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“I didn’t have time to say anything!” Owen protested. “Should I call back?”
May shook her head. “Let’s move on. We can always try her again at the end.”
"Well, who's next on the list?" Owen asked worriedly. “I’ll try and say we’re police, as quick as I can this time.”
"Barbie Martins."
Owen dialed the number.
A man answered, his voice sounding gruff and tired.
"Yeah?"
"I'm police. Deputy Owen Lovell calling,” Owen gabbled out. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we're conducting inquiries into a murder investigation. We need to speak to Barbie Martins."
"My daughter? Why? She’s resting now."
"Sir, this is a murder inquiry. It's rather urgent."
"Look, I don't want to wake her," the man said. "She's sleeping. She was very sick earlier. She threw up repeatedly and had a hysterical crying fit. She's very upset over what happened to Alyssa. I don't want to disturb her if I can possibly help it, do you know what I mean? Can we do this later? She doesn’t know anything, and if I wake her, she’ll be really mad at me."
"We'll call again later," Owen said, sounding resigned.
May nodded sympathetically as Owen killed the call. Being a community police officer had its drawbacks. Consideration was expected. After all, the locals didn't have to make pies and cakes when the police did something important to help the area. They did it because it was all about being part of a community.
"Are we going to get anyone to talk to us?" she said.
"Well, we're almost at Paul Maher’s house,” Owen said. “Turn right here. Hopefully, being outside their door might get us further."
May drove past the house and parked on the side of the road. She didn't feel optimistic at all.
The house was a smallish one on a quiet street. The lawn was neatly cut and there was a fence around the front garden. A camera was mounted on the roof, a sign that the residents were security conscious.
As they walked up to the gate, a short, blonde, round-faced woman opened the door and looked at them quizzically.
"Are you looking for me?" she asked.
"I'm sorry to bother you," Owen said. "We’re police. We're conducting an investigation into the death of Alyssa Darlington, who was killed early this morning, and Sadie Croft, who was found dead just now."
The woman clapped her hands over her mouth.
"Two murders?" she whispered. “I didn’t know there have been two!”
"Unfortunately, yes. We are just making a preliminary inquiry, but we really do need to ask Paul Maher some questions."
"Come in, please," she said.
Feeling relieved they’d at least gotten inside the house, May followed Owen into the home where the woman led them to a small cozy lounge with navy blue furniture.
"I'll go and fetch him," the woman said.
She hurried out of the room and in a moment came back with a short, blonde, round-faced boy who was clearly her son.
He looked pale and tired, but sat down and gave them an honest stare. Mrs. Maher glanced at him protectively and May felt her stomach sink.
With a stroke of genius, Owen intervened.
"Mrs. Maher?" he asked the blonde.
