The River Runs Deep: A Yorkshire Coast Crime Thriller (Michael Brady Book 2) by Mark Richards

Author:Mark Richards [Richards, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-30T22:00:00+00:00

There was a knock on the door. Brady heard it opening. “Ian? Are you in?”

He turned round. A woman in her early 50s. Solid, comfortable. Short brown hair, square framed glasses. A suitcase in her hand. “This is my cousin, Joanne,” Foster said. “She’s come to stay with me for a few days.”

Brady stood up, shook hands with Joanne. Introduced himself and Frankie. Explained they were just going.

“I’ll walk to your car with you,” Foster said.

“You don’t have to, Mr Foster.”

“No. It’s alright. There’s something I want to say.”

They walked across the farmyard to Brady’s car.

Curtiss was right. It’s more than ‘shabby.’ I need to change it.

Brady turned. “You wanted to say something, Mr Foster?”

Ian Foster looked down at the ground. Back up at Brady. “You knew,” he said. “When you came out to tell me she’d been murdered. You knew then didn’t you?”

Brady looked back at him. Held his gaze, just as he had with Curtiss. “Yes, I did. I’m truly sorry.”

Foster lowered his head again. Moved it slowly from side to side.

Like a bull ready to charge…

“I should punch you. I don’t swear, Mr Brady, but I should fucking punch you.”

Brady felt Frankie step forward next to him. Held his hand up to stop her. Never took his eyes off Foster. He nodded. “You probably should. I was doing what my boss told me to do. Obeying orders. But that’s a coward’s excuse. So yes, Mr Foster, you probably should punch me.”

Foster looked down at his right hand. Slowly, deliberately, unclenched his fist.

“I’ll not shake hands,” he said. “Whoever I married, I loved her. Now she’s gone. Just find out who did it. Find who did this to me.”

“Don’t worry,” Brady said. “I will, Mr Foster. I know my words probably don’t mean much to you right now...”

“No, they don’t. Fine words butter no parsnips, Mr Brady. That’s what my dad used to say.”

“He was right. But I’ll find your killer, Mr Foster. The first case like this I was ever involved in, I made someone a promise – ”

Sarah Cooke. When I walked into the house and found her. Lying on the floor. The picture of her daughter clutched in her hand…

“ – And I’ll make the same promise to you. Whatever it takes. Whatever it costs me. I’ll find who killed your wife.”

Foster looked at him. He wasn’t convinced. “Like I said. I’ll not shake hands. Not ’til I respect you.”

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