Authors: Vicki Tyley
“Nice to see
you, too.” He flashed her a disarming smile and, without waiting for an
invitation, settled down in one of the chairs on the other side of the table.
“Any more where they came from?” he asked, nodding at the two empty cans on the
table.
Jacinta frowned.
“You could at least have rung the doorbell.”
“I did. And I
knocked.”
At least
Daniel’s request for a beer meant he wasn’t on duty. “Be back in a minute,” she
said, rousing herself from her chair to go inside to raid Brett’s supplies yet
again.
She returned,
plonking a Foster’s Lager and an empty glass on the table in front of Daniel.
Beads of condensation ran down the beer can, puddling at the base.
“Thanks,” he
said, pulling the tab and releasing a hiss of carbonation. “I didn’t take you
for a beer drinker.”
“It’s too hot
for wine. Anyway, to what do I owe this honour?”
“I was passing.”
He finished pouring his drink and then raised his glass. “Cheers!”
“No ulterior
motive?”
Daniel put his
beer down and he drew his chair in closer, the shadow from the market umbrella
darkening his features. “Jacinta,” he said, his demeanour and tone suddenly
more serious, “I need your help.”
“With
babysitting, you mean?” she asked, knowing full well that wasn’t the purpose of
his visit.
He blinked and
shook his head. “No, but,” he said, stumbling over his words, “if you’re
offering…” Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands together on the table in
front of him and started again. “The remains of the second body found in the Toolangi State Forest have been identified.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “And it’s not
Kirsty Edmonds.”
Jacinta sat
upright. “Has Narelle been told yet?”
“No, and this is
where – unofficially, of course – you come in. I think she probably knows a lot
more than she’s telling us, but is too scared of someone or something to say
anything.” He opened his hands, revealing his palms. “If she thought you were
taking her into your confidences and passing on information from the police,
she might then trust you enough to do the same.”
Jacinta tensed.
“You don’t seriously expect me to be your mole?”
“That’s not the
word I would’ve used,” Daniel said, arching one eyebrow.
“What, then?
Spy?”
“I know you
think of Narelle Croswell as your friend, but how well do you really know her?”
“Better than I
know you, obviously.”
“What if she’s
withholding information that could help put a killer behind bars? Information
that could put her own life at risk? Wouldn’t you want to help then?”
“Daniel, would
you quit talking in riddles and tell me what the hell is going on.”
Lowering his
voice, he said, “Not that you have nosy neighbours, but perhaps we should
continue this inside.”
If he was trying
to pique her interest, he was succeeding. Hoping it wasn’t simply another ploy
to get to Narelle through her, Jacinta gathered up her glass of beer and the
empty cans. Daniel opened the French door, holding it for her, before following
her through to the kitchen.
She dumped her
load on the stainless steel draining board and turned to see him checking out
the front of the fridge.
“When was this
taken?” he asked, pointing with his glass at one of the photos Brett had taken
the night of the dinner party.
“A few weeks
ago. Does it matter?” she said, putting herself between him and the fridge. The
photo he seemed most interested in featured Narelle and Craig, Shauna and
Patrick, and herself, all crammed together at one end of the outside table,
grinning tipsily at the photographer. She gestured in the direction of the
living room. “After you.”
Daniel started
to say something, but the sound of the front door opening interrupted him.
“Honey, I’m
home!” Brett sang out, appearing a moment later with his gym bag slung over his
shoulder, his hair damp. “Daniel, hi. Didn’t realise you were here.” He grinned
and stuck his hand out. “How are you, mate?”
Jacinta might as
well have been invisible for all the notice Brett took. Without even looking at
her, he accepted the beer she handed him and ushered Daniel through to the
living room. She took the unexpected opportunity to remove all the photos from
the fridge, shoving them face down in the utensil drawer. Then she rejoined the
men.
When she sat
down on the sofa next to Brett, he placed his hand on her knee, acknowledging
her presence but not missing a beat in his conversation with Daniel. She
listened idly to their banter, her mind more caught up in what Daniel had been
about to tell her before Brett arrived home.
