by Grace York
"Have you been able to find out anything about Louie Liu," she asked, changing the subject slightly. He was still number one on her list.
"He's got a record, but we're not sure it's related. Small-time drug use, one charge for supply that was dropped due to lack of evidence. Your friend Jason told me Louie had disclosed all of this to him, and was trying to straighten himself out. He'd asked for a chance to work, and Jason said he was happy to give the guy a go. So far he hasn't let him down."
Addison wasn't surprised at Jason's kindness, his willingness to give a guy a fair go. That's the type of person Jason was. But news of Louie's criminal past didn't sit well with her, under the circumstances.
"The story he told you when we were all at the table that first night didn't add up," she said. She explained how Louie had come in after the murder saying he'd heard screaming, when he'd later told Wilcox and Short he'd been listening to music and hadn't heard anything. "He also took his time coming into the house if he did hear Ivy scream," she added.
"We'll be re-interviewing everyone in light of today's search," said Wilcox. "I'll bring up this discrepancy with him, see what he has to say."
Addison was glad to leave it in his hands, although she also decided to have a word with Jason to make sure he kept a close eye on Louie.
"Thanks for lunch," Wilcox said to both of them as he stood. "I'd better get back to the station. Short has the afternoon off."
A thought occurred to Addison. "What have you taken?" she asked. "From your search, I mean. Have you found any evidence?" Ivy was still out with her brother. Addison was going to have to explain why her room had been searched in her absence.
"Nothing, according to my people. We didn't find Patrick's laptop, if that's what you're asking. I'll see you later."
He left Addison and Layla in the kitchen. The timer went off, and Addison reached into the oven and pulled out the cheesecake pie.
This case got stranger and stranger. What was so important on Patrick's computer that someone would break into the police station to retrieve it?
18
Addison felt stifled in her own home. The police coming and going, the reporters outside, the house guests on edge – it was all making her feel very uncomfortable. She had to get out.
"Where are you going?" asked Layla when she saw Addison pluck her car keys off the ring by the front door.
"I need a break. I'm going into town. Do you want to come?"
"I can't, I'm in the middle of a project and I want to get some more done before it dries. But it's a good idea. Go clear your head. Don't worry about dinner tonight, I'll handle it."
"Thanks," said Addison, grateful again for her cousin's presence. The two of them were very good at picking each other up, or 'taking turns falling apart', as Layla had put it.
Addison ignored the news crews as she drove the Rav 4 out of her driveway and into town. She hadn't known where she was going, but wasn't surprised when she pulled up outside Hazel's cafe.
"What are you doing here on a Sunday?" Hazel asked when she made it to the counter. There were three groups of tourists in the bustling little cafe, as well as a few locals. Luckily Hazel had help today.
"I had to get out of the house. All this business is driving me crazy. Do you have time to make me a coffee?"
"Of course. Take a seat, I'll bring it out. I've got one of your pecan cinnamon scrolls left if you want it? On the house, of course."
"No thanks. I couldn't eat, to be honest. Just the coffee will be enough."
The only free table inside was one for six people, and Addison didn't want to take that up in case a group came in for lunch. She opted for a small table for two out the front of the cafe. Ivy had been right, it was a beautiful day. Addison took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sunshine while she waited for her coffee.
"I thought that was you," said a deep voice beside her. She opened her eyes to find Jason standing next to her table.
"Oh, hi. What are you doing in town?"
Jason nodded towards a figure standing across the street in the town square. She had a small dog on a lead, who was sniffing about the flowers. "We were just taking Kendall's dog for a walk," he said.
Addison's eyebrows shot up before she could control her surprise. "We? Kendall?" She looked closer, and realised the woman with the dog was Senior Constable Kendall Short.
Jason blushed. "Yeah. We've been seeing each other for a few weeks. I know it's quick, after Jenna…"
"Don't be silly, Jason. I think it's wonderful. She's… lovely."
