by Grace York
Wilcox shrugged and stuffed his notebook in his pocket.
"I'll get Patrick's things together later today and drop them off to the station," said Addison. "You said you'd send them to his family. Can I ask what family he had? He never mentioned anyone."
Wilcox eyed the container of cinnamon scrolls on the bench. "May I?"
"If you tell me about Patrick's family, sure."
"I can do that." He opened the container and chose one of the treats. Layla handed him a serviette when he joined them at the table, having already taken a big bite. "Oh, that's delicious."
Addison waited for him to finish his mouthful before prompting him. "Well?"
"Oh, right. Both of Patrick's parents are dead. He has two sisters, but they're estranged. To be honest neither of them seemed terribly upset at the news of his death."
"Really?" said Addison. "Where do they live?"
"Sydney. They said they lost touch with Patrick years ago. They believe he stole all of their parents' life savings."
Addison hadn't been expecting that. "Wow. How long ago was that?"
"Fifteen years, according to the eldest sister. Patrick claimed he'd lost the money to a con artist, but they didn't believe him. They say he kept it for himself."
"How much money are we talking about?" asked Layla.
"A couple of hundred thousand. We checked his bank accounts – if he did keep it he either hid it really well, or it's all gone now. We've got a forensic accountant going back through his records, but that will take more time."
"Do you think the money has anything to do with his murder?" asked Addison.
Wilcox shook his head and took another bite of the scroll. "It's unlikely. Not something from that long ago. The parents both died not long after the money went missing, so the two sisters were the only ones left out of pocket by it all. If they wanted revenge, or the money back, why wait fifteen years?"
"Maybe they didn't know where he was," Layla suggested.
"He was a well-known author," said Addison, shaking her head. "They would have been able to track him down if they wanted to."
"Anyway, we checked their alibis," said Wilcox. "Both were nowhere near Getaway Bay when Patrick was killed."
"So it's a bit of a red-herring then," said Addison.
Wilcox shoved the last of the cinnamon scroll in his mouth. "You could say that. Can you show me where you found that master key?"
"Sure." Addison led the way upstairs to her bedroom.
Wilcox paused at the door. "Do you usually keep this door open or closed?"
"Closed," said Addison.
"Locked?"
"No. I didn't see any reason to. Maybe I'm too trusting."
Wilcox said nothing, just raised his eyebrows slightly. Addison took it as a yes, especially in light of the circumstances. She opened the bedroom door and retrieved the key from its hiding place.
Wilcox had a good look around the jewellery box and its surrounds. "So it's possible someone could have come in here without your knowledge, taken this key, used it to lock Patrick's door after killing him, and replaced it at some point before you found it this morning."
"I guess it's possible, yes," said Addison. "But none of the house guests knew the key even existed, much less where it was. The only people who knew about it besides me were Layla and Olivia. Neither of them were here at the time of the murder." Wilcox stared at her, and it took a full minute for Addison to realise the implication of what she'd just said. "That makes me the most likely suspect, doesn't it?"
"Well it doesn't help your case," he said with half a smile.
"If I killed Patrick and used this key to cover it up, why would I tell you about the key now?"
"I know, you wouldn't. I don't think you're our killer. I told you that already."
"Who do you think it was?" Addison prepared herself for his usual line of not being able to discuss an ongoing case, but he surprised her.
"To be honest, I have no idea."
15
The rest of Saturday passed by in a blur of housekeeping as Addison and Layla cleaned up Patrick's room and packed his belongings into the two suitcases he'd arrived with. It was sad, really. His whole life amounted to two suitcases of clothes, books, and a few personal items. The police had taken his laptop and notes, but even with those it didn't amount to much.
Discussion at the dinner table that night was stilted. Addison remembered Layla's comment that Patrick may have been working on something other than a new book. She decided to see if anyone else had any idea what it could have been, and asked Layla to explain.
