by Polly Holmes
Murder. Her breath caught sharply in her throat. Hearing Clair say the word sent shivers through her body.
“Okay, Mason is here with me and we’re coming down now.” It was more a statement than a question.
“Thank you,” she said her head swaying in relief. “I tried my mum but there was no answer. If I’m honest, I’m a little freaked out.”
“Don’t worry, we’re on our way. See you soon,” Clair said and hung up. Alex had been so happy when Clair and Mason had finally gotten together. Such a shame it had to be over the death of Mason’s father.
The click of the door opening behind her was like the clang of a cymbal echoing in the silent room. Her hand shot to her chest. “Oh my goodness, Kayne, you scared the heck out of me.”
He frowned as he sat down on the opposite side of the table. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention.”
Alex shuffled in her seat. He looked over at her, his warm, honey-brown eyes seemed to calm her just as they did earlier that evening. “No, of course not.”
“Are you holding up okay?” he asked, flipping open his laptop.
“I think so.” An icy shiver walked up her spine as she thought of Marcus. “I’ll be happy when this night is over and you find the person responsible for Marcus’ murder.”
His long slender fingers typed as he spoke. “We’ll get this over with as quickly as possible. I’m going to type your statement as we go, then I’ll print it out for you to check and sign if correct.”
Alex nodded.
“Time is eight-thirty p.m., Sunday sixteenth, December 2018. Alex, do you wish to have a lawyer present?”
Lawyer? Why do I need a lawyer? “I did not murder Marcus, so no, I don’t see the need for a lawyer.”
“Alex, can you please run me through the events of this evening?”
“As I said earlier, I was with you down at the other end of the street. After we finished our conversation, I dumped my boxes in the recycling bin and then I saw someone had left a whole lot of rubbish outside the town hall side door. I suspected tourists, it looked terrible, and after such a wonderful day, I decided to clean it up and dump the rubbish in the bins. Then I walked back to my booth, thinking about everything I needed to do before dinner. I stepped in and saw Santa lying face down on the ground. I thought it was Mr Stevenson because he’d played Santa today at the fair. I turned the body over to administer CPR and saw that it was Marcus Slade.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?”
“Yes. His upper body had been restricted by my bench. That’s everything.”
“Had you seen Marcus today before finding his body this evening?”
Alex’s throat began to close over and she struggled to swallow around the knot. “Um, yes. He called by my stall earlier this morning as I was setting up.”
Kayne’s eyebrows raised and the air suddenly thickened between them. “And what did you and Marcus talk about?”
Talk? A cloud of dread settled over Alex as she remembered their conversation and the bitter words she tossed in his direction. Get away from me or so help me I swear those bruises and that black eye will be the least of your worries. To an outsider it didn’t paint her in the most favourable light.
“Marcus wasn’t exactly happy with me being on the kissing booth, but it really was no concern of his anymore.” Alex fiddled nervously with the hem of her shirt under the table. “He decided that he should be compensated in our relationship breakup and wanted to collect a few choice items.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
The skin tightened around her brows and her stomach squirmed with unease. She knew exactly where he was headed with his questions. “Look, if you want to know if it made me angry, yes, it did. But not angry enough to kill him. Marcus was one of those men who thought it was okay to lie and keep secrets in a relationship and I didn’t.”
“Because if you don’t have trust, you have nothing, right?” As soon as the words left his lips he tensed, and his lips thinned.
Her eyes widened. “Exactly. Trust is everything in a relationship.” Somehow, Alex knew they were no longer talking about Marcus. What’s your story, Kayne Pendleton?
He cleared his throat and continued. “Anything else?”
“Cassidy and Clair arrived at the stall and there may have been mention of calling the police if he didn’t leave me alone, so I think he got the hint because he left.”
Kayne twisted the laptop around and pushed it across the table. “Can you please check if everything is correct?”
Numbness coasted through her as she read her words. She nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ll print out a copy for your signature and then I’ll have someone drive you home.”
