BURY ME DEEP an utterly gripping crime thriller with an epic twist (Detective Rozlyn Priest Book 1) JANE ADAMS (fox in socks read aloud TXT) 📖

“The place is not easy. Ranuf burns charcoal. He and his son had been watching the clamp all night. When his brother came to relieve him, he found her, close by the main track. We had to send to fetch the cart.” He took a deep uneven breath. “This is your doing, Treven.”

“Mine?”

“You brought him here. He used her, discarded her, left her like this to die and lie like wolf bait.”

“Hugh. You’re accusing Hugh of doing this. On what grounds?”

Eldred laughed wildly. “Are you blind and stupid? You know his interest in her. I know she’s crept out at night to lie with him. She roused once, when we came to her. She spoke his name.”

The cart had halted now and Edmund come round the back to help lift Cate. “This is true,” Treven questioned. “She accused Hugh?”

Edmund hesitated. “As my brother said. She spoke his name. Gently now, let us get her inside. Gently brother. Tend to your wife first . . .” But Eldred had seen his enemy and was out of the cart and running for the steps. Treven leapt after him, grabbing him by the arm and then wrestling him to the ground before he reached his goal.

“Let me be!”

“So you can cut him down and have your own life forfeit?” Treven whispered furiously. “Eldred, think on, just for an instant.” He hesitated. There was no kind way to say this. “What if her speaking of his name was not in accusation. What if . . .Eldred, if as you say they were lovers . . . is it not possible she roused and hoped to find him there?”

It was a painful, terrible question and he saw in Eldred’s eyes that it was one he had already asked himself. So much easier to believe Cate spoke of guilt.

Treven looked towards the steps where Hugh still waited, uncertain. His eyes widened as he saw the bundle lifted from the cart. “Cate? Cate! Oh Sweet Jesus. What have you done to her?” This last was aimed at Eldred and he leaped for the man much as the brother had leaped towards Hugh. Treven was forced to release Eldred. He grabbed at Hugh, calling to Osric and his servants for aid. Osric seized Eldred’s wrists and held them fast behind his back while Treven took charge of his recalcitrant friend. “There is nothing to be gained by this! Now calm, both of you, or I’ll have you bound and set under guard.”

“I want to go to my wife.”

“Then go. Peaceful!”

Osric released him reluctantly but followed close behind as Eldred mounted the steps and followed his brother into the hall. “Osric is skilled with herbs and healing,” Treven told him. “Let him see.”

Eldred looked back, his face dark and closed and his eyes cold as though he might refuse. The he nodded and gestured Treven’s man inside. “If she dies,” he told Hugh. “I’ll see you pay with your life, law or no law to back me.”

CHAPTER 17

Rozlyn arrived at the Queen’s just before eight o’clock. It had begun to rain, a light, soaking drizzle fine as yellow mist in the sodium light. She paused outside to switch off her mobile. She didn’t think it would improve relations should it ring during her audience with the king of Queens.

This time the silence on her entering the pub was only momentary; a mere dip in volume as she was assessed and recognised. Big Frank was seated in his accustomed place and he raised a bottle of beer in welcome as Rozlyn came in. He was pouring it by the time Rozlyn reached the table, tilting the glass with that skill Rozlyn had never quite mastered so that the head floated light and even. Whenever Rozlyn tried she had to pause to let it settle first before she could fill the glass. Usually, she just drank from the bottle, but didn’t think Big Frank would approve of such uncouth behaviour.

No one spoke until Frank had placed the glass in front of Rozlyn and raised his own.

“Cheers,” Rozlyn said.

Big Frank acknowledged with a slight inclination of his head before drinking deep. “Did you find that girl?” Frank asked when at last he came up for air.

“Girl?”

“The one who lived in that shit hole of a flat.”

“Oh. Clara. No, not yet.” She took another sip of her drink and then asked, “How did your boys know I’d be there today?”

“I put out word to keep an eye open for you, so they could tell you that I expected you here at eight.”

Ah, Rozlyn thought. Well that was comforting — that Big Frank’s boys were keeping an eye open for her. She merely nodded, as though this was expected and changed the subject.

“This Thomas Thompson you wanted to know about. Talk to me.”

Rozlyn considered. She had an inkling that Frank already knew as much as she did and that this was as much a test of honest intent as it was a need to know. In truth, Rozlyn thought, there wasn’t much to tell, and she didn’t see harm in letting Frank know what they had. There would be far more harm in withholding.

“He owns at least two houses, probably more. He uses them to house illegal immigrants. We think. And there’s precious little proof. We know that Charlie Higgins cleaned for him and that Thompson paid him well and used him regularly. I’ve got reason to believe that Clara Buranou was one who came into the country with the aid or otherwise of this Thomas Thompson. That Charlie got involved with her somehow because of that. I figure he felt sorry for her. Whatever, he helped her find work.”

“And where did she work?”

Rozlyn hesitated, then said. “She cleaned for an old lady Charlie knew, lived in