by Grace York
"Apparently they continued drinking beer, and discussed the twins' upcoming birthday," said Isaac.
"I read that they're supposed to quit travelling and go work for their father's mining company once they hit twenty-five," said Adam.
"Yes," Isaac agreed. "That's what they were discussing. According to Brody, Chad was keen to get to work, but Trent wasn't having it. He was threatening to leave the country rather than go and work at the mine."
"Surely they wouldn't have been going to work in the actual mine," said Addison. "I presumed going to work for Burchard Mining meant some sort of management role."
Isaac nodded. "Yes, but Brody said for the first couple of years at least they'd be based out at Mt Isa, where the company's main operation is. Trent wasn't looking forward to the prospect of living in such an isolated place."
"Not to mention hot," said Adam. "Isn't it regularly over forty degrees there?"
"It's not somewhere I'd like to live," said Kendall.
"So Trent wasn't happy about starting work for the company," said Addison. "What does that have to do with him being murdered?"
"Possibly nothing," said Isaac. "But we need to establish who the victim was in order to have the best chance of figuring out who killed him. Your daughter would know all about that. She studied victimology as one of her subjects last year."
"Victimology," Addison repeated. "I guess that makes sense. So Erin went to bed, and Trent, Brody, and Chad stayed up talking. Then what happened?"
"Chad and Brody say they both went to bed in their own tents sometime after one am. Trent was still up when they left."
"So how did he get to The Point?" asked Adam. "It must be a couple of hundred metres walk through the bush from the campsite."
"It's two hundred and fifty metres, to be exact," said Kendall. "Chad said Trent had wandered down to the lighthouse at Echo Point a couple of times at night since they'd been camped there. There's a track, and they'd head down there of a morning to check out the surf. Apparently, Trent was an insomniac, and he went out there at night to think."
"Really?" asked Adam. "From what I've found out about the guy, he didn't seem much of a thinker."
"You can't believe everything you read in the news, Adam," Addison chastised.
"That's true," Adam conceded. "So did he go out to the lighthouse to think last night?"
"Neither Chad nor Brody saw him go, but they assume that's what happened. Neither of them heard any commotion or other voices in the camp after they went to bed."
"What about Erin?" Addison asked. "They were sleeping in the same tent, I assume. Did she say whether Trent came to bed or not?"
"We haven't been able to interview her yet," said Isaac. "The hospital phoned not long ago to say that she's stable, so we'll go in and interview her first thing in the morning. But Chad and Brody's statements align, so we have no reason to suspect any foul play at the campsite. Which points to Trent heading off to the lighthouse on his own."
"So either someone followed him, or he met someone there," said Kendall. She'd finished whatever she was doing on her computer, and now picked up her plate of chicken and avocado salad. "This is delicious. Thanks, Addison."
"You're welcome."
Isaac finished his food and put the plate back in the basket Addison had brought. He then pulled the whiteboard into position and began writing up a list of names.
"Ricky Maddison, Chad Burchard, Brody Hitchcock, Erin Sinclair," Adam read as Isaac wrote. "Those are the suspects?"
"So far," said Isaac. "Ricky was seen fighting with the victim the night he died, and the other three were the last to see him alive. None of them have alibis."
"Ricky slept on the beach after the party," Kendall explained. "A few others did as well, but they were all pretty drunk. No-one was able to tell us with any certainty whether Ricky left the area once they all went to sleep. He swears blind he didn't, but without anyone to back him up we can't rule him out."
"And Chad, Brody, and Erin were all asleep in different tents," Addison said.
"Correct," said Isaac. "All claim to have gone to bed, Erin just after midnight and the other two later, before Trent went walkabout. Chad and Brody say they went straight to sleep and didn't hear anything until Joey came to wake them this morning with the news."
Adam helped himself to another plate of salad. "So who found the body?"
