Cold Grave by Craig Robertson Read Free Book Online

had killed her – the one her family wanted her to marry. Certain of it, so he was.’
    Kenny shrugged, seemingly unconvinced. ‘Paedophiles. That’s what I heard. She was a runaway, living rough and the bastards killed her.’
    ‘Poor girl,’ Narey lamented. ‘It must have been horrific.’
    ‘Aye. Months before she was found,’ Dazza agreed, half an eye on the barman standing just a few feet away. ‘Horrible.’
    ‘A bag of bones inside a red anorak,’ Kenny added coldly. ‘All broken up and left there to rot.’
    Suddenly all three jumped as the sound of breaking glass rang through the pub. The pint tumbler that was being dried had slipped from the barman’s grasp and shattered on the floor, sending shards flying to all corners.
    The two drinkers on either side of Narey grinned at each other as mocking jeers rose from the pub’s other customers.
    ‘That will be coming out of your wages, Bobby,’ Dazza laughed at him.
    Bobby Heneghan scowled back at his tormentors as he bent over the smashed tumbler, his hands shaking as he swept the glass splinters onto a plastic brush pan.
    ‘Get stuffed,’ he told them, an obvious tremor in his voice.
    A plump blonde in a pair of tight denims and a grey sweatshirt came round the side of the bar and squatted down beside Heneghan, slipping an arm round his shoulder.
    ‘It’s okay, Bobby, I’ll clean this up. You’re due for a break anyway. Go and get a seat and I’ll get Moira to bring you a cup of tea.’
    Heneghan nodded silently and got to his feet, slipping away without a backward glance and turning a deaf ear to the sniggers from the men beside Narey. The blonde stood too and glared at Kenny and Dazza.
    ‘Leave him alone,’ she hissed at them. ‘I’ve told you two a hundred times. This time I mean it: any more of that crap and you’re barred. Both of you.’
    The men had the good grace to look shamefaced but Narey doubted they meant it. She glanced over to see Heneghan sitting in a chair in the corner, his arms crossed across his chest. Kenny and Dazza saw her looking and let their faces lapse into spiteful grins again.
    ‘Don’t worry about old Bobby,’ Dazza sneered. ‘You’d think he’d be over finding a body after all this time.’
    ‘Aye, silly old sod,’ Kenny agreed. ‘How about we get you a proper drink and tell you more about the murder?’
    Narey smiled sweetly at the pair of them and let a single word slip quietly from her lips: ‘Arseholes.’
    Bobby Heneghan looked up to see Narey standing at his side, his eyes immediately falling back to the table and the cup of tea that had appeared in front of him.
    ‘I’m really sorry,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know those guys and I didn’t realise they were winding you up. I’d never have . . .’
    ‘I know. It’s okay.’
    ‘No, really. I feel terrible about being part of that. They just started on about it and I . . . well, I didn’t know. Was it you that . . . found her?’
    Heneghan nodded without looking up, reached for the tea and edged the cup to his lips.
    ‘Do you mind if I sit down? I really feel like I owe you an apology.’
    ‘Forget it. It’s okay.’
    Shit, he was a stubborn old bugger. She needed to get him to open up.
    ‘It’s Bobby, isn’t it?’ she asked softly. ‘My name’s Rachel. Look, this isn’t any of my business but it is what I do for a living.’
    Finally, he looked up at her, a questioning look on his face.
    ‘I talk to people who have been through traumatic events to help them make sense of what happened and get to the truth.’
    ‘Like a counsellor?’
    She nodded.
    ‘I’ve seen similar reactions many times, even years after the event that causes it. Have you ever been diagnosed, Bobby? Because I’d be sure you are suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.’
    Heneghan’s mouth trembled as if he were going to speak but he didn’t find the words. Instead, he gave the merest shake of his head. Narey put her hand over his and squeezed it