by K. J. Emrick
I notice that both of them seemed very curious about what he knew. Almost like they had a guilty conscience.
“We’ll know more,” Kevin tells them, “after we’ve had the chance to talk. I’d like to invite the two of ya down to the station. More privacy there, and I understand the need to keep this all hush. I’ve got me own car here. No need to ride in a police car, then.”
“Just fine,” Thornton agrees amicably.
“If we must,” is Stephanie’s somewhat less enthusiastic response.
“There ya go, then,” Kevin says. “Glad to hear it. Got a couple of my guys upstairs now. They’re in plain clothes, Mom, so no worries there. Just let me tell them what I’m doing and then we’re off.”
I know he’s anxious to get this investigation under way, but even so he takes the time to give his sister a hug. Carly smiles and suffers through it.
“Good to see ya, little sis,” Kevin tells her.
“It’s not like I went anywhere,” she reminds him. “Been right here since I got back.”
“Sure, locked in your room. Much more fun having ya out here with the rest of us.” With a wink, he gives her another quick hug. “Don’t be such a stranger. Talk to ya later? Maybe we’ll come round for dinner, yeah?”
“Senior Sergeant,” Stephanie interrupts them. “I think family is just as important as anyone, but could you maybe catch up later? My boss was murdered. Can we focus on that?”
“That’s what I’m doing, Mrs…” Kevin hesitates, scratching at the back of his neck. “Er, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.”
Stephanie smiles at him, but from where I’m standing, I can see it’s one of those smiles that’s just for show, without a trace of real humor in it. “It’s Collette. Miss Stephanie Collette. I’m very much single. Never married.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Thornton mutters, earning him another glare from the very single Stephanie Collette.
Thornton’s inuendoes are becoming less subtle as the day wears on. Might just be the stress of the situation, but it also might be an attempt to shift the blame. Of the two of them my money’s still on Stephanie as the murderer, but Thornton’s not off my suspect list. Not by a longshot.
But what would be his motive, I wonder? Like he said, he’s out of a job now. Kind of stupid to bite the hand that feeds you. Stupider, even, to cut that hand off entirely. Jackson Fillmore’s death meant the unemployment line for Thornton Dunfosse. If there’s a motive there, it has to be something other than money.
As to what Stephanie might have for a motive, well, that’s starting to take shape in my mind. An unmarried woman spending lots of up close and personal time with her influential boss… it’s a cliché but things have been known to happen when a man and a woman spend that kind of time alone together. Lots of motives stem from affairs of the heart.
I catch Kevin’s eye, and with a glance I tell him that I’ve learned a few things he might find helpful. Just need a quiet moment or two in order to spell them out for him. Not that I don’t think he’d figure them out for himself once he got these two down to the police station and into an interview room, but you never know. People tend to clam up about certain things when there’s cops around. Tongues wag a lot more freely when they’re talking around just plain folks. Like me.
Although, I’m hardly plain folks. I’m Dell Powers, after all.
“Well, let’s get the two of ya down to the station,” Kevin says, ending the staring contest between our two suspects.
That’s not the end of things, though. “I will not,” Stephanie says very pointedly, “ride in the same car with Thornton. I’ll find my own way down, thank you very much.”
“Fine with me,” Thornton says with a I-could-not-care shrug. “I think we both know why she doesn’t want to go.”
“I didn’t say that!” Stephanie practically screams. Her face is red now. Her stare isn’t just going to melt the arctic pole, it’s going to scorch all of Tassie to desert.
Oh, snap. This is getting way out of hand.
“I’ll take her,” I offer quickly. “The lunch crowd has died down by now and Danni can handle the rest.”
Stephanie looked uncertain. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“No worries. Just let me tell my staff what I’m about and then we’re off.”
After a moment, she nods. “All right, then.”
Kevin claps his hands together, pleased with the arrangements. “Good. Then you’re with me, Thornton. Let’s go.”