"Ricky Maddison," said Isaac. "He says he woke early and went over to the base of the point to check out the waves. That's when he saw the body on the rocks. He went over, saw it was Trent, and went back to where his bag and phone were to call me."
"How did he know it was Trent and not Chad?" asked Adam. "They're identical twins."
"He recognised the black eye he'd given Trent the night before. He was actually worried the punch had had some sort of delayed reaction, and that's what had killed Trent."
"Is that possible?" asked Addison.
"It's not unheard of," said Isaac. "But we're pretty certain the fall from the cliff is what killed Trent Burchard. The autopsy will confirm it tomorrow."
They were silent for a moment, and Addison stared at the list of names on the whiteboard. She'd met Ricky Maddison a few times. He was a bit of a hothead, but he didn't strike her as a killer. Which left the three people closest to the victim – his brother, his girlfriend, and his friend. Could one of them have killed him?
As she started packing up the dirty dishes, Addison had another thought.
"Has his father been notified?" she asked Isaac. It felt wrong to be standing here discussing Trent's murder if his family were unaware of his death.
Isaac shook his head. "We've been trying to contact him. Apparently, he's out of the country on business. We've told his secretary it's urgent we speak to him; she's doing her best. Chad is also trying to get in touch. Hopefully we'll get hold of him soon."
As if on cue, the bell above the police station door rang as someone stepped inside. As Isaac went around to greet them, Addison took a peek around the corner.
It was Malcolm Burchard.
6
"Then what happened?" asked Brooke. She and Lenny were sitting at the kitchen counter with hot chocolates, listening to Adam relay what had transpired at the police station that evening while Addison surveyed the contents of her fridge and pantry. Olivia was helping herself to a bowl of ice-cream.
"Then we left," said Adam, eyeing Olivia's treat. "Isaac hustled us out of there pretty quickly once Malcolm Burchard made an appearance."
"Rightly so," said Addison. She'd pulled a few ingredients together and decided she had enough for a couple of batches of muffins in the morning. That should get Hazel through until she could do a proper shop tomorrow. It was hard to believe she'd been baking for Hazel's café for almost a year now. She still loved surprising her friend with new recipes as well as old favourites every morning.
"Yeah, I know," said Adam. "We didn't need to be there when Isaac told Burchard his son had been murdered." He got a bowl for himself from the cupboard and intercepted Olivia before she could put the ice-cream away.
"It still could have been an accident, couldn't it?" asked Lenny.
"Isaac doesn't think so," said Addison. "The bruises on Trent's body could have been accounted for by the fight he'd had with Ricky earlier in the night, but Isaac says there were signs of a scuffle at the top of The Point. The forensics team have apparently taken impressions of a number of different footprints."
"So it could have been more than one person?" asked Olivia.
"It's too early to tell," said Adam, sounding like he was leading the investigation rather than just helping as a police volunteer.
"How's your new manuscript coming along?" Addison asked him, changing the subject.
"It's fine, thank you," said Adam. He finished filling his bowl and put the ice-cream back in the freezer. "I'm on track to have the first draft of this one finished before the first book is published in April."
"I'll have written two books t
his year by then," said Brooke. "And Lenny will have written three. You're a slacker, Adam!"
Adam opened his mouth to argue but closed it again when he realised Lenny and Brooke were both laughing. The three of them had had this argument more times than Addison could count. They always eventually agreed that it didn't matter how fast each of them wrote. What mattered was what the readers thought.
Both Brooke and Lenny had an avid fan base, something Adam, who had signed a deal with a publisher but was yet to see his first book on the bookshelves, could only dream about. But he was smart enough to learn from them, and Addison always enjoyed listening to the three of them discuss their shared passion for writing.
It was something she had in common with them as well, but she was still struggling to get her head back into her own writing. While Addison had written a number of short stories, as well as a couple of novel-length books, she'd never had the nerve to publish any of them. She'd never even shown them to anyone. Perhaps one day she'd ask Brooke to have a read of one. Listening to Brooke talk about writing romance last year had inspired Addison to think about a romantic series of her own, but as yet she hadn't come up with a suitable story.
