Page 167 of Bound Lies

The man is trembling so hard I’m surprised he’s still upright.

“There was no sign of anyone around. Nothing. I swear. I came back and—” He gestures helplessly at Finn’s body. “He was like that.”

“He was our fucking golden ticket, Doyle!” I grab him by the collar and slam him against the concrete wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I don’t care if you have to piss your fucking pants; you were paid to not leave your post.”

“I-I thought it was secure.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just slit your throat too. Because I’ll do it, Doyle, I swear to God.”

Beads of sweat start to coat his upper lip as his eyes flick to Finn. “P-please.”

“You must have heard something. A car at least? No one can access this industrial estate on foot.”

“There was nothing! I-I swear.”

“What about the door? You must have heard them break it down.”

Doyle furiously shakes his head. “T-they didn’t.”

“They must have, unless, of course, you gave them the key.”

Doyle’s eyes widen, and I have no doubt he would currently be standing in a pile of piss if it weren’t for the fact he had already emptied his bladder.

“The door was unlocked.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I swear, Kieran! See for yourself.”

My fists tighten in his shirt, and for a split second, I consider slamming Doyle’s head against the concrete.

But that won’t solve the problem right in front of me.

“I hope to God you’re wrong.” I let go of Doyle.

He slumps against the wall as I stalk over to the door.

I run my hands over the lock and check the front and back for any sign of forced entry. But there is none. It’s completely intact, which means whoever killed Finn did, in fact, have a key.

“Fuck!” I kick the metal door.

The impact echoes around the cell, and a sharp pain shoots through my foot, but I barely notice.

Fury boils inside me, hot and unrelenting.

I walk over to Finn’s body and crouch down, noting the fact that his wrists and ankles are still bound.

“The locks weren’t forced, which means whoever did this had access to this cell.”

“You think it was an inside job?” Doyle asks.

“Is that a confession?”

“N-no, I swear, I didn’t do this! Kieran, you have to believe me⁠—”

“Enough! I don’t have time to listen to your blubbering, Doyle.”

Doyle immediately shuts up, and I pull out my phone and call Ronan.