Free Eoin Miller 02 - Old Gold by Jay Stringer Page B

with a new desk and Laura’s personal touches added. She had plenty of photographs behind her—receiving diplomas, smiling in uniform—and a clipping from a newspaper. She didn’t have any photographs of me anymore, which was both a relief and a pain.
    “Eoin.” The smile seemed genuine enough. “It’s good to see you.”
    “Hi, Laura. You’re looking good.”
    “And you, you’ve put on a bit of weight. It suits you. I always said you needed a bit more. Have you been keeping your appointments with Dr. Guthrie?”
    “No.”
    “He wants to help, you know. That’s what he’s for. All you need to do is talk to him, talk about, well, you know.”
    Then the awkward silence. It was uncomfortable but expected. We’d split up in part to avoid these moments. I wondered for a moment who would be the first to crack and start some inane small talk.
    “Have you been to see the Wolves play recently?” Laura cracked first, wanting to end the silence. I counted it as a moral victory on my part.
    1–0.
    “No, not at all this season.”
    “Oh. Bought any great albums you need to tell the world about?”
    “No.”
    “How about Posada, are you still liking it there?”
    “It’s home, yes.”
    The awkward silence settled back over us. I didn’t want to be here, I really didn’t want to be here, and I didn’t think she really wanted me here either. But there had to be a reason she’d asked.
    “How are your parents doing?”
    It was my turn to crack, point for Laura.
    1–1.
    “Fine,” she said.
    “They’re probably busy showing off pictures of you and telling everyone how well you’re doing. Nice office, by the way.”
    She blushed, and I tried not to smile.
    2–1.
    “Laura, why did you want to see me? It can’t be because you miss me.”
    “No, I—” The silence halfway through a sentence is always familiar to failed couples. It gets to be like an old friend after a while.
    “It’s just…I know you’re looking into the Perry case for Becker—”
    “He thinks you don’t know about that.”
    “I know, and I need to keep it that way. Listen, between us, this needs to go away quietly, and I can’t let the department get involved.”
    “I still don’t get why this is all so secret.”
    “Well, for Perry, this would be the end of him. Either his boy’s dead, god forbid, or he’s run away. Either of those would be too much damage to a political career.”
    “And for you? Why do you want it quiet?”
    She paused and then shrugged a little bit.
    “Perry is going to have a big say in who gets this chair permanently. A lot of the senior guys have been brown-nosing like you wouldn’t believe. I can’t be seen to get involved, one way or another.”
    “So this is all just about careers then, really.”
    “Don’t be like that,” she said. “I’m glad you’re doing it. I think it’s what you need.”
    “What I need? I’m not a charity case.”
    “Look, I’m not—I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that this seems safer than—”
    “What,” I said wearily.
    “Than what we both know you’ve been doing since you left.”
    “Look, I don’t know what you’ve been told or who you’ve been talking to, but—”
    “Eoin, I didn’t ask you in here to argue about this. I know who you’ve been working for, and I’m glad you’re giving something else a try. I think it’s a good thing you’re getting some distance from the brothers.”
    There was a look that passed between us as she said that, something I almost didn’t catch in the movement of her eyes. It hung between us for a moment.
    “Are you warning me off the Mann brothers?”
    “I’m not warning you off anything.”
    “Laura, are you planning something? Is the department going to move in on their operation?”
    “Don’t be silly. There’s no way we could get permission on something like that.”
    “Well, a big collar like that, it might get you this job permanently. It would make a good case anyway.”
    “Don’t be