His expression changed. Was that anger flashing across his face? Then it was gone again. Maybe she was wrong.
“Believe it or not, I was shopping. Or was going shopping. For new…shoes. Saw you on the street and was about to wave when you disappeared into the alley. I had to go the other way which was past the other end of it. Happened to glance in and saw you. And him.”
Come on, Paul.
“I’m lucky you needed new shoes. Did you end up finding some?” She gave up on dinner and picked up the wine glass. Not much left. Time to go home and open a bottle for herself.
He shook his head, cleaning up the last of his meal with a piece of bread. “Spent too long with the constable. Would have been easier to come with you to do a statement as I ended up somewhere anyhow doing one.” Paul put the bread in his mouth and continued. “No thanks to the detective.”
Enough of poor manners and complaints about Ben and outright lies. She might not know where Dad was. Whether Paul was just bad at his job, or no longer cared, he’d let Dad disappear. Then said he wasn’t his keeper. Tears welled up and she rapidly blinked them away, finishing her wine to hide the sudden rush of emotion.
“Another?” Paul offered as he dropped his knife and fork on opposite sides of the plate. “Happy to order dessert.”
“I’m so sorry, my appetite is non-existent. I am so worried about Dad.”
“How do I fix this?”
“Paul, where do you think he is?”
“I wish I knew, El. I want to believe he is taking personal time and some message got lost. But the way Dennis and Meredith are…I mean, he’s now in the job he and Jack argued about, and as for her? Meredith is positively celebrating. Makes it bloody difficult to look past them.”
Beneath the table, Ellie’s hands clutched together. She would never believe Dad was gone. Never.
22
Dinner For Two. Another Couple
In the heart of Lygon Street, a restaurant was known among locals as the place to go if one wanted a discreet dinner. Behind a plain brick exterior lived a true Italian heart, a dark and tiny space with a dozen tables only far enough apart for the waiters to navigate with plates of extraordinary food. People booked weeks ahead.
Most people.
Dennis and Meredith shared a table in the quietest corner. Lit by a candle, their chairs were close, their hands closer. There was an unspoken rule of privacy here.
Some poor patron had their reservation cancelled the moment Dennis called. He had a certain pull in some areas, and this was one of his favourites. Meredith was hardly the first person he’d brought here but he hoped she’d be the one to return with for future anniversaries and celebrations.
He watched her across the little table, longing to taste those lips. Real or not. She’d wasted enough time on Jack Bannerman, but it was worth it. Or would be.
They shared a dessert and sweet dessert wines after a bottle of Italian red. He’d never seen Meredith laugh so much, her eyes free of the misery he’d always considered part of who she was. No, her marriage made her sad. He would spend the rest of his life making her happy.
“When, Dennis?” she whispered with a giggle.
“When what?”
“You know.”
He scooped some tiramisu onto a spoon and slipped it into her mouth, smothering a groan as her tongue drew it past her lips.
I do know.
“Not yet, my darling. We have to be sure.”
Her hand found his leg and crept upward. He met it with his own and a curve of his lips. She enticed him in ways he’d never experienced, but there was work to do first. No more being with the wrong person to help him achieve his dreams.
“Mr Connor, apologies for the interruption,” the maître de leaned down to Dennis’ level, his voice low. “There is a growing group of paparazzi outside. We asked them to disperse, but they say they will wait for you.”
“What! How do they know we’re here?”
“Not from us, sir. Perhaps you were seen arriving.”
“Does it matter, Dennis?” Meredith asked, her hands back on the table.
“It does.”
“When you wish to leave, I will escort you out the back way. Nobody is out there.” The man weaved away.
“Shit.” Dennis scanned the room. “Someone here must have recognized us and called the media. No frigging privacy.”
A few moments later, Dennis opened the door of a taxi for Meredith in a deserted laneway behind the restaurant. No more dinners out for now, not until his position was made permanent. A quick divorce and remarriage and everything he wanted would come true.
