Read Online Job Hunt by Jackie Keswick - Free Book Online

that boy’s body had no strength left. Not after so much abuse. He was probably starved too.”
    “Leave no witnesses,” Baxter said softly.
    “Oh, I wouldn’t say that .” A calm voice spoke from behind them. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
    The slim, dark-haired woman who stepped between them wasn’t anyone Jack had met before. She was dressed casually in skinny jeans, a dark blue T-shirt and a loose plaid shirt that almost reached her knees. That late in the day, her long braid was on the messy side, but the look in her eyes was alert, and her voice held a determination that Jack took comfort in.
    “Dr. Tyrrell?” A deep blush stained Clive Baxter’s ears. “You are working this case?”
    “Looks like. Want to fill me in?” She nodded toward the ambulance and waited until Baxter and the paramedic were on their way before she held a hand out to Jack. “Lisa Tyrrell, Special Projects Unit,” she introduced herself. “Ricky may no longer be able to testify against the men who hurt him, but he will make sure they’re buried under the jail. I promise.” She rose to her toes and pecked Gareth on the cheek. “Good to see you again, Colonel.”
    “You too.” Gareth smiled a tiny smile. “Thanks for coming out so quickly. There’s too much red tape in this mess.”
    Lisa shrugged. “Not to worry. I’m good with a knife. I will need the two of you for statements, but I’ll call when I’m ready for that. Best go home before the press gets here.” She didn’t wait for a reply from either man, just spun on her heels and followed Baxter and the paramedic to the waiting ambulance.
    Gareth watched her leave, then tightened his arm around Jack. “Come on, brat. I’m taking you home.”

C HAPTER SIX
G LIMPSES
     
     
    J ACK OBEYED the pressure of Gareth’s arm. He walked the few steps to the parked Range Rover and slid into the passenger seat, glad that nothing more was demanded of him for a time. He knew that this was far from over. He knew that there would be questions and reconstructions and—maybe—repercussions, but all that could wait until morning. Right now, he needed a quiet space to draw breath and reflect. And he was grateful that Gareth understood that.
    The car purred to life. Gareth waited until Jack was settled in his seat, turned the heating up and the seat heaters on, and peeled away from the curb. The kaleidoscope of flashing lights vanished behind them, lingering black smoke drifted away, and soon the familiar sights and sounds of London by night soothed Jack’s jangling nerves. The ever-present traffic had thinned. Taxis cruised almost unimpeded, and every now and again the Range Rover slipped past a brightly lit night bus taking clubbers home the long way. Pedestrian traffic fizzled out the farther they moved from the West End, and Jack noted with surprise that it was half past the witching hour.
    No wonder he was beat. Since Baxter’s call earlier that evening, events had raced to overtake each other. Usually he knew in advance when Baxter needed help and had time to prepare and plan his involvement. This time Clive’s call had come out of the blue, and only Jack’s experience playing bait and their history of working together had made their attempt at all feasible.
    Then Gareth had turned up. Just as out of the blue as Baxter’s call.
    Gareth Flynn hadn’t featured in Jack’s life in years—much as he would have wished otherwise. And Gareth’s sudden appearance at his interview had played enough havoc with Jack’s mind that he’d declined a job he actually wanted. He should have known that Gareth would see through his flimsy excuse and not let the matter go. The man was like a Rottweiler with a whorl of Cumberland sausage when he wanted something, so Gareth turning up on his doorstep should have been a foregone conclusion.
    What hadn’t been a foregone conclusion was the way Gareth had backed Jack. The way he’d challenged the inspector. The way he’d ditched what he’d