Country Lines (A DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thriller Book 8)

by Oliver Davies

  “Yeah, uh, yes. Yes, she was.”

  “Do you think she was eavesdropping?”

  Lucy looked worried. “No, so she’d never do anything like that?” I could hear a well-meaning lie when I heard one, and I gave her a one-eyebrowed look and waited for her to talk again.

  “She’s a good kid,” Lucy said defensively.

  “No-one’s saying she isn’t,” I said, patting the air with my hands. “If I asked Eva whether she heard a phone call that night, d’you think she remembers it?”

  Lucy stared at me for a long moment. “I made more than one.”

  “Who was that, then?”

  “Look, why are you asking me this? Am I in trouble?”

  More trouble, I mentally corrected.

  “No, we’re just trying to fill in a couple of gaps, that’s all,” I said. She still didn’t look sure, but she answered after a moment.

  “I called Jackson several times. I got a call from… you know who. Pete.”

  “Anyone else?”

  She cleared her throat. “Well, I called 999 too.”

  “Aye?” I said, giving her a pleased look.

  I’d wanted to find out who had called for an ambulance for ages, and I couldn’t deny to myself that I was pleased it was Lucy. This would be a mark in the positives column for her when she went to trial.

  She gave a self-conscious shrug. “Max called me first, which set me off worrying, you know. He sounded in a bad way, and he- he said that Jackson wasn’t, uh, responding to him. Not in those words, but that was the gist. So I called 999.”

  “Max likely owes his life to you, then. Which phone did you use to make this call?”

  She did her best to describe the payphone she’d used and where she’d left it. I wanted to track the thing down, not because I didn’t believe Lucy’s word but because I did think it’d help her case.

  “Detective?” she asked as I was about to round up our talk and see ourselves out. I looked up from my notebook.

  “Aye?”

  She leaned forwards, giving me a pleading look. “Is my sister okay? Have you seen her?”

  “She’s doing good, I promise. I haven’t seen her in person, but I’ve heard reports from child services, and she’s settled in well at her aunt’s. She’s fine.”

  “Okay, okay, good,” she said, mostly to herself. “And Max? Is he okay?”

  I was surprised that she asked, but I probably shouldn’t have been after what she’d told us.

  “Yes, he’s fine as far as I know, too. His parents told me that he’s clearing up his act. His brush with death was good for him in that way, I suppose. He’s talking about getting an apprenticeship.”

  Lucy’s face split into a genuine smile at the news. She seemed as pleased as Max’s parents that the kid was sorting himself out, and I wondered how much she’d taken the teenager under her wing when Jackson was alive. With Jackson around to tempt Max with drugs and money, it couldn’t have been easy to protect the teen from himself, but he’d made it long enough to escape Jackson’s clutches and get help.

  “I’m happy for him,” Lucy said quietly.

  “So am I,” I responded genuinely.

  We spoke for a short while longer, but there wasn’t much else to be said. Lucy tried to beg me to have Eva taken around to see her, but that wasn’t going to be happening. Video talks were a possibility, but considering the nature of Lucy’s crime, she wouldn’t be allowed amongst kids for a good while yet.

  I checked my watch as I hung up and smiled to myself. It was nearly lunchtime, and Stephen would be getting eager for a break. This weekend, his family and mine were due to be meeting up for a spring barbeque to celebrate Annie’s birthday, as well as the end of the case. And perhaps I might pose a small question to Sam while we were there. I’d never been so simultaneously excited and scared at once.

  Twenty-Three

  The barbeque was a great time, but I didn’t manage to pop the question to Sam. There never seemed to be a good time for it, and I psyched myself out of it, fiddling with the little box in my pocket. We’d both mentioned marriage casually in the past, but we’d never had a direct conversation about it, and I hated the idea of embarrassing her in front of our friends if she didn’t feel ready to say ‘yes’ yet. So proposing at a party was out.