That’s it? Even though he was sitting in arm’s reach from her, his voice was distant as if a brick wall had shot up between them. “I’m fine to get home. I have Clair and Mason coming to get me.” Her body cringed as the high-pitched scrape of his metal chair on the floor goose bumped her arms. Kayne stood, laptop in hand. His unexpected dismissive behaviour had her off guard.
“I’ll be back in a moment.”
He returned within minutes, pen and paper in hand and she scribbled her signature. She was dumbfounded by his cold, abrupt turnaround toward her.
“Thank you for coming in this evening. I’ll show you out,” he said as she followed. He pushed the foyer door open and his hardened gaze found hers once more. “I’m sure you’re already aware, but please stay in town in case we have any further questions.”
She nodded and jumped back into the foyer and stared wide-eyed at the closed door. Well, if that’s the way you want to be?
“Alex?”
She spun at the sound of her best friends’ worried voice. Mason’s tall frame stood protective by her side. Alex was soon swallowed by Clair’s warm embrace, which infused relief into her bones. Alex’s heavy eyelids closed and she paused in her friend’s arms, praying this day would end sooner rather than later. “Clair, Mason, thank you for coming.”
“Of course.” Alex held on soaking up the warmth emanating from Clair’s hold.
“Any time,” Mason added.
Clair pulled back. “We got here as soon as we could. Are you all right?”
Alex’s mind wanted to say yes, but the turmoil inside her belly told her otherwise. “I will be. I gave Kayne my statement of the events and now I’d really like to go home.”
A stone-faced expression flashed across Clair’s face. “Are you sure that was wise?”
Alex’s stomach dropped, and self-doubt began to creep into her strong resolve. “What do you mean?”
Clair gave Alison, the receptionist, a mocking smile and shielded Alex away from earshot. “I mean, having been in this exact situation before, maybe it would have been best to speak to Caroline Tuscon before talking to the police. Remember how wonderful she was when Cassidy was wrongfully accused of murder?”
“I don’t need a lawyer. I didn’t murder anyone,” Alex said. Frustration slowly replaced her self-doubt.
“Oh, sweetie, we know that, but as you know, the police in this town have a tendency to ignore the truth. I’m just suggesting we give her a call when we get home. It will be better if she hears the whole story from you, not a distorted version from the town grapevine.”
Alex knew deep down in her heart Clair was right. Ashton Point’s grapevine had a tendency to colour the facts with menial nonsense. Alex sighed and nodded in agreement.
Relief washed over Clair’s expression. “Good, and if anything does go wrong, we’ll have Caroline primed and ready to go. Did Kayne believe you?”
“Of course he did and nothing is going to go wrong. I had zero to do with Marcus’ death.” The harsh final words she’d thrown at Marcus seeped into her thoughts, igniting a spark of regret deep in her heart. “Can we go home now?”
Clair nodded and looped one arm around Alex’s shoulders and the other around Mason’s waist. “Of course.”
Chapter Four
THE CHILLED BUBBLES of strawberry cider tickled Alex’s nose. The refreshing liquid eased down her throat like a welcome rainstorm after a drought. She closed her eyes and stifled a yawn. The chattering hoot of the Barking Owl outside the McCorrson’s lounge room window brought a smile to her face. It would have been the perfect end to a great day, if not for the murder. Christmas decorations cleverly dispersed around the lounge room brightened her spirits as soon as she sat down. A homely fondness eased through her. Just as it should be. “Thank goodness this day is just about over.”
Mason joined Clair sliding his free hand across the back of the couch. “So, what exactly happened today?”
A bitter taste filled the back of her throat at the thought of replaying the scene again. She sighed, tucking her feet underneath her backside and snuggling into the couch. “Like I said to Kayne, I went to put the boxes in the recycling bin and when I got back to my stall, I found Santa face down on the ground in my booth. I thought it was George Stevenson and when I turned him over it was Marcus. It looked like he’d been hit over the head with something hard. That’s the crux of the whole event.”