23
Brewing Storms
Ben saw the sun rise from the end of the pier. Sea Angel tossed around in a higher than usual swell from a hot wind streaking across the bay. The temperature was already high, uncomfortable, and predictions of a thunderstorm tonight were backed up by heavy humidity.
The yacht was done with and Ben felt sorry for whoever had the task of cleaning it. Fingerprint residue covered hundreds of surfaces. Despite his request to search with minimum disruption, someone went over the top in the galley and emptied every drawer and cupboard.
All for little result. No blood, no unusual items or suspicious trace. One gun, hidden under a mattress. His hopes of quick identification of an owner turned to a forced patience with the discovery of deliberate damage to the serial number. Meg insisted if it was registered, she’d find it, but needed longer than normal.
He sighed and turned his back on the bay. All of this bothered him on an unusual level. He didn’t care that Jack Bannerman had disappeared, not personally, but he did care about the impact on Ellie. Her life might appear privileged and perfect from the outside, but he knew better. Many kids grew up without their mother around, but it was what happened to Michael which tore a hole in her heart.
And tore us apart
She’d made up for every loss in her life by working harder and making herself indispensable to Jack as if he was the one person she could count on. And if he was dead?
Then there was her marriage. If there’d ever been love there, Ben didn’t see it. Not from Ellie.
Ben left the pier to stare up at the top floors of the apartment block overlooking the carpark. It was a street or two back, towering over closer low-rise apartments and houses. Andy had sent officers doorknocking but the residents knew nothing of the missing fisherman, or the missing businessman. No strange noises, or unfamiliar activity. One apartment was empty, for sale, and a couple of others weren’t home, so he’d follow those up himself later.
Andy’s ringtone jangled and he dragged his phone from a pocket. “Morning.”
“Have you seen the paper yet?”
“Which one and why?”
“I’ll send the link. Couple of interesting pictures.”
“You’re not at work, are you?”
“Nope, just browsing over coffee.”
The phone dinged with the message and Ben clicked the link. The front page of the paper had the same picture of Jack from the other day, with a headline.
Whilst Jack’s away, his family play.
Beneath were two images. The first was dark, in an intimate restaurant. Meredith sat close to Dennis as he fed her.
Then, another restaurant scene. Ellie and Paul. He was laughing, but her expression was disdainful.
What are you doing, Ellie?
“Interesting is right.” Ben said.
“She’s not into him.”
“If you mean Ellie, I agree. So, what was she doing there?”
“Maybe she’s doing her own investigation.” Andy said.
Ben raised his eyes to the sky. “Far out, she’d better not be.”
“Got the impression she doesn’t think we’re working fast enough. And she strikes me as a determined and capable person with considerable resources at her disposal.”
“Tick, tick, and tick. I have to speak with her about the state of the yacht, so will have a chat about the photo. Th
e other one interests me more. Are those two celebrating something? Neither look upset to be missing their husband and father-in-law.”
“Poor form. See you in the station?”
“Yeah. And thanks for the heads-up.”
Time to get the whiteboard out. Too many loose threads.
At his car, Ben looked back at the pier, to Sea Angel and past her to the sea. Somewhere out there were some answers. If not about Dennis, then perhaps about Frank Barlow. How to find them was his problem.
Dennis burst into Meredith’s bedroom without knocking. The curtains were drawn and she was buried beneath the covers. He sat on the edge of the bed and flicked a lamp on.
“Wake up, we have a problem.”
“Huh?” with a groan, Meredith turned over and peeked out. “Oh, hello. Change your mind?”
“I said we have a problem, Merry, so stop thinking about the bedroom all the time.”
She emerged from the covers, sitting up and letting them drop, exposing a see-through negligee. “But we’re in the bedroom, sweetie. And you woke me. Not the other way around. What problem?”
“Our private dinner last night made the headlines.” Dennis held out a copy of the paper. “Someone in the restaurant took a happy snap.”
