by Polly Holmes
“I’ll take over the counter now if you like, Clair,” Suzi asked.
Clair smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Suzi. Alex and I should be going anyway.”
Alex was about to hand her apron to Clair when she froze, her gaze glued to the counter where the woman had stood a moment ago. No, it couldn’t be…could it? Alex’s heart stopped beating and the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She moved closer to the counter. Yes, I was right. Navy blue Dame Edna look-a-like glasses sat to the side of the register.
“Alex, what’s wrong?” Clair asked in a concerned tone. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Maybe I have. Look,” Alex said pointing to the glasses. “Navy blue Dame Edna look-a-like glasses. That gorgeous woman left them on the counter. It’s her, the mystery woman Daniel saw with Marcus.”
“Are you sure?” Clair asked.
Alex nodded picking up the glasses. There was no doubt in her mind that they were the ones the woman was wearing in the picture Daniel had on his iPad. Alex looked up, her jaw tightened, matching the tense knots in her gut. “We may have just let a murderer walk out of here.”
Suzi stepped closer. “Are you serious? Then you need to call the police. Daniel was saying he sensed she was a bad egg.”
A feeling of unease boomed in Alex’s chest. “There’s no time. Come on, Clair, let’s go,” she barked, grabbing her bag. “We need to follow her. We can call the police on the way if need be.”
“Right behind you, sister.”
Clair followed her as they headed out to the street, thankful she wasn’t alone. Tourists crowded the cement pavement, sauntering along at a snail’s pace as if they had not a care in the world, shopping bags in their hands. Her eyes darted quickly left then right, just in time to see the slender figure of the woman in question jump into a blue Range Rover. What is it with that woman and the colour blue? Blue glasses. Blue car. Blue outfit.
“Come on, she’s leaving.” Alex sprinted toward her car, jostling shoppers and causing a teenage boy to drop his skateboard. Ignoring the expletives exploding from his mouth, she made it to her car just as the woman pulled away from the curb.
Clair sucked in deep breaths as Alex slammed the car gear into drive and took off. “Calm down, Alex. I thought that boy was going to throttle you.”
Alex kept her eyes fastened to the blue car while her heart pulverised the inside of her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll get over it. Keep your focus on that blue car.” Clair giggled. “What’s so funny?”
“You sound like you’re in a James Bond movie.” Clair deepened her voice and pointed out the windscreen. “Follow that car.”
“Pfft. I wasn’t that bad. Besides you can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same?” Alex caught a glimpse of discomfort pass Clair’s face.
“Yes, you’re right. I would have done exactly the same. One sec.” Clair fiddled around in her bag and pulled out her phone. “We may need evidence and my iPhone has one of the best cameras out. You drive and I’ll snap the pictures.”
“Good thinking.” Alex gasped as she took the corner a little more sharply than she intended. “Sorry. She’s fast and I don’t want to lose her trail.”
“You won’t, but it will be no good if you wrap the car around a tree or get too close and she spots us following her,” Clair snapped. “Ease up, she’s heading up the highway. We’ll be able to keep a clear watch on her.”
Clair’s words sent icy shivers through her body. They’d only had a handful of fatal car accidents in Ashton Point and it was always a crushing blow to the whole town when they lost a loved one. “Point taken.” She eased off the accelerator and pulled back enough to maintain visual sight of the car. Alex balked as the salty air grew stronger when they got closer to the ocean.
The relentless mid-morning sun beat through the window, frying Alex’s driving arm. She cranked the air-conditioner up to combat the outside heat. Her skin tingled as a trickle of sweat rolled from her neck down her collarbone finding a home in her cleavage. “I don’t believe it. She’s headed toward John’s Cape. Why would she be going there of all places? There’s nothing to see but a lighthouse.”
“Maybe she’s into lighthouses. I guess we’ll find out soon enough, looks like she’s slowing down. Pull in beside that motor home.” Clair pointed to the Jayco.
They inconspicuously hid just enough of their car not to be noticed spying. “The perfect spot to find out what she’s up to.”
