by Grace York
"You've probably heard that before, haven't you?"
"Once or twice. Where have you looked?"
"Everywhere in my office, which is where I was sure it would be. But it's definitely not in there." Addison popped another chunk of muffin in her mouth and made a mental note to tell Amelie how good they were.
"Is it possible it was there, but someone removed it?" asked Wilcox.
"I guess so," said Addison, not liking where this was going. "You don't think someone stole it and used it to lock Patrick's room after they killed him, do you?"
Wilcox said nothing. Addison could hear him breathing on the other end of the phone. The man needed to get his sinuses checked.
"Detective?"
"I'm still here," he said. "Look, it's clear from the crime scene that whoever killed Patrick wanted us to think he'd committed suicide. So the disappearance of your key is concerning. If the killer took it, they could have locked the door to the bedroom on their way out to help with their suicide set-up."
"I had a feeling you were going to say that."
"It's very important we find that key. What about your bedroom? Did you look there?"
"Yes, but I wasn't as thorough in there. I'll go and take another look."
"Please do that, and get back to me as soon as possible. If you can't locate it, I'm going to have to ask your permission to search the whole house. Including all of the bedrooms."
Addison paused, a chunk of muffin halfway to her mouth. "Don't you need to ask permission from the occupants of the rooms?"
"No. It's your house. Your permission is enough. I can get a warrant, but I'd hope that wasn't necessary."
"I'll go look in my room now and call you back," said Addison. She ended the call and left the last of the muffin on its plate. Suddenly she wasn't hungry.
She was halfway up the stairs before her phone rang. It was Olivia. They'd spoken yesterday morning about Patrick's death, but Olivia had had to cut the conversation short.
"Hi, sweetheart," Addison answered. "Is everything okay?"
"Hi, Mum. I'm fine. How are you? Do you want me to come home?"
"I thought you had a group assignment to do this weekend?"
"I do, but I'm worried about you. This thing at the beach house… your boarder. I feel like I should be there with you."
"Nonsense. It's okay, really. Layla is here, and the others. I'm fine. We just need to get to the bottom of it." Addison reached the top of the stairs and turned into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
"What do you mean, get to the bottom of it?" asked Olivia. Addison could hear the frown in her daughter's voice. "I thought he committed suicide?"
"Ah, no." Addison didn't believe in hiding things from her children. They were grown-ups, both of them, and deserved to be treated as such. She'd spoken to Justin at length on the phone last night, but hadn't wanted to disturb Olivia. Now she filled her in.
"Oh, wow. That's pretty heavy, Mum."
"Yes, it is. But Detective Wilcox and his team are on the case. Oh, that reminds me – do you remember where we put the master key? The one that opens all the bedroom doors? I searched high and low in the office, but I can't find it."
"That's because it's in the bottom drawer of your jewellery box. In your bedroom."
Addison almost slapped herself in the forehead. "Of course." She went to the jewellery box and found the key. They'd originally planned to keep it in the office, but then Layla had pointed out that anyone could go in the office and find it. They'd decided Addison's bedroom was a safer place for it.
"You got it?"
"Yes, it's right here where we left it. Thank you, darling. What would I do without you?"
"Spend all your time looking for things?" Olivia suggested.
Addison smiled because it was true. They chatted for another ten minutes, mostly about Patrick and what the police and everyone else thought about his death. The media were reporting it, of course, as Patrick was a reasonably well-known Australian author. They were still saying it was suicide, though.
"I'd better go, Mum," said Olivia when she was all caught up on the case. "Hey, you're not conducting your own investigation again, are you?" Olivia had been most displeased when Addison had made enquiries regarding the death of her cousin a couple of months ago.
"No. Well, not really. It did happen in my house though."
"Mum…"
"I'm not getting in the way of the police. Now off you go and finish that assignment."
"Bye, Mum."
"Goodbye, sweetheart. Love you."
"Love you too."
Addison walked to the window. She'd chosen a bedroom at the back of the house as her own, mainly because she thought the front rooms with their views of the beach would be more appealing to boarders, but also because she liked the garden view over the backyard. When she wanted to see the water, she could sit on the front verandah.
She pushed the window open to let the morning air in and called Wilcox back.
"Did you find it?" he asked immediately.
"I did. And hello to you too."
"Sorry. Hello. So you found it? Where was it?"
Addison explained her hiding place for the key, and the reason behind it.