  I went to speak to my mum about it all that weekend, and she surprised me by frowning slightly.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, alarmed. I’d thought that my mum loved Sam, but maybe-

  “What ring are you going to give her?” my mum asked. I blinked, blindsided.

  “I bought one,” I told her, patting my pockets and digging the ring box out to show her.

  “Pretty,” she said noncommittally when she opened up the box. Her tone was off somehow, and I frowned at her, my stomach fluttering with anxiety butterflies.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Stay here a minute, love.”

  She eased herself up from the creaky, sunken sofa, and I heard her climb the stairs. I couldn’t figure out what the matter was, and I shifted restlessly as I waited for her to return. Sam had texted me to ask about dinner, but I didn’t reply yet. I needed to know why my mum had seemed so subdued when I broke the news to her.

  “Here we are.”

  I looked up as she returned to the room, settling back on the sofa with a sigh. She had a faded plastic bag in hand, and I watched as she opened it up, brushing off the dust, and revealed a small jewellery box. The velvet covering was worn at the corners, and it was a deep, emerald green.

  “Go on,” she urged me, holding it out.

  I set aside the ring I’d bought, the box plain black, and took the box she offered me.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it up,” she prompted without answering.

  The box’s hinges were stiff, clicking when I pulled them apart. Like a stubborn clam, the beauty inside when I got it open took my breath away.

  “Mum…” I said quietly.

  The ring inside was a rich blue, an arrangement of sapphires clustered around a small diamond. It was nothing extravagant, but it was modestly beautiful, and I could think of no ring that’d suit Sam more. The plain one I’d bought for her now seemed painfully inadequate.

  “I hope you have the receipt,” my mum said, sounding gently amused. I looked up at her, still reeling from the reveal.

  “What receipt?”

  “For the other ring.” Her smile faded slightly at whatever shocked expression was still on my face. “Oh, don’t you like it?” She glanced down at the little ring box in my hands. “It was my mother’s. But if it’s not to your taste, or Sam’s, then-”

  “No, no, it’s stunning, Mum. I- Are you really sure you want to give us this?”

  I swallowed around a lump that’d risen in my throat. I’d only reunited with my mum recently, and I almost couldn’t believe that she was trusting me with something as important as this. A family heirloom that she wanted to pass onto me and my girlfriend. Tears welled up, my chest tight.

  “Of course, I’m sure,” my mum said warmly, coming over to wrap me up tightly in her thin arms.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, love.” She gave me a warm, open smile, free of reserve or worry. “You know when would be the perfect time to give it to her?”

  “When?”

  “On your anniversary. Sam let drop that it was approaching the last time she was here.”

  “She comes to visit on her own?” I said, slightly surprised.

  She’d mentioned dropping by my mum before, but I always imagined that it consisted of Sam knocking on the door and never coming inside, though why I thought that, I wasn’t sure. Both Sam and my mum were unfailingly friendly people.

  “She sure does. She’s a sweet lass.”

  “She is,” I agreed readily. “Damn, is our anniversary soon? It completely slipped my mind.” I had it written down in my phone calendar, so I wouldn’t have missed it entirely, but the i
dea of making it more special by proposing on the day hadn’t occurred to me.

  “Don’t wait too long, Darren,” my mum advised with a gentle chiding. “You both love each other, don’t you? Seize the moment.”

  “I will.”

  Nerves churning my stomach up into a whirlwind of uneasiness, I led Sam over to the river-side restaurant I’d booked for us. I’d asked to hire the entire balcony area for ourselves, requesting that the staff would be discreet about it because, as far as Sam knew, we were just here for an anniversary meal.

  “Is this place new? I don’t recognise it,” Sam said, almost to herself as she looked around.

  “You like it?”

  “Of course, love, it’s beautiful. Look at that view.”

  We were shown out to the balcony and offered drinks before, with a knowing glance in my direction, the waiters left us alone. I took a hurried sip of my beer and turned to look out over the river and York. It was a mild evening, but the sky had darkened threateningly, and I hoped it was going to start pelting down.

