Unti Lucy Black Novel #3 Read Free Page B

moved closer to her door again, the movement carrying with it the waft of sweat on the warm air.
    â€œI . . . ah . . . look, I know it’s late. It’s the wife’s sister. She’s called with us. She’s . . . she’s in pretty bad shape. We think her partner’s hit her.”
    â€œI’ll call someone for you. They can come out straight away,” Lucy said.
    â€œNo,” Dermot said, stepping closer. “No, please. She’s not saying he did it, but . . . well, her lip’s bust and that. The missus wanted her to call the cops—­to call you—­you know what I mean, but she’s refused. She doesn’t want the police involved.”
    â€œThat’s pretty common,” Lucy said.
    Dermot stood, expectantly. Finally, Lucy said, “Look, let me get changed and I’ll call over.”
    Dermot smiled briefly. “Would you mind? That would be great. I didn’t say I was coming across for you; I told them I was going out for a jog. I’m sure she didn’t want me sitting there anyway.”
    â€œI’ll be over in a few minutes,” Lucy said, moving to close the door.
    â€œOne thing,” Dermot said, arresting its movement with his hand. “Sorry,” he said, when he realized what he had done. “Look, would you maybe say you’re a friend of the family rather than her thinking you’re there as a police officer. Maybe just have a chat with her.”
    T EN MINUTES LATER, Lucy was crossing the street. She’d tied her hair back in a short ponytail, and wore jeans and a light blue polo shirt. She knocked at the door and waited. A moment later, Dermot answered.
    â€œLucy. Come in,” he announced. To his rear, four small children peered down at her from the stairs, already dressed for bed, but obviously too excited by the drama below to sleep.
    â€œThanks very much for this,” Dermot muttered as he led her into the living room. On a wide sofa sat a woman Lucy recognized as his wife, her arm around the shoulder of a younger girl, in her late twenties perhaps, who bore little familial resemblance to her older sibling.
    â€œLucy’s here,” Dermot announced again, pointing her toward one of the free armchairs.
    The elder woman glanced at Dermot, then smiled toward Lucy. “Hi, Lucy. Good to see you. This is my sister, Fiona.”
    Fiona glanced up at Lucy. Her upper lip was split and swollen around a livid bruise.
    â€œHi,” Lucy said.
    â€œWho’s she?” Fiona asked, nodding toward Lucy but clearly addressing her sister.
    â€œLucy’s one of our neighbors. She’s a . . . she’s a friend.”
    â€œCalling at eleven at night for a visit?”
    â€œSorry, I . . .” Lucy struggled to explain the timing of her visit. She touched at her wet hair. “I meant to call earlier, but I was swimming. I had to shower afterwards.”
    It seemed to placate the girl enough for she made no comment.
    Lucy smiled, encouragingly. “It’s good to meet you,” she said, clasping her hands between her knees. “That’s a nasty looking cut.”
    â€œIt’s fine,” the girl said. She shook her sister’s arm from around her shoulder and straightened a little. “I need to use the bathroom.”
    â€œI’m going to grab a shower myself,” Dermot said, quickly, sensing perhaps that left alone with his wife, she might have something to say about Lucy’s presence. “The downstairs loo will be free. Besides, the kids will torture you upstairs.”
    The two left Lucy and the elder sister sitting in the living room.
    â€œHow is she?” Lucy asked. “Dermot explained what happened.”
    â€œWe don’t know what happened,” the woman said. “She’ll not tell us anything.”
    â€œWhat’s her partner like? Is he abusive?”
    The woman shrugged. “I don’t really