Read Online Buried Slaughter by Ryan Casey - Free Book Online
Authors: Ryan Casey
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, thriller, Suspense, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Crime, Mystery, Private Investigators, series, British, Police Procedural, private investigator, brian mcdone
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rival archeological group. An idea was building in his mind. Usually, a case was like a scattered jigsaw puzzle. This case was missing a bunch of pieces, but right now, he felt like he’d found a few.
“You don’t think they could be involved, do you?” Mr. Davidson asked. “I mean, I know they’re a dodgy group, but…but I don’t think they’d—”
“We can’t make any assumptions yet, Mr. Davidson. But right now, with no live members of your staff having come into contact with Mr. Harold Harvey, it’s all I have to go on.” He slammed his notepad shut and slipped it into his top pocket, catching sight of his watch. 10:34 a.m. He had to hurry. He could still make it to Brabiner’s Archeological Group in time if he got out of here quickly. He was one step ahead of the investigation. One step ahead of everybody.
“Off already?” Mr. Davidson frowned as Brian made for the doorway.
“I’ll be in touch,” Brian said. “If…if some of my colleagues come by later, please just repeat everything to them that you told me.”
“Wait—more police?”
Brian pushed open the door. “Yeah. Cross-departmental investigation thing. They…Don’t even mention me. They won’t even know me. Apologies for the inconvenience.” He smiled at Mr. Davidson, then disappeared out of the room before he had a chance to say anything else.
After the sour-faced reception lady released him from the locked door, he jogged back up the disabled ramp and into the car park. He checked his watch. 10:40. Shit. He had to get to the other side of town, conduct some kind of interview, then get back to Hannah. Not to mention leaking the information to David Wallson before the police had a chance to find it. Shit. What was he doing? This wasn’t him.
As he turned the corner, he saw the red Fiesta in the same spot that it had been before. He still had time. He could still make this.
“Brian! Fancy seeing you here.”
Brian’s stomach sank as he reached his car. Every muscle in his body seemed to freeze as he turned around in the direction of the recognisably smug voice. His heart pulsated right through to his head.
Stephen Molfer emerged from a police car at the other side of the car park. His black coat was zipped up right to his neck. He had that smile on his face. The smile he always had. Punchable git.
“Glad to see you’re keeping busy during your suspension,” Stephen said. “But what on earth would you be doing around an industrial estate?”
Brian shrugged. “Just…just collecting a parcel.” He pointed at the distant City Link depot, which Stephen Molfer raised his bushy eyebrows at.
“And did you get your parcel?” Stephen asked, staring at Brian’s empty hands.
Brian gulped. Fuck. Stupid excuse.
“I’m just messing with you,” Stephen said. He laughed and punched Brian on his shoulder. “I mean, it’s just coincidence that you’re here, right? Nothing to do with you, say, throwing yourself into that ditch on Pendle Hill, is it?”
Brian couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure whether Stephen was fucking with him or being entirely sincere.
“Anyway,” Stephen said, kicking a stone and heading in the direction of Davidson Archeological Contractors. “We did get in touch earlier about the length of your suspension. We tried and tried your mobile, but…um…Well, we left the details with your girlfriend. Have a nice few weeks, Brian.”
Brian stood completely still next to the red Fiesta as Stephen disappeared into the distance, whistling at the top of his lungs.
Hannah knew about his suspension.
If that trench on the top of Pendle Hill were right beside him now, he’d throw himself into it and bury his own fucking body.
Chapter Seven
Hannah was waiting at the window to greet Brian when he returned to their semi-detached suburban house.
She only ever waited at the window when she was gearing herself up to bollock him.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he
“You don’t think they could be involved, do you?” Mr. Davidson asked. “I mean, I know they’re a dodgy group, but…but I don’t think they’d—”
“We can’t make any assumptions yet, Mr. Davidson. But right now, with no live members of your staff having come into contact with Mr. Harold Harvey, it’s all I have to go on.” He slammed his notepad shut and slipped it into his top pocket, catching sight of his watch. 10:34 a.m. He had to hurry. He could still make it to Brabiner’s Archeological Group in time if he got out of here quickly. He was one step ahead of the investigation. One step ahead of everybody.
“Off already?” Mr. Davidson frowned as Brian made for the doorway.
“I’ll be in touch,” Brian said. “If…if some of my colleagues come by later, please just repeat everything to them that you told me.”
“Wait—more police?”
Brian pushed open the door. “Yeah. Cross-departmental investigation thing. They…Don’t even mention me. They won’t even know me. Apologies for the inconvenience.” He smiled at Mr. Davidson, then disappeared out of the room before he had a chance to say anything else.
After the sour-faced reception lady released him from the locked door, he jogged back up the disabled ramp and into the car park. He checked his watch. 10:40. Shit. He had to get to the other side of town, conduct some kind of interview, then get back to Hannah. Not to mention leaking the information to David Wallson before the police had a chance to find it. Shit. What was he doing? This wasn’t him.
As he turned the corner, he saw the red Fiesta in the same spot that it had been before. He still had time. He could still make this.
“Brian! Fancy seeing you here.”
Brian’s stomach sank as he reached his car. Every muscle in his body seemed to freeze as he turned around in the direction of the recognisably smug voice. His heart pulsated right through to his head.
Stephen Molfer emerged from a police car at the other side of the car park. His black coat was zipped up right to his neck. He had that smile on his face. The smile he always had. Punchable git.
“Glad to see you’re keeping busy during your suspension,” Stephen said. “But what on earth would you be doing around an industrial estate?”
Brian shrugged. “Just…just collecting a parcel.” He pointed at the distant City Link depot, which Stephen Molfer raised his bushy eyebrows at.
“And did you get your parcel?” Stephen asked, staring at Brian’s empty hands.
Brian gulped. Fuck. Stupid excuse.
“I’m just messing with you,” Stephen said. He laughed and punched Brian on his shoulder. “I mean, it’s just coincidence that you’re here, right? Nothing to do with you, say, throwing yourself into that ditch on Pendle Hill, is it?”
Brian couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure whether Stephen was fucking with him or being entirely sincere.
“Anyway,” Stephen said, kicking a stone and heading in the direction of Davidson Archeological Contractors. “We did get in touch earlier about the length of your suspension. We tried and tried your mobile, but…um…Well, we left the details with your girlfriend. Have a nice few weeks, Brian.”
Brian stood completely still next to the red Fiesta as Stephen disappeared into the distance, whistling at the top of his lungs.
Hannah knew about his suspension.
If that trench on the top of Pendle Hill were right beside him now, he’d throw himself into it and bury his own fucking body.
Chapter Seven
Hannah was waiting at the window to greet Brian when he returned to their semi-detached suburban house.
She only ever waited at the window when she was gearing herself up to bollock him.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he
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