Jason wasn't fooled. "She actually is, outside of work. She's good at her job, but once she changes out of the uniform she's really quite sweet."
"If you like her, then she must be."
"Thanks. I'll come over and fix that door tomorrow for you. How are things going at the house? Is it still weird?"
"The atmosphere is a little tense, yes. Hey, I don't want to keep you, but do you mind if I ask you a quick question?"
"Sure." Jason held up his hand to indicate five minutes to Kendall, then sat opposite Addison. "What can I help you with?"
"It's about Louie. I know he's been a good worker and all, but with all that's happened…"
"You know about his past, don't you." Jason scratched his chin.
"Detective Wilcox mentioned he had a record. Drugs?"
Jason nodded. "Yeah. I know about it all. He made some mistakes when he was younger. He's a family friend. He asked for my help, and I agreed to give him a chance. So far he hasn't let me down. But I understand your concerns. I won't bring him back to the beach house if you're uncomfortable."
"You don't have to go that far. I'm all for giving people a second chance. But maybe we both could keep an eye on things, just until the police finish their investigation?"
"Agreed. Anything else?"
"No. Get back to your date. Enjoy yourself, Jason. You deserve it."
He said goodbye and trotted over the road to Kendall, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked off to the other side of the square. Addison smiled, it had brightened her day to see Jason so happy for a change.
"There you go," said Hazel, placing a coffee on the table in front of Addison. "Sorry I can't stop and chat, it's busy for a Sunday."
"All the news crews in town, I expect," said Addison. She laughed in spite of it all.
"I guess so. Take care, won't you?"
Addison nodded, and Hazel retreated back into the cafe. Addison had only taken one sip of her coffee when a shadow came over her again. She looked up, this time finding the stooped figure of Eleanor Moffett standing over her.
"Mind if I join you for a minute, pet?" said Eleanor.
Addison searched her mind for an excuse, but she was too slow. Eleanor had already lowered herself into the chair.
"Ah, that's better. These old hips aren't what they used to be."
Addison took a deep breath and waited. She didn't have to wait long.
"Terrible business, this murder out at your house. How are you coping, dear?"
"We're doing okay, thanks for asking. Detective Wilcox is on the case. I'm sure he'll uncover the truth soon enough."
"Yes, of course. So he hasn't got it figured out yet then?"
Addison picked up her coffee mug and made a big deal out of taking a small sip. She didn't have the patience to deal with Eleanor Moffett right now. Where was Mrs Jones when you needed her?
"He's doing his best," she eventually said.
"Of course he is. Good detective, that one. We're lucky to have him in this town."
Addison just nodded. Eleanor didn't need any encouragement.
"Quite sensational though, isn't it? A famous author, murdered right here in Getaway Bay. And not long after that cousin of yours, too. What was her name?"
"Jenna," said Addison, although she was quite sure Eleanor Moffett knew Jenna's name perfectly well.
"That's right. Jenna. Poor lass. And now this young man. I've read his book, y
ou know. It was very good. Do you know whether he'd written the next one? Maybe it will get published posthumously, and he'll be even more famous."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Eleanor. There wasn't another book as far as I know."
Eleanor shook her head, as if this news was even more devastating than Patrick's death. "Oh well. Maybe his family will take over the series then. Or another writer. Like that Robert Ludlum fellow. Someone else is writing his books now, aren't they?"
"I wouldn't know." Addison drained her coffee and stood. "It's been lovely chatting, but I must get back."
"You've got another young man there, haven't you? Another writer? Maybe he can take over this Wilde fellow's books. It was very good, that one I read. Be a shame to leave it at just one."
"Goodbye, Eleanor," said Addison. She fished her keys out of her bag and was in the Rav 4 before Eleanor could protest. Addison didn't like to speak ill of anyone, but Eleanor Moffett tried her patience sometimes. No wonder Mrs Jones did her best to steer clear of her these days.
