Tyack & Frayne Mysteries 03 - Don't Let Go by Harper Fox

Author:Harper Fox [Fox, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-02-11T05:00:00+00:00

***

At around three o’clock that afternoon, Lee came to stand in front of him. He folded his arms and surveyed him, head on one side. Gideon stared back. He had sat for so long in his fireside armchair, an unread book in his hand, that one side of his face felt faintly scorched. The rest of him was freezing. Nobody had phoned. The world seemed as disinclined to talk to him as he was to reach out. Even Isolde had given up on him, and had gone to make faces at next door’s cat through the window. “I have a compromise,” Lee said.

Gideon raised an eyebrow. It felt like one of the few remaining parts of him he could move without pain. He might not have landed on his wound, but he was bruised from head to foot. “If it involves the hospital...”

“It probably should, but no. I do want to do this job with Anna and Jack, but I’m not about to leave you alone. So the compromise is that you come with me.”

“What earthly good would I be?”

“At the moment, I can’t imagine.” Lee frowned at whatever change he’d caused in Gideon’s expression. “Sorry. That was a joke, though it reinforces my feeling that I really shouldn’t give up the day job right now. Come on, Gid. You know you do me all kinds of good when I’m out on gigs like this. I’d just feel better for having you there.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. And you can give me a driving lesson while you’re at it.”

“Why? You passed with flying colours.”

“Every good copper knows most people have accidents in the first weeks after their test.”

“Yeah, if they’re bull-moose teenagers.”

“I could still use some supervised practice. And you could use some fresh air. What do you say?”

What Gideon wanted to say would have killed off the sweet smile on his lover’s face, and he wasn’t prepared to do that again. He could diagnose post-traumatic depression in himself with no trouble at all, and he knew he needed to fight it. He hoisted himself up, biting his lip to silence a snarl when Lee handed him his crutch: he really couldn’t do without it now at all. Maybe it would become a permanent fixture, the sore patch in his armpit callusing over until he wouldn’t mind it any more. “All right. What should we do with Isolde?”

“Well, I met Sarah Kemp while I was out. She’s got a new trick.”

“Sarah?”

“No, you idiot – the dog. Do you want to come and see?”

Gideon limped out with him into the garden, Isolde trotting eagerly after. She sat down obediently at Lee’s word. Gideon looked around him at the sunny little patch of ground allotted them as part of their rental on the flat. It felt odd to have a garden on the edge of such a wilderness as Bodmin Moor, and they hadn’t begun to make anything of it, but he couldn’t deny that it was nice. Winter heliotrope was growing wild at the base of the wall, and the weird fleshy discs of navelwort leaves made patterns among the moss.

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