by Grace York
"Yes, but I was just getting my bag. Jenna didn't even get up from her seat on the balcony."
Wilcox pulled his own notebook out then and the room was silent while he wrote. Addison couldn't stand it.
"You can't possibly think that Layla went inside, killed her sister, and then came back and went to the pub with us?"
"We're just gathering the facts at the moment," said Senior Constable Short. It was the first thing she'd said since the officers had arrived.
"What about the fire?" Addison pressed. "If Layla killed Jenna, who started the fire? Or are you going to tell us it was a coincidence that a fire accidentally started right after Jenna was murdered."
Short looked at Wilcox, who closed his notebook. "No, the fire was no accident," he said. "It was deliberately lit." He stood and tucked his notebook in his pocket. "That's all we need for now. Will you be staying here for the foreseeable future?" he asked Layla.
Layla looked at Addison, who answered for her. "Yes. She'll stay here for as long as she needs to."
Addison saw Wilcox and Short out, then came back and sat by Layla's side. "They don't really think you killed her, Layla."
"Don't they? They sounded pretty suspicious to me. I was the last one to see her alive. Alone. That's what they said."
"But it doesn't make sense. They said they have proof Jenna was murdered, and proof the fire was deliberately lit. Surely that means whoever did it, did both things. It's ludicrous to believe that one person killed Jenna, and another person came along and deliberately lit a fire. So that means whoever killed Jenna, must have also started the fire."
"So?"
"So you were with us in the pub when the fire started. You definitely didn't start the fire. So you couldn't have killed her either. Don't worry. The police will work it out soon enough. No-one is going to think you killed Jenna."
Layla nodded, pulling the cardigan around herself once more. "I guess you're right. But someone did those things, Addison. Someone killed my sister and set fire to the gallery. Who would do this to us? And why?"
9
After fortifying themselves with more coffee, Addison and Layla made the half hour drive to Riverwood to buy Layla some essentials. They spent an hour picking out clothes and personal items before it all got too much for Layla.
"Are you okay?" Addison asked.
Layla's eyes narrowed, and she cast a glance around the shopping centre. "I don't know. I feel like someone's watching us."
"Really?" Addison followed her cousin's gaze. "I don't see anyone. You're probably just feeling overwhelmed. It's understandable." She didn't want to add that maybe it was the stress of being under suspicion by the police.
Addison spotted a café in the shopping centre with a quiet booth in the corner. "Let's get some lunch," she said, and guided Layla into the café. They both ordered light meals, and Layla pushed food around on her plate.
"Do you want to go home?" Addison asked.
"I don't have a home."
"Oh, Layla. I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"It's okay. I really don't know what I want to do. There are so many things I should be doing. Contacting the insurance agency, for a start."
Addison breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been too afraid to ask whether the gallery and flat had been insured.
"I can make that call for you, if you'd like."
"And then there's Jenna's funeral. I'm the only family she has, besides Dad. I have no idea what she would have wanted. Should the funeral be here, or back in Sydney? I don't even know what friends I should be notifying. Or if she even had any friends."
Addison finished a mouthful of salad. "You don't know if she had any friends?"
Layla shook her head. "We didn't talk much. These last two months are the longest we've ever spent together since we were children. We're just such different people, Addison."
"I know. You always have been. What about her work colleagues? Do you know any of them?"
"No. I know where she worked, though. I suppose I should phone them, too."
"The police may have already done so. But you're right, we should phone them. I can take care of that when we get back to the beach house." Addison pushed her plate aside and reached across the table to place a hand over Layla's. "Hon, do you want to go and see your dad now?"
Layla nodded. "I don't have a clue how I'm going to tell him about Jenna, or even if I should. Half the time he thinks we're still little girls."
"Whether you tell him or not, it might do you good to go see him now." Addison remembered how important family were when Rob died. No matter who they were or what your relationship was like, family was family.
Layla took a deep breath and pulled herself up out of the booth. Addison paid for their food and they were soon on their way back to Getaway Bay.
The nursing home was bright and cheerful, flowers lining both sides of the drive through to the entrance. Addison couldn't help but feel uplifted by all the colour.
"It's beautiful," she said as they climbed out of the Rav and made their way to the front door.
"They have gardeners come every day," said Layla. "It's even nicer out the back, where the residents have a lovely sitting area."
Nurses and staff greeted Layla by name as they signed in and she led Addison down a corridor to Dennis's room. Addison was shocked when she saw her uncle for the first time in so many years. He was half the size he used to be, and his skin was almost the same grey as his hair. She quickly fixed a smile on her face, anxious that the old man not notice her surprise.
"Hi Dad," said Layla, her voice brighter than it had been these last twenty-four hours. "How are you today?"
Dennis nodded and smiled at Layla, before regarding Addison with a confused look.
"This is Addison, Dad. Your niece. You remember her?"
After a moment's consideration Dennis nodded, although not with the same enthusiasm as his greeting for Layla. Addison doubted he knew who she was.
"You not talking today, Dad?"
