BURY ME DEEP an utterly gripping crime thriller with an epic twist (Detective Rozlyn Priest Book 1) by JANE ADAMS (best romantic books to read TXT) 📕

“The what?”

“You know. Singing through your nose with one finger in your ear?” He laughed at Rozlyn’s expression, then demonstrated for her benefit, inserting one fat digit into his left ear and droning loudly through his nose.

Jenny, just entering the room, gave him a slow handclap. “Very nice, boss. Missed your calling.”

“Less cheek from you. Our clerical inspector here wanted to know if I’d heard of Donovan. I was just giving her my best impression.”

Rozlyn, looking at Jenny, had the satisfaction of realising that the joke was lost on her.

“Right,” she said doubtfully. Then, “I think we’ve got a lead on Clara Buranou. And who’s this Donovan anyway?” She glanced back at Brook who was preparing once more to wedge his finger in his ear. “Never mind, boss, you can enlighten me another time.”

“Clara Buranou,” Rozlyn prompted her.

“Got a call, Mr Anonymous, reckoned she was at the bus station. I’ve got someone keeping an eye.”

“Anonymous? Who the hell else knows we’re looking for her?” Big Frank, she replied to her own question the moment it was out. Big Frank knew. She frowned, wondering what the man was playing at.

“You two getting off then?” Brook demanded. “Stand around here and she’ll have skipped it again.”

“You had a call about ten minutes ago,” Jenny told her as they got in the car. “I didn’t know you were back. Someone called Stevens in Art and Antiques, reckoned he’d got something on that Donovan character.”

Rozlyn smiled. “Not the folk singer, I take it?”

“Not unless he leads a double life. Stevens wants you to phone back, but he’s emailing anyway. Sounds like Donovan is someone they’ve been after for a while.”

“Oh?”

“Sorry, can’t tell you more, he was about to go into a meeting. He just called to let you know he was onto it and would you call him back later.”

That sounded important, Rozlyn thought. She nodded. “Good. Ok, let’s see if we can round up Clara Buranou.”

CHAPTER 26

Morning, chill enough to cut to the bone. The rain had passed in the late afternoon of the day before and the clouds fled, leaving open skies that had brought frost. Morning had dawned bright and treacherous and frozen. Two nights ago, the moon had been full and winter had begun and in his bones, Treven knew that the kindness of the softest autumn he could recall in many years had passed and winter would breathe harsh words.

Treven shivered despite the thick cloak pulled tight around him. Smoke rose from the roof of the smith’s forge and the fierce hot glow of the fire bellowed his and Hugh’s reason for standing there. Hugh, clad only in linen shirt and sleeveless tunic, held himself so stiffly he looked carved in stone, only the blue of his lips betraying his chilled body. He had said nothing all morning. Nothing either, so Osric told him, since Treven had left him last night. Now it was all in the hands of God. “All Father,” Treven breathed. “If he is truly innocent then aid him now. If he is guilty, let him die swiftly.”

Kendryk, three of his senior monks beside him, observed closely as the bar was heated in the fire. Treven watched him, studying his face. He too was pale and tense, the death mask features accentuated as he leaned in towards the fire. Hugh had claimed judgement by the church and, that being done, Treven could only look on, helpless and useless.

The tramp of feet behind him caused him to turn. The brothers arrived, accompanied by the twelve who would be oath keepers beside Eldred. They had come from Theading and others from Bearwell, still others from the lands the brothers had inherited from their kin, bringing their wives and children to witness this ritual of law in which Eldred would swear oaths to clear his name and Hugh would risk his life in pursuit of the same end.

“Hugh,” Treven had begged, “let me pay the blood price. My land will serve as promise. Or allow me to send word to your kinsmen so that oath takers can be found. They would come . . .”

“And take me back to worse? No, Treven, I will not permit it. They would come to see me shamed, then take me home like a badly behaved child. And as for payment, as you’ve said yourself, if I’d a mind I could give my brooch and other jewels from my father’s house. The geld could be raised, but I’ll have none of that either. I’ll walk from here a free man, clear in conscience and unstained by guilt. I will endure this, Treven, and I will be victorious.”

After that no more could be said and Treven had spent a sleepless night waiting for the dawn.

“Come forward, Eldred and declare your purpose here,” Kendryk demanded and then stepped back, deferring to Treven.

“By the oaths I have declared before the king, I will hear you fairly,” Treven told them. “Eldred, you stand charged of brutal murder. Your wife Cate died five days past and you stand accused of her killing. I ask you, how do you plead?”

“I will swear and have brought as decreed twelve good men to help my oath, that I laid no hand on my wife that led to her death. And further, I accuse Hugh de Vries of being the one that took her life. Unto that end, I do demand justice.”

Treven surveyed the twelve men Eldred had brought with him. “Hugh de Vries has no oath helpers to stand beside him,” he said, “instead he has chosen judgment of Almighty God. He will endure the ordeal of fire and iron. Have you more to say on this matter?”

“I have said all the words I must,” Eldred told him. “If Hugh de Vries