The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) by Emmy Ellis (smart books to read .TXT) 📕

light seeped around the blinds. To anyone passing, it would appear as desolate as always.

Her phone blipped.

Jimmy: Okay. I’m in the kitchen.

The carrier bag of Bob’s clothes in hand, she let herself in, locked up, and poked her head into the living room. Jason was obviously where she’d left him—it wasn’t like he could sodding move, was it. The bloodstain beneath his leg had got bigger since she was last here, as to be expected, and his face had dried out a bit, presenting him as a burn victim, all that raw flesh with a hardening crust. His lower lip had ballooned even more, especially around the tight stiches, giving the top-of-a-love-heart vibe. The whites of his eyes told her he was out of it, the faintest bottom curves of his irises visible at the top. Red veins crawled up to them, lightning strikes produced by pressure, and her monster smiled at her handiwork, pleased she’d had it in her to inflict such pain.

How dare he want to swoop in and take what her father had spent so many years building up. All that hard work, handed to Jason on a gold plate? Not fucking likely.

She walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Jimmy poured boiled water into two cups. He looked tired and jumpy.

“All right?” She moved to the furnace and opened the door. Welcome heat blasted out, the force of it waving her hair.

“Bored, to be honest,” Jimmy said. “There’s nowt like being in your own home, is there.”

Cassie knew that feeling. While she’d loved staying at Mam’s, she’d missed her little flat. It may be attached to the house, but it still felt separate. Hers. “It does get like that, yes.”

She checked over her shoulder to ensure Jimmy wasn’t watching—he was adding milk to the cups—then whipped Bob’s uniform and hat out of the bag, shoving them into the furnace. Next went his shoes, shiny black ones, treading the beat no more, and his work phone, his ID.

She flung the carrier inside and snapped the door closed. “Owt to report other than the breakdown lorry incident?” She joined Jimmy at the worktop.

He blushed. “I’m right sorry about that. I didn’t expect anyone to come along, not at that time.”

“You’re entitled to fresh air, you know, just go out the back in future. It’s only miles of fields that way, no roads.”

“Okay.” He bit his lip. “I saw a fire. It was far away, like.”

“Yes, we needed to torch a vehicle. Nowt to worry about. It’s the usual thing. Had to get rid of it.”

She wasn’t going to elaborate, tell the truth. He could think what he wanted, wondering why she hadn’t used the car-crusher bloke straight away, why it even needed torching. No doubt Bob’s disappearance would make the local news, and the fact his patrol car was missing, and Jimmy would put two and two together.

Not a lot she could do about that. Nor could she do owt about any trackers on the police car. She assumed there was some way Control knew where the officers were. That meant, if the tracker had stopped working in the fire, the last location would still be known.

Shit. She’d have to get Mam to have a word with a new pig-in-their-pocket copper, one high up enough to steer nosy officers away from the squat. She quickly sent her a message to deal with that.

Jimmy drew her out of her head. “Shirl’s got hold of me. She’s got the flu, so if it’s all right with you, I’ll do the babysitting on my own.”

“Fine, so long as one of you is here. There’s a blow-up bed in the cupboard under the stairs, a foot pump, and a few blankets, a pillow. You can doss down in the living room.”

“Cheers.” He stirred the drinks then pushed a chipped mug across the worktop towards her. “He woke up. Jason. Didn’t seem to know what was going on.”

“I don’t suppose he did, considering the pain he’s in. The dickhead’s probably delirious.”

“Will he be here for long?” Jimmy sipped some coffee.

Cassie picked hers up and wrapped her hands around it to warm her cold fingers. “Is that you asking out of compassion for him? Or is it so you know how long you’ll be here?”

“The last one.”

“Good. Feeling sorry for him isn’t a great idea. He’s a snake, remember that. The shit he’s been up to behind my back…” She drank, pushing thoughts of Nathan Abbott out of her head, someone she’d killed. “But to answer the question, I don’t know. I’ve got something else to deal with, unfortunately, so Jason will have to remain here until I’m done. That could be a couple of days. I’ll try to nip back and finish him off before that, though.”

Jimmy flinched.

“What?” she said. “You know what I do.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but seeing it…”

She sighed. Honestly, she was too tired to deal with Jimmy having a wobble. “Have you got a problem doing this job? If you do, say so now.”

He appeared to struggle with the answer. Then, “Nah. I’ll do it. I said I would, and I won’t go back on a promise.”

Cassie stared over at the furnace, the flames going mental, burning the evidence. “Glad to hear it. I’m using you because I don’t want others knowing what’s going on, so asking someone else to cover for you, no ta. His mother, Gina… I don’t want her interfering. I’ll tell her afterwards, of course, let her know if she kicks up a fuss she’ll get the same treatment, but if she knows he’s alive and being kept somewhere, she may well go to the police, and that wouldn’t be wise.”

Jimmy swallowed, and it wasn’t coffee. “I’m not saying this in a bad way, just curious, because I need to know. How do you