by Grace York
"Morning," said Layla, putting the kettle on. "Who wants tea?"
"Good morning. Why don't you make a pot," said Addison.
"Good idea. Morning, Mrs Jones."
Mrs Jones greeted Layla and offered her sympathies all over again, and Addison's mind once again turned to Patrick. So young, and with so much to live for. What could have possibly driven him to take his own life?
"It doesn't make any sense," said Layla, and Addison knew she, too, was thinking of Patrick. It was going to be tough to get the household through the coming days and weeks.
"I know," said Addison. "I don't think we should try and make sense of it. Suicide is not something those left behind can ever easily explain."
Layla scooped tea leaves into the tea pot, then tossed the scoop back into the tin. She sighed and braced herself with both hands on the bench. "What do we do, then? I'm lost all over again, Addison."
Addison wiped her hands on her apron and guided Layla to the stool next to Mrs Jones. "I'll finish the tea," she said.
Mrs Jones put a comforting arm around Layla while Addison tried to think of something helpful to say. She came up empty, but it didn't seem to matter. Layla hadn't really wanted an answer.
The rest of the household drifted in and out of the kitchen, fetching tea and coffee and breakfast items. Ivy took a cup of tea back to her room. Adam made himself a coffee and stayed in the kitchen, eying the blueberry muffins Addison pulled from the oven.
"You can have one," Addison said. "Just give them five minutes to cool."
"Thanks," said Adam. "What are you going to do today?"
"I was going to do some grocery shopping in Riverwood," she replied. "We're getting low on a few things. But it can wait, given the circumstances. I think I'd better stick around here and keep an eye on the girls. They were both pretty shaken up."
Adam nodded. "Yes, they were. Do you want me to go and get the groceries?"
"I could go with you," Layla suggested.
Addison managed half a smile. "Yes, thank you both. That would be a big help. Do you think you could drop these off to Hazel's on your way?" she asked, indicating the finished scones and muffins.
"No problem," said Adam. He reached for a muffin. "Better do some quality control first."
He was halfway through the muffin when Amelie appeared in the kitchen. Her eyes were red from crying.
Addison gave her a hug. "Have you been up all night?" she asked gently.
Amelie nodded. "Yes. I just can't understand it. I know we only met a few months ago, but I thought we were friends. Good friends. Maybe even more than that. I don't know why he couldn't talk to me about whatever was bothering him."
"Try not to let it worry you too much," said Addison, although it felt like a lame thing to say. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"
"Yes, please."
"Do you know anything about Patrick's family?" Adam asked.
Addison poured Amelie a cup of tea and put it in front of her. She wrapped both hands around the cup. "All he told me was they don't speak anymore. I don't know if that meant brothers or sisters, or parents, or both. He didn't want to talk about it, and it didn't seem to matter much at the time."
"The police should be able to locate them," said Addison. She wondered whether his estrangement from his family could have something to do with his death. She was going to ask Amelie more questions, but the poor girl was clearly still traumatised. "Why don't you go back to bed," Addison suggested. "I've got some sleeping tablets from the chemist, I could give you one of those if you like. You should try and get some rest."
Amelie nodded and was about to speak when Addison's phone rang. She checked the display – Detective Wilcox.
"I'd better get that," she said, picking up the phone and swiping it to answer. "Hello?"
"Mrs Lake, it's Detective Wilcox. There's been a development. I need to come and re-interview everyone who was present at the time of Patrick Wilde's death."
"What do you mean, a development?" Addison's eyebrows were raised. All eyes in the kitchen were upon her.
"The autopsy was carried out this morning. Patrick Wilde did not commit suicide."
"Then what…" Addison felt her legs go weak. "Oh, my goodness. You mean…"
"I'm afraid so. He was murdered."
5
By the time Wilcox and Short arrived, Addison had sent Layla to deliver the baked goods to Hazel's cafe and gathered everyone else around the great-room dining table. Ivy, Adam, and Amelie were all there. Ivy had called her brother Dan to come back, and Detective Wilcox had asked Jason and Louie to join them at the beach house. Addison laid the table with the extra scones she'd made this morning, but no-one was hungry.
"Thank you all for coming," said Wilcox after he and Short took seats at the head of the table. His white shirt showed small patches of sweat under the arms, and Addison thought he looked very uncomfortable. She couldn't believe this was the second murder he was investigating in the three months she'd been in Getaway Bay.
"Are you certain Patrick was murdered?" asked Amelie. She'd launched into a fresh bout of tears and anguished screaming when Addison had told the group why Wilcox was coming back so soon. Her eyes were still red now, her pale skin blotched and angry.
"We are," said Wilcox. "I'm sorry I can't give you any more details than that," he added, when Amelie opened her mouth again. She swallowed whatever it was she was going to say.
"The time of death has been narrowed to somewhere between four and five pm yesterday," said Short. She always looked and sounded so official. Addison wondered if she ever really clocked off duty. "We need to ascertain exactly where each of you were for that period of time. Addison – let's start with you."
"I was in the kitchen cooking dinner for the most part," Addison replied as Short began to take notes. "I was making a casserole, and I wanted to get it in the oven before I joined the group for drinks on the verandah."
