by Grace York
"Sure," said Layla. "What does he want?"
"More questions. We'll have to wait and see," said Addison. It wasn't a total lie.
Layla helped Addison load the morning's baking into the car, and Addison drove the short distance into town. By the time she'd unloaded the containers and taken them into the cafe, Hazel had a coffee ready for her.
"Thanks," said Addison, taking a grateful sip. She always looked forward to this part of her day. Sure, she could make coffee at home, but it wasn't a patch on Hazel's.
"No, thank you," Hazel replied, eying the contents of the containers. "We haven't had cinnamon scrolls for a while. These are going to go down a treat."
"They're pecan cinnamon scrolls," said Addison. "Thought I'd try something different. Make sure you label them."
"Will do," said Hazel as she started transferring them into the display cabinet. "We've got a few folk with nut allergies in town. Can't be too careful." Hazel lowered her voice. "So, how are you all getting on over there?"
"It's pretty rough, to be honest," said Addison. "Have you heard the latest?"
"About it being murder? Yes. Eleanor Moffett's been in here already this morning spouting off about it. I think her grandson is friends with that new policeman they've got, what's his name?"
"Constable Diaz."
"That's him. Eleanor's apparently been pumping her grandson for information. Delighted to have a source on the inside, she is. Although I doubt he's actually told her much."
"Well if she knows it was murder, someone's told her something."
"True."
A customer came in, and Addison had to get back home, so she said goodbye to Hazel and took her coffee and empty containers back to the car. She couldn't get the news of Adam's long-ago arrest out of her head. Did it mean anything? Was it just a youthful indiscretion, or was Adam… was he what? A violent man? Someone she and the rest of the household should fear?
The thought didn't gel with the person she'd come to know this past month. He was young and full of bravado sometimes, sure, but she'd also seen a much softer side to him. She couldn't reconcile that image of him with an attempted-murder charge. That was a serious charge, even if it was subsequently dropped. She needed to understand what happened that night in the bar if she was going to remain comfortable having Adam live in her house.
She pulled into the driveway of the beach house right behind Detective Wilcox.
"Good timing," she said, as they both climbed the stairs to the verandah. "Where's your off-sider?"
"Senior Constable Short is on another callout."
"And the new guy?"
"Manning the station. I figured I could handle this one myself." He stood back and let Addison open the door.
"Come on in, then," she said. They entered the great room to find the rest of the household in the lounge area. Ivy, Amelie, and Layla were seated, while Adam stood to the side eating cereal from a bowl.
"Good morning, everyone," said Addison. "Detective Wilcox has a few more questions." She didn't single Adam out, Wilcox could do that himself. "You can use my office. I'll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me."
As she left she heard Wilcox ask Adam to join him in her office. She desperately wanted to eavesdrop, but that wasn't possible. She'd just have to ask Adam later and hope he opened up to her.
"How's Hazel?" Addison turned to find Layla had followed her into the kitchen.
"She's good. Happy with the cinnamon scrolls."
"I assume you saved some of those for us?" Layla asked, eyes wide with hope.
Addison smiled. She pulled a container out of the pantry and took off the lid. "I made an extra batch for us. Well actually I thought I'd messed one batch up, so I kept those for us and made a second batch for Hazel. But I think these ones turned out okay."
Layla reached into the container and pulled out a scroll. "I'll be the judge of that." She took a bite, and Addison didn't think her eyes could get any wider. "Delicious!" she announced.
The coffee Hazel had made for Addison was still half-full, so she gave it a quick zap in the microwave to warm it up and settled at the kitchen table with the coffee and a scroll. Layla joined her.
"What's all that about?" said Layla, nodding in the direction of Addison's office.
Addison had to tread carefully. She didn't want to get Wilcox into trouble. "I think he found something in Adam's past he wants to ask about," she said.
"Oh, interesting. Anything to do with Patrick? Maybe they knew each other before they came here."
"I don't think that's it. Let's wait and ask Adam once Wilcox is gone."
"Fair enough," said Layla. "Hey, do you know how things were between Patrick and Amelie before he died?"
"I know she loved him," said Addison. She took a bite of the cinnamon scroll. Her accident with the spilled milk mixture hadn't made a difference. They were pretty tasty. "And she told me he didn't love her back. That must have been hard."
"I think it went further than that," said Layla. "He told me he wanted to come here alone, but she'd begged him to let her tag along. She'd told him she wouldn't stay long."
"Why was he so desperate to get rid of her?"
Layla shrugged. She finished off her cinnamon scroll. "He thought she was stifling his creativity."
"But by all accounts, he'd started writing again once he arrived here."
"That's what everyone keeps saying, but I'm not so sure. He was definitely working on something, but I don't think it was another book."
14
"How do you know all this?" Addison asked Layla. They were alone in the kitchen, but she kept her voice down – it wouldn't do for any of the others to overhear.
"Patrick and I chatted a couple of times. To be honest, I was trying to play matchmaker. I knew how much Amelie liked him; whenever we got together to discuss our work she always managed to bring the conversation around to Patrick. He didn't seem as keen, though, and I thought maybe I could find out why."
"So that's when he told you she was stifling his creativity," said Addison.
"Yes. After that I wasn't trying to get them together anymore. It was pretty obvious he wasn't interested."
"Did you tell Amelie that?"
"I tried. She didn't want to hear it."
Addison sipped her coffee. She'd known there was tension of sorts between Amelie and Patrick, but hadn't realised the extent of what had been going on in her house. Patrick and Amelie had arrived together, but they took separate rooms and said they were just friends. Addison had deliberately tried to stay out of her boarders' personal lives, not wanting to come across as an interfering old woman. Maybe she'd been too distant.
"So Amelie wanted a relationship with Patrick, but Patrick wasn't interested," Addison summarised. She lowered her voice further still. "Do you think Amelie could have killed him?"
"Because of unrequited love?" said Layla. "It's a stretch."
"It's as good as anything else we've come up with so far," said Addison. "Plus, he seemed quite interested in Ivy this last week. What if Amelie was jealous?"
"You think he was romantically interested in Ivy?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe." Addison was beginning to wish she'd paid more attention to the goings on in her house recently.
Layla was about to say something but stopped when the door to Addison's office opened.
"Thanks for your time," Wilcox said to Adam.
"No problem." Adam grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and headed off up the stairs.
"Well?" said Addison to Wilcox once she'd heard Adam's bedroom door close.
Wilcox looked at Layla and then back at Addison. "I can't—"
Addison held up a hand. "Don't even say it. I'll talk to him later."
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 Louie." 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."