Dennis shook his head, and pointed to the book on his bedside table. Addison leaned forward to read the title. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Layla had said Dennis liked being read to.
Layla settled into the chair beside the bed, picked up the book, and searched for her place. Before she could start reading one of the nursing staff entered the room. She was a large lady with a kind face.
"Hi Angie," said Layla. "This is my cousin, Addison."
Angie came around the bed and pulled Layla in for a hug. "I was so sorry to hear what happened," she said in a low voice. "Hi Addison," she added.
Addison nodded a greeting, keeping one eye on her uncle to see if he'd registered that something was wrong. He didn't seem to understand.
"Can I get you girls anything?" said Angie, letting Layla settle herself back in the chair.
"We're fine," said Layla. "Dad wants me to read some more of Harry Potter to him."
"He does seem to enjoy those books." Angie fussed with Dennis's pillows, making sure he was comfortable. Addison was touched when Angie gently stroked Dennis's forehead.
"Actually, I wouldn't mind a cup of tea," Addison said. "Can you show me where I can make one, Angie?"
"Of course. Follow me."
Addison didn't really want a cup of tea. She wanted to give Layla some time alone with her father. She also wanted to ask Angie how he was doing.
"It looks like Dennis is being well cared for," she said.
"We do our best," Angie replied as she led the way down the hall. "They get to be like family, you know. Dennis has been with us for three years now. He's a lovely man. Not very talkative lately, unfortunately. But that happens."
"How is he doing? I mean, Layla told me he wasn't too well. Infections, or something. Can you tell me any more?"
Angie turned down a corridor to the left and they stepped into a small lounge area. There was a kitchenette in the corner with tea and coffee making facilities.
"I can't give you any
details, sorry, as you're not immediate family. But yes, he isn't doing terribly well. That's why his other daughter was in town, as you probably know. We're not sure how much longer he has left. All we can do now is keep him comfortable."
"Well it looks like you're doing a great job of that. Layla says all the staff here are wonderful."
Angie smiled. "It's terrible, this business with Layla's sister and the fire. I heard about it on the news this morning. When I got here the rest of the staff were talking about it. Poor Layla. She's such a lovely woman. And a caring daughter. She's here nearly every day."
Addison was surprised all the staff were talking about the fire already. She'd heard about small-town gossip, but never experienced it first-hand. It was definitely different to living in Sydney.
"Has Uncle Dennis been told about the fire?" she asked. "About Jenna?"
"Not by us," said Angie.
"Layla was worried about how she was going to tell him."
"If you want my advice, I wouldn't tell him at all."
"Oh? Why's that?"
Angie lowered her large frame onto the couch in the room and patted the seat next to her for Addison to sit.
"Most of the time Dennis thinks his daughters are still little girls. If you were to tell him that Jenna was dead, he would feel the grief as if he were a young father losing a small child. In my opinion, he's not strong enough for that."
"So you think it's kinder not to tell him one of his daughters is dead?"
"I know it sounds mean, but yes. These last two years Dennis has frequently spoken of his wife as if she were still alive. Mentally, he's back in the prime of his life. Whenever Layla told him the truth, that her mother had passed away years ago, he either refused to believe it, or he went through the grieving process all over again. Eventually we recommended Layla go along with his version of things."
Addison could see why it would be kinder, but still, it seemed wrong. Deceitful.
Angie must have sensed her reservations. "It would be different if he were still living out in the world, having to manage a household and everyday tasks. But in here he's safe. In here, he can live whatever version of reality his mind wants him to."
That made sense. "Thank you," Addison said. "For taking such good care of him. And of Layla."
Angie's face lit up with a warm smile. "That's what we're here for. Now, shall I make you that cup of tea?"
"No, thanks. I'd better get back to them."
Layla was wrapping up a chapter when Addison found her way back to the room. Dennis had drifted off to sleep.
"He looks peaceful," Addison whispered.
Layla nodded. She marked her place in the book, then set it back on the side table. She leant forward and kissed her father on the forehead, and they left him to sleep.
"I'm so pleased he's in here," Layla said once they reached the Rav. "It's one less thing for me to worry about."
"Did you tell him about Jenna?"
"No. I couldn't bring myself to do it."
Addison relayed what Angie had told her as they climbed into the Rav and headed for the beach house.
"She's probably right," said Layla. "I guess telling him would be more for my benefit than his. It wouldn't do any good, though. The dad I need to comfort me is long gone."
Addison reached over and squeezed Layla's hand. "I'm here for you," she said. It felt like such a small gesture. They hadn't seen each other for years. But it looked like Addison would soon be the only family Layla had left.
10
As she steered the Rav 4 into the driveway of the beach house, Addison was surprised to see Olivia was not alone.
"Have you made a new friend?" Addison called out as she and Layla approached the house with the bags of shopping.
Olivia smiled, and the little dog at her feet barked. "He just came and plonked himself on the verandah. He doesn't have a collar. No ID."