Meredith snatched it. “When Jack’s away, the family plays.” Her eyes followed the page and widened. “Not my best side. And what’s this? Your little wifey is off playing her own games.”
“I doubt it. If she was going to get with Dekeles she’d have done so years ago. No, these two are plotting something. Probably to overthrow me.”
“Are you a king, now? Overthrow is dramatic, sweetie.” Meredith leaned against him. “He can’t do anything to hurt you, and why would daddy’s little girl care? She is too busy looking for Daddy.”
“Maybe. But you and I do have a problem. This will turn the spotlight onto us about Jack, so we need to get our stories straight. I’ll arrange coffee and meet you by the pool.”
“It is early. I don’t do early.”
“You do now.” Dennis kissed her lips but moved away as her arms came up to hold him. “In ten minutes, max, because I have to go to work soon.”
“Fine.” She flopped back onto the pillow. “Last chance?”
From the door he blew her a kiss, then closed it behind him.
Campbell arrived on the executive floor first. Only Jack ever got here before him, or sometimes Ellie. He turned on the coffee machine in the small kitchen before unlocking the door to his office.
It was already unlocked.
He checked the calendar, but the cleaners were due tonight. They only came twice a week so it wasn’t a case of them leaving a door open. If they had, there’d be words said because he kept too much sensitive material here to risk anyone snooping around.
The drawers on his desk were locked, and nothing appeared out of place, so Campbell turned on the monitors and plugged in the laptop. He adjusted the blinds to reduce the early morning glare, stepping on something on his way back to the desk. A pen.
“How odd.” He picked up the now-broken pen. Not his.
Who’s been in here?
A prickling sensation ran across his skull. Something was wrong. Campbell locked his door from the other side, rattling it to be certain. As he waited at the elevator, he glanced around. Most of the lights were still off and much of the space was shadowed.
“Is anyone here?”
Of course, he was alone, and why would anyone with bad intentions reply? The elevator dinged and he jumped, then laughed shortly as he stepped in.
Several floors down, he exited, heading to Paul’s office. This floor was not open plan, but had hallways and offices, and was also in semi darkness. Paul’s office door was closed and the lights off.
The control room was always manned. He headed there next, tapping on the thick door then holding his lanyard up to the camera.
“Mr Boyd? Do you need one of us?”
“Actually, I’d like to come in, Glen.”
Glen stepped aside, pulling the door closed and locking it behind Campbell. The wall of monitors always impressed Campbell. Ellie was walking through reception.
“Sir?” Glen waited, and the other guard, whose name escaped him, looked up.
“Oh. I’d like to view some pictures taken during the night please. Of my office.”
“Do you have a time in mind? Would you start a search, Will?” Glen spoke to the other man, who began tapping on a keyboard.
“After nine and before half an hour ago.”
“Quite a long time. Are we looking for anything in particular?”
“I feel someone was in there.”
“We did a check around midnight. All locked up.”
Thank goodness I’m not imaging it.
The security guards both watched the monitor as the time stamp raced. The monitor went black.
Glen fiddled with the cord behind it and it came back on, then off again. “Not again. Direct the footage to another screen, please.”
“Why is that happening?” Campbell asked.
“Dodgy screens. We’ve had a few do that lately.”
“Isn’t it unusual? They aren’t very old.”
“Old enough. Makes our job harder. Sir, rather than wasting your time, why don’t we check those hours and let you know if we find anything.”
Back in the elevator, Campbell received a message from Dennis with a link to the paper. He groaned as he scrolled the headlines, then shoved the phone in a pocket. He wanted to look at recent security purchases. Paul might need to speak to whoever he ordered from if they were breaking down so soon.
The lights were all on when he exited the elevator, and Ellie stood near Jack’s office, staring in. Campbell’s heart went out to her.
“I keep expecting him to be there, child.” He joined her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against him.