Both watched eagerly as the mystery woman stood, leaning against her car and waited, and waited. And waited. Her impatience was wearing Alex down. As time dwindled away, a bundle of nerves swarmed her stomach. This is a waste of time. Maybe I should leave the investigating to the detectives.
She turned to Clair, disheartened. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ve wasted enough time and I really don’t want to be late for work.”
“Look,” Clair said pointing past Alex’s head toward where the woman stood.
Alex’s heart jumped into her throat. She was about to give up but their gamble had paid off. A tall, shady-looking man stood inches from the mystery woman, his face hidden by his hat and scarf. “Who is that? Can you see his face?”
Clair shook her head, her hands fiddling with the camera on her phone. She zoomed in, but neither woman could see his face. “I have no idea, but it’s over thirty-five degrees outside and he’s wearing an overcoat, hat, and scarf, so I’m guessing he’s trying to hide his identity.”
A ripple of fear ran through Alex as the woman shrunk away from the man’s threatening frame. And then he was gone. “I don’t know what’s going on but she looked terrified of him. Maybe he’s the killer, maybe he’s DA, or maybe she is.”
The continual whining snap of Clair’s camera competed with the crashing waves against the rocks. “That’s a lot of maybes. Maybe we follow her and see where she goes now.”
Alex looked at her watch. “I suppose I have a little more time before I have to be at work.” She drove at a more respectable speed this time, keeping the car at a safe distance, her mind occupied with the image of the unknown man. Was he a tourist or a local? It wasn’t long before the blue Range Rover pulled into the parking lot of the Seaside Motel and the woman jumped out and made a beeline for the top floor.
“Is it me or does she look in a hurry?” Clair asked.
Alex felt the moment slipping away. “Should we call the police and tell them?”
“And tell them what, exactly?” Clair huffed. “That we followed this mystery woman to John’s Cape and she met a man who we don’t know, then we followed her to the Seaside Motel? For all we know she could be meeting a man about a car or they’re lovers planning a secret rendezvous. It wasn’t like they kept the meeting secret, they were out in the open. It’s not a crime to meet someone, even if they do look shady. If I’ve learnt anything from my run-ins with the police, it’s make sure you have the evidence before opening your mouth because the chances are they won’t believe you.”
Alex’s heart deflated. Clair was right, they had no concrete evidence. Maybe I’ll mention it to Kayne tonight on our date. A tingle of excitement danced up her spine as the image of Kayne in uniform sprang into her mind. Tight chest. Tight backside. She couldn’t deny her stomach flip-flopped when she thought of him. Did he like her as much as she liked him?
The buzzing ring of the Bluetooth signalling an incoming call shattered her thoughts of romance. One hand shot to her chest to ease her racing heartbeat. She pressed the accept button. “Hello.”
The sweet sound of her mother’s voice boomed through the rear car speakers. “Alex.”
“Hi, Mum, I’m on the way to work. You’re on speaker phone and Clair’s with me.” Alex glanced at Clair and shrugged.
“Hi, Clair. Where are you?”
“Hi, Mrs Cohen,” Clair said.
“Alex, I don’t want you to worry.”
The sudden change in her tone had Alex’s gut turning over. “What’s wrong?”
>
“The garage has been broken into. We think last night sometime.”
“What?” Alex sucked in a deep breath as her knuckled fists clutched the steering wheel. “Are you and Dad all right? What did they take?”
“Yes, yes, we’re fine love. It’s not too bad, but it appears that they were only interested in your stuff.” –My stuff?– “The only reason we found out was because your father is lending the lawn mower to George Stevenson, as his is broken, and when he went in, he noticed that your things had been ransacked.”
Ransacked? What the?
“Just my stuff?” Alex asked.
“Yes, love. I can’t believe the nerve of some people. We reported it to the police and they said to jot down what’s missing and they would be over soon to check it out. They said it would be best if you could pop around and see what’s missing?”
“Sure, Mum. I’ll see if I can pop over after work.” And hope Kayne doesn’t mind starting our date at a crime scene.
