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) 📖

short fuse and a liking for his own way. He was making a decent living. I guess it just wasn’t enough quickly enough. Look, I’ve got to go. You watch yourself, you hear? He’s a vicious bugger.”

“Already figured that,” Rozlyn muttered as she replaced the receiver. She picked up the books she had bought and flicked through them again, pausing from time to time to read an extract. Far from being dry and technical, the book authored by Baker shone with the man’s enthusiasm for his subject. The pages were enlivened by small asides and witty footnotes and the style of writing was easy and surprisingly accessible.

She turned back to the slimmer volume published by Ethan Merrill. There was no reason at all that Merrill should have mentioned Donovan; Rozlyn had not asked about him, but . . . the doubt set in. Did Merrill know something about Donovan’s activities? Was he even a party to them?

Rozlyn shook her head, dismissing that idea, then reminding herself that she’d not even met Ethan Merrill until a few days before and the man could in fact be capable of anything.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her mobile phone. It was the hospital. Mouse Man had disappeared.

CHAPTER 31

“It was visiting time,” the ward sister told her. “There were people coming and going all the time and we’d encouraged him to get out of bed and go to the day room, so I don’t know how long he’d been gone before we noticed. It was only when we did the drugs rounds and couldn’t track him down that we realised and then a visitor came back to look for her coat . . .”

“He took a coat?”

“A raincoat, yes. He even left a note. Here, at the nurse’s station. Apologising and promising to bring it back as soon as he’d finished with it.”

“Can I see this note?”

“Oh yes, sorry. I should have given it to you straight away.” The paper was crumpled and had someone’s shopping list written on the other side. Mouse must have scrounged it from a bin. He’d written in small but clear letters, cramped together so he could get it all in and had obviously been planning his escape since earlier that day.

Dear Inspector Priest, I been thinking hard about what we talked about and I think I know where to find that Donovan man but I have to find him today or he’ll be gone from the place. I decided I would borrow someones coat when they came visiting and get off into town some people goes out to smoke so noone will notice if im in my pijamas.

 

“A raincoat, you said?”

“Yes, trench-coat type with a belt. Dark blue, the woman said.”

“So he’s walking the streets in striped pyjamas and plaid slippers and a dark blue trench coat.” Rozlyn sighed. “He’s gonna freeze. Was his head still bandaged?”

“No, we’d just taped a gauze pad over the wound. Doctor wanted it to dry out. The woman was tall, that he took the coat from. It’ll probably reach his ankles. I’m so sorry.” She fretted. “This just shouldn’t have happened. It never occurred to me . . . and this Donovan, he mentioned?”

“We think it might be the man who attacked him,” Rozlyn told her.

Shock and horror spread across the sister’s face and drained the colour from her already pale skin. “Oh, dear God. You think he went to find him? That’s . . .”

Rozlyn nodded. Something she’d never have expected Mouse to do. “You’ve got my mobile number just in case he gets brought back here?”

She nodded. “You’re going to look for him.”

“Of course. I’ll get a call put out, that way we’ve eyes and ears all over the town.”

The ward sister nodded. She looked so stricken that Rozlyn felt she had to reassure her. “Look, how hard can it be to spot a man in a trench coat and striped pyjamas? I’ll find him and I’ll bring him back.”

* * *

It was a question Rozlyn was still asking herself two hours later. She’d driven to all the places she thought Mouse might go. His house was boarded up and secure. The little chapel he attended on Sunday? Locked on a weekday, with no obvious way inside. The pubs he sometimes frequented; others he’d mentioned in passing. She drove, she walked, she asked questions and finally arrived at the Queen’s at six-fifteen, a scant quarter hour after it had opened. Big Frank was already in residence in his favourite corner. He nodded almost amiably at Rozlyn and pointed at the bar. Rozlyn duly ordered him a pint and orange juice for herself, hoping the sugars and vitamins might help to counteract the weariness and deep bone ache that suffused her entire body.

“Fruit juice?” Big Frank was not impressed. “Going soft on me?” He scrutinised Rozlyn closely, leaning across the table to peer into her eyes. He grinned. “You look pale,” he said, then laughed at his own joke. Frank’s boys joined in. “You going down with something?”

“Feels like it.” Rozlyn’s voice croaked.

Frank pursed his little cupids bow of a mouth. “You should be home in bed,” he affirmed. “Not spreading your germs amongst decent folk.”

Rozlyn thought of telling him that if she met any decent folk, she’d be sure to follow that advice, but she didn’t know if Frank’s sense of humour stretched to subtle. “So I’ve been told,” she said. “I’m looking for Mouse Man. Once I find him, I will be going home to bed.”

“Tried the hospital?” Big Frank laughed again.

“He took off from there. Seems to think he can find this Donovan Baker. He . . . borrowed a coat but he’s only got his slippers and pyjamas between him and the weather and it’s bitter out there already.”

“Donovan,” Big Frank said. He narrowed his already tiny eyes and squinted at Rozlyn as through seeing