Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(68)

‘Towan, open this door!’ She felt her way back up the stairs and banged on the door. ‘Dad!’ she called, but there was only the sound of the rats moving about.

Towan went back to Misty. Martin Stokes had already undone the horse’s rope and was leading him away from the house.

‘Better make it quick before the vet gets here,’ Stokes said. ‘This’ll get Brutus going. Come on, Misty, old fella.’

Stokes led Misty into the small paddock while Towan went to fetch Bluebell the mare. He tethered her just outside the gate. Misty whinnied as he caught a whiff of her scent, but then turned back to eating grass. Brutus was dancing on his strong legs as Towan held him tightly and led him through to the paddock.

Kensa had only flip-flops on her feet as she wrapped the blanket around her and marched up the hill in the direction of Stokes’ farm. The sharp cold air grated in her windpipe from the low mist and the cold. She could not see more than ten feet in front of her but she heard the sound of Misty as he whinnied and she felt her heart leap in her chest. She was within half a mile of the farm now, she quickened her pace. She jogged along the main road until she came to the lane that led to the farm. She turned her head to listen to the sounds; above the beating of her heart and the breath that rasped from her throat she heard the snorting of a stallion. She heard the squeals of fear and pain and the stamping of hooves.

Mawgan banged on the door. She kicked at it and felt it give a little but not enough. Her hard boots splintered the wooden door but it didn’t break. She raged and smashed the door with her fists until her knuckles cracked on the wood. She heard the squeals of pain. They were coming from her own lungs, her own strangled fear.

Marky was just parking up his jeep next to his cottage when Kensa ran past him. He opened his door and called to her but she didn’t stop. She was barefoot now. The blanket was gone. Her thin nightdress was flapping around her bare legs.

Marky heard the sound of the horses. He ran to catch Kensa up as she pelted into the yard and towards the paddocks beyond. Bluebell stood terrified, tied to the gate, as Kensa passed her and ran straight into the paddock to protect Misty. Stokes yelled at her to get back as Brutus reared again and stamped down onto Misty’s head as he lay on the ground. Kensa stood over her horse as Brutus reared again. Then the stallion was blasted back as Marky aimed the power washer from the yard at Brutus.

‘You fucking psycho!’ Marky said to Towan. ‘This had to be your idea.’ He opened the gate and went to catch Brutus. ‘Get the vet.’

‘We meant no harm,’ Stokes said as Towan slipped away.

Kensa lay across Misty’s neck and clung to him as sobs racked from her.

Towan opened the cellar door and Mawgan lunged at him. Her fists were bloody. All she wanted to do was get out of there. Towan stood in her way.

‘Move, Towan.’ She was shaking violently, but she couldn’t look in his eyes.

‘Say please.’

‘Move or I’ll kill you.’

‘Yeah – like you could?’ he hissed in her face. ‘You just do as you’re told.’

Towan was dragged backwards from behind before he had a chance to say more. Marky threw him out of the way as Mawgan made a run for it, and Marky landed a few punches into Towan’s head that forced them crashing into the kitchen table. Mawgan grabbed the cast-iron kettle from the Aga and swung it in the direction of Towan. It hit his back, bounced and then smashed into the cabinet and sent china crashing to the floor. Martin Stokes bellowed for them to stop as he stood in the doorway.

‘Mawgan, go and see to Kensa and take her upstairs. Stay with her till she settles down. Marky, you get back to your cottage and stay there – this has nothing to do with you. Towan, come with me, there’s a mess to clear up and a horse to bury.’





Chapter 32


Carter called Pascoe, who was already up in the helicopter. Carter could hear a distant drone.

‘I need the old police station available to me. I think it will be good to bring it home here.’

‘Okay, I’ll send officers over now to get it ready.’

‘Anything interesting from the video footage yesterday?’

‘We saw Jago and Marky doing a bit of beachcombing at Garra Cove. They saw us, which is the danger when we’re so obvious. I’m afraid we’re going to spook everyone.’

‘Yeah. How long till you’ve exhausted the search?’

‘Tomorrow will do it.’

Carter came off the radio and texted Willis where he was. She replied that she was on her way and then he walked across the street towards the dress shop.

Carter studied Mary-Jane Trebethin as he crossed the street. She was standing just by the entrance, leaning in to adjust a child’s outfit in the window display. She stopped fiddling with the display and stared at him through the glass; he thought there was something very quaint about her. She belonged in a dress shop in one of the more prosperous towns. Here she was queen bee with no one to impress. Here in this slightly shabby high street with sand blowing in and with poverty rife in the winter months. He wondered what kept her rooted to the seaside village.

‘How can I help?’ Mary-Jane said with a pinched expression; she had watched him coming and moved to the safety of the counter. Her bony hands and long, immaculately painted nails rested outstretched on the counter.