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“Then just you,” she said, a bit disappointed.
I looked back at Dafydd and shrugged, shutting the door behind me.
“Your assistant is quite handsome,” she said. “Take a seat.”
I sat down on a small couch, clearing my throat.
Fucking hell.
“So, how can I help you, Ms. Bardot?”
“Thanks for taking the time to meet with me. I’m with the Times,” I said, flashing her my badge. “I understand you were the counselor at Milford Haven School last year.”
“That’s right.”
“I was hoping you could give me some insight into the missing girls. You were counseling them?”
“Dear God.” She rolled her eyes. “I thought you were here about the COSCA awards.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve been nominated, and I thought perhaps you were going to announce that I had won.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Is there anything you can tell me about the girls?”
She slumped back in her chair. “Just that I’m glad to be gone from that god-forsaken place.”
“The girls, Ms. Davies, was there anything they had in common. Anything that would link them together. Mary Howell, Anwen Bowen, and Bryn Lloyd.”
“Did my ex put you up to this?” she asked.
“No.”
“Fucking uptight piece of shit. If he wasn’t drowning in work, he was doing some fucking project for the house in his garage,” she snapped. “I’m so glad to be back in the city. We only returned to Milford Haven because he’s so hard to work with. None of his coworkers could stand him.
“I’m not here for him. I’m here for the girls.”
“I’m not allowed to talk about my cases anyway,” she said.
“I know. I’m not asking for specific information regarding them, and I will keep anything you say off the record.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“I bet he fancies you.”
“Who?” I asked.
“My ex.”
I coughed.
“I’m right. You’re young and pretty, even with all the dark makeup.”
I got up to leave. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Davies.”
“The girls. They were all sad and suffered from low self-confidence, either due to broken homes or the death of a parent. Easy targets if you ask me.”
