Cuthbert's Way (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #17)(20)

Ryan chose not to imagine what his sergeant meant by ‘keeping up with’ Denise and focused on the safer topic of the man’s daughter instead.

“She’s a good kid,” he said. “Full of spirit, and sharp as a tack.”

“She’s an absolute belter,” Phillips agreed. “Y’nah, we were only sayin’ the other day, it’s as though Sam was made for us—right the way down to her red hair and freckles. Who’d have thought a little girl would turn up lookin’ the double of Denise?”

He sighed, happily.

“I thought we were too late,” he continued. “Denise thought that n’all, but it’s never too late to give a child a good home.”

Ryan knew the adoption process had been lengthy, fraught with bureaucracy and emotional turmoil. He’d been called upon to provide references for his friends, and the only problem he’d found in doing so was a lack of room on the paperwork, so he could list all the many and varied reasons why any child would be bloody lucky to have Frank Phillips and Denise MacKenzie as its parents.

“That’s not to say there haven’t been teething problems,” Phillips said. “The thing is, you and Anna have known Emma from the very beginning. You’ll be there for her all the way through, and get to know what makes her tick. With Samantha, we missed out on the first eight years of her life, and those are some of the most important.”

Phillips shifted in his seat, thinking of how best to express it.

“Fact is, we might know her parents’ names, and what they did for a living, but we also know they left all kinds of trauma for Sam to deal with—"

“It’s not every baby who remembers its mother being killed,” Ryan agreed. “Or has to live with the knowledge that their father was no good. Bearing in mind all that, she’s adjusted to her new life incredibly well.”

“We’ve tried to do our best,” Phillips said. “There’s been a bit of counselling on the side and, to be perfectly honest, son, I’m relieved her birth parents aren’t on the scene, anymore. There’s no chance of either of them popping up, out of the blue, to claim her back and upset her all over again. God, I feel awful saying that.”

“It’s understandable,” Ryan said, and indicated to take the slip road off the A1 as they neared the junction east towards the Howardian Hills, north of the ancient city of York. “Do you think Samantha’s settled in, now?”

“Aye, she’s got her feet under the table, all right,” Phillips chuckled. “Has us both wrapped around her little finger, that’s the truth of it.”

Ryan flashed his sergeant a smile.

“You and me both,” he said, and heaved a theatrical sigh. “I don’t know how we manage to get ourselves into these scrapes, Frank. We could have been living it up, out on the tiles every night…a pair of good-lookin’ stallions like us would have cleaned up at Bigg Market on a Friday night.”

Phillips laughed, knowing fine well that Ryan had never been to the clubs in Newcastle’s legendary Bigg Market on a Friday night, or any other night.

He’d never lived…

“Aye, all very well for you, maybe. You’ve got half the women in CID still carrying a torch, not to mention Samantha, who’s still got that crush—”

Ryan was a bit embarrassed. “On me? I’m old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah, but you look like a bleedin’ superhero and she’s been watching all those Marvel films, hasn’t she? Every time your name comes up, it’s all, ‘Ryan’s so handsome’ and ‘Ryan’s so kind’…it’s enough to put me off my quinoa. Mind you, with the way you’re going, you’ll be looking more like Superman’s older, knackered brother, soon enough.”

“Flatterer,” Ryan said, deadpan.

Phillips laughed.

“Seriously, though, I can’t help noticing you’ve been burning the candle at both ends, lately, son. I know you’ve got Emma but—”

“It isn’t that,” Ryan interrupted him. “She’s five months old now and sleeps really well, except when she’s teething. Besides, we’ve had plenty of help from my parents.”

“What is it, then?” Phillips asked. “Operation Bertie?”

Ryan gave a brief nod.

“I know it’s been months now, but I feel it, here,” he said, rapping a knuckle against his chest. “This isn’t over yet and, until it is, I won’t rest.”

His words hung on the air as the landscape changed, and the car began to wind its way through the rolling countryside of the Howardian Hills, which undulated on either side of the road and were flanked by rich woodland, all tinged with a sprinkling of winter frost.

It might have been something from a postcard.

“Whoever killed this monk had an eye for window dressing,” Phillips murmured. “What was the name of the place, again?”

“Crayke College,” Ryan said. “Next turning on the left.”

Phillips spotted a collection of ancient stone buildings peeping through the trees and prepared to revert to ‘work mode’.

Before then, he had one final thing to say.

“You’re not imagining it,” Phillips said quietly. “I know, in our game, we’ve usually got things wrapped up quickly, then we’re on to the next adventure. This is harder, because we still don’t know who we’re dealing with, we only know they’re out there.”