Chapter Eleven
A WEEK OUT from Christmas Day and Ashton Point Hot Springs was pumping with tourists. Dalton had rung in to say he was working from home and would be in later. It was a chance for Alex to exercise her managerial skills. Mish had been happy to come in and grab a few extra hours leading up to Christmas.
“Holy cow, I can’t believe how busy it is,” Mish said, handing change to a happy customer. “I should have guessed. Since school finished last week, the town has been taken over by teenage cretins looking to have some fun and blow off steam.”
A hearty laugh bellowed from Alex’s belly. “Oh, Mish, you do make me laugh.”
Mish’s eyes widened and she harrumphed. “Well, someone’s got to, you’ve had a pretty rough trot these past few weeks, what with breaking up with Marcus and then having his body turn up on the floor of your kissing booth.”
Alex cringed. “Don’t remind me.”
Mish continued her chit-chat between customers. “I heard the police have an idea what the murder weapon is.”
Alex’s heart squeezed and her stomach was heavy with dread. “They do?”
Mish nodded, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Well, I heard from Mary-Jane at the chemist, who heard from Kelly at Snip ’n’ Sew, who heard from Margarete, who got the information direct from Katie at The Chronicle that it was blunt force trauma that killed Marcus and they all say the police have indicated it was a metal pole that did the deed. Don’t ask me how they know, they just do.”
Metal pole? “What sort of metal pole?” Alex asked, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her palm.
Mish shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? Apparently, the police have a suspect in mind but they’re waiting for the fingerprint results before moving ahead with the investigation.”
A sliver of panic scuttled up Alex’s spine. She was 90% sure she knew exactly what the murder weapon was and whose fingerprints they’d find. …hers. The metal pole from the sail sign had been on the ground a few metres from the body. The sign scrunched up in a heap at Marcus’ feet. She hadn’t given it a second thought at the time, but now, in light of Mish’s new information, it looked like her spot as the number one suspect was well and truly cemented.
And if that was the case, Kayne would surely cancel their dinner date tonight. The thought irritated her conscious like a piece of grit inside an oyster.
Over my dead body am I going to let Marcus come between Kayne and me!
Alex made a conscious effort to put her worries aside, vowing to call Kayne for an update on her break. She headed toward the storeroom calling out over her shoulder as she went. “Are you okay for a few minutes? I’m just going to grab some supplies.”
“Of course.”
“Can I please have a half-strength latte, a salad roll and one of those orange cupcakes?”
Alex had taken less than five steps toward the storeroom when she froze, her heart momentarily stopping. That voice. The familiar husky voice hung in the air like a thick fog. Alex spun and her hazel green eyes widened. Her pulse quickened as she stood face to face with the mystery woman. What was she doing at The Springs Café?
“You,” Alex blurted.
The woman’s brows knitted together and her back stiffened. “Excuse me?”
A burst of confidence sailed through Alex. “You’re the woman Marcus was seen talking to the afternoon of the Christmas Fair.”
She paled and took a calculated step backwards. “I’m sorry, I think you have me mixed up with someone else.”
Adrenaline pumped through Alex’s veins. “I don’t think so. You were seen talking to Marcus, in—” She paused, and her tense hand fished the blue sunglass from her bag. “—in these.”
“Where did you get those?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“You left them at CC’s Simply Cupcakes this morning, right before you took a drive out to John’s Cape to meet a man that looked like he was straight out of a Mafia movie.”
She frowned. “You followed me?”
“Yes, I followed you and I’d do it again,” Alex snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “Especially when it comes to murder.”
“Murder? I didn’t murder Marcus, I loved him.”
Hurt crushed Alex. Her words stabbed her in the heart as sure as she’d taken the knife and done the deed herself. A wave of betrayal hit her hard. “Looks like you and I are one and the same. I too loved Marcus. Loved being past tense. I think you and I need to have a chat.”
