Brittle Shadows (24 page)

She blushed.
Some things were best kept to herself. Or at least until she figured out where
her relationship with Ethan was headed. “Good old-fashioned exercise and fresh
air.” Kerry had added a jog through the park to that morning’s session, so not
a lie. “Was that a yes to coffee?”

He glanced at
his watch. “Can I take a raincheck? I don’t have a lot of time. What was it
that you wanted to show me?”

She passed him
the letter from the table.

Before touching
it, he withdrew a pair of latex gloves from his trouser pocket and snapped them
on. “Can’t be too careful.”

She looked at
her fingertips. Why hadn’t she thought about that?

“Don’t worry,
if you decide to make this official, your fingerprints will be needed for
elimination purposes, anyway. But if this person has any smarts at all, he
won’t have left any prints.” He unfolded the sheet of paper, his forehead
creasing as he read the contents. “You can’t ignore this, Jemma.”

She took the
letter back and reread it. “But there’s actually nothing overtly malicious in
it, is there? Err on the side of caution and go home,” she said, paraphrasing
the message. “What am I supposed to do? Run back to Perth with my tail between
my legs on the say-so of some unknown person?”

“Yet you don’t
want to report it, either,” Chris said.

“Not yet. You
said it yourself: we need concrete proof. If we’re going to lobby for the case
to be reopened, we need more.”

“I like this
we.” He scratched under his collar. “You don’t make it easy, do you?”

“Do you really
want me to answer that?” She gathered up the two note fragments from the table
and handed them to him. “Check out the words on the last line. I think the
person who penned that is the same as the letter.”

“You could be
right.” He sighed. “But I still don’t see how any of this is implicated in your
sister’s or her fiancé’s death.”

She beckoned
for Chris to follow her. “There’s more.”

Without a word,
he trailed her into the study.

“Shit, it’s
gone.” She upended papers, magazines, checked under the desk, inside her laptop
bag, everywhere.

Chris looked on
in bewilderment. “What’s gone?”

“A DVD I wanted
to show you. I saved a copy to the hard disk, but that’s not the issue. If the
original DVD isn’t here that means someone’s been in and taken it.”

“Maybe you just
misplaced it. When did you last see it?”

“Yesterday
afternoon…” Her heart sank. Who was the one person who knew she would be out
for the evening?

“Okay, work
forward from there. What did you do after that?”

“I went out.”

“Who knew you
were out?”

“The person who
I was with.”

“Who was?”

“Ethan Kelly.”

“The property
manager bloke?”

“Yes. Hang on.”
She closed her eyes, thinking. “I did tell Fen I was going out, but she was in
no state to be going anywhere. Ash was with her when I called.”

Chris scowled.
“Ash Bartlett?”

“Must you?”

“Must I what?”

“React like
you’ve stepped in doggy doo every time I mention a Bartlett. What happened to
your ‘innocent until proven guilty’ maxim?”

Chris’s hazel
eyes flashed. “Quite right. Thank you for the reminder.”

She couldn’t
tell whether he was being sincere or sarcastic. “I was also out for about an
hour and a half earlier this morning.”

His mouth
twisted from side to side, as if chewing on what she had told him. “Okay, first
things first, show me the copy of the DVD you saved.”

She powered up
her laptop and popped open the DVD drive. No disc. Egg on her face would have
been a small price to pay. Chris watched over her shoulder as she located and
opened the QuickTime file. She maximized the screen, pressed play, and wheeled
her chair to the side to give him an uninterrupted view.

He watched it
in silence, his jaw clenched. When it had finished, he said, “Tasteful. Where
did it come from?”

“I found it
taped to the inside of the wardrobe door. How it got there, your guess is as
good as mine.”

“You think
Tanya put it there?”

She shrugged.
“She was the only one living here. What do you think it means?”

“Just like you
said, it’s anyone’s guess. Do you recognize the two blokes?”

“The one
looking at the camera is Sean, but you probably knew that already. As to the
other man, I don’t have a clue. What about you?”

Chris’s face
darkened. “What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing. I
just thought maybe the tattoo of the spider on his shoulder might mean
something.”

He stared at
her.

“Yes, I know,
too many cop shows.”

“No, it’s not
that. Play it again.” He hunched forward, his nose scant millimeters from the
screen. “How on earth did you work out it was a tattoo of a spider? Do I need
to get my eyes tested?”

She chuckled
and alt-tabbed back to the Explorer window. “Here, look,” she said,
double-clicking the still image she had captured and zooming in. “Spider,
wouldn’t you say?”

“Or a crab.
Hard to tell.”

“A crab? That
doesn’t look like a crab.” She squinted at the indistinct eight-limbed
creature, her head almost knocking with Chris’s. “Does it? How many legs does a
crab have?”

“Now you’ve got
me.” He pulled back. “You’re probably right. Crabs have big pincers. Okay, we
have your sister’s fiancé doing unspeakable things to a man whose only
identifying feature is a tattoo of a spider on his shoulder. Sordid, I admit,
but how does it translate to evidence of homicide?”

Jemma plonked
back down onto the chair and swiveled to face him. “You’re the detective.”

“Detective,
yes, psychic, no.”

She ran a hand
through her hair. “What if Sean was blackmailing the other guy? Wouldn’t that
be motive for murder?”

“Possibly, but
there’s nothing here that points to extortion. Also, it’s a bit hard to prove
anything without knowing the identity of the other party.”

“But you do
agree it’s worth looking into?”