  Sam reached over the table and took my hand. “Are you alright?”

  “Oh, aye, I’m fine,” I tried to reassure her, but her expression remained concerned.

  “If you’re too tired for this, or you’re not feeling well, we can go home, baby.”

  “I know,” I said, unable to help a smile. “I’m okay, I promise.”

  We ordered our mains, and despite my nervousness, our talk was as easy and lively as it always was. It only made me even more certain that I was doing the right thing tonight.

  The sun was beginning to slip down under the horizon, casting a bloody glow over the yellow buildings of York’s pretty cityscape when the wind began to pick up. I eyed the darkening clouds up above and felt like I could all but taste the rain in the air. We hadn’t eaten dessert yet, but I knew if I waited any longer, it’d either start hammering down or else I’d melt into a puddle of nerves.

  I waited long enough for the staff to come and take away the plates from our main meals before I took a deep breath.

  “Darren?” Sam questioned gently, looking both amused and concerned. I curled my fingers around the ring box in my pocket, reaching out with my other hand to take hers in mine.

  “I’m not the best with words, you know that,” I said haltingly. I’d reversed this speech in my head many times late at night when I was struggling to sleep, but faced with her expectant expression, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my mind.

  “Love?” Sam prompted when I fell quiet.

  “You’re the best thing to happen to me, no competition,” I told her. “I love you more than anything.”

  I had so much more I wanted to say, but Sam’s eyes were already shining with what I hoped was happiness, and I’d run out of words. I slipped out of my seat and caught Sam’s intake of breath as I knelt down beside the table and lifted the green ring box from my pocket.

  My throat thickened, and I looked up at her for a long second before I managed to get the words out, “Samantha Rosanes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  Her face split into a smile, and she pressed her hands to her face, her eyes welling up with tears as she gave a shocked, choked little laugh.

  “God, Darren, I had no idea,” she murmured. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, you sap. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, too, baby.”

  A relieved grin spread over my face, and I let her pull me to my feet, holding her close and revelling in the idea that this was forever, now. She wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was I. Whatever happened after this, we would be a pair. With her at my side, I felt like we could tackle anything at all.

  The restaurant staff and the other customers applauded us, and I smiled shyly as I slipped my grandmother’s ring onto Sam’s finger.

  “It’s perfect, Darren,” she told me warmly, kissing me again.

  I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy.

  Epilogue

  I’d become immersed in the story as I relayed it to Liam, and there was a heavy silence as I finished. We’d taken a break for coffees halfway through, but even that had long gone cold, though I swallowed the dregs anyway to wet my dry mouth.

  “I certainly remember the end of that case,” my wife said gently.

  I was glad she’d sat down and joined us today. I hadn’t set out to tell the story of me proposing to her, but it’d become tangled up with the case itself, and it’d found its way out of me. I still remembered how nervous I’d been and how rapturous I’d felt when she said yes as if it had happened yesterday.

  “Best ending to a case,” I agreed, smiling. Douglas and Liam were looking a little lost, so I turned to them to explain, “It’s our anniversary today.”

  “Oh, congratulations! How many years?”

  I hummed as I did the maths. “Must be forty-two, now. Yes, that’s right.” I smiled at my wife. “Proposing to Sam was the scariest thing I’d ever done.”

  “Really?” Liam said, clearly dubious. I had to laugh.

  “Really.”

  “Even when you nearly drowned?”

  “Scary in a different way,” I conceded, still smiling.

  His expression made it clear that he couldn’t fathom how asking someone to marry you could be more nerve-wracking than police work, but Douglas’s knowing smile told me that he understood.

  Liam cleared his throat. “My dad said I need to round things off this time,” he told me, making it clear that was a direct quote from his dad. “Because this’ll be the last story from you to go in the paper.”

  “Okay,” I said, willing enough but not sure what he wanted.

