Michael Fowler - Heart of the Demon

Yet somehow Hunter no longer had the appetite or indeed the energy to rejoice. It felt almost as if every last drop of adrenaline had been squeezed out of him. He was totally drained. The long days and sleepless nights had finally caught up with him. He’d only drunk one full pint, and a little of his second but he knew that had gone to his head.

He was so deep in thought that he jumped when the hand was placed on his shoulder. He jerked around quickly to be greeted by Barry Newstead’s beaming face.

“Penny for them Hunter.”

“Crikey Barry, you made me jump. I was somewhere else just then.”

“Thinking about Grace and Robyn?”

“Yes, them and Paul Goodright, and the families of the other victims.”

“Careful Hunter you’ll have someone thinking you’ve gone soft.”

They both cracked a grin.

“Anyway what are you doing out here?” enquired Hunter. “Why aren’t you celebrating with the others? That’s not like you? People will be talking that Barry Newstead is going on the wagon.”

Barry dug Hunter in the ribs. “I’m on a promise.”

Hunter widened his eyes. “My, my; we are a dark horse. Tell me more.”

“Sue Siddons.” Barry paused.

Hunter returned a pleased look.

He continued. “The enquiry got us back together, made us both realise what we had lost. Not just Carol, but years of friendship. She’s going to straighten herself out now that she’s got closure. She’s started going to AA meetings.”

Hunter patted Barry’s upper arm, gave him a reassuring look. “Hope it all goes well for you Barry. I really do, you deserve it. You’ve been a good ally to me on this investigation…”

Barry pulled him up short. “Getting soft again Hunter.” He winked and downed the remainder of his beer. Wiping the dregs from around his mouth with the back of one of his huge hands he said, “Fancy another?”

Hunter shook his head. He glanced at his watch. He knew at this time that Beth would be just getting the boy’s supper ready before their bedtime. He emptied his glass and set it down onto one of the wooden benches.

“No thanks Barry, that’s me done. I’m not even going to say goodbye to the team — I’m knackered. I just want to get home, put my feet up and watch the ten o’clock news for once.”

As he made for the side gate he already knew what he was going to do. It seemed to have been an eternity since he’d last had some R amp; R, even though they’d done a family holiday at half term in Minorca. He was going to book a cottage on the North East coast for Beth and the boy’s — at one of his favourite spots. He might even be able to smuggle along his paints.