“Given the
fact, your sister had concealed the DVD and now it’s gone – or at least the
original – then yes, it warrants further investigation.”

Jemma clapped
her hands together.

He held up a
finger, his face stern. “But if we’re going to do this, it has to be on the up
and up, which means making it official.”

“Correct me if
I’m wrong, but we only get one shot at this. If I rock up at a police station
with the little I have, I’m not going to be taken that seriously am I? Just
another grief-stricken relative, they’ll think. Don’t forget, Tanya raised
doubts about Sean’s death and got nowhere. Even her friends didn’t believe her.
Can you understand where I’m coming from?”

He gave a slow
nod.

“I could really
do with your help,” she continued, “but as a friend, not a policeman.”

He didn’t say
anything for a minute, staring at her as if he had X-ray vision. “It’s not
quite as simple as that. I’m glad you think of me as your friend. Nevertheless,
being a police officer isn’t just a job. It’s a way of life. I don’t walk away
at the end of my shift and forget that’s what I am. My duty is to uphold the
law at all times, not just when I’m at work.”

“Sorry, Chris.
I didn’t think it through. So,” she said, getting to her feet, “know any good
private investigators?”

“Private dicks
are pricey. You don’t want to be squandering your hard-earned cash on an
unguaranteed outcome.”

“Money isn’t an
issue.”

“No?”

She laughed.
“Don’t look so shocked. Appearances can be deceptive.”

“None of my
business.”

“Actually, it’s
not my money, it’s Tanya’s. I saw the lawyer on Monday. Her estate is worth a
lot more than I expected. I had no idea she owned shares in Bartlett
Developments, let alone how many.”

One eyebrow
arched, but he said nothing.

“So do you?”
she prompted.

“Do I what?”

“Know any good
private investigators?”

He scratched
his jaw. “Not any I would trust. All the ones I know are disgruntled ex-cops.
Look, I said I would help and I meant it. What I can’t do, though, is use
police resources on a private investigation. So no accessing case files or
anything like that, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

The intercom
buzzed.

“That’ll be
Lee,” Chris said, turning his head toward the door. “I have to go. Do me a favor,
email me a copy of that video to this Gmail address.” He scribbled on the back
of one of his business cards.

“The file is
too big to send by email,” she said, palming the proffered card. “But what I
can do is upload it to an offsite server and email you the link. Keep in mind
that depending on your connection speed, it could take some time to download.”

He nodded.
“Have to cut and run, sorry.”

After he left,
Jemma returned to the study and transferred copies of the QuickTime file to
both a memory stick and an offsite server. Couldn’t be too careful. She emailed
Chris the link as promised, and then set about turning the study inside out,
just in case the DVD had slipped behind, under, or between something.

No luck. She
sank into her chair, the ramifications clear. Sometime during the evening,
someone had broken in and stolen the DVD. How had they known where to look?
Maybe they didn’t. Every time she had thought of calling it a night, Ethan had
beguiled her into staying. Not that it had taken much. She hated the thought
that their date had been nothing more than a ruse to get her out of the
apartment. But she couldn’t discount it. Especially when there was no sign of
forced entry.

Her mobile phone felt like a lead
weight in her hand. Twice she had gone to ring Ethan and twice she had backed
out. He hadn’t called her, texted her, nothing. She didn’t want to be the first
to call, but he left her no choice.

“It’s Jemma,”
she said, when he answered.

“Hi! I was just
about to call you.”

“Busy morning?”

“You can say
that again. No rest for the wicked.” He laughed.

She waited for
him to go on, but he didn’t. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Ethan,” she said,
filling the void. “I really enjoyed myself.”

“Me, too. We’ll
have to do it again soon.”

Soon
. A catch-all for maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe never.
“Definitely.” She cleared her throat, closing
her eyes
as she tried to muster her thoughts. “There’s something else I need to speak to
you about. One of the top-selling features of these apartments is supposed to
be the security system, right?”

“Yesss,” he
said, drawing out the word. “Are you telling me there’s been another breach?”

“Someone
entered the apartment while I was out last night and stole something.”

“Are you sure?
You couldn’t have just misplaced it? What was it?” His concern sounded genuine.

“Yes, I’m sure.
What it was isn’t important – the fact someone was able to gain access to the
apartment is.”

“And you’ve
spoken with security, had them check the records and surveillance data?”

“Not yet,” she
said. “I’m not their favorite person at the moment. I thought it would be
better coming from you.”

“Yes, well…” He
paused. “Tell me everything and I’ll see what I can find out.”

“That is
everything,” she said, only then realizing what a near on impossible task she
had set him. How many people had entered and exited the building between the
hours of 7 p.m. and midnight? At least she had been able to pinpoint the time
of the first incident. “Check the audit logs. If anyone’s tampered with
anything, there will be a gap in the sequential numbering. That’ll narrow down
the time frame.”

“And if there
isn’t?”

“Then I’m going
mad.” She heard a female voice in the background telling Ethan he had another
call.

“Leave it with
me,” he said, his voice all business. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know
anything.”

She hung up,
none the wiser to how Ethan felt about her. Or her feelings for him. What did
it matter, though? She would be gone before anything serious could develop. The
most she could hope for was a holiday fling. With a snort, she rose to her
feet.
Holiday
? She really was losing the plot.

The intercom
buzzer sounded at the same time as her phone. Torn between which to answer
first, she hesitated. The phone was closer. She grabbed it, answering it as she
lunged toward the intercom monitor.