The Jade Garden (The Barrington Patch Book 2), Emmy Ellis [best ebook reader under 100 TXT] 📗

ghost over that. How could he have got it so wrong? And she had a beef with the police an’ all. They hadn’t fared any better. The Mechanic hadn’t even been on their bacon-ish bleedin’ radar, and as for the second man helping, he’d never been traced.

What had they been playing at? Why hadn’t they done their job properly and solved the crime? How come it had taken Lenny and Cassie to do it?

Lou had a little plan reforming, one she wanted to talk to Cassie about. Joe wouldn’t want to know, not when she explained what it was, but Cassie, well, she’d most likely be in agreement. While Lenny couldn’t be punished for fucking up, the police could, and Lou had it in mind to make all those top dogs on Jess’ case pay.

She couldn’t do it alone, though.

Once she’d thought it all through to within an inch of its life, she’d ask Cassie to nip round, or maybe she’d go to Francis’ house first on New Barrington, the big posh place Lenny had bought, built on land Joe had owned. Lenny had also bought the land where The Beast stood between Old and New Barrington, Sculptor’s Field, the place Karen Scholes had found Jess’ tiny lifeless body. It was a monument to her baby now, a great hulking horse-like thing—she’d said horse, but no one could make up their minds what it was, hence the name it’d been given. Lou went there sometimes and sat on the plinth, staring at the spot on the grass, imagining Jess there. She told her fairy tales, especially Jess’ favourite, Sleeping Beauty, and it was a sad thing, seeing as that was who Jess was now, a beautiful girl asleep forever, always three years old.

That was where her need to get justice had come from, one of those visits. Watching the pigs eating wasn’t enough anymore. She yearned for retribution, to set her soul at ease.

She jumped at the thud of footsteps. Joe coming in, his great wellies whacking the floor. He’d go into the mudroom to remove them, placing them against the wall beside Jess’ dinky ones. Keeping their daughter’s things around, her bedroom intact, helped Lou still feel close to her. She’d overheard some woman saying it was morbid, that time she’d gone into one of the little shops on the Barrington, and Lou should have packed up Jess’ belongings and put them in the loft.

Who was she to say what was right for Lou? Such a cheeky cow. Lou had wanted to run home, fling herself into Joe’s arms and cry, but instead she’d held the tears back and walked around the end of the aisle to confront the gossiper. Funny enough, it had been Jason’s snooty mother, Gina.

“If you’ve got something to say,” Lou had said, “say it to my fucking face. Or better yet, tell Lenny how you think I’m morbid. He’ll let you know what you can do with your opinion, and it won’t just be sticking it up your fat arse.”

Gina didn’t have a fat arse, but Lou had enjoyed the look of alarm on the woman’s face. Lou had stalked off, back to the other side of the aisle, and grabbed the tin of baked beans she’d come for.

God, she still got boiled up about that. Maybe that was why she didn’t like Jason. She’d transferred her dislike for his mother onto him. Hate by association.

Cheeks hot with the remembrance of that incident, Lou turned at the clatter of more footfalls, annoyed that Jason came into her kitchen, followed by Cassie. She thought they’d have buggered off now the pigs had been fed.

Obviously not.

She took two more cups out, keeping her sigh to herself and making out she didn’t mind. “Sit yourselves down. You must need a break after such a busy night.”

“It isn’t over yet.” Cassie eased onto a chair, sounding weary yet determined at the same time.

Sometimes, it was hard to look at Cassie without breaking down. It took all Lou’s strength not to do so. Jess would have been the same age, and Lou often wondered how her girl would have turned out. She’d never get over her death, but a part of her wanted to crawl out of this never-ending mourning and laugh a bit more, eat a bit more. Her appetite hadn’t come back since that dreadful day she’d heard the news of her child being snatched, and Joe usually said she only ate enough to fill a sparrow.

He came in then, ushering her to the table so he could finish the drinks, ever the caring husband. He was a good man, the best, and she couldn’t risk him getting wind of her plan if it went ahead. If he didn’t know owt, he couldn’t get done for it. Hopefully with Cassie’s help, Lou wouldn’t either.

She sat opposite Jason. He eyed her funny, like she was muck on his shoe or he knew all about what she’d said to his mother years ago. Maybe he had the hate-by-association thing going on as well. She bit back a mean snipe. That was what it was, the reason she didn’t like him. He gadded about like his shit didn’t stink, didn’t he, his mother an’ all, yet they were from the Barrington, the worst street, and no better than anyone else. They had airs above their station.

“What’s next then?” she said instead.

Jason scowled as if she shouldn’t be asking about Barrington business, like she didn’t have the right. What he didn’t know was Lou had Francis’ ear, had for years, and would likely find out anyroad when Francis next gave her a bell. They were family friends of old and shared stories from time to time.

Cassie sighed and fully explained the events of the evening, her voice creaking by the time she’d finished. “So now we’ve got to go and see