‘That was different. Rhodes hijacked me. I wasn’t prepared for—’
‘You have to be prepared at all times. Someone in your position knows that.’
‘I forgot. I was—’
‘Exhausted? No excuse.’
She threw up her hands. ‘I’ve nothing else to offer.’
‘Get out, Parker. You’re a disgrace to the force.’
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Incensing him further. Wrong move, Lottie.
He rose from his chair, slow and panther-like. She didn’t blink. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Remaining seated, she folded her arms.
‘Do you know, as bad as that display was on national television, it gave me a quiet moment of satisfaction. Because, Parker, you are nothing but trouble, and I’m making it my one and only aim to have you dismissed from the force.’
‘We’ll see about that, shall we?’ She rose languidly and strolled out of his office.
Hearing the door slam behind her, she stopped and sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling, then looked around for Boyd. He was nowhere to be seen.
She grabbed her coat and keys and walked out without a backwards glance.
Eighty-Four
Chloe cooked dinner. Oven chips and burgers. Lottie wolfed down the food and helped her stack the dishwasher.
‘Granny was here earlier,’ Chloe said.
‘The miraculous recovery.’
‘She said she was fed up with your cooking. I don’t think she’s sick any longer. I helped her tidy up here a bit. She even got the hoover out. Insulted me and Sean in the process.’
‘She’s definitely better,’ Lottie laughed.
Chloe smiled, and Lottie felt the tiredness in her bones ease a little. She pulled her daughter into a hug. Sean strolled into the kitchen but quickly turned on his heel with a ‘Yuck!’
‘Would you mind if Boyd came over for a while?’
‘Work stuff?’ Chloe asked.
‘Not really.’ Lottie released her, then closed the dishwasher door and pressed the button.
‘I don’t care.’
And before she could reply, the girl had left the room, slamming the door on her way out.
She rang Boyd. They had things to discuss, and it wasn’t work-related.
* * *
‘What are you dressing up for?’ Chloe plonked herself down on Lottie’s bed. ‘It’s only Boyd.’
‘What about this?’ Lottie asked, holding out a cream blouse.
‘Try the blue dress.’ Chloe folded her arms.
Lottie held it up to her chest. ‘I don’t think it fits me any more.’
‘That’s because you’ve gone to skin and bone. You need to eat.’
‘I do eat.’
‘Junk food. You’re wearing yourself to the bone again.’
‘Again?’ She pulled the blue dress on over her long grey T-shirt.
‘Every time you have a murder case, you forget about yourself. That’s too big for you.’
‘Any other suggestions?’
‘Your jeans and a clean shirt if you can find one.’
‘Chloe, don’t be so mean.’
‘It’s only Boyd, for Christ’s sake. Not Johnny Depp.’
‘I want to look … different from my normal look.’
‘Sounds serious.’
‘You’re right, it’s only Boyd.’ Lottie pulled two shirts off hangers. ‘Which one?’
‘The green one.’
‘That doesn’t go with my eyes.’
‘The white one then.’
‘What’s the matter, Chloe?’ Lottie threw the clothes on the floor and sat beside her daughter. She held her hand. ‘Boy trouble?’
‘Not my boy trouble. Your man trouble.’
‘I don’t have man trouble.’
‘That’s the problem. Boyd, well, he’s your friend. You can’t go on a date with him.’
‘For the last time, it’s not a date.’
‘Why is he down in the sitting room with another bunch of flowers then?’
‘He’s just being Boyd.’ Lottie bit her lip. She hadn’t a clue how to handle this awkwardness with her daughter.
‘I know you slept with him last night. This is going to end in tears.’
‘Hey.’ She gripped Chloe’s hand tightly. ‘I just have things to discuss with him. It’s nothing serious.’
‘Yeah, but he’s your friend. And you’re going to ruin that friendship, just like you ruin everything. I miss Dad!’
‘Wait a minute …’
But Chloe had fled.
Flopping back on the bed, Lottie stared at a water stain on the ceiling and wondered where she was going wrong.
Eighty-Five
In the end, she rushed Boyd out the door and drove over to his apartment behind him.
As usual, the place was clean and quiet. She sat beside him on the couch and sipped a glass of white wine. They had agreed to no work talk.
‘Do you miss Grace being around for the weekend?’
‘No. I’ve been on my own for so long, I find it hard to share my space. Anyway, she’ll be back tomorrow.’
‘No hope for me then,’ she laughed. The illicit wine was relaxing her. A little.
‘There is always hope for you, Lottie Parker.’ He clinked his glass to hers and the hazel in his eyes sparkled with the light. ‘I enjoyed having you here last night. In my bed. Our lovemaking.’
‘I was only here a couple of hours.’ She turned her head to him. How was she going to handle this without ruining their friendship?
‘You’re beautiful, but you don’t realise it.’
‘Will you stop!’
‘I thought I’d go mental all day, restraining myself.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Trying to keep my hands off you and my expression neutral.’
She smiled awkwardly. ‘McMahon didn’t remain neutral. He’s preparing my walking papers. I don’t know what I’m going to do.’
‘He can’t suspend you without consulting the chief super, so don’t worry about it.’
‘I have to worry about it. I need my job. It’s the only thing keeping me half sane.’
‘You have your children. They’re brilliant kids. I love Sean.’
‘Chloe is an enigma, though. If only I could fathom out how her brain works.’
‘Problems there?’
‘She thinks I’m going to ruin a good friendship.’
‘And are you?’
‘I ruin everything, according to her.’
‘No you don’t. She’s just a teenager. Afraid she’s going to lose her mum.’
‘It’s more than that, Boyd. I fear for her. She says she misses her dad.’
‘Of course she does. Sean too.’ He leaned over for the bottle and refilled his glass. ‘Another?’
‘I shouldn’t be drinking at all. I’ve got to drive home.’ As he drew away, she said, ‘Well, maybe half a glass.’
They reclined in the silence, their legs touching, her head on his shoulder. She felt that if she sat here long enough, the hassles of her life might just disappear, if only for an hour.
‘Do you ever crave sex?’ he said.
‘Jesus, Boyd. Where did that come from?’
He pointed to the pit of his abs. ‘Here. Somewhere down here.’
Lottie stood up and walked to the window. ‘That’s an odd question.’
He said nothing.
She flicked a slat in the wooden blind, cutting the scene outside in half. She didn’t want to turn around. To see him sitting there, hands resting just above the buckle of his belt. His fingers long and lonely. His hair short and damp. And his eyes. Questioning.
‘I don’t think about it,’ she said.
‘You must do.’
‘Do you?’
‘Not as often as you might think,’ Boyd said.
She heard him standing up, the glass clinking on the table, the rustle of his trousers, the pad of his feet on the carpet. She sensed his closeness as he stood behind her.
‘Do you love me, Lottie?’
That made her take a step away from him. She turned to stare. Side-on, he was even more handsome, because she couldn’t see his sticking-out ears.