Bianca was interested and intrigued. “Hmm. You need to find out what the actual substance used was. Then you can try and clear your boyfriend.”
I tried not to think about that word too much. Was that even what Matt still was to me? I hadn’t been back to his house since The Dreaded Talk, but over text, I had still been acting as though everything was fine. “It would be handy if I could get my hands on the post mortem reports,” I stated.
“Hmm.” Bianca mused on this. “Are you cozy with anyone in the local police department?”
I scoffed loudly. “Ah, no. The opposite. We have an enemy there. Very unlikely that he would share information with us.”
Sergeant Wells hated both Alyson and I ever since the day he caught us snooping on his property because we thought he was a murderer. Talk about making enemies in high places.
“What about a local reporter who might have early access to private information?”
“Huh.”
I had to think about that one for a moment.
There was Rachael Beckham, but I wasn’t sure how much she wanted to speak to me after we had had a bit of a falling out over the last case. I told that to Bianca. “It’s a shame, because we were friends. But I suppose I could try to patch things up, try my luck.”
“Why don’t you let me help out?” Bianca asked. “I can be pretty charming.”
“Er, yeah, I know you can be.”
But that was going to be a “no” from me. After what had happened last time she’d tried to help me out with a member of the press, I wasn’t letting Bianca come with me ever again. I’d auditioned for a role as a local news anchor and had fallen flat on my face, but Bianca had actually gotten the job.
But I just smiled sweetly and told her I would think about it. I had picked up that trick from Kate. Meanwhile, I would just ask her to watch the shop for a while as I ‘went to the hair salon.’
The Eden Bay Journal was not a hair salon, but Rachael Beckham did have a new hairstyle. I complimented her on it as soon as I walked in.
She had a knowing look on her face. She was amused to see me. “Seems like you and Alyson just can’t stay away from this joint this week.”
“Alyson has been down here?” I asked in surprise.
Rachael stepped back a little and looked intrigued. “You didn’t know? You two should actually try working together sometime.” She laughed to herself as she sifted through a pile of papers. I knew it would give her a thrill to know that there was some kind of tension between Alyson and I.
Except that there wasn’t.
“We are working together,” I replied quickly. “I just didn’t know that she had been down here. What did she want?”
Rachael waited a moment to build the suspense. “She wanted to know which restaurant owners might have had a grudge against Arthur Hannon. I told her that Reinhold Walker had threatened him.”
But that was old news and I was relieved when I realized I already knew that. I grinned smugly. So, I was still one step ahead. “Actually, Alyson has been working at The VRI this week and she’s told me all about that.”
The smug smile on Rachael’s face faded just a little, but I couldn’t afford to get her too far off side.
“What are you here for, Claire?”
I shrugged. May as well get straight to it then. “Info. I know that the police give you access that you technically shouldn’t give to people. But you’ve given it to me before.”
She stared at me. “Yes, well, that was back when you and I were friends.”
“And we’re not friends now?”
She tilted her head to the side and gave that a long, hard think. “Well, that all depends,” she said. “On just how friendly you want to be. So, let me ask again, what is it you want to know?”
“What substance was used to kill Arthur Hannon?”
Rachael looked down at her desk and nodded a few times. She shuffled some papers again. Really took her sweet time. “What is in it for me?” she asked, finally looking up.
Was she talking about a bribe? I couldn’t afford it. I wouldn’t do it even if I could have afforded it.
Maybe Bianca could have afforded it. Maybe I was too quick to tell her I didn’t need her help. Maybe I could call her.
But I had my morals anyway. “I’m not paying you, Rachael. Believe it or not, I’m trying to do the right thing. But I need this info so that I can.”
Rachael shrugged. “Did I ask you for money?”
I rolled my eyes a little. “No, but you were about to.”
She crossed her arms. “Not necessarily. There are other things I value. What about an interview?”
I had no idea what she would want to interview me about. She had printed words I’d said before—about Alyson—against my will and without my permission. I certainly didn’t trust her enough to tell her anything else.
“About what?” I asked.
Rachael smiled slyly. “About Matt Foulkes. He’s the most talked about man in town right now. Readers would practically kill to read an interview with the person who knows him best. His girlfriend.”
I was silent. “Yeah, right,” I said, about to back out. I knew her tricks. No way.
But Rachael didn’t want me to go. “Come on,” she said. “You give me a few words about Matt—whatever words you like—and I’ll tell you what I know. Doesn’t that seem fair?”
I gulped. Was that a deal I was willing to make? Well, I could use it as an opportunity to clear Matt’s name. She said I could use whatever words I liked. And they would be as sweet as candy.
“Fine,” I said. “Tit for tat. That only seems fair.”
She smiled at me and told me to take a seat and make sure that I was comfortable. It was a high plastic stool with no back, so I was not that comfortable. I was perched like I was about to fall off.
I was going to make sure that I was not caught out. My guard would be up, and I would be on the lookout for any tricks that Rachael was trying to pull.
“Relax, Claire,” she said with a laugh. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
Well, we had been. Once. But she had used my words against me and almost ruined my relationship with Alyson. I wasn’t sure what kind of friend did that.
