moira’s already thinking about her bed. She wants to get this case solved and force Golding, this local detective who really doesn’t seem to give a crap, to take action and get some kind of justice for the victim. But to do her best work, and prevent herself slipping up and revealing her secrets, she needs to sleep. It’s eluded her for so long; she’s only managing to doze for short periods, ever since McCord. But tonight, after everything that’s happened, she feels like she might actually manage to sleep properly.
In the morning she’ll chase down the entry logs and the CCTV.