Honestly, I think part of what Kevin’s glad for is knowing that I’m coming down to the police station with them all. That will give me some time to get Stephanie to open up about my hunch. And yes, I’m still aware that either of these two might be killers. It’s not that I want to put myself alone in Stephanie’s company. It’s just that I know I can help my son solve this murder, and I need to do everything I can to make that happen.
The reputation of my Inn’s at stake here. I can just see the headlines now. Tasmanian Politician Murdered Dead in the Pine Lake Inn. That’s not the kind of press I’m looking for.
If my ex-boyfriend James Callahan were here, he’d know how to spin this so no one blamed me or this wonderful place of mine.
Ex. There, I said it. He’s my ex, plain and simple. Four weeks with no word from him? That’s done then, isn’t it. Good riddance to him, and may he find all the happiness he’s due.
Sure. Only, if he was here, he’d print the facts in his paper and still make it clear that this Inn is a grand place for anyone to stay. He was a lot of things, James was, from an attentive lover to a dear friend, and in his career as a journalist there’s no one better. I miss him, and I hate him for leaving me without a word, and I hate myself for caring either way. Women don’t need a man to be complete. Although… there’s more than a few uses for one, I’ve got to admit.
After I explain to Danni what’s going on and make sure Rosie’s got the dinner menu started, I come back out to the front room and get my car keys. Not really my car, actually. It belongs to the hotel to be used as a loaner for the guests, but I use it whenever I’ve a need, which is now. Before I’m out the door, Carly is there. I’m surprised, to tell the truth. It’s not that I forgot about her, it’s just that I thought she would’ve gone back up to her room. This is a day for the unexpected, I suppose.
“Mom?” she asks me, her hands pushed deep into her pockets. “Any chance I can tag along?”
“To the station? What for?”
I realize how that sounds just as soon as the words are out of my mouth. There’s a wince of emotion that crosses her face and it wounds me to know that I was the cause of it. “I was just, um,” she starts to say. “I was hoping I could help. You know. Like we used to do.”
Not for the first time since she’s been back in my life, I take a really good look at my daughter. She’s changed so much. Not just the way her hair has grown back in. It’s more than a few worry lines that never used to be there around her eyes. She’s lost herself and found herself again. She’s like a porcelain doll put back together after a bad fall. Still beautiful, but you can see the cracks and the glue holding it all together. You just know that one more hard drop might be her undoing.
So it’s up to her mother to be her safety net.
With a smile, I take her hand in mine. “Of course you can come with me. I’ll never turn down your company.”
That brings a smile to her face as well. I like it when Carly smiles. She looks so much younger and happier when she does.
Kevin has already left with Thornton, and I hope he’s getting something out of him. Separating him from Stephanie was the best plan at any rate, because they were much too busy sniping at each other to talk about the murder. They both want to point the finger at each other, without actually coming right out with an accusation. Apart from each other like this, they should open up.
Which is what I’m hoping will happen with Stephanie.
The drive from the Inn to
the police station doesn’t take any time at all, usually, unless you’re intentionally trying to make it take longer by basically driving in circles around town. Which is what I’m doing now. It’s not like Stephanie Collette would know the difference. She’s never been to our town before. Staying under the speed limit helps, too. Hard when the limit’s already sixty km/h, but I manage it anyway.
Carly gives me a look in the rearview from the backseat, and I shrug. She knows what I’m doing. I’m going to string out this ride just as long as I can so I can keep talking to Stephanie.
“How long did you work for Jackson Fillmore?” I ask her, taking the left turn onto Biel Street for the second time.
“I’ve been with him for five years now.” She’s staring out the window on the passenger side at the houses going by. Hard to tell where her thoughts are. “I was with him when he started in his position as Parliamentary Secretary. I was with him through his divorce and through the whole kickback scandal which, I need to remind you, was dismissed. He never did take a fiver that wasn’t rightfully his. Sorry, sorry. I just always feel the need to defend him whenever that subject comes up.”
