Page 65 of Beneath the Quiet

I shake my head.

“No, but he wouldn’t do that.”

I roll my shoulders, the dull signs of a headache creeping in, and sigh in frustration.

Fucking Joe.

If the man who shot me has followed me here, I’m in deep waters.

I focus on the anger swimming in my veins. As long as I do that, I won’t feel scared, and I take comfort in that.

O’Neill rubs his hand across his jaw, his eyes rooted to the team behind me.

“Right, well, I don’t have to tell you to watch yourself.”

“Thank you, Sir. Let me know when the cleaners can come, please.”

He nods. “You might want to consider staying with a friend until tomorrow. Do you want me to phone someone for you?”

Mind already on asking Roísin, I shake my head. “No, thanks. I know who to ask.”

“Good, good. Well, I’ll head back to the station. Do you want a lift?”

I cinch the belt around my middle and shake my head. “I appreciate it, but I think I’d rather walk. Clear my head.”

“Fine, you do that. I’ll see you later.”

He buttons his jacket and leaves me. I take one last, long look at the people milling around the cottage, sad that something ugly and sinister has interrupted me at my sanctuary. My safe place since coming here doesn’t feel so safe anymore, but no sooner has the thought entered my head than I sweep it away.

No. I won’t allow the negative thoughts to take root.

I’ll find whoever did this to me.

I walk through the gate and turn towards the Garda station, my mind whirling. Who could have done this to me and why? I rub the spot where the headache pounds harder and grimace at the incessant thrumming. I guess it could be Joe, but I hate to even consider it.

If he’s close to Cloonmara, or even here already, he’s here to find me. I know he won’t remain hidden for long.

The town is already busy, but I can’t focus on anything other than the fact that I’m about to make a statement and work my hardest not to interfere with the investigation until my colleagues find the person responsible for taking away my peace of mind.

“Maeve?”

I whip my head around and blink at Aidan’s mother walking towards me, wide smile in place. “Rosie? Hi.”

I try to smile at her but from the look of her tightly knit brow, I don’t succeed. She stops opposite me.

“Are you okay, pet?” She lifts her hand over her eyes. “You look a bit off.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie, but I’m grateful for the interruption. I point down to the bag in her other hand. “Why don’t I carry this for you?”

“Thank you, that’s kind of you. I’m on my way to the community centre with some snacks for our knitting club.”

“That’s nice.”

I take the bag from her proffered hand and start to walk in the direction of the town square. She falls into step with me, and having the company is a distraction from my gloomy thoughts.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I smile down at her. “Just some work stuff that’s thrown me off-kilter. Nothing for you to worry about.”