The woman balked, grabbed her bag of goodies and handed Mish her money. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
A wave of anger rolled over Alex. Not if I can help it. “No problem. I’ll just let the police know the mystery woman The Chronicle spotted with Marcus is staying at the Seaside Motel. I’m sure they’d love to know about your meeting this morning. Mobile phone cameras can be so handy these days, don’t you think? I’m sure they’d love to chat, especially since they found female fingerprints all over the murder weapon.”
Shock widened in the woman’s ice blue eyes and she paled. A momentary sliver of guilt curled deep in Alex’s chest. Although she was stretching the truth a little, there was some truth to her words. They would find female fingerprints on the murder weapon, if it came from her stall. Her fingerprints.
“No, I had nothing to do with Marcus’ murder, I swear. Please, you have to believe me,” she begged.
“It would be a lot easier to believe you if I knew the truth,” Alex said. An expression of defeat washed over the woman’s face and a whirl of triumph flooded Alex.
“Okay, you win,” she said gazing around for a quieter spot to chat. She pointed to the one spot not occupied by noisy, hungry tourists. “How about the empty table and chairs over there?”
Alex followed her eye line and nodded. “Mish, I’ll be back soon. Call me if things get out of hand.”
Mish nodded and held her hand up to her ear in a phone gesture. She mouthed. Shall I call the police?
In all honesty, Alex didn’t think the woman would try anything in such a public arena. Alex shook her head. “I’ll be okay.”
Alex sat on the opposite side of the table and her gaze fell on the woman’s twitchy hands. The pain in her eyes was like what you’d see in a child’s who had just lost their puppy. Marcus had caused so much pain, it was time to let it go. He was dead. Her heart was a closed door to Marcus’ hurts.
She began, her voice coated with sadness. “I know you may not believe me, but I didn’t kill Marcus. My name is Zoey Lewis. Marcus and I were in love and I thought it was going really well. That is, until he just didn’t come home one night.”
Alex’s throat tightened at the familiar scenario. She’d spent many a night wondering where he’d gone and what he was doing. Her heart broke each time he’d slid into bed beside her in the early hours of the morning.
Zoey continued. “I live in Balmain and I’d given up hope of ever seeing him again. Then one day, three men turned up on my doorstep. Thre
e very dangerous men. They were looking for Marcus. They had a message for him. They said, to remind him that Santa doesn’t come to those who are on the naughty list and Marcus is at the top. It seemed I didn’t really know Marcus at all.”
That makes two of us.
“When I told them Marcus had left one day and never returned, one of them got really angry. He said that Marcus worked for him and he owed him.”
Alex’s brow wrinkled. “Owed him? What does that mean?”
The sadness wiped from Zoey’s gaze, now replaced with a growing anger. “Marcus was a thief. Can you believe it? A common criminal. A thief and he owed this man some jewellery worth a lot of money. My jewellery.”
Words caught in the back of Alex’s throat and she gasped.
“When the man started explaining, I knew he was talking about my mother’s jewellery, which she’d left me. I couldn’t believe Marcus would steal from me after everything we’d shared, but it was all a lie. Our whole relationship was based on a lie.”
The past four months whooshed through Alex’s mind like a movie in fast replay. If Zoey was living a lie, then so was she. A horrible façade she fell for hook, line, and sinker. Fury burned in her belly, but she did her best to keep her anger subdued. Her naivety wasn’t Zoey’s problem. “What happened to land you in Ashton Point?”
“Once I realised it was my mother’s jewellery Marcus had stolen I was determined to get it back. A friend of mine was able to trace his last known address to Ashton Point. I drove up to confront him. How was I supposed to know it was your annual Christmas Fair?”
“So did Marcus give you your jewellery back?” Alex asked, a knot forming in her stomach.
Zoey shook her head. “No, he hid it in a really safe place that his boss would never find. Apparently, he couldn’t bring himself to give it to him. He knew how much it meant to me. We made a deal. We’d meet at seven-thirty, after the fair at The Boathouse. He’d give it back and I wouldn’t go to the police and report him. But he never showed. I waited there ‘til around eight-thirty and when I realised he wasn’t going to show, I left.”