The remains of
the two women found in the Toolangi State Forest had been identified and
neither was Kirsty Edmonds. All Jacinta knew, other than that, was that both
victims had been shot and one of them used to work for the same stockbroking
firm as Craig Edmonds. Was the second victim also linked to Craig in some way?
What had Daniel been alluding to when he mentioned Narelle’s life could be at
risk?
Daniel’s deep
voice broke through her thoughts. She jumped, taking a second to realise Brett
wasn’t beside her any longer and Daniel was looking at her.
“Sorry,” she
said, shaking her head, “What did you say?” She wondered where Brett had got to
and then heard the toilet flush.
Daniel laughed.
“I gather the footy is not your thing. Shame, you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’ll live,” she
retorted. “Now, what were you about to tell me earlier?”
“Maybe now isn’t
the best time,” he said, glancing at the doorway and then at his watch.
Maybe not, but
Jacinta wasn’t about to be thwarted. “Answer me one thing: is the second woman
you identified in any way linked with Craig Edmonds?”
Daniel’s eyes
widened. “What makes you ask?”
“Please, Daniel,
just tell me. Is she?”
“Okay then, yes.
However, it’s only a tenuous connection at this stage. She was the architect
employed by the Edmonds when they put the extension on the back of the house.”
“This is before
Kirsty disappeared?”
“Yes, she was
reported missing about six months before Kirsty, but the work she did on the
house was a year prior to that.”
Jacinta stared
open-mouthed at Daniel, her brain manically trying to fit the pieces together.
“Now do you
understand why I asked for your help?”
Feeling more
flummoxed than ever, she started to shake her head, before halfway through
changing it to a nod. “But what I don’t understand is why, if Craig Edmonds is
securely tucked up in a psych ward, you have Narelle under surveillance.”
Daniel scratched
the side of his face, his eyebrows lowering as he held her gaze. “We don’t.
Where did you get that idea from?”
Before she could
reply, Brett came back, his hands clamped around another three cans of
Foster’s.
Daniel took it
as his cue. “Thanks, but I’d better not, I’m driving,” he said, checking his
watch again. “I also promised the boys I would take them to the park,” he
added, getting to his feet. “Jacinta, think seriously about what I said and
call me.”
“I’ll tell you about it in the
car.” Jacinta snatched her keys from the hook. “Hurry up!”
Leaving the
front door open for Brett, she raced for her car. He followed seconds later,
his unbuttoned shirt flapping about his chest, the fly in his jeans gaping.
Jacinta drove hard, taking corners at speed and throwing Brett around as he
endeavoured to finish dressing.
“Christ,
Jacinta! I want to get there in one piece.”
Mumbling an apology,
she eased off the accelerator a fraction before the thought of Narelle,
frightened and alone with a gun, changed her mind again.
The Nissan
Pulsar screeched to a stop in front of the Edmonds house. Jacinta left the car
idling as she scanned the driveway and the front of the large brick home. Both
garage doors were closed and all the curtains were drawn. As far as she could
see in the low light, that was the same situation at every house down the
sleeping street. Not even the birds were awake.
If it hadn’t
been for Narelle’s hysterical pre-dawn phone call, she and Brett would still
have been tucked up in bed, too. A noise out by the swimming pool had convinced
Narelle someone was out to get her, and no amount of reasoning was going to
sway her otherwise.
Brett yawned,
his hand catching only the end of it. Thinking there would be safety in
numbers, she had roped a sleep-dazed Brett into coming with her. Now he sat in
the passenger seat next to her, his seatbelt still buckled. She glanced at his
shirt, stifling a small chuckle when she realised he had miscalculated by at
least one buttonhole.
“What’s so
funny?”
She pointed at
his shirt, peering past him to the house while he unbuttoned and rebuttoned his
shirt.
Staying home alone in a place that size would be enough to test
anyone’s nerves
, thought Jacinta.
Without any added stresses
.
Jacinta
unbuckled her seatbelt, turned off the ignition and, with the keys clasped in
her hand, got out of the car. Brett followed suit, yawning as he waited for her
on the footpath.
“Wakey, wakey.”