"He didn't say a great deal about it, to be honest," said Layla. "I just got the impression it was something different. Whether that meant a different type of creative project, or something else entirely, I'm not sure. He was quite secretive. He said all would be revealed in time."
"Do you know what he could have been talking about?" Addison asked Amelie.
Amelie shook her head. "I thought he was working on a new book. He didn't talk to me much about it. I was just pleased to see he was working again."
"Adam?" said Addison. "Do you have any idea?"
"Nope," Adam replied, putting a forkful of chicken in his mouth.
"He didn't talk to you about any secret project?"
"He didn't talk to me much at all after we argued on Tuesday. But no, nothing about a secret project."
"What about you, Ivy?" Addison asked. "You spent a bit of time with him this last week. Did he mention what he was working on?"
"No," said Ivy. "Like Amelie, I thought he was working on a new book. We didn't talk specifically about our work. Our discussions were more about the writing process in general. Patrick had a lot more experience than me; I guess I was trying to benefit from his expertise in the craft."
"At least someone was," Adam grumbled.
"I didn't ask him to read any of my work," said Ivy. "I was more interested in his experience as a writer."
The table went quiet then, and Addison felt uncomfortable as everyone continued eating. She regretted bringing up the discussion in the first place.
"Is Olivia coming home soon?" Layla asked, breaking the tension.
"Hopefully next weekend," said Addison. "She's working on a group project this weekend."
"It'll be nice to see her," said Layla. "How are her studies going?"
Addison and Layla got into a discussion about Olivia, and Adam joined in. He'd met Olivia the last time she'd come home, as had Ivy, but Amelie was yet to meet Addison's daughter. Nevertheless, it was a safe topic of conversation and they managed to drag it out for the rest of the meal.
Addison hadn't prepared dessert, and no-one wanted anything anyway. Adam, Amelie, and Ivy all said goodnight shortly after dinner and headed off to their rooms. Addison and Layla quickly cleaned up the kitchen.
"That got awkward," said Layla as she stacked the dishwasher.
"You're not wrong. I hope Isaac will hurry up and find out what happened to Patrick. I don't think I can stand much more of this. I can't possibly bear the fact that one of those people might be a murderer."
"I know. It's too hard. But it might not be one of them. It might be the contractor, Louie. Weren't we going to ask Jason about him?"
Addison wiped down the bench with a kitchen cloth. "Yes. I'll give Jason a call tomorrow. Do you want a cup of tea?"
Layla nodded and put the kettle on, and Addison got mugs and tea bags from the cupboard. While they waited for the kettle to boil she pulled her notebook out of the drawer in the sideboard.
"I think it might help if we go over what we know," she said. "I feel better once I write things down."
"Whatever will help," said Layla. "You get started, I'll make the tea."
Soon they were settled at the kitchen table with mugs of steaming tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits. Addison flipped her notebook to a fresh page, pen poised.
"Right. As we don't want to believe one of our boarders is a killer, let's start with Lo
uie." She wrote the name 'Louie Liu' at the top of the page then drew a bullet point underneath.
"Well there's the inconsistency in what he told you versus what he told the police, for a start," said Layla.
"Right. He came into the house once we were all seated at the dining table. He said he heard screaming, and asked what happened."
"But he told the police that he was out the back with his headphones on and didn't hear anything."
"So which is the truth?" said Addison. "Did he hear screaming, or not? And if he did, why did it take so long for him to get inside? The rest of us heard Ivy scream when we were out the front. We all came inside, went upstairs, Dan broke the door down, we found Patrick, etcetera. It was only once we were back downstairs that Louie came in. That must have been at least four or five minutes after the screaming, if not longer."
Addison wrote all this down under Louie's name. He was definitely at the top of her list of suspects. She chose a biscuit from the plate and dunked it in her tea.
"Do you have to do that?" Layla asked.
Addison smiled. "It makes the chocolate all soft and nice," she said, licking the melted chocolate off the biscuit.
"It's gross," said Layla.