"We should look at each of the suspects," said Adam, breaking Addison out of her reflection. "See who had a motive for wanting Trent dead."
"I think that's our cue to leave," Brooke said to Lenny.
"Oh, but babe! It's just getting interesting."
Brooke laughed and dragged Lenny towards the back stairs. "Come on, we've still got work to do tonight. Let's leave the sleuthing to the official police volunteers for now. We'll get caught up tomorrow." They said goodnight and headed up to their room.
"I suppose I'd better leave you to it as well," said Olivia, placing her empty bowl in the dishwasher.
Addison didn't want her to leave, but she also didn't want Olivia getting too involved in the murder case. It wouldn't be too long before she was due back at university, and she deserved to have a break from all things criminal.
"We'll do something fun together tomorrow," Addison said.
Olivia kissed her mother goodnight and left them to it.
"The family are always first on the suspect list," said Adam. "Trent's brother Chad was one of the last to see him alive. Let's start with him."
"What sort of motive does he have?" Addison asked.
"Well the Burchard Mining Company is worth a fortune, for a start. With Trent gone, and no other siblings, Chad's inheritance presumably doubles. Surely that's motive enough."
It made sense, of course. And Addison knew people killed for money all the time. She still struggled to believe it, though. "Were they close? As brothers, I mean?"
"Well they were twins," said Adam. He had his laptop open again. "According to Wikipedia they were very close growing up. They were sent off to boarding school after their mother died, and the two of them were inseparable. But lately it seems they argued a lot over Trent's lifestyle. Chad felt Trent needed to grow up and take responsibility. So it's not impossible Chad could have had enough of Trent's antics and decided to put a stop to it for good."
"I don't know," said Addison. "What if it was an accident, like Lenny said? A scuffle at the top of the cliff could have got out of hand. Especially if they'd both been drinking, which they clearly had."
"Chad broke down pretty bad when he saw the body this morning, too," said Adam. "That would have been hard to fake."
"We've seen our fair share of fakers, though," Addison reminded him.
"True. So Chad Burchard has the popular motive of money. What about Brody Hitchcock?"
"He's their friend, right?"
"Friend and bodyguard, according to this website. He went to the same boarding school, but on a scholarship. His parents aren't as loaded as Malcolm Burchard. But they went to the same university, and apparently Malcolm hired Brody as the twins' bodyguard as soon as they'd graduated. From the looks of it he'd assumed the role before that anyway. There's rarely a photo of the twins without Brody in it as well."
Addison made herself a hot chocolate and took a seat at the kitchen bench next to Adam. "So what motive could he have?"
Adam thought for a minute. "If the twins were going to work for the company, would he still have a job?"
"You would presume so," said Addison.
"And if Trent kept on refusing to go to work, would he still have a job?"
"Again, you would presume so. Even more so; if life continued as normal for Trent, he would need Brody to keep him out of trouble."
Adam scratched his chin. "Either way, Brody stays in a job. So there's no motive there."
Addison agreed. "Let's come back to him. What about the girlfriend, Erin? How long had they been together?"
"Just over a year, by the looks of things," said Adam, reading from his screen. "They got together right before Christmas the year before last. She's from England. She'd been in the country a month, backpacking with a friend, before she met Trent at a nightclub."
"And they've been together ever since?"
"Looks like it. There are loads of photos of them together on multiple websites. The magazines like them, too. Lots of pictures of them together scantily clothed on tropical islands, that sort of thing."
Addison had to wonder why people bought such magazines. They must, though, if the magazines stayed in business.
"Here's something," said Adam. "A couple of articles reporting that Trent had been unfaithful. If there's any truth in that, it might count as motive for Erin."
"Could be," said Addison, although as she looked over Adam's shoulder, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl having her life splashed all over the Internet.