“Wait.” He
grabbed her arm. “Do you really think this is a good idea? What if Narelle
isn’t hearing things? Don’t you think it’s about time we involved the police?”
“No,” she said,
shaking his hand off her arm, “I promised her I wouldn’t. You know how Narelle
feels about the cops, and she already thinks I’ve betrayed her once. Stay here
if you want, but I’m going in.”
Without giving
herself time to change her mind, she strode toward the Edmonds’ front door,
anxiety heightening all her senses. Brett caught up with her in the same
instant she pressed the doorbell. The resulting strident, metallic peal
shattered the dawn stillness, making them both jump.
She pressed her
ear up against the door, stepping back when she heard footsteps approaching on
the other side. A few seconds later, the door opened slightly, Narelle’s pasty
face appearing in the gap. With a quick check of the area behind Jacinta and
Brett, she ushered them inside and hastily relocked the door.
Barefoot and
dressed only in pink love-heart boxers and a white singlet, Narelle seemed
unable to stand still. Her dark-circled eyes darted from Jacinta to Brett and
back again. Wringing, clenching and unclenching her hands, she headed down the
hall toward the lighted kitchen and meals area, her agitation growing with
every step.
Brett looked at
Jacinta, his bemused expression mirroring the expression she was sure must be
on her own face as he hurried after Narelle. Jacinta tried to stall him but her
fingers clutched thin air. Then she almost collided with him when, rounding the
end of the kitchen counter, he came to an abrupt halt. His eyes boggled, his
look changing to one of complete incomprehension, as he stared at the revolver
lying in the middle of the round glass table.
Seemingly
oblivious to the consternation caused by the presence of the gun, Narelle
circled the table, her hands constantly moving.
“Shit, Narelle!
I didn’t think you were serious.” Brett glared at Jacinta as if to say:
You
knew about this and you didn’t think to tell me?
She ignored him, adding,
“I sincerely hope it’s not…”
Narelle froze,
shushing her with a finger to her lip. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
Jacinta heard
nothing. Looking over her shoulder, she took a cautious step forward. Brett met
her glance with a shrug, mouthing words she couldn’t decipher as he reached out
to pull her back. Breaking free of his grasp, she padded across the room toward
Narelle.
“There,” said
Narelle, her voice a low hiss as she sidled to the end of the drape-drawn
windows. “You must have heard that.”
Jacinta shook
her head, but Narelle was too intent on peeking around the edge of the heavy
drape to notice. Brett touched the back of her hand, leaning in close to
whisper in her ear. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, Jacinta, but this
is way past a joke.”
Narelle waved
her hand in their direction, motioning them to the window. Crowded together and
with every nerve on end, they strained to see through the thin slice of
half-light to the shadowy courtyard. At that moment, a bird farting would have
been enough to send them all into a screaming heap.
Brett was the
first to peel away. “If there was anyone lurking out there before, I’m betting
they’re long gone by now.” He sighed, his hands going to his hips. “For
Chrissakes, would someone tell me what the hell this is all about?”
Still gripping
the edge of the curtain, Narelle responded with nothing more than a cursory
glance in his direction before returning to watching out the window. With an
exasperated shrug, he looked to Jacinta.
She pulled him
aside, whispering, “I only know part of it and it’s complicated. But I think it
should come from Narelle. Just give her a minute or two.”
Pointing at the
table, he made no attempt to keep his voice down. “And the gun? I suppose you
didn’t know a thing about that either.”
Before Jacinta
could answer, Narelle snatched up the revolver from the table. “The gun is
nobody’s business but mine,” she said, her forceful tone shocking Jacinta.
Narelle clamped the gun to her chest, her narrowed eyes challenging them.
“For Chrissakes,
woman, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Brett said, edging forward with his arm
outstretched, “or one of us.”
Narelle cackled.
“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not even loaded. See,” she said, waving it above her
head, her finger tightening on the trigger.
Jacinta dived
for the floor as the blast of the gunshot, amplified by the confines of the
house, reverberated above her. Instinctively, her arms came up to shield her
head, mashing her face against the hard, tiled floor.