The old gossip did remind Addison of something she'd meant to follow up, though. Patrick's family. The idea that Patrick had stolen thousands of dollars of his parents' life savings didn't gel with the man she'd met two weeks ago. As she drove home to the beach house, she tried to come up with a way to get Isaac to give her the details for Patrick's sisters.
She'd like to have a chat with them.
19
Back at the beach house the media contingent seemed to have grown, if anything. Didn't these people have anything better to do with their Sunday afternoon? Addison wondered whether any of them had rolled up their trousers and snuck off to the beach while waiting for something to happen.
Adam was in the kitchen making himself a sandwich when Addison came in. Charlie bowled through the dog door and jumped up to greet her, and she bent down to give the little dog a cuddle. She was glad Olivia had talked her into keeping him.
"I took him for a walk," said Adam. "Kept him off the beach, though. Those reporters are a bit full-on, aren't they?"
"Did they ask you any questions?"
"They tried. We ignored them, didn't we, Charlie?"
Addison hung her keys on the hook and sat at the kitchen table. "Can you come and sit for a minute, Adam?" she said. "I'd like to talk to you."
Adam shrugged, grabbed his sandwich and a plate, and joined her at the table. "What's up?"
"I'm sorry you have to go through all this," she began. "The police, the media, the whole thing."
"It's a crappy situation for all of us," said Adam. "But it's not your fault. You don't need to apologise. I just wish they'd hurry up and find out who did it. I can see it's really hard on you, too."
"It is," Addison agreed. She wasn't sure how to broach the subject of his arrest. She decided to just come straight out with it. "Adam – Detective Wilcox said there was some trouble in your past. It's what he came to speak to you about yesterday morning. Do you feel comfortable talking to me about it?"
Adam took a bite of his sandwich, eyes downcast. He took a long time to answer.
"It's not my proudest moment," he eventually said.
"No, I got that impression. We all make mistakes. But it would help me out a lot if you could tell me about it."
Adam nodded. "I guess I owe you that much. It was a bar fight. There was this guy, he was talking to a girl, and it looked to me like she didn't want anything to do with him. I asked him to leave her alone, but he refused. She told me not to bother, but he kept going and she looked scared. It wasn't right."
"So you stepped in?"
"Yeah. I hit him. I was nineteen, my mates were all there, I was full of bravado. I wasn't interested in the girl, just wanted to make sure she was safe from him. But I could have handled it way better. Anyway, it turned into a big fight, and the guy ended up in hospital. It was pretty serious."
"Was he okay?"
"Eventually, yeah. But they charged me with attempted murder. My dad got me a good lawyer, who argued with the police, and it was all over in a couple of days. The guy woke up and immediately dropped the charges." Adam picked up the sandwich, then put it down again without taking a bite. "I got the feeling he didn't want anything to do with the police, for whatever reason. I didn't care, I just wanted to put it behind me. Taught me a pretty good lesson, though."
"I'll bet it did," said Addison. "Has anything like that ever happened again?"
Adam shook his head. "Not a chance. I've kept my fists to myself ever since. It's not worth it. If that guy had died…"
Addison believed him. Telling the story had brought it all up again, and she could see how upset it made him. She noticed a slight tremor in his hands to go with the fear in his eyes. It must have been a close call.
"Thanks for being honest with me," she said.
"You've been really good to me, Addison. It's hard to make a living as a writer. Not to mention the difficulties of having something like this follow me around. You opening your home to people like me, giving us an affordable and fun place to live, it's amazing. I should have been honest with you from the start."
"It's all in the past, Adam. There was no reason for you to bring it up. Not until Patrick…"
He straightened his back. "I promise I had nothing to do with Patrick's death."
"I believe you," said Addison.
"What do you think it has to do with his computer?"
Addison shrugged. "Detective Wilcox seems to think there must have been something incriminating on there," she said.
"Did they find anything before it was stolen? I mean, they had it for two days, right?"
