texted Chris. You and Kennedy pick up Morrison’s phone at the hospital earlier?
A minute or two passed before dancing ellipsis appeared on the screen, signifying Chris was replying.
Sorry forget to mention earlier but yes. Nothing there though, looks as though messages have been wiped. Will get into evidence asap. Maybe Rory can revive.
Reilly frowned. Who would delete the message data on Morrison’s phone? His wife might, she thought automatically. If there was something to hide, that was.
In any case, she was sure Rory could get something from it. The guy could pull data from a dead turnip.
Reilly went down the hall into the computer lab, where Rory was dissecting the Morrison family computer, and was working meticulously on hooking up the motherboard to another unit.
“Victim's personal phone is on the way," she told him. “Seems the message data has been wiped, though.”
"Let's hope it's not an iPhone, then,” he muttered and circled the table, working on the connections.
“Find anything?"
He shrugged. "Emails, browsing data and docs are on that flash drive there, if you want to take a look. I'm only getting into the good stuff now. Or let's hope there’s good stuff," he added wryly.
“Great,” Reilly took the flash drive and began the arduous task of going through the information, email by email, in the hope of figuring out if golden boy Josh Morrison had any enemies.
S he was about an hour into it when she was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
It was Chris.
“Just dropped off the phone to Rory.”
"Thanks," she said, without looking up.
"Reilly?"
“Hmm…?”
“Are you okay?"
"Why do you ask?" she said, still not looking up.
Chris stuttered a bit, trying to find the words. ”You've been acting … odd today."
She sat back in her chair. “I’ve been acting odd? You’re the detective with years of experience thrown off his game by the sight of a famous face.”
He sat down in frustration. "I was keeping Annabel calm. Besides, jealousy doesn't suit you."
Reilly snorted. “Don't flatter yourself …”
He leaned in, urging her to face him instead of the screen.
"Look, I know things are still a bit … up in the air for you at the moment. I just wanted to remind you that I'm a friend. I'm on your side, remember?"
The gentleness of his words hit her harder than expected, and she felt an unwelcome surge of emotion rise up, then very quickly suppressed it.
“You’re right - I do have a lot on my mind," she replied sharply. “Namely trying to get a grip on this investigation, while - thanks to celeb star-power - a million other actual life and death case files lie unattended in the meantime.”
Chris leaned back, shaking his head with frustration.
Then he stood up and left without another word. She only turned to look after he was gone, watching the open doorway.
It felt cold in his absence and she knew she was wrong for treating him like this.
Yet she couldn't help it. She needed to push him away, once and for all.
It could never work between them. The prospect would have been hard enough before, but now with the baby… She needed to keep him at a healthy distance. Professional only.
It would hurt, but it was necessary.
Finally she decided to stop scanning email. She had made a thorough list of the people Josh Morrison seemed to correspond with the most. Generally associates involved in his coffee empire. There were some college friends and old rugby buddies on his Facebook page that she was able to match up through his email contacts.
It was a burgeoning list with lots of phone numbers.
She would begin the calls in the morning. But for now, Reilly was ready for some much needed insomnia.
18
" A nd meanwhile as we enter the next twenty-four hours of the Morrison investigation, what's going on with Store Street’s finest?
So far we only know two things: Josh got stabbed during a break-in at his house in Killiney on Friday night, and is still
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