Addison realised it was only a matter of time before the photographers would be in Getaway Bay again. At least this time they'd be concentrating on Echo Point.
"Have you been out to the lighthouse at Echo Point?" she asked Adam.
He shook his head. "No. Too busy writing. It's no longer a working lighthouse, is it?"
"No, I don't think so. But I did hear there was a caretaker who sometimes stayed there overnight. I wonder whether he was out there last night?"
"Isaac would have known by now if he was," said Adam with a weary sigh. "I think I'm going to call it a night."
"Me too, as soon as I've finished this," said Addison, lifting the hot chocolate to her lips. It was a new one she'd found, chocolate with a hint of mint, and it was delicious. "Goodnight, Adam."
"Goodnight. And Happy New Year."
Happy new year indeed, thought Addison. After the chaos and upheaval of last year, she'd been hoping the new year would bring a sense of stability to her life. Not that she minded chaos, if she was honest.
But a few less murders would be nice.
7
The next morning Addison was up at six and back into her baking routine. In addition to blueberry muffins, she found she had the ingredients for a sweet potato and date cake she'd been meaning to try.
The cake and muffins were in the oven and she was just sitting down to a cup of coffee and some toast with honey when Charlie, who'd been sitting quietly in the corner, started carrying on like a pork chop. Addison looked out the window to see Mrs Jones's familiar figure traipsing up the back steps, Bella at her heels.
"Good morning, Mrs Jones," said Addison as she opened the door. She quickly became concerned when she noticed her elderly neighbour walking with a limp. "Oh, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing, dear," said Mrs Jones as she struggled into the kitchen. Addison pulled out a chair, and Mrs Jones sat herself down with a sigh.
"It doesn't look like nothing."
Charlie and Bella greeted each other enthusiastically, and Addison shooed them outside as she waited for Mrs Jones to explain her condition.
"I might have strained something while I was gardening yesterday, that's all," said Mrs Jones. She seemed to be in a lot of pain for a simple strain, thought Addison.
"Let me get you a cup of tea, the
n maybe we'll see if we can get some ice on that for you."
"Don't go to any trouble, dear. I'm sure it'll be fine."
"It'll be fine a lot sooner if we treat it." Addison held up a hand as Mrs Jones opened her mouth to protest. "No arguments. You're in my house now, my rules."
Mrs Jones just nodded, and Addison went about making the tea. She was filling the teapot when Adam wandered into the kitchen, yawning, and wearing only boxer shorts.
"Adam!" Addison scolded. "We've spoken about this, and we've got company. Put a shirt on, at least."
Adam frowned, waved hello to Mrs Jones, and raced back up the stairs. He appeared moments later properly clothed.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much," said Addison.
"Sorry," he added, before peering into the oven. "Smells great. What is it?"
"Blueberry muffins, and sweet potato and date cake."
Adam screwed up his nose at the second one. "Why is it a thing to put vegetables in cakes these days?"
Addison opened her mouth to answer but found she didn't have one.
"It's all this healthy eating fad, isn't it?" said Mrs Jones. "It's probably vegan or gluten free or something."
"Not this one," said Addison. "The cake has eggs and flour, and the icing is made from cream cheese and butter."
Adam raised his eyebrows. "That's sounding better," he said, checking out the cake in the oven again.
"Well I didn't bake one for us, so you'll have to make do with a blueberry muffin today," said Addison.
"I love your blueberry muffins," he said with a smile before setting to work on the enormous bowl of cereal he had every morning.
Addison turned her attention back to Mrs Jones and caught her wincing in pain as she tried to cross her legs.
"I think that's more than just a strain," said Addison. "Why don't you tell me what really happened?"
Suitably chastised, Mrs Jones confessed. "I might have had a small fall in the garden yesterday," she said. Her eyes darted from Addison to Adam and back again.
Addison took the hint. "Adam, can you take your cereal somewhere else? I need a quiet word with Mrs Jones."