A sly smirk eased Mason’s lips upward. “Sounds like a rough end of the day, especially considering how tired you must be from all the male callers you had visiting your stall today.”
“Mason.” Clair screeched as she playfully slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand. “That is a totally inappropriate thing to say.”
A hollow emptiness filled Alex’s chest as she watched the playful banter of love escalate between Clair and Mason. The suffocating thought of opening her heart to love again flooded her chest. She’d been lost to Marcus the moment she’d shook his hand at the opening of the town antique fair four months ago. Her naivety amazed her to the point of stupidity. Who moves in with someone after only knowing them for two months? Me, that’s who.
“Alex. Alex.” Cassidy’s voice nudged her back to reality.
Her cheeks heated. “Cassidy? Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”
“That much is obvious.” Alex jolted as Cassidy huffed and flopped down on the couch beside her. “It looked like you were off with the fairies.”
Something like that.
“Alex has some news to tell,” Clair said snuggling closer to Mason. Cassidy’s inquisitive hazel eyes darted from Alex to Clair and back again.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Alex said rolling her eyes.
Clair’s jaw dropped. “Not a big deal? Cassidy and I both know finding a dead body is a big deal.”
“Dead body,” Cassidy said her voice pitched higher than normal. “Whose dead body?”
“Marcus,” Clair snapped.
Alex shuffled uncomfortably. Silence fell on the semi-crowded room, amplifying the repetitive squeak of the lounge as she moved. “I found Marcus dead on the floor of my stall earlier this evening.”
“Was anyone there when you found the body?” Cassidy asked.
The swirl of wind outside the open window whistled the trees to life almost as if they were egging her on, laughing at her situation. “No.”
Clair added. “Alex gave her statement to Kayne and I called Caroline as soon as we got home. There was no answer, so I left a message for her to call back. Knowing our track record with dead bodies, I think it’s better to be proactive rather than reactive.”
Alex took another sip of her cider. The bloodied image of Marcus’s battered body exploded back into her guarded memory without warning. Why Marcus? Why? She tensed, his words a sudden invasion she hadn’t expected. Alexandra, I know I lied to you, but I had good reason to. I was protecting you and you’ll thank me one day.’ Protecting her from what or who? Alex spun and caught Clair’s frowning gaze. “The argument. I forgot to tell Kayne about the argument.”
“What argument?” All three asked in perfect unison. It was like sitting in front of a Greek chorus.
Alex’s pulse quickened. “He’s going to think I have something to hide and that I kept it from him deliberately.”
“What argument?” Clair asked more abruptly.
Unable to sit a moment longer, Alex paced the lounge room, her racing pulse began to beat against her temples. “Today when I went to pick up my lunch from Margarete at the café, I took the shortcut behind Santa’s village to avoid the hordes of people and I spotted Marcus and Hannah in a heated discussion. She didn’t look happy, her arms were waving around like she was an angry octopus.”
A giggle erupted from Cassidy’s direction. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, but I was imagining Hannah squirming around like an octopus, her blonde hair hovering around her body like long wet tendrils.”
Cassidy’s peculiar description of Hannah stuck in Alex’s mind and she couldn’t help but join in the laughter. The hilarity easing the blooming tension in her chest. “This is hardly a laughing matter,” she said between giggles. “There’s something else that Marcus said to me that I can’t get out of my mind.”
Mason piped up. “Do tell.”
Alex stopped and the jovial antics vanished. “He said he knew he lied to me and had a good reason for it. He said he was protecting me and that I would thank him one day.”
“Protecting you… From what?” Clair asked.
Alex shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe it has something to do with the argument between him and Hannah. Either way, I should have told Kayne that I saw the two of them going at it. You don’t think Hannah would do that to Marcus, do you?”
A moment of confused silence unfolded between them and it seemed everyone ignored the elephant in the room. Her question hung around like a bad smell. All eyes looked from one person to another, no-one prepared to answer. Alex continued. “It had to have been someone who was still at the fair and since Hannah was the coordinator, she would have still been there ‘til the last stall was packed away.”
