Victim Impact: One Choice, One Decision, Grave Consequences

VictimImpact fran mcdonnell This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, businesses, organisations and incidents portrayed in it are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Published 2023 by Poolbeg Press Ltd. 123 Grange Hill, Baldoyle, Dublin 13, Ireland Email: [email protected] © Fran McDonnell 2023 The moral right of the author has been asserted. © Poolbeg Press Ltd. 2023, copyright for editing, typesetting, layout, design, ebook A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. ISBN 978178199-455-9 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. www.poolbeg.com About the author Fran McDonnell was born and raised in Newry, County Down. She has a degree in Nursing and worked as a nurse in England. She also has a Master’s in Women’s Studies. After travelling, Fran did a Diploma in Kinesiology and set up her kinesiology clinic in Limerick city. She lives in County Tipperary where she grows vegetables and enjoys watching beautiful sunsets. Fran has also written the gripping thrillers What Lies Hidden and Broken Silence. Acknowledgements Thank you to Paula Campbell of Poolbeg Press for giving me this life-changing opportunity. I am so grateful. Thank you to Gaye Shortland, my editor, for knowing and caring about my characters and for keeping me true to who they are. It is a pleasure to work with you. Thank you to photographers Fran Veale and Niall Carson for their technical advice about cameras and sending pictures. They did their best to explain it to me. Any inaccuracies are mine. Thank you also to James and Michael from the Newry Computer Centre. When I lost the whole book you managed to retrieve it. Panic averted. Thank you to my beta-readers Mum, Dad, Nuala, Aileen, Anne Marie, Joan Lonergan and Mary McInerney. Your feedback and continuing encouragement is heartening. Thank you to Liam McDonnell, my nephew and alpha-beta reader. Once again, in this book your insights were one hundred per cent. Without you, I would never have been published. Thank you for your faith, support and commitment. Thank you, Mum, for all the time and energy you have put into reading all the drafts and checking and rechecking for consistency. Thank you to my readers for their kind words and enthusiasm for my stories. Thank you to my friend, Denise, for all the adventures and for your support and wise counsel. You have helped me in countless ways that have made my life better. To Mum, Dad and Nuala, thank you for . . . everything. DEDICATED TO NIALL McDONNELL Chapter 1Tuesday 24th OctoberA bell was ringing. Isobel registered it and slowly her mind came up through the layers of dreaming. A phone. Disorientated, she lay still. It was dark. Rain pattered onto the skylight above her head. The ringing stopped. Isobel moved. It was cold in her room. Reluctantly she reached out from under the warmth of the duvet for her bedside clock. She focused blearily. It was seven o’clock. She groaned. The ringing started again. She must have left the phone downstairs last night.Isobel sighed, climbed out of bed, pushed her feet into her slippers and made her way carefully down the stairs. Her mobile was on the kitchen counter. Still ringing.“Hello?” Even to herself her voice sounded hoarse with sleep.“Auntie Isobel?”“Jack, is that you?”“Yes.”“Aren’t you in Belfast?”“Yes.”“Why are you ringing me so early? Is something wrong?”Isobel could hear some sharp intakes of breath. She was awake now. She forced herself to be calm. Her mind quickly flicked through possible scenarios. Someone from the family sick or in an accident? It was unlikely that Jack would be delegated to phone her – therefore, he was probably in trouble himself. His family was closer to him, she was in Limerick – much farther away. She could feel her mind start to spiral with worry. She shut down those imaginings and took a deep breath.She spoke softly. “What is it, Jack? What’s happened?”She could hear sobs. She injected some more power into her voice. “Jack, I know you’re upset but try to tell me what’s happened.”She could feel a knot of anxiety in her stomach. She closed her eyes and called on all her reserves. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and said calmly, “Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out.” She hoped this was true. “What happened?”“Two . . . two of my friends were . . . were attacked last night and one of them is . . . is . . .” The sobs deepened.“What happened to one of them?”“He’s dead . . . Michael’s dead.”Isobel murmured words of comfort, her mind reeling.“Where are you? Who’s with you?”“I’m at the Royal.”“The hospital? Are you alright?”“Yes, I’m OK. Dad is here with me.”Isobel felt her shoulders relax. Her brother, Dave, was there. Thank goodness. Dave was a few years older than her and had always been very protective. She heard some nose-blowing.“But I want you to come up too. Can you? Please? You know about crimes and you know about dealing with the police.”Isobel felt herself tensing again. “Are you in trouble with the police, Jack?”“No, no, that’s not it. I would just feel better if you were here.”“Can you put your dad on?”“Right.”She could hear noises and voices in the background.“Hi, Isobel. I’m out in the corridor. This is awful.”“Dave, what the hell happened? Is Jack in