"Were drinks on the verandah a regular thing?" asked Wilcox.
"Oh, yes." Addison explained how the group had taken to gathering each afternoon before dinner to unwind and discuss their day's work.
"So you were in the kitchen for the whole hour?" Short asked Addison.
"Yes. Actually, no. Jason called me out the front for a few minutes to discuss his progress on the landscaping out there. That might have been during that time?" Addison looked to Jason for confirmation.
"I think it was just after four when I asked you to take a look out the front," said Jason. "It would have been only about ten minutes, though. Then you said you had to get back in to the kitchen."
Short continued scribbling in her notebook. "You were in the kitchen for most of the hour, except for approximately ten minutes when you were out in the front yard of the house."
"That's correct."
Short turned to Jason. "And you were in the front yard the whole time?"
Jason nodded. "I wanted to get the flower bed in front of the verandah finished. I was out there from three o'clock until Ivy started screaming. Except for when I stuck my head in the front door to call Addison out."
"What about you?" Short asked Louie.
"I was out the back," said the tradesman. "We pulled all the rotted wood out of the shed earlier this week, and I was replacing it with new boards. I had my headphones in, I didn't hear anything. I came inside after it was all over and everyone was here at the table."
"You didn't come into the house between four and five o'clock?"
"No, Ma'am."
Addison noticed Short's eyes narrow at being called 'Ma'am'. She wondered why Short was taking the lead with the questioning, and Wilcox was sitting back. She figured he must be observing everyone, and it was only then that it occurred to her that they were all suspects in Patrick's murder.
Of course they were. If he'd been murdered between four and five pm, and they were the only people in the house at the time… one of the people at this table must be a killer.
Short moved onto Ivy. "Y
our room was right next to the deceased," she said. "What were you doing during the hour in question?"
"I was in my room with Dan," said Ivy. "My brother. We were catching up, we haven't seen each other for a while."
"I'm from Cairns," said Dan. "Like I told you yesterday I have some business in Riverwood. Addison was kind enough to invite me to stay for dinner last night."
"Your wife and children went to the Gold Coast yesterday," said Short.
"That's right. They left early in the morning. I did some work, then came to see Ivy. I arrived here around half past two, three o'clock. Something like that."
Wilcox leaned forward in his seat. "What kind of business are you in?"
"Cyber security," said Dan. "I mostly work with small businesses, make sure their systems are secure against hacking."
Wilcox nodded to Short, who continued questioning Ivy. "So the two of you were in your room, which is right next to Patrick's, for the hour between four and five pm?"
"Yes," said Ivy.
"Did you hear anything? A struggle, perhaps?"
Ivy shook her head. "We put some music on, I'm afraid. I didn't think we'd be disturbing Patrick from his work, I know he likes to write with headphones on. We didn't hear anything from his room. Well I didn't." She turned to her brother. "Did you?"
"No," said Dan. "We were out on the verandah for a time," he added. "But we kept to Ivy's side. She was adamant we shouldn't disturb Patrick. She said he was working on something new. We were very careful to keep away from his room."
"I wish we hadn't been now," said Ivy. "Knowing what he did…"
"Except he didn't," said Adam. All eyes turned to him. He sat back, hands perched on his head. "Well he didn't kill himself, that's what they've said. That's why we're here."
"Oh. That's right," said Ivy. Her eyes widened at Wilcox and Short. "How can you be so sure? I mean, we found him there like that…"
"We're sure," said Wilcox.
"Where were you?" Short asked Adam.
"In my room. I was editing, which I like to do with headphones. I listen to heavy metal while I edit. It helps me weed out all the rubbish."
"So you were listening to heavy metal through headphones from four until five?" Short clarified.
"Yes. Sorry, I'm no use to you."
"And you?" Short asked Amelie. "Your room is right above Patrick's, correct?"
"That's correct. I'm painting the scene from my window; I can see the beach from there. That's what I was working on yesterday afternoon."
"Did you hear anything from downstairs?"
Amelie shook her head. "All I could hear was Ivy's music."
Short continued to ask questions of the group, switching her attention between each of them, sometimes repeating questions she'd already asked. Addison did her best to focus, but was distracted when Layla arrived home with the groceries. Instead of the planned trip to Riverwood, she'd just been to the local store for a few essentials. Addison watched her cousin take the supplies through to the kitchen, then join them at the table.
"You weren't here at the time of the murder, correct?" Short asked Layla.
"That's correct," said Layla. "I was at the gallery site going over the plans with my contractor. I didn't get here until after it had happened."
Addison was still struggling to comprehend that a second person had been murdered in Getaway Bay in just a few short months, let alone that this time the killer might be here in her house.
"What about an intruder?" she asked Wilcox. "Surely you can't rule that out."
"Not at this stage," he replied. "But it does seem highly unlikely. If Jason was out the front the entire time, then an intruder would have had to come in through the back door. But Louie was out in the backyard, he should have been able to see any intruder out there."
"I was inside the shed for most of the time," said Louie with a shrug. "Someone could have slipped by me."