"So you think it was there all the time? No-one could have borrowed it, and put it back without you knowing?"
"Well I can't be certain, but I don't think so. None of the boarders even knew it existed until last night. Only myself, Olivia, and Layla knew there was a master key before Patrick was murdered. And I don't think anyone has been in my jewellery box. Nothing seems missing or tampered with."
Wilcox sighed down the phone, and Addison felt sorry for him. This case was terribly confusing.
"Are you getting anywhere with any of your suspects?" she asked. "Have you been able to rule me out, at least?"
"Not technically, but I'm pretty sure you didn't do it."
"Why would I? I can't see it being terribly good for business having a boarder die here, whether he committed suicide or not."
"Exactly."
"So what have you got?"
"I can't—"
"I know, I know, you can't discuss an ongoing investigation. Can you tell me anything?"
"Well, there is something you should probably know. We've been doing some background checks on your boarders. The other young man you have staying there, Adam O'Loughlin, what do you know about him?"
Addison stared out the window for a moment. Should she tell Wilcox about the argument Amelie overheard? Did it really matter? Of course it did. This was a murder investigation, and like it or not, her boarders were all suspects. She relayed the morning's conversation with Amelie to the detective.
"I see. That makes what I'm about to tell you even more enlightening. But you have to keep it to yourself, Addison. I shouldn't be disclosing this, but as the young man is living in your house I feel I have a duty."
"What is it, Isaac? What's Adam done?"
"He's had an arrest for attempted murder."
13
"Attempted murder? Are you serious?" Addison backed away from the window and sat on the edge of her bed.
"I wouldn't joke about something like that," said Wilcox.
"No, of course not. When?"
"To be fair it was quite some time ago. From the records we've been able to uncover, he was only nineteen at the time. It looks like a bar fight that got out of hand."
Addison pulled both legs up onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard. She hadn't been prepared to hear something like this.
"Was he charged?"
"Initially, yes. He spent a couple of days in lock-up, but then all the parties came to their senses and charges were dropped."
"Still, attempted murder is very serious."
"Yes it is. We didn't find anything else on him, so it looks like he's cleaned up his act since. Or else he hasn't been caught again. But I'm not sure I like the idea of you having someone with a history of violence in your house, A
ddison."
Addison was surprised at his level of concern. Isaac Wilcox was a nice man once you got past the gruff, no-nonsense policeman exterior, but after only three months in Getaway Bay she barely thought of him as a friend.
"Well, thanks. I think. But do I really need to be concerned? I mean, if there's been nothing since, maybe it can be put down to youthful exuberance?"
"Maybe," said Wilcox, but he obviously wasn't convinced.
"I'll have a word with him," said Addison. Adam probably had a reasonable explanation for such a charge on his record. It didn't mean he was a bad person.
"I'm not supposed to have told you that." Wilcox sighed again. "I think it's best if I come over and speak to him first."
"Okay. Whatever you need to do."
"Thank you. Does ten o'clock this morning suit?"
"Fine," said Addison. "I'll make sure he's up. Oh, that reminds me – is it okay for us to clean up Patrick's room now? All that black dust, and the broken door…"
"Yes, go ahead. If you package up all his things, I'll make sure they get to his family."
Addison wanted to ask what family Patrick had, but Wilcox said goodbye and hung up before she got the chance. Oh well, she could ask him when he came over. She checked the time, it was almost nine. The rest of the household should be up by now. She put her phone in her pocket and headed back downstairs to the kitchen, where Layla was making coffee and eying the chocolate muffins she'd taken out of the oven.
"Oh, shoot. I forgot about those!" said Addison, rushing over to inspect the muffins.
"They're fine," said Layla. "The timer went off just as I got down here. Relax."
Addison took a deep breath. Wilcox's news about Adam had upset her more than she'd thought. But she couldn't tell Layla about it just yet. Better to let Isaac bring it up with Adam first. Then maybe she could ask him herself.
"Thanks," she said, sticking a skewer into one of the muffins to make sure they were cooked through.
"I already did that," said Layla, frowning.
"Oh. Sorry, can't help myself. I'd better get these packed up and take them in to Hazel. She'll be waiting." Addison got out the containers she used to transport her baked goods to the cafe and started loading them up. "Detective Wilcox is coming over in an hour or so," she added. "Amelie's out for a run, but she should be back by then. Can you make sure everyone else is up and about if I'm not back in time?"
"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 w
ere 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."