“That may be so, but may I make a suggestion?” Clair said gathering the empty glasses from the coffee table. “Over the past few months, we’ve had our fair share of solving murder’s and I for one will be happy to take a back seat on this one and let the police do their job.”
Alex watched as Cassidy shot off the couch and followed Clair into the kitchen. “Clair, you of all people know if we left the investigating up to the police, you, me and Charlotte would all be celebrating Christmas this year in prison. It wouldn’t do any harm to stay well informed of the situation. Thankfully, there is no evidence that links Alex to Marcus’ murder. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t stay apprised of all the details. The least we could do is find out what or who Marcus was protecting Alex from.”
The shrill of the house phone abruptly interrupted them mid-conversation. “Hello,” Clair said leaning against the bench.
“Clair, its Caroline.” The steely voice of authority echoed throughout the kitchen. “I rang as soon as I got your message. Now, what’s this about Alexandra Cohen murdering someone?”
Alex balked, Caroline’s words loud enough for everyone to hear. “I did not kill anyone,” she muttered, packing the glasses into the dishwasher then turning to glare in Clair’s direction.
“I think we have our wires crossed. Alex found the body of Marcus at her kissing booth this evening when she was packing up. That’s all. She didn’t murder him. I thought since we’ve had so much bad luck with police and finding bodies recently, we’d get you on board right from the start this time. Proactive instead of reactive and that sort of thing.”
“Wise move, young lady. Is Alex still staying with you?” she asked. The supportive smile strewn across Clair’s face sent waves of comfort through Alex.
“Yes, she’s still staying here.”
“Good, Christopher and I will be over at nine o’clock tomorrow morning to hear Alex’s side of the story.”
Clair’s brows dipped, painting a clear picture of confusion. “Christopher?”
“Yes, Christopher Linnell decided to stay around and you could say we have become quite good friends. Must go no
w. We’ll see you at nine.” The sharp click seemed to startle Clair and she replaced the phone in the cradle on the wall.
Mason chimed in. “Is everything all right?”
Clair’s transfixed gaze stuck to the receiver and she nodded slowly. “Caroline will be here at nine tomorrow morning.”
While Alex knew she’d done nothing wrong, knowing that she had Caroline in her corner pepped up her spirits. “Thank you.”
“Who’s Christopher?” Mason asked.
Clair turned and a glint of mischief gleamed in her eyes. “Christopher Linnell. She’s bringing Christopher Linnell. Apparently, he stayed in town and they have become ‘quite good friends.’”
Alex grabbed her handbag and headed toward her room, hugging each of her friends before she went. “As long as good friends means they both can stay on top of this Marcus incident, I’m all for it.”
Chapter Five
ALEX SQUINTED AGAINST the intense early morning sunbeams shining through the kitchen window. She dragged her feet along cool tiles to the Nespresso machine, the weight of yesterday’s discovery had weighed heavily on her mind all night. She’d been awake since three, unsettled. It wasn’t until the clock read six-thirty that she gave up trying to get back to sleep. Coffee, Clair always says everything looks better after coffee. The humming of the coffee machine conveniently drowned out the chorus of singing sulphur-crested cockatoos perched outside the window.
Alex jumped, catching her breath in surprise at the sudden bang of the front door. “Charlotte?”
She threw the morning paper down on the kitchen table and thrust her delicate cupcake baking hands on her hips. “I cannot believe the audacity of that man.”
Alex busied herself making coffee, taking an extra cup out for Charlotte. “Who?”
“Daniel, from The Chronicle. He’ll do anything to sell a paper. It was bad enough that he openly crucified me as the cyanide murderer on the front page, but now he’s taken this Marcus murder to a whole new level.”
Alex turned her stomach cringing as she caught sight of the front page. Murder Under the Mistletoe – Did Marcus Slade Receive the Kiss of Death? Anxiety gripped Alex’s chest and she picked up the paper. “Kiss of death? What the—”