Addison dumped her bags and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. He promptly rolled over and produced his belly for a rub. Addison obliged. He was a cute little fellow, but she had no idea what type of dog he was. There seemed to be a bit of everything in there. She could tell he was quite young, though. His white fluffy fur was matted in places, but otherwise he looked well cared-for.
"We'll have to find out where he's from," she said. "He looks like he might have escaped from somewhere." She ran her hands over the matted sections of his coat. "He's probably been out for a while."
"You can take him to Juliet," said Layla. "She's the local vet. She might have an idea who he belongs to."
"Good idea." Addison picked up the bags she'd dropped, and she and Layla went inside the house. Olivia and the dog followed. "Will you be okay here by yourself if we take him now?" Addison asked Layla.
"Sure."
Addison turned to walk back outside but stopped when she saw the police cruiser pull into the driveway behind her Rav.
"Maybe we'll stick around for a bit," she said as Detective Wilcox and Senior Constable Short made their way to the open front door.
"I'll find this little guy something to eat," said Olivia. "Come on, fella." She led the dog into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.
Wilcox knocked on the open door.
"Come in," said Addison. Layla had settled herself onto the couch again. "Do you have any news?"
"Not much has changed since this morning," said Wilcox. "We've got some more questions for Layla." He turned to address her on the couch. "May we speak to you in private?"
"Why?"
"We've got some questions of a personal nature," he said, with a nervous glance toward Addison. "You might want to keep them private."
Layla shook her head. "I have no secrets, Detective. I'd like Addison to stay."
Wilcox shrugged. "Fair enough." They all took seats.
Addison didn't bother offering them anything to drink this time. She and Layla both stared at Wilcox, waiting for him to start with his personal questions.
"We've been doing some checking into your sister's financial status," he began. "It seems she never married, nor did she have any children. Is that correct?"
"Yes. Jenna wasn't terribly interested in finding a soul mate. She was more interested in making money. He career was her life."
"She was a lawyer," said Short. It was a statement, rather than a question. Layla said nothing.
"It seems she was very good at making money," Wilcox went on. "Her estate is quite considerable."
"Are you leading up to a question, Detective?" asked Addison.
Wilcox regarded her with pursed lips and narrowed eyes before redirecting his attention to Layla. "We've discovered that you are the sole beneficiary of her will, Ms Dallimore. You stand to inherit a significant sum of money. Were you aware of this?"
Layla shrugged. "We never discussed it, but it doesn't surprise me. Jenna was always very financially savvy. She was also big on keeping her personal affairs in order. If you're asking me whether I knew I would inherit all her money, the answer is no, not specifically. But Dad and I are her only living relatives. There's no point leaving anything to Dad…" Layla choked back tears, and took a moment to continue. "It stands to reason she would have left her estate to me."
Addison went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. When she returned and placed it by Layla's side, Wilcox was just finishing what he was getting at.
"…now inherit all of your father's wealth as well, rather than just half."
"Are you suggesting Layla killed her sister for money?" said Addison, retaking her seat. "That's ridiculous."
"Please, Mrs Lake. Let us ask our questions," said Short. Not that she was asking any of the questions.
"We have to investigate all possibilities," added Wilcox. "In our experience, money is a major motive for murder."
"Well not in this case," said Addison. The idea was outrageous. Yes, Layla and Jenna weren't the closest of sisters. But the gallery was insured, and as far as Addison was aware Layla wasn't hard u
p financially.
"It's okay, Addison," said Layla. "They have to ask. I can assure you, Detective I did not kill my sister for her money, or my father's. I did not kill my sister at all. Someone else did this."
"What about the fire?" asked Addison. "If Layla killed Jenna, who started the fire? Layla was at the pub with us when that happened. With at least fifty other people. There's no way she started that fire."
"No, that appears to be true," said Wilcox. "Although, there are ways to start a fire and not have it take hold immediately," he added.
"Like how?"
"I can't get into that right now. The fire is still under investigation. We'll know more when we have the fire investigator's report. But just because Ms Dallimore was elsewhere when the fire took hold, doesn't get her off the hook for murder."
Addison couldn't believe what she was hearing. She decided to change the subject before she lost her temper.
"Do you have any other suspects?"
"I can't discuss that with you either. But I can tell you we're following a number of lines of inquiry."
"Inquiry into other suspects, or just Layla?"
"I can't—"
"I know, I know, you can't discuss that with us. What can you tell us?"
Wilcox's face reddened. "We didn't come here to tell you anything, Mrs Lake. We came here to ask the questions, not answer them."
Addison held up both hands. "Okay. Fair enough. Ask your questions."
"Thank you." Wilcox pulled his notebook out of his pocket and proceeded to ask Layla to recount her whereabouts yesterday, asking her exactly the same questions as he had this morning. Addison bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself from butting in.
Layla answered all of his questions, as she had done this morning. Wilcox seemed frustrated that he was unable to trip her up in a lie. Of course he couldn't – because she wasn't lying. Addison found herself wishing Rob were here. He'd have conducted this investigation very differently. For a start, he'd be out looking for the real culprit instead of adding to Layla's grief.
