Hit and Run by Maria Frankland (best book recommendations txt) 📗

“The subsequent text about the top of the range Audi and the Maldives holiday. Was this related to this expected windfall then?”

“Yes. But what I don’t understand is what all this has got to do with him getting killed yesterday?”

“We’re just putting the pieces together at the moment.” She twists the wedding ring around on her finger. “We got minimal forensic evidence from the scene.”

“What about CCTV?” Although I know there won’t be any around there. The road where Rob died is in the back of beyond.

“My team are doing some house-to-house. We’re hoping for dashcam and maybe some neighbouring farm footage.”

I wring my clammy hands together. If I don’t get out of here soon, I may well pass out. “Is that everything now? I need to be getting back to my son.”

“Right you are.” DI Green closes her notebook. “We’ll come back to you if we have any more questions. We also must have a word with your mother. Can you leave us her number?”

“My mother? Why do you want to speak to her?”

“Because along with yourself, and your son, she is one of the last people to have seen your husband before he died. It’s procedure. We need to rule her out of our investigation. And your neighbour who was taking her bin out.”

Fair enough. I take the page she slides towards me and write Mum’s number down. I scroll through my phone to find Christina’s number.

“Just one last thing Fiona.”

“Yes.” I’m taken aback at the sharp edge her voice has suddenly taken.

“Where were you at ten thirty yesterday morning?”

* * *

So far. So good.

It was always going to be a gamble. All of it.

Either the police are keeping their cards close to their chests,

or they’ve nothing to investigate.

Chapter 14

Jack wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his football pyjamas. “This has been the worst day ever. I just want Daddy to come home.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I cup his chin in my hand and kiss his forehead.

“It’s my birthday next week. I don’t even care about it anymore.”

“Daddy would still want you to try to enjoy it.” I think again of our wedding anniversary in a fortnight. Perhaps getting dressed up and going out together might have breathed some life into our marriage. Or perhaps not.

“I thought you said Daddy would be always watching over me.” Jack leans back against his pillows.

I smooth my hand over his hair. “He will. Always.”

“So why can’t I see him?”

“You can’t see people after they die, but they can still see you.” Here I go again. Talking twaddle which I can’t back up.

His lip trembles. “You won’t die too, will you Mummy?”

“I hope not.” I smile through my own tears. I hate seeing him like this. “Look Jack, I know it all feels terrible right now, but in time, if we look after each other, we will start to feel better.”

“How long will it take to feel like we used to again?” He looks wrung out, staring at me in the gloom of his bedroom. The late summer evening light is fighting its way around the edge of the blackout blind. I pray that sleep will rescue him soon.

“You must try to get some rest Jack. You’ll feel poorly at school tomorrow if you don’t.”

He grips my arm. “Please don’t leave me Mummy.”

I don’t feel as bad now for letting him stay at Sam’s last night. Jack’s such a sensitive soul, and this is going to take some coming back from. “I’ll only be downstairs with Grandad. If you need anything, all you have to do is give me a shout.”

He sniffs and reaches for his bear, which normally he only bothers with when he’s exhausted, or ill. “Can Grandad come and tuck me in?”

“Yes. I’ll send him up now.” Relieved that Jack’s feeling able to let me go, I kiss him on the forehead again, and rise from my perch on his bed. I could do with a few minutes to myself. I’m knackered.

“He’s asleep.” Dad says, creeping into the lounge twenty minutes later. He ruffles the top of my head before dropping into the adjacent armchair. “The cat is stretched out on his bed as well.”

“How on earth did you manage that? He wouldn’t let me leave him at one point.”

“He dropped off whilst I was reading him a story. I think the cat helped too. Bless him – poor little chap.” Dad shakes his head and his eyes seem to moisten. “How anyone could kill the father of an innocent boy is beyond me. If I could get my hands on them.”

“It’s only speculation that it was deliberate.” I stare at the TV. “Actually, it’s just been on the local news again. They’re not giving anything away yet – just appealing for witnesses and for people with dash cams or CCTV to come forward.”

“Aren’t they doing house-to-house for that?” He rubs at his temples, looking as weary as I feel.

“Yes. It sounds as though they’re doing as much as they can.”

Dad plucks his phone from his top pocket in response to its ringing. I always laugh at his phone. Well, I did when things were normal. I can’t imagine laughing at anything for the foreseeable future. It’s one step up from the phones of the nineties, with their pull-up aerials. He takes about ten minutes to compose a text message.

“Maggie.” Dad lifts the phone to his ear and rises from his chair. He walks towards the bay window. Whenever he’s on the phone, he always paces up and down. Even in the days of wired phones, he would go as far as the cord allowed. “Where are you?”

Pause.

“Why are you lying to me Maggie? I’m at Fiona’s right now. Which is where you’re supposed to be?”

Shit. It’s all unravelling. She must have told him she was still here. He doesn’t look angry, more confused.

“Lunchtime. And it’s a good job I did. She’d have been going through this on her own otherwise.”

This is a dad I have