"Apparently Senior Constable Short went through it but couldn't find anything of relevance to the case. It was due to be sent to Brisbane tomorrow for a more sophisticated analysis."
Adam finished his sandwich. "Which they won't get to do now. Gees, I wonder what was on it? Or how did whoever killed him know there was even something on it?"
"It just gets more complicated," said Addison. She stood and went to the fridge. She hadn't eaten all day, and Adam's sandwich had looked good. It was closer to dinner time than lunch, but she was suddenly hungry. Half a sandwich might hold her over.
"Do you know where Amelie was going last night?" Adam asked.
Addison turned back to look at him. "What do you mean? When?"
"After we all went to bed. I heard her moving about in her room, then her door opened. It creaks, and I recognised the noise. Then a few minutes later I looked out the front window and she was heading off toward the road."
"I didn't hear anything," said Addison. "I must have been asleep. Do you know what time it was?"
"Around midnight."
"Did you ask her about it?"
Adam shook his head. "She scares me a little, to be honest. I told your detective friend, though. I figured he could ask her." He put his plate in the dishwasher. "I'm going to try and get some more work done before dinner. Do you need any help here?"
"No thank you, Adam. Layla offered to make dinner tonight. I'm just going to make myself a snack, then maybe have a rest. You go and get stuck into your work."
"Okay. See you later." Adam turned and jogged up the stairs, leaving Addison to wonder where Amelie had gone off to at midnight last night.
20
Addison was just sitting down with her snack when Ivy came home. "Hi," she said, between mouthfuls of sandwich. "Oh, Ivy, I need to talk to you before you go to your room."
"Okay." Ivy took a seat at the table opposite Addison.
"The police came after you left this morning," said Addison. She explained the break-in at the station, and how the police had a warrant to search the beach house. "I'm sorry, but I had no choice but to let them into your room. I tried to call, but you didn't answer your phone."
"That's okay," said Ivy. "I have nothing to hide. They didn't take anything though, did they?"
"Not that I'm aware of. They would have said if they'd taken your computer or anything, I'm su
re."
"Oh I had my laptop with me. Sorry I didn't answer your call. I was playing with the kids, and then time just got away."
"No problem. Did you have a nice day?"
Ivy's face lit up as she spoke of the fun she'd had with her brother's family. She obviously enjoyed spending time with them. It was lovely to see. Addison wondered why she didn't have any children of her own. She'd blurted the question out before she had chance to stop herself.
"I wasn't able," Ivy said softly, her face darkening.
"I'm sorry, it's none of my business," said Addison.
"No, that's okay. I don't mind talking about it. I was married once. We tried to have children, but it didn't happen. In the end we found out it was my fault. He didn't stay long after that. I didn't blame him; he wanted a family, and I couldn't give him one."
"Oh, Ivy. I'm so sorry."
Ivy took a deep breath. "It was a long time ago. I've moved on. My stories are my babies now. And I just adore Dan's two, when I get the chance to see them."
Addison reached for Ivy's hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's good to have family."
"Oh, hey, speaking of family, Annette said something today that made me think. We were talking about Patrick, of course, and she asked whether he might have had any obsessive fans. I didn't know, he didn't mention any to me. But I thought it was a good point. We never really ruled out the possibility of an intruder, did we?"
"No we didn't," said Addison. "Detective Wilcox said it was unlikely, but not impossible."
"Do you know whether Patrick had any fans hanging around? You know, the type that might get a little too close?"
Addison tried to think. It was a good point, actually. She wondered why she hadn't thought of it herself. Patrick was a reasonably famous author, at least here in Australia. Mrs Moffett seemed to be big fan. What Ivy was suggesting was certainly possible.
"I don't recall him mentioning any, but then he might not have known. It's worth looking into."
"Yes, I thought so too. Maybe you can mention the idea to Detective Wilcox. That might fit with the laptop being stolen, too. Maybe there were some emails or messages they didn't want the police to find."