Addison shrugged. "Anything else about Louie to note down?" she asked, and popped the rest of the biscuit in her mouth.
"Not until after you speak to Jason about him. He's not from Getaway Bay, I guess you could put that."
Addison did so, then drew a line underneath the notes. "Who's next?"
"Adam," said Layla. "Amelie says he argued with Patrick two days before the murder. And there's whatever Wilcox spoke to him about today. What was that?"
Addison put down her pen and sipped her tea. "Adam has an old arrest on his record. I tried to catch him this afternoon to ask about it, but I didn't get the right opportunity. I'll try again tomorrow."
"Arrest for what?"
"I probably shouldn't say…"
Layla rolled her eyes. "Now you sound like Wilcox."
Addison smiled. "Yeah, sorry." She lowered her voice, despite them being alone in the kitchen. "Attempted murder."
"What? Really? Gees, Addison. He's living in this house. You didn't think this might be important to mention?"
"It was a bar fight that got out of hand, not anything premeditated. Isaac said the charges were dropped. He spoke to Adam about it today. I figured if there was any cause for concern, he would have told us."
"Even so," said Layla. She sank further in her chair, looking more shocked than Addison had predicted.
"Everyone makes mistakes," said Addison. "Adam was young at the time. I'm sure it was nothing. I can't see him as a killer."
Layla pointed to Addison's notebook. "You'd better write it down, though. While we're compiling a list."
Addison made the notes, then reached for a second chocolate biscuit. She drew a line under Adam's entry, then wrote Amelie next.
"She was in love with Patrick, but the feeling wasn't mutual," said Layla.
Addison wrote 'unrequited love' next to the first bullet point.
"Patrick thought she was stifling his creativity," Layla continued.
"What does that even mean?" asked Addison.
"I don't know. Maybe she was a bit stalker-like?"
Addison couldn't see it. But then Amelie and Patrick had only been at the beach house for two weeks. Did she really know much about either of them?
"Ivy seemed to be getting close to Patrick in the week before his death," said Addison. "I wonder if that could have contributed to Amelie's unhappiness."
Layla shrugged and drained the last of the tea from her mug. "It's all very confusing. I can't see how any of the boarders could have done this."
Addison agreed. "I really hope not. I'll speak to Jason tomorrow about Louie."
"Even he seemed like a decent person," said Layla. "Can we really discount the intruder theory?"
"Isaac says it's unlikely."
"Unlikely isn't the same as definitely not."
"True," said Addison. "Maybe we're looking at this all wrong. Maybe we should be looking at Patrick, rather than the suspects. Why would anyone want to kill him?"
"And also, we should be looking more at how it was done," said Layla. "Whoever killed Patrick planned it enough to make it look like suicide. What was the noose made from?"
"Um, I'm not sure." Addison had tried to block the sight of Patrick's lifeless body from her mind. "Hang on." She closed her eyes, and it didn't take long for the image to come floating back. "It was a piece of rope."
"So not something that would have been lying around Patrick's room, then."
"No probably not. The killer must have brought it with them. You're right, whoever did this planned to make it look like suicide. Which means they planned to kill him."
16
Addison was awake at six on Sunday morning. She'd tried to sleep in, as it was the one day of the week she didn't have to get up and bake for Hazel's cafe. But she couldn't get Patrick's murder off her mind. She wasn't going to sleep well again until the mystery was solved.
And what a mystery it was. The short window of opportunity meant the suspects were restricted to the people in and around the house at the time. The problem was, Addison couldn't see any of them as potential murderers. They all seemed so nice.
Adam, Amelie, and Ivy – her boarders. She'd allowed these people to live in her house. Her home. She shouldn't forget Ivy's brother Dan, he'd been here too. But he was also really nice. He'd fixed the problem with Addison's computer and refused to charge her anything. And he was a family man in town on business, keen to catch up with his sister in his spare time.
None of them were murderer material.
