‘Yep.’

‘I’ll check Ava’s home for her files when I head out later this afternoon. We need to find her adoption records then try to track down the other girls. You start searching for this St John of God charity.’

‘It’s Sunday.’

‘So? The internet doesn’t observe the Sabbath, Murphy.’

‘What did you get for lunch?’

‘I didn’t eat anything in the end.’

‘How about we grab something fast now?’

‘What are our options?’

‘Boss’ll nip home for a hot lunch. I reckon we deserve a pizza,’ said Murphy.

‘Not my favourite.’

‘Only thing open on Sunday afternoon. Takeaway doesn’t open for dinner till five.’

After one slice of the drooping, doughy mess coated in barely melted cheese, Jake gave up. He worked his way through three apples instead as Murphy ploughed through a family-sized pie on his own.

The two men were working on paperwork in silence when the station’s front door opened. Jake looked up from correcting Murphy’s wayward reports as Amelia MacDonald’s parents entered the station.

‘I’ll sit in on this one too,’ Kelly said, back from his roast lunch at home.

Bastard.

‘Sure,’ Jake said.

‘Sorry about all this, mate,’ Kelly said, shaking Mr MacDonald’s hand as they took their seats in the interview room.

‘How is Amelia today?’ Jake asked Mary, pushing a plastic cup of water toward her across the old wooden table.

‘She’s going to be okay,’ Mary smiled tightly. ‘I didn’t want to leave her, but Charlotte arrived at the hospital shortly before we had to leave, so at least she has some company. Even though they fight all the time, they really do care about each other.’

‘Mr and Mrs MacDonald, I need to ask you some tough questions,’ Jake said.

‘Okay,’ they answered simultaneously.

‘Whatever you need,’ Mary added.

‘We have reason to believe Amelia may have been treated inappropriately either while in your care or while living at the girls’ home.’

Mr MacDonald groaned. ‘Not this again.’

Jake looked at him sharply. ‘Why do you say that?’

’You didn’t tell him?’ MacDonald asked Kelly.

‘I can’t discuss an unsubstantiated claim that we specifically agreed would not be raised again,’ Kelly said pleasantly.

What the fuck? Had Kelly been withholding something relevant to Jake’s case?

‘But …’ MacDonald said.

‘This relates to a potential murder enquiry, Mr MacDonald,’ Jake said firmly, not trusting himself to look at Kelly yet. ‘Tell me what you know.’

‘What I know is that I was accused of interfering with my own daughter just a couple of years after she came to live with us. She was only sixteen.’

‘Did Amelia make allegations against you?’

He shook his head. ‘It was one of those nut job counsellors at the hospital.’

‘What specifically did she accuse you of?’

‘That’s just it—nothing. She said she be-lieved,’ he sneered, ‘Amelia showed signs of sexual trauma, and as there were no men in her previous home, and because I was so … umm …’

‘Hostile,’ his wife interjected. Jake was surprised Mary MacDonald could be so scathing.