"It's possible," said Wilcox. "But then they would have entered through the kitchen, where Addison was busy cooking for all except ten minutes of that hour."
"Could someone have killed Patrick in those ten minutes?" asked Layla.
"It's possible," said Wilcox again. "But it would have taken either some extremely good planning on their part, or else a lot of luck, to get in and out without being seen."
"Plus, it doesn't answer the other big question," added Short.
"Which is?" Addison asked.
"How did the killer get out of Patrick's room when both doors were locked from the inside?"
6
"That's right," said Ivy. "I couldn't get in. Patrick's balcony door was locked, and so was the door to his room. Dan had to kick it down."
"He usually worked with the balcony doors open," said Addison. "I wonder what made him close them yesterday."
"They were open earlier," said Jason. "I noticed both sets of French doors were open when I first went out to the front garden."
"Did you see when Patrick's were closed?" asked Short.
Jason shook his head. "No. I was working on the flower bed right in front of the verandah. The balcony was above me, so I couldn't see onto it for most of the afternoon. I heard the music coming from Ivy's room, that's how I knew her door was open."
"If only we hadn't been playing that music," Ivy said to her brother. "We might have heard something."
Dan's head tipped to the side. "We weren't to know, Ives. Don't blame yourself for this."
The table fell silent, and Addison didn't know what to do. Surely none of these people could have killed Patrick? She was desperate to find out what made Wilcox so sure it was murder rather than suicide, but he wasn't going to give his reasons in front of a table full of suspects. Maybe she could get him alone and see if she could squeeze the information out of him.
"I think that's all we need for now," said Wilcox. "We're going to take another look at Patrick's room."
"Can I fix that door yet?" asked Jason.
"No. It's a crime scene, and we need to get forensics back in here. I'll have to ask you all not to touch anything before they get here."
The group dispersed, but Addison remained seated. She took a deep breath. This was all too much.
"Let's move into the kitchen," said Layla. "I'll make you a coffee."
Addison nodded and followed her cousin, leaving the scones still on the table. She could throw them out later.
"Are you all right?" Layla asked. She turned the coffee machine on and got the milk from the fridge as Addison settled herself on a stool at the bench. She'd never sat on this side of the kitchen before. Her kitchen.
"It's all… I don't… Oh, Layla. How can this have happened? It was bad enough thinking Patrick had taken his own life here in my house, but… murder?"
Layla grimaced.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Addison. "This must be hard for you, after Jenna."
"We'll get through it together." Layla finished making the coffee while Addison tried to pull herself together. If one member of her household was a murderer, then the rest of them needed her more than ever.
The doorbell Jason had installed a few weeks ago rang, and Addison went to answer it. Wilcox got to the door at the same time.
"It'll be the forensic team," he said. Addison nodded, and Wilcox opened the door. A man and two women in overalls carrying bags of equipment trooped into the house, and Addison nearly lost it all over again. It was like a scene from one of those television crime shows.
Wilcox told the forensic team where to go, and the three of them took the front staircase up to Patrick's room. Wilcox made to follow them, but Addison held him back.
"Do you really think one of the people in my house killed Patrick?"
"I'm struggling to find another explanation at the moment," he said. "But let's wait until we've got all the facts."
"And you're sure it was murder? Not suicide?"
Wilcox nodded. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but yes. I'm sure. The pathologist confirmed it."
"How?"
"I can't—"
"Don't give me that, Isaac. This is my house. These are my boarders. I need to know."
"Why? So you can launch into another private investigation? Like you did with the Jenna Dallimore murder?"
"That's not fair. She was my cousin, and you were blaming Layla. I didn't do anything to get in the way of your investigation, did I?"
Wilcox shrugged. "I guess not. But I can't be giving you information in this case, Addison. You're too close."
"You mean I'm a suspect?"
"Until I can rule you out, yes. I'm afraid so."
Addison opened her mouth but nothing came out. She closed it again and walked away, leaving Wilcox to trudge up the stairs after his forensics crew.
Back in the kitchen Layla was preparing a salad. "Is anyone coming over tonight?" she asked as Addison walked back in.
"I don't think so," Addison replied. For the last couple of months some of the locals had been gathering at the beach house on Friday evenings for a barbecue. It started after Jenna's funeral, and despite the circumstances that night Addison had enjoyed hosting so much that it soon became a regular thing. Hazel and her husband, Martin, always came, as well as Mrs Jones and her dog Bella. Jason was usually working on the house on Friday afternoons, so he often stayed, and sometimes Juliet and Josie Porter joined them as well. With Addison, Layla, Olivia when she was home from school, and now the house guests, they usually ended up with a lively crowd. Addison put on simple barbecue meat and salads, plus everyone brought something to share, so there was always plenty of food. Tonight though, knowing that Patrick's death would be all over town by now, she didn't think anyone would expect the barbecue to be on.
"Let's just cater for the household," said Addison. "Plus we'd better count Ivy's brother. I think he's still here somewhere."
"They've taken Charlie for a walk on the beach," said Layla. "Amelie and Adam are in their rooms. There's an extra tray of sausages in the fridge, we can always pull that out if anyone else shows up." She looked up from chopping salad items. "Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."