I’ll say. She just about bit my head off there. Kind of what I’d expect if she really was having a relationship with the man… “You thought a lot of Jackson, didn’t you?”
She nods, slumping down lower against her seatbelt. “I did. He was a good man. More than that, really. In a lot of ways my world revolved around him. You ever spend so many hours of your day with someone that they leave a massive, gaping hole when they’re gone? That’s what I’m feeling right now. I can’t imagine my life without Jackson in it, and yet here I sit, trying to see a tomorrow without him.”
I did know exactly what that feeling was like. When my husband was taken away from me and I had to come to grips with the fact that he was gone forever, I hardly knew how to go on. I did it, for the sake of my children and my own sake to boot, but it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’d like to tell Stephanie that it gets better. That would be a pleasant lie to let her hold onto, but it would only be exactly that. A lie. You never fill that hole up when someone leaves you. In a way, you just learn to step around it. Of course, I’m speaking of my husband here. Not someone I worked for.
According to what Stephanie had said back at the Inn, Jackson Fillmore was just her employer, and nothing else. I think that’s just as big a lie as anything else, actually.
Carly gives me another look in the rearview mirror. I can read her thoughts, because they’re the same as my own. It’s plain as the nose on my face that Stephanie didn’t just work for Jackson Fillmore. She was in love with the man.
I’ve seen love turn into hate more times than I can remember, and I’ve seen that hate lead to murder. That’s what got my husband killed, actually. My good friend Jess is now a ghost in my Inn for exactly the same reason. Those emotions are two sides of the same coin for some people, and its heads or tails which one will come up at any given moment…
“Mom, look out!”
Carly’s warning brings my attention back to the street in front of us just in time to slam on the brakes. The squeal of the tires echoes all around us.
In front of me, taking his sweet time, is that King Penguin from earlier. He’s stopped this time in the middle of the pavement, flat and stubby wings outstretched, his beak hanging open, as human a look of surprise as I’ve ever seen on a bird.
“What the devil is he doing here?” Stephanie wonders out loud, lifting herself in the front seat for a better look.
“He’s sightseeing, apparently,” I tell her. “Saw him earlier today, too.”
Carly leans forward from the back, looking over my shoulder. “Funny looking thing, ain’t he?”
The penguin gives us a squawk, and then turns with an awkward shuffling of his feet to waddle his way across the street again.
I pat my daughter’s hand. “I think he feels the same way about you.”
There’s a knock on my window. I jump in my seat, startled and on edge still from what happened at the Inn. My hand goes reflexively to the wooden unicorn necklace, holding it tight. Then I take a deep breath, and hold it, and tell myself to calm down. While I was watching the penguin, I wasn’t paying attention to anything else and now there’s a man standing there, leaning in with his hands on his knees.
Pastor Jonas Albright is a short man, and his eyes seem overlarge behind those thick glasses of his. Kind of like an owl.
Once I realize I’ve nothing to worry over, that I’m not being carjacked or robbed at gunpoint, I roll the window down. I mean, this is Lakeshore. The occasional murder, certainly, but no one’s going to rob you sitting in your car in broad daylight. Besides, if there’s one man in all of Lakeshore I’d never suspect of wanting to hurt a fly, it’s him.
“What can I do for you, Pastor?” I smile at him, because I genuinely like Jonas. He’s been a good addition to our town, and he takes the duties that come with that black shirt and white collar very seriously.
“G’day, Dell,” he nods in greeting. “Oh, and Carly, too. Good to see you out and about. How’re you feeling?”
“Fine,” is all Carly says in return. She’s shy around most folks, but maybe a bit more around Pastor Albright. The subject of religion’s a bit touchy with her since her stay in the commune.
Not that Jonas minds one way or another. “Ah, that’s good to hear. Well. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Er, yes,” I agree, confused with why he’s at my window, exchanging small talk with me. “A little too hot for my taste but then that’s Tasmania. There’s weather, whether you like it or not. Did you need something? We’re kind of in a hurry.”
