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out for the count earlier—Joe said Felix and Ted had been by—and I was mithered to miss the feeding.”

“It keeps her on an even keel,” Joe said, probably for Jason’s benefit.

An even keel? She’s a nutter, got to be. Why would she want to be reminded of her kid’s death all the time? “Makes you feel better, does it, Lou?”

“Yes. Anyone who gets minced deserves it for the most part, although I heard it was Jiang earlier. What’s he done?”

Jason smirked. Get out of that one, Cassie. There was her, griping at him for telling Ted and Felix about the machete, and now she’d have to dodge the bullet.

“This is between us,” she said. “Brett Davis tried to rob the drugs from the Jade tonight.”

You what? Jason’s blood boiled. So it was okay for her to blab about it but not him? He parked up, livid, having trouble keeping his rage contained.

“You’re Dad’s best mate, Joe, so I don’t mind you knowing,” she went on.

Like that’s an excuse. What happened to keeping a fucking lid on it?

“Whoever it was panicked and sliced Jiang.” Cassie unclipped her seat belt. “He didn’t even bring a holdall or owt to put the drugs in. Stupid prat. We found Brett dead at his place, hence the box of mince.”

Brett didn’t take a holdall? I bloody told him he needed one!

“So he was killed by whoever got him to go to the Jade?” Joe asked.

“Seems like it. Come on, let’s get this over with.” Cassie got out.

Jason contemplated remaining in the car, letting those three get on with things, but he needed to hear any more conversation. He stomped out, round to the boot and, along with Joe, lugged the box to the barn. Cassie and Lou walked behind.

“Brett should have known not to go to the takeaway,” Lou said. “And whoever employed him is a twat.”

Jason almost dropped his end of the box.

“Ay up, lad. Steady.” Joe chuckled.

Lou overtook them and unlocked the barn. If they weren’t careful, Jason would get himself a lorry, come here one night in disguise, and steal all the pigs if Lou said one more bad thing about him.

That’d serve her right.

She switched on the light, and Jason blinked. The pen, divided into three sections, contained a shitload of pigs, all grunting despite having been fed not long ago.

Greedy bastards.

Jason helped carry the box over there, his arm muscles straining with the effort, wondering how such a skinny man had turned into heavy mince. Joe got to work digging his gloved hands into the mince and lobbing it at the swine. Lou came over, using her bare hands to snatch up clods of Brett, and she smiled as she threw it at the grunting fuckers.

She was definitely mental, laughing like that. Jason shuddered and had to look away, not because of the feeding, but her, Lou, enjoying it so much. Jess being dead must have mashed her brain or something. Cassie also averted her gaze, although she didn’t glance at Jason. He watched her and…were her eyes filling up? Did she have sympathy for the childless woman?

A chink in her armour. That’s a decent bit of info.

Jason smiled. Bingo, at last.

Chapter Eight

Lou stood in her kitchen, boiling the kettle for coffee, grumbling to herself about that prat Cassie had brought with her. Lou didn’t like Jason. There was something about him, but she’d never been able to put her finger on it. Right from a kid he’d been…off. Maybe it was his eyes, the way he seemed to see right through you, or just his manner in general: bolshy with a side of wanker. Sneaky fucker. She’d ask herself why Cassie had him as her right hand, but she knew well enough. Lenny had chosen him, and while he’d been in decline, Cassie acting on his behalf, Jason had been by her side, learning the ropes as well as some of the Grafton secrets.

Dodgy to allow that, if you asked Lou, but no one was asking, so she wouldn’t put forward her opinion in words, but she’d damn well work out how to do it silently. He was a wrongun, she knew it, and Cassie should be aware.

Francis had phoned the other day, in need of a chat. That poor woman, having to hide her true feelings about her husband’s death. Well, she couldn’t show it in public or Lenny would turn in his grave, haunt them. The Graftons had to act as though they were harder than granite in front of others, but how were the women he’d left behind meant to grieve? On the quiet, it seemed, a stiff upper lip and all that.

It was a lot to ask, and she should know. Losing Jess had broken her, and she’d admit that if she didn’t have the mince coming to keep her need for justice alive, she’d top herself, follow her kiddie into Heaven to cuddle her again, smell her sweet smell, and listen to her tinkling laughter. But there was Joe being wrecked again if she did that and, like Francis’s dilemma with Cassie, she couldn’t allow herself to leave her husband behind.

There was little time for Cassie to mourn, even if she wanted to. She’d jumped in at the deep end on Barrington business, and Lou was bloody glad she had, else Jess’ real killer would never have been found. That nasty Vance would have died of his heart condition, taking his secret to the grave if Brenda hadn’t gone in as his fake carer, and everyone in the know would have still assumed The Mechanic had murdered Lou’s girl.

Oh, he’d been the one to abduct her, along with someone else in the back of a van, but he hadn’t snuffed her life out. Lou had a bit of a beef with Lenny’s

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