“Today, Campbell. I want to find him today.”
“I would like that very much. Keep believing.” Campbell removed his arm and reached for his phone. “Have you seen the paper yet?”
“No. But I’ve had a dozen missed calls from Teresa Scarcella wanting a comment. She’s probably upset she didn’t get the scoop herself.” Ellie followed Campbell to his office, which he carefully unlocked. “Don’t know why she’s bothering with me though. From the sound of it, scandal is Dennis and Meredith’s new middle names.”
“I have the link if you wish to see.”
“Not really. Anyway, I’m going to visit Michael this morning. Meant to yesterday but…”
“Oh, I didn’t even ask how you are feeling today. What a horrible scare you had in the alley.” He gestured for her to sit and once she did, lowered himself into his chair, grimacing as pain shot into his knees.
“Probably an overreaction because who would follow me and why? I’m not going to stress about it, that’s what Ben is paid to do.”
“Ben?”
“Well, the police.” Ellie looked at her hands.
“I’m pleased you’re visiting Michael. I imagine it has been quite a while?”
“Much too long.” At last she turned her gaze onto him. “I need to ask something, but if you aren’t allowed to tell, I understand.”
No. Please don’t ask me about it.
“Yesterday, someone told me something which has me a bit confused. It doesn’t add up.”
How did you find out?
“And it makes me wonder if this someone is lying to me about a whole lot of things. I can’t stand liars.”
Campbell’s palms were sweaty and he struggled to maintain eye contact. She knew. And she was warning him not to lie any more.
“Ellie, there’s certain things I shouldn’t discuss.”
“Like how many people know about the pre-nuptial?”
“What?”
“The one Meredith signed before marrying Dad. Who knows about it?”
His stomach unknotted.
“Ah. Not many. Un
less one of them has disclosed this information, it is only the legal team who drew it up, the—ahem—happy couple, you, and me. And your mother, of course.”
“Why does Gabi know?”
Campbell shrugged. “Jack wanted her to know. Gabi asked for nothing from her marriage, not a cent. It was Jack’s choice to gift her the boat and some money all those years ago.” He leaned forward. “I may be speaking out of turn, but I think Jack wanted her to know this second marriage was different. Not so much about the heart.”
Ellie bit her top lip with an expression he knew so well when she was thinking.
“Who on earth raised the pre-nup with you?”
“Can’t say yet. So, Dennis doesn’t know?” Ellie stood.
“Not to my knowledge.”
“I’d better head off. At this time of day, the traffic will be a nightmare. Don’t get up, I’ve interrupted your morning peace enough.” She smiled and with a wave, was gone.
With a heavy exhale of relief, Campbell sank back in his chair. He’d been certain she’d found out about Jack’s project. Well, Jack needed to get back before she did uncover his plans because Campbell had no intention of being the person to tell her.
24
A Sister’s Love
All the way to Ambling Fields, the home of her brother, Ellie worked on what to say. How to tell Michael their father was missing. Vanished with no trace and no suspicious circumstances. And in words he’d understand, without hitting him too hard. She’d not mentioned Dad in years and his reaction the last time she had discouraged her from repeating it. But he had the right to know.
Once off the freeway, she followed a narrow road through increasingly secluded countryside with low hills and glimpses of the sea. Was Michael ever taken to the beach? A pang of sadness hit hard. Once an accomplished surfer, his damaged brain would never again allow his body to control a wave. He barely spoke, only fragments of words. His ability to understand changed by the hour.
A high wall went on for minutes before Ellie stopped at the closed, iron gates. The place was like a fortress in some respects, as much to protect the residents from unwanted intrusion as to prevent them leaving without proper supervision. Every resident was from a background which kept them of interest to the media. Former sports stars, past music greats, a handful of the elite wealthy. What brought each here differed, except they were all people with life-changing, debilitating conditions. Almost all brain damaged from accidents, disease, or addictions.
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