Stephanie shifts in her seat, suddenly eager to be going now that I’ve said something. So much for driving her around without her noticing it.
Pastor Albright scratches at the top of his balding head. “In a hurry, you say? Well, that’s understandable, I suppose, except you seem to be stopped in the middle of the street. Perhaps, you’re in a hurry to go nowhere?”
He points behind us, and that’s when I see that his car is parked there, blocked by my own. I can feel my freckled cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Oh! I’m sorry, Jonas. We were just stopping for the penguin.”
“Penguin?” He repeats the word, looking all about for any sign of our black and white feathered friend. Except, the bird’s gone. Nowhere to be seen. “Is that… I’m sorry, is that slang for something these days? I’m afraid I’m not up on the current lingo, as it were.”
“No, I mean a real penguin. Where’d he go?” I didn’t think they could be that fast on dry land. “It was just there, crossing the street.”
“He was? Why on Earth would a penguin cross the street?”
Carly, who had been so quiet a moment ago, bursts out with, “Because the chicken made it look easy!”
Pastor Albright turns his eyes her way, and I can see the wheels turning until he gets the punchline and then he bursts out laughing. “Ah! I see, I see. Oh, that’s brilliant, that. Oh my, yes. I’ll have to work that into my sermon somehow.”
Still laughing he heads back to his car and I start us off, no more wrong turns and no more slow driving either, after I see Stephanie eyeing the speedometer.
Without another word said, we arrive at the Lakeshore Police Department.
Chapter 5
“I didn’t know you remembered that joke,” I tell Carly as we wait in the uncomfortable chairs in the front lobby of the station.
“The one about the penguins?” she shrugs. “’Course I do. You and dad used to tell us that one all the time when we were younger.”
There’s a feeling you get as a parent when you know that you’ve passed something down to your children. An appreciation for boy band music, or a love of Aussie Rules Football, or just the know-how to fix a clogged sink. In this case, it’s a joke that my parents used to tell me. One that my little girl will tell her own children, one day. Something so small, bu
t in that moment, it meant the world to me.
The front area of the police station has undergone a few changes with my Kevin as the Senior Sergeant here. The walls have been painted a light blue instead of that old, faded whitewash they used to be sporting. There’s a magazine rack now, too, for people waiting out here in the narrow space. ‘Course, they’re all months out of date but it’s still a homey sort of touch. The old metal bell that used to sit on the ledge by the service window’s been replaced with a push button buzzer, too. It makes a tone inside to let officers know someone’s come in.
I kind of miss that bell. I threatened to throw it at the previous Senior Sergeant’s head once. All right, twice. But only because he deserved it.
“Will this take long?” Stephanie complains. She’s been sitting out here with us for all of five minutes now, after we were asked to wait here while Kevin finished talking to Thornton Dunfosse. Kevin’s a smart one, and he knows that me and Carly sitting out here is more likely to get Stephanie to keep her seat than just leaving her by herself. He’s going to need statements from me and Carly, too, but I doubt he’s too worried about that. It’s not like we’re suspects. Nobody’s accused me of murder since the last Senior Sergeant did.
Which is just one of the reasons why I threatened to throw that bell at his head.
Before I can even tell Stephanie that we won’t be here all that long, the door that connects the lobby to the inner rooms of the department opens, and Officer Ben Isling is standing there. He’s done some changing over the years himself, actually. He’s no longer the scrawny kid with a head full of brown curls fresh out of the academy. The hair’s been buzzed down to a smooth layer of stubble on his round dome. There’s a hardness to the lines on his face and around the corners of his eyes that didn’t used to be there. Gone up more than a few belt sizes, too, all of it trim muscle. Kind of a good-looking guy, if I’m being honest.
“How’s it, Dell?” He holds the door open and waves to the three of us. “Come on in. Senior Sergeant’s ready for ya now.”