  “I have some questions,” Liam told me before continuing without waiting for an answer. “When did you retire?”

  “Retire? Oh, it must have been fifteen years ago, now.”

  “You stayed at Hewford till the end?”

  “Sure did. Sam and I both did.”

  “What about DI Huxley?”

  “When did he retire? Around the same time as me. He moved away to work as a DCI at another station, though.” I gave a slightly sad smile. I’d missed him badly when he’d left, though I’d been over the moon for him, too, of course. “He was too good to stay as my junior partner forever.”

  “Do you think he’ll talk to me? Give me a quote?”

  “Absolutely,” I said warmly.

  I gave the lad Stephen’s address and phone number, both of which I knew off by heart. He was my oldest friend, and we kept in touch regularly even now, especially since his wife had passed away a couple of years ago. His children kept him company, but I knew it wasn’t the same.

  “That was everything,” Liam said, closing up his laptop.

  He looked solemn, and I gave him a small smile, but it wasn’t returned. Now that we’d finished up the last case, he seemed uneasy and unhappy, and I wished that I could make it better. Douglas had noticed his son’s change of mood, too, and he sent me an apologetic look. I gave him a nod. I didn’t envy the guy; moving house was disruptive for anyone, but especially when you’ve got kids at school age.

  “Thanks for everything,” Douglas said finally.

  “Thank you,” I said to them both, but especially Liam. He’d sought me out and spent his time talking to me and writing up my case stories. “It’s been our pleasure to get to know you both.”

  Liam managed a smile at that. “Thanks for the hot chocolate. You make it best,” he mumbled.

  “You can thank Sam for that,” I chuckled. “She’s the expert.”

  “I’m sure I can give you the secret recipe to take with you if you want it,” my wife told him.

  Liam perked up enough to accept, and Sam took him through to the kitchen to write it down for him. Douglas’s shoulders sank after Liam left the room, and I gave him a sympathetic look.

  “He’ll settle in fine. He’s a confident, smart lad,” I tried to reassure him.

  “I know. I mean, I hope so,” Doug
las sighed. “It’s just all the what-ifs, isn’t it? He’s been so down lately, and it’s a lot of guilt. I could’ve stayed here, after all, but-”

  “You’ve got to give it a shot, just like when I left Lockdale. I felt horribly guilty for leaving my partner and everyone I knew behind there, but it changed everything for the better in the end. It’ll work out, Douglas, I’m sure of it.”

  He blew out a breath and offered me a weak smile. He looked tired, worry about Liam overpowering any excitement he might have felt about the move.

  “I really hope you’re right.”

  Liam came back into the room with Sam’s hand resting maternally on his shoulder. He sent a look between Douglas and me, clearly wondering what we’d been talking about. Sharp lad, I thought wryly.

  “We’ll come and visit soon, of course,” Douglas told us as Liam started packing up his things.

  “Not for ages, though,” Liam muttered.

  “Liam!” Douglas scolded.

  “It’s true.”

  I shared a look with Sam, not sure what to say. She gave a little shake of her head, advising me not to get involved. Douglas exhaled a sigh.

  “Look, how about we set a date?” he tried.

  “For when we can come back?” Liam said, sounding curious despite himself.

  “Yes. How does a month’s time sound to you both?” Douglas asked us.

  “Sounds perfect,” Sam said.

  Having a date laid out seemed to help Liam a lot, and he was more like his usual, relaxed self as he finished packing up his things. His speech gained speed as he animatedly talked about his plans for the paper at his new school and what he was going to do to bring it up to scratch and maybe enter some student journalism competitions.

  “You’re going to go far,” I told the lad at the door, ruffling his hair. “Be good for your mum and dad, okay? They love you very much.”

  Liam looked a little shamefaced and turned away as he muttered, “I know.”

  “Good lad. We’ll see you next month, okay?” I squeezed his shoulder.

  “If you’re not having way too much fun down in Devon,” Sam teased. “They have surfing down there, you know.”