“So, you’ve been to Captain Eightball’s before?” Rachael asked. Her tone was neutral as she started taking notes.
“Of course I have. I am a regular there.” Geez. I could see what she was doing. Trying to make me look naive and badly-informed. Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. “I go in there at least once a day.”
She was still giving me a ‘yeah right I don’t believe you’ stare, so I amped up what I was saying.
“Sometimes multiple times a day. I even help Matt clean up some nights when he does the closing shift.”
Rachael stared at me.
“Well, I’m sure you don’t know what they keep in the kitchen.”
“Of course I do,” I said with indignation. “I have been in there many times. Like I said, I help him clean up. Not just inside the restaurant, outside as well. There’s weeding and picking up to be done out there.”
Well, I mean, I had only been in the kitchen a few times and I’d only actually helped Matt do the weeding once, but I was familiar with the ingredients and cleaning products they stored there. There had been several times in recent weeks while Matt was gunning for the promotion where he had put in extra hours and effort to clean, and I had given him a hand so that he would get the manager’s job. I was familiar enough with the routine that I could have done it on my own by that stage.
Rachael paused. “So, do they have pure nicotine in the storage room, right?”
“Yes, they do. They use it as a natural pest killer for the bugs in the outdoor dining area. Matt doesn’t like to use insecticides as he does not want any animals to get killed,” I said, happy about how that would come across.
“No. Just bugs.”
I slumped down a little. “Well, pests, yes…”
Ra
chael looked up sharply. “So, Matt had access to the pure nicotine?”
“Yes, he did,” I said too quickly and saw this look of utter glee come over her face. I didn’t quite understand how, but I had just given her exactly what she wanted. And I had just been caught out, in spite of all my precautions.
“That’s funny,” Rachael said, putting the cap back on her pen. “Because that is the poison that was used to kill Arthur Hannon.” She smiled at me. “So, there is your tit for tat, Claire.”
9
Claire
Words. You’ve gotta be careful how you use them.
And you gotta be careful how you use the information you get.
There was a warm wind blowing as I made my way up the hill. The scent on the air, faintly of roasted peanuts, took me back to a moment in high school, before I was the confident woman I was now. Fitting, because I was shaken.
Now, look. I know that there are times when it’s best to tell the truth and times where it’s best to keep what you know to yourself, so as not to hurt another person, because that is another kind of truth. Usually I was pretty clearheaded. Usually I could tell which time was which.
But this was not one of those times. The inside of my head felt as warm and blustery as the air. I was jumbled, rattled. I even pulled on my hair, which I usually wouldn’t touch.
I was completely torn. I knew something. Something bad. But I hadn’t wanted to know it, had I? Maybe I could just pretend I had never actually heard what Rachael had told me. No one could prove otherwise, could they?
But once you knew something, it was impossible not to know it. I wondered if there were any books in the shop about memory loss, and how to purposefully bring it on. Maybe there was a machine out there that a scientist was working on that could erase any painful memories but still keep the good ones. I saw a movie about that once.
But at the moment, the memories, the knowledge, swam in my head and there was no way to knock it out. Did I have more loyalty to Matt, or to the truth?
It was time to skate.
Normally, messing up my hair was a big no-no, and I knew that the cool kids didn’t wear helmets. But also, getting a severe head injury wasn’t cool, and I was rusty, so I clipped on the black helmet and slouched a little just in case anyone was watching. Black was cool, right?
At first, I had the entire skate park to myself—just the way I liked it—because school was still in session, even though it was to be school holiday for two weeks. This would be my last chance to skate solo as it would be swarming while all the kids were on break.
So there was no one around to see if I made a complete fool of myself.
Unfortunately, there was no one around to witness me if I was completely amazing either. Which was what happened. I took the drop in smoothly, and then landed an axle with ease. Precision. Like I was seventeen years old. So much for rusty! I could have gone pro. Why did I ever give this up? I thought, suddenly picturing the sponsorship deals I could get… And then I stopped my train of thought dead in their tracks. I realized who I sounded like at that moment.
Darn. It was easy to let a bit of success go straight to your head. And I could see only how seductive those thoughts can be. I decided to go a bit easier on Matt next time he told me about his dreams of going pro—even if, eventually, I was going to have to break it to him gently and say, no, honey, that is really never going to happen, and it’s best that you hear it from me before you find out that everyone in Eden Bay is laughing at you behind your back.
I just hoped that no one was laughing behind my back. Because for all I knew, I did have an audience. After all, there were houses right next to the skatepark and there could be some fans with the curtains pulled back, taking a good look at my skills. Kinda made me a little self-conscious to be honest. But I nailed the nose blunt stall and even managed a bit of a pivot at the end as I finished off proudly before I paused for air. I liked to imagine that if there were people in their houses looking out at me, they were clapping.
Once my break was done, I swept back up smoothly to the top of the ramp again. Rinse and repeat. Rise and fall. And finally, I had an audience. A real live one that I could see. All I needed to do was keep my cool.
There were kids, fresh out of high school once the bell had rung, watching me do my thing. Admiring me? Hmm, maybe they were wondering what this fossil was doing on their turf.
