A Watery Grave (Karen Cady Book 1)

by Penny Kline

  It was the rain that saved her. The path was already wet and now that the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour the track was turning into slippery mud.

  Pulling her arm free she jerked her elbow back as hard as she could, heard the breath leave his body, and, for a split second, felt his hands lose their grip. Then she was running, back across the bridge with the sound of his training shoes on the metal struts growing closer and closer.

  At the end the path divided. She swerved to the left, choosing the route that led back to town but quite certain by now that she would never get that far. Suddenly a dark figure appeared in the distance, running towards her, drawing level, then pinning her against the wall.

  ‘No!’ She tried to scream but no sound came out. Looking up at the man’s face she let out a gasp, then slid to the ground. Just before everything went black she uttered a single word – ‘Dad.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  She had endured her mother’s ravings, now it was her father’s turn. They were sitting in his office, with Karen perched on the edge of one of the chairs and her father seated at his desk, just as though she was one of his clients – except he wouldn’t have talked to a client the way he’d been talking to her.

  ‘Look, Dad, I know how you feel, but we’ve been over it dozens of times. All right, it was stupid, but I don’t see how I was to know . . .’

  He held up his hand. ‘As you say we’ve discussed the whole sorry business, done it to death in a manner of speaking.’

  ‘But it’s still not enough. You’ve made up your mind about me without even listening properly to my side of the story.’

  He smiled. A crumb, left over from his lunch, had caught in his moustache. Karen wanted to flick it away but now was definitely not the right time.

  ‘Don’t tell your mother I said so,’ he said slowly, ‘but all things considered you did rather well. Took far too many risks, of course, bit off more than you could chew, but—’

  ‘I know, if it hadn’t been for you I’d be six feet under by now. You’ve never explained – how you knew where I was?’

  He pulled open his top drawer and took out a folder. ‘You said you thought someone was following you.’

  Karen nodded. ‘A man in a dark coat. I thought it was Mr Stevens, Natalie and Joanne’s father. Then I wasn’t so sure.’ Suddenly it dawned on her. What an idiot. Why hadn’t she thought of it long ago? ‘You mean I couldn’t even recognise my own father.’

  ‘That’s because I was the last person you were thinking about. But I knew you were up to something.’

  She sighed. She was exhausted. So tired that she kept feeling she might suddenly burst into tears. The police had found Russell in the old hut by the railway line. He must have known Karen would tell them where to look. He didn’t care. Part of him had known all along it was only a matter of time. Perhaps there was even a part of him that had wanted to be caught.

  How could you feel sorry for a murderer? Natalie Stevens had threatened to ruin his career, spoil everything he had worked so hard to achieve – but surely she hadn’t deserved to die?

  It was obvious to Karen now that Russell had only got to know her because she was interested in the murder, and because he knew her father was a private detective. She had been flattered, thought he really liked her and all the time . . .

  ‘At least Liam Pearce is in the clear,’ she said, standing up and walking across to the small window that looked out on the Salvation Army office across the other side of the street. ‘I wonder what’ll happen to him – with the baby and everything.’

  ‘Not much, I don’t suppose. His mother will carry on looking after it. Maybe Ann Stevens will take over now and again, just to give her a break.’

  Karen was thinking about the diary. Natalie’s diary. Only it wasn’t Natalie’s. Russell had put it there himself. Filled in Glen’s initials, then soaked the pages in water and smeared them with mud. Why? To divert her attention away from himself. But he was the last person she had suspected. Perhaps he hated Glen. Hated him for having a rich father who was going to give him a good job, regardless of his qualifications.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, standing up and resting her hand on her father’s desk. ‘You must have wasted hours keeping tabs on me. Why didn’t you say something, tell me to mind my own business?’

  ‘You’d have listened, would you?’

  She laughed. ‘No, I don’t suppose so.’

  ‘It’s not funny, Karen. If you want to come into the business you have to learn from the bottom.’ Then he noticed her expression. ‘Oh, it’s no good looking so triumphant. You’ve a long way to go yet, all those courses to complete, exams to pass.’

  She gave him the sweetest smile. ‘Yes, all right, but I could help in the office. At weekends? Typing letters? Sorting out files?’

  He walked towards the door. ‘You can start now if you like. Tea bags are in the tin next to the electric kettle and I’ve bought half a dozen new mugs and a pan scourer – just like you said.’

  To read the next exciting book in The Karen Cadey Mystery series, click here

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