It was the most awkward moment in Inspector O’Halloran’s career. The Daniels were not negligent parents who had failed to watch their child, and Angela was not a runaway troublemaker. In such a situation no one could be scolded, no one punished, yet there was nothing with which to comfort them either. They had failed to keep watch. That was a fact.

  “I’m sorry, Inspector, we’ve caused you so much trouble,” Clive apologized, crumpling his old favorite cap in his hands.

  “Please don’t apologize,” Shane said, glancing at the closed door under the stairs. “If anything like this happens again, call me.”

  “I’ll be more careful from now on,” Molly assured him, still pale. “It’s my fault and…”

  “Mrs. Daniel,” Shane interrupted politely, “you are not obliged to become Angela’s caretaker. I should have thought of this earlier. Today I’ll send a request for a professional carer to be assigned to her. Perhaps she could come when Angela needs to be left alone or when you, Molly, require assistance.”

  “Oh no, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ve grown so used to Angela that I treat her like my own daughter. I rarely leave the house. We can go to the shop together. Perhaps she’ll agree to visit Sophie with me. They’ve met, and Angela liked her. Please don’t trouble yourself, Inspector. It isn’t needed. She doesn’t inconvenience us at all. All I want is for the circumstances of her confinement to be clarified as soon as possible and, of course, for her to begin speaking. I ordered books for her online. She studies willingly. Did you know that?”

  Molly spoke with such excitement that it brought a smile to both Shane and Clive. The latter said, “She has always loved children. And if she knows she’s needed, she will help. Angela is an easygoing girl. I think she feels good with us.”

  O’Halloran nodded in understanding.

  “What do you think she might have been frightened of?” Clive asked.

  “I don’t know. But I assume it was something in the house, because something must have driven her outside. And then,” he shrugged, “she ran to the extension, but it had been demolished. Angela knows these places well, so she ran farther, to the lake, behind the willow.”

  “But who could have been in the house? My son Joshua came to see me, but he left with me.”

  Shane remembered the unpleasant fellow. Even the first time he had seen Joshua, he had wondered how such kind people as the Daniels could have produced such a specimen.

  “And he was with you the whole time?” The question slipped out spontaneously.

  “No. He went to work. What are you implying?” Molly was indignant, but Clive patted her lightly on the back.

  “The Inspector is simply asking, dear.”

  “That’s right. Well then. Angela has been found. Everything is in order, and I can return to the station with a clear conscience.”

  Clive shook the officer’s hand and was already heading upstairs when Molly stopped Shane with an exclamation.

  “How could I forget? Come along, I’ll treat you to some berry pie. Sophie baked it. It’s wonderful.”

  “I’d be glad, but I really must…”

  “Inspector, just two minutes. I’ll put the pie in a plastic container. You can eat it at home. Please don’t offend me.”

  “All right.”

  What a lovely woman. Shane involuntarily remembered his mother, who used to fry cutlets for him and always gave him some to take along when he went to study. It was painful to lose one’s parents so early. She had never learned that he had become a police inspector.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Molly placed the container in a bag. Thanking her, Shane finally left the house, got into his car, and safely departed Coleraine.

  For a while his thoughts were occupied with memories. Angela had spoken his name. Inarticulately, awkwardly, and softly. But he could not forget her gentle little voice. She used to hum the lullaby beautifully, producing only a drawn out monotone sound that some would call a wail, but today… Today it had been an entire word made up of sounds and syllables. A short one. His name. She had divided it into two syllables. “Shane,” something like that. If only he could hear it again.

  Knowing he was alone in the car, Shane smiled like a fool.

  The pleasant euphoria was shattered by a call from Faye O’Keefe.

  He pressed the speaker button.

  “O’Halloran speaking.”

  “Chief, I’ve just come from the nursing home.”

  “I can hear from your voice that you have news.”

  “The staff there are cowards, of course, but the management cooperated. They were paid six hundred euros in a single payment. You’ll ask who paid? The director described the man to me. Young, black hair with a sheen, cut short, an upturned nose, and distinctive lips. The upper one seems slightly raised.”

