Death on the Green by Catie Murphy

Author:Catie Murphy [Murphy, Catie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2020-06-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Megan Malone.” Aibhilín looked genuinely delighted to see her. “Ms. Malone, it’s a pleasure to meet you again. I had the most interesting afternoon yesterday, looking into you. It’s not my usual beat, but surely somebody had to remark on the fact that you’ve been caught up in two murder investigations in as many months?”

Megan, faintly, and fully aware that Orla’s murderous gaze lay on her, said, “It’s two in four months, to be fair,” and flinched with the conviction that a stapler or possibly a computer screen was about to come flying at her head.

“And both of them tied to Leprechaun Limousine clients,” Aibhilín proclaimed, as if she had never heard anything as interesting in her life. Maybe she hadn’t. Megan had to admit it was interesting, in the may-you-live-in-interesting-times sense of the word. “How did all of this come about, Ms. Malone?”

“Through outrageous coincidence,” Megan replied as steadily as she could. “If that’s all, I have a job to do, Ms. Ní Gallachóir—”

“Oh, but it’s not. I’m altogether desperate to hear how you found Lou MacDonald’s body.” Ní Gallachóir’s eyes danced with challenge. “Give me that interview and I’ll forget what I’ve learned about the two recent murders connected with this company.”

Aware of Orla’s enraged attention, and thinking of Detective Bourke’s request that she not talk to the media, Megan smiled until her teeth ached. “Can it wait until after I’ve done my pick-up this morning?”

“As it happens, I’ll be covering the tournament at St. Anne’s today,” Aibhilín said. “I’d be delighted to meet you there. Say half nine?”

“Let’s make it ten,” Megan said through her teeth. “Just to make sure Mrs. Walsh doesn’t require my services.”

“Perfect.” Aibhilín drawled the word into the very Irish “pair-fect” pronunciation, which normally Megan loved but which, right then, raised hairs on her nape. “I’ll see you then, Ms. Malone.” She left with the air of a victor, and Megan braced herself on the counter, both wrists turned out, before daring to look Orla’s way.

“A fine job you’ve done of keeping us out of the media,” Orla said shortly, and with that stalked away. Megan watched her go, then turned her gaze to the ceiling, as if there might be answers there. There weren’t, of course, so with a sigh she went back to the garage, collected her keys, and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t even right now” to Tymon’s hopeful gaze.

“There’s a pint in this for me when this is all over!” he called after her, and Megan, feeling that was probably reasonable, lifted a hand in agreement as she got into her car and drove away.

* * *

As if the city itself felt Megan needed an apology for siccing Ní Gallachóir on her, the drive through Dublin was spectacularly beautiful, with soft morning light turning condensation-wet streets blue and pink with the sky’s reflections. Traffic wasn’t even that bad—Megan wanted, someday, to see an analysis that explained why Thursday mornings generally seemed to be lighter in traffic in the

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