Then there was Jason, who Addison had already proved wasn't a killer. They'd become friends while he worked on the beach house, and in the wake of Jenna's death. No, Jason couldn't have killed Patrick.
Which left Louie Liu. Addison didn't know much about him, but he seemed like a good guy and a good worker. She had to admit he was her most likely suspect out of all of them, but what possible motive could he have?
That was the big question. Why? From what Addison knew of Patrick, he was a quiet man who mostly kept to himself. He enjoyed a drink of an evening, but certainly wasn't a drunk by any means. From what Layla said he didn't return Amelie's affections, but there was no question of him ever hurting her physically. Or anyone else, for that matter.
What makes someone want to kill a quiet, talented writer?
That was what they needed to get to the bottom of, if they were going to solve this murder. If she was going to get on with the new life she'd built.
Addison threw the covers off and headed for the shower. She resolved to try harder to get Isaac to talk to her about the case. It felt like her life was on hold while all this was going on. She'd come to Getaway Bay for a fresh start, and she'd loved hosting the artists and writers she'd welcomed into her home. She wasn't going to let go of it without a fight.
Down in the kitchen Addison found Ivy making herself a cup of tea and some toast.
"Good morning," said Ivy as she poured the boiling water into her cup.
"Good morning," Addison replied. "You're up nice and early today."
"It's such a beautiful day. I thought I'd take a walk on the beach, then Dan's picking me up to go and spend the day with Annette and the kids. I haven't seen them in so long. And to be honest, I think I need a day away from… all this."
Addison nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm going to talk to Detective Wilcox today and see where their investigation is up to. I hope they can get to the bottom of this soon."
"So do I. Hey, did you check your bank accounts like Dan said? Make sure no-one managed to get in and steal your money?"
"I did," said Addison, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Everything was still all there, thank goodness. I'm so pleased I asked him about my computer. Goodness knows what could have happened."
"He's pretty good at
that sort of thing. I have to admit I ask him to sort computer stuff out for me from time to time. I'm clueless when it comes to technology." Ivy's toast popped, and she set about applying butter and honey. "When did you log in and check your accounts?"
"Friday night, right after everyone went to bed. Why, do you think I should check again?"
"It wouldn't hurt," said Ivy. "That way you can be sure. Sometimes bank transactions can take a couple of days."
"Good point." Addison retrieved the laptop from her office and set it up on the kitchen table. Ivy's toast looked good, so while the computer went through its start-up process she popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster for herself.
"How old are your niece and nephew?" Addison asked while she waited.
"Oh," said Ivy. "Um, Dylan is twelve, I think, and Jasmine has just turned ten. Annette made this amazing birthday cake for her party. I didn't get there, obviously, but she sent a lot of photos."
"Can I see them? I love birthday cakes."
"Sure. They're on my phone. Oh, it's upstairs charging. Remind me to show you later."
"Okay." Addison's laptop was ready, so she logged in and opened up the page for her bank accounts. A quick look and she was relieved again. "All there, no problems," she said.
"Excellent," said Ivy. "Dan must have got rid of the virus in time, or else it wasn't targeting your accounts in the first place. But better to be safe than sorry."
"Indeed." Addison opened her email application. Might as well check those while she was at it.
Ivy finished her tea and toast and put her dishes in the dishwasher. "I'm off for my walk before Dan comes. If I don't see you later, I'll be back for dinner. Would you like me to pick anything up?"
"No thanks, I think we're all good. Unless you come across a nice bottle of wine in your travels." In the three weeks she'd been there Ivy had proven to have excellent taste in white wine. Well, it matched Addison's tastes, anyway.
Ivy smiled. "I'll see what I can do. Bye."
Addison buttered her toast and settled down at her computer to read her emails. There was nothing interesting, just a bunch of messages from email lists she'd subscribed to at some point. Half of them she didn't even remember joining. She went through and deleted them all, most without reading, then opened her favourite news website.