  The photograph Gallagher had shown him flashed before his eyes.

  “You just described Stan Dillan.”

  “Exactly. That fellow was helping someone with everything. I’ve never seen such confusion as in this case. How do we connect a poor girl imprisoned in a basement, a cottage sold several months ago, the murdered O’Flahertys about a year ago and…”

  “Faye,” he interrupted sharply, “I’ll call you back.”

  The reason for the abrupt break was a fleeting glance in the rearview mirror. Shane was slowing down at a traffic light. Something had flickered in the back seat, and he was not sure he had imagined it.

  He braked gently. The red light had just turned on. The road ahead and behind was empty. Cars rarely passed through this part of the district. A ringing silence fell, for Shane had forgotten to turn on the music.

  He glanced in the mirror again. The back seat appeared empty. He reached out and tilted the mirror slightly so that it reflected the floor of the cabin. And yes. He saw legs.

  “You don’t have to hide. I can see you,” Shane said calmly, in the tone of a good natured father.

  When Miss Striped Socks climbed onto the seat and, hugging her teddy bear, lowered her head, Shane smiled. Then he carefully changed lanes to make a U turn back toward Coleraine.

  “And why did you climb into my car? Where am I supposed to take you?”

  The girl shrugged her thin shoulders. Then she extended a finger, pointing at Shane.

  “You want to go with me?” he asked, turning around.

  She nodded, and something like a smile flickered across her lips.

  “Sh… Shane.”

  Be careful what you wish for. She had said his name again.

  “I’m taking you back to Molly, you little rascal.” The traffic light was counting down its final seconds. “This is the second time you’ve run away.”

  Angela flinched, her eyes widening, and shook her head vigorously, accompanying her protest with a low sound. Shane started moving and began to turn the car around, but Angela shrieked. Startled by such a reaction, he returned to his lane, technically breaking traffic rules, but fortunately disturbing no one.

  “And how do you explain this, Angela?” he asked seriously.

  The girl wrapped her arms around herself. Teddy Toby lay on the floor.

  “You want to go with me?”

  “Shane,” she answered firmly, more clearly now. Using his name, she could at least communicate somehow.

  “I understand. You want to stay with me, is that it?”

  “Yes.” At last, a dialogue was taking shape.

  Shane was pleased by this turn of events, yet anxious about the situation he had found himself in. He pretended that hearing her speak was ordinary, showed no joy, and continued the conversation.

  “Angela, you can’t stay with me. You’re afraid of the city.”

  “Shane.”

  Asking why was pointless.

  “And Molly?”

  “Shane.”

  “I know you want to be with me. But Molly loves you. That’s your home.”

  “Shane. Shane.” She began to grow irritated.

  “If you like, I’ll stay there with you, at Molly’s. All right?”

  She threw herself back against the seat and shook her head fiercely, like a child trying to get her way. And she repeated like a robot, “Shane. Shane. Shane. Shane.”

  Finally O’Halloran pulled up beside a shop that sold car tires. The engine continued running.

  “You don’t want to go home?”

  “Shane.”

  She pointed at him, then at herself, and then mimed turning a steering wheel.

  Shane could not resist any longer.

  “Will you let me call Molly? I’ll tell her you’re with me.”

  Angela bounced happily and smiled broadly. Unable to help himself, he beamed as well.

  “You little rascal,” he said.

  Molly answered immediately.

  “Angela is with me. She climbed into my car and…”

  “I understood that, Inspector. If she’s with you, I have nothing to worry about. The girl has special feelings for you.”

  “What makes you…”

  “I’m sending you a photograph of her drawing now. She drew it while we were talking.”

  While waiting for the photo, Shane glanced at the back seat. Angela was busy with her teddy bear. She played with him, silently explaining something, then pressed him to her face and cooed tenderly. Amusing creature.

  The phone chimed. Shane opened the file and could not believe his eyes.

  A lake. A man in a suit and a girl in striped socks. An embrace. And above their heads… a heart.