Maybe I could show them a thing or two.
One of them broke away from the rest of the pack a bit. He must have been seventeen or eighteen, in a blue school uniform top but with ripped jeans and a thick piercing in his left ear. Eden Bay High was pretty relaxed with uniform rules, which was something I used to hate back in the day when Alyson would turn up with tie-dyed top on and not even get a detention and meanwhile I would be dressed head to toe in complete uniform and people would make fun of me.
“Hey, I’m Scott,” he said with a little wink as though he was flirting with me. Had he mistaken me for a girl his age? Sure, it was flattering to be mistaken for a seventeen-year-old, but I took off my helmet and shook out my hair so that he could see what age I actually was.
“Claire,” I said simply in return. I thought that introducing myself as Claire Elizabeth Richardson might be a little too much in context.
He nodded at the tee I was wearing. It was a black top with a design of an animated moon with legs holding a skateboard. “Where’d you get the sick threads?”
I stared down at the shirt. “Oh. Had this since I was your age,” I said, tugging down at the material which was slightly more fitted than it had been a decade earlier. I remembered, vaguely, that Alyson had bought it for me for a birthday present and I had always kept it. And that was the first time I had ever said to her, “You know, I think you should design your own stuff.” Because even though the design on the shirt was cool, I knew that she could do even better. That people would pay her for it. I was so pleased that she was getting the recognition now that she had always deserved.
So, I thought the shirt would be pretty hard to find it in stock now.
Scott seemed a little disappointed, but I was sure he would get over it. Especially when I told him about Alyson’s designs and how she was presently having a sale down at the beach. Not just on surfboards, but on anything that a customer wanted. “And you’d want to get in cheap now while she’s still an unknown, because pretty soon she is going to be a big deal in the design world…”
He said he would check it out and thanked me for the hot tip. I couldn’t help but admire how polite teenagers were these days compared to back in my day. He was willing to chat and hang out even though I was a bit older and must have seemed awfully uncool to him.
I sat down on the edge of the ramp and he took a seat next to me. A polite two feet away. I liked this kid.
Except then he said something immediately that made me reconsider that. Or at least threw me.
“So, you know anything about that dead guy?” he asked.
I looked at him quickly, shocked. Had this kid just been reading my mind? Because even though I’d been skating, Arthur Hannon was still on my mind. Or maybe he was on everybody’s mind.
Or maybe kids these days weren’t so polite and friendly as I had thought they were. Maybe they were just like everyone else, always working an angle. Out to get something.
Did he know who I was?
He hadn’t seemed to.
I just shook my head to make it seem like I didn’t know anything. But then I wondered if maybe I should be trying to pry something out of him, so I casually said: “Heard he was in politics. Made a few enemies.”
Scott nodded. “You could say that.” He looked like he was trying to keep something in, but I knew how hard it was for seventeen-year-olds to keep secrets. I just kept quiet and let him keep talking.
Scott swung his legs over the side of the ramp. “My sister tells me she is working with the sister of the guy they reckon did it. Matt Foulkes.”
I blinked a few times.
“Who is your sister?” I was confused.
“Her name’s Celeste. She works at The VRI.” As he continued to speak, it was clear he had no idea that I had any connection to Alyson Foulkes, let alone Matt Foulkes. He was just a kid who thought he had a bit of gossip and wanted to impress me by sharing it. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, but it was hard for me to judge right then. Suddenly my back was up, and I was taking careful note of every word he spoke, trying to figure out the angle. After my run-in with Rachael, I was never going to say too much to anyone ever again. So I was cool, silent.
Scott kept yapping on, though. “She’s been trying to get info out of this Alyson chick. Trying to figure out what she’s trying to hide.” He shrugged. “But that’s okay. We all know what really went down.”
We did?
I had to pretend to be interested. Well, I was interested. VERY. But I had to pretend that I was only interested in the sense that this was some causal goss I was privy to. Nothing too personal. “Ooh, and what has she found out?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager to get the goss. But not disinterested either. The kid was cool. He might just skate right off if I didn’t play it exactly right.
He shrugged. “Nothin’ much so far. But we do know that that Matt guy didn’t like that Arthur dude. They’d had some kind of argument before.”
I froze. Kinda scoffed, but in a low-key way. “Nah, no way Matt already knew the guy.” I shook my head and looked up at the sky, as though I wasn’t too bothered by it all. I had to be careful not to give too much away. But I didn’t want this Scott kid spreading rumors all over town.
He picked up his board and started to stand up. Great. He really was going to skate right away and leave me there. I needed to know more. Desperately.
I just couldn’t sound desperate.
“So, this Matt…dude,” I said with a little shrug. “Why did he have beef with Arthur?” I hoped I was using the right lingo.
Scott didn’t seem thrown by anything I’d said. “They had this massive fight. Matt Foulkes chased that Arthur guy out of the restaurant one night for bothering his girlfriend—Kate or something—and we all saw him threaten him.” He nodded toward the side of the ramp where there was a grassy patch. “It happened right here.”
Milkshake Murder Page 5
