by Sarah Bailey
‘I have twin stepdaughters,’ says Oli in an attempt to build rapport, but she immediately feels awkward referring to Amy and Kate that way. She smiles, keen to move the conversation on. ‘Is your son with your partner this morning?’
Cara stiffens. ‘It’s just me. No partner.’ She clearly has no intention of making this easy.
Oli presses on. ‘Right, what coffee would you like?’
At the counter she orders two short blacks and hands over her credit card. She glances back at the table. Cara is hunched forward looking at her phone, forehead furrowed. Oli never spoke to her during the initial investigation, but she remembers that Jo did. Back then Cara was twenty-four. She’s only a few years younger than Oli. Jo deemed her a miserable bitch, but that doesn’t mean much—Jo didn’t really like anyone.
‘So, why call me?’ Cara says when Oli returns to the table. ‘I’m hardly the epicentre of this thing.’
‘I found your number in my old notebook,’ Oli replies truthfully. ‘I worked on the story back in 2005 when I was at a different newspaper.’
‘And you figured my parents will be tied up with the police today?’
Oli smiles. ‘The thought did cross my mind.’
The coffees arrive. Cara knocks hers back in three short gulps. Dabs her lips with a napkin and applies some tinted lip balm. ‘My sister did always demand a lot of my parents’ attention.’
‘In what way?’ Oli asks, taking a sip of her drink.
‘In every way. Nicole is the kind of person who takes up a lot of time and energy. A real force of nature, I guess you’d say. My parents doted on her.’
Oli blinks, surprised at the bitterness in Cara’s voice. ‘That must have been hard.’
‘I got used to it. Plus, it wasn’t just them. Everyone loved her. I think …’ Cara pauses. Pivots. ‘So, do the cops have any idea where she is? Is that why you want to talk to me?’
‘I don’t know. The police haven’t released any new information yet, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know where she is. There’s a press conference later today, so they might say more then.’
‘Why did everyone think it was Nicole up at that house yesterday?’ Cara asks. ‘My folks are beside themselves.’
‘Some evidence at the scene led them to assume it was her. It’s awful, but it happens.’
‘Pretty shit for the families,’ mutters Cara.
‘I know this is all very difficult,’ Oli says, ‘but I do think your sister was living in that house. I think that’s why Alex Riboni was there.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Cara says churlishly.
‘You never heard from Nicole after she went missing?’
‘Nope.’ Cara scrunches up her serviette. ‘I thought she was dead. Are you sure the dead woman is Alex? Maybe the cops got it wrong again.’
‘They wouldn’t release the name unless they were sure.’
‘Pretty shitty to spend all that time in gaol, then just top yourself.’ Cara speaks like she’s spoiling for a fight.
‘Yes. My paper was actually about to interview Alex. Apparently she wanted to go on the record with some new information.’
‘Bummer,’ Cara says flatly.
Oli chooses to ignore her sarcasm. ‘You didn’t want to be with your parents today?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
Oli doesn’t reply, just looks at Cara and waits a few seconds.
‘Yesterday was the first time we’ve spoken since Titus was born,’ she elaborates.
‘You’re not close?’
‘We have the occasional phone call, and I see them at Christmas,’ she replies breezily. ‘But it always makes me feel like shit, so …’ She shrugs and wipes her sleeve across her nose. ‘I see my biological dad a bit these days. My mum’s dead, though. Heroin.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Oli says.
‘It’s fine. I never knew her.’ Cara taps her teaspoon lightly on the table. ‘And now Nicole’s disappeared all over again, huh?’ She slumps back in her chair. ‘God, it never ends.’
‘Have you spoken to her?’ Oli asks casually.
Cara passes the salt shaker back and forth between her hands and says in a dramatic movie-trailer voice, ‘Not since that fateful day in 2005.’
Oli tries to hide her frustration. Cara is hard to read, and her sarcasm is like a toxic poison infiltrating what Oli assumes is an interesting and vibrant personality.
Cara sighs. ‘Like I said on the phone, I really doubt I’ll be much use to you.’
‘And yet here we are.’ Oli looks at her expectantly.
‘Huh?’
‘You didn’t say no to the idea of talking to me. That tells me you want to say something.’
Cara crosses her arms. Rolls her eyes. ‘I was curious.’
‘Curious?’ Oli says sceptically.
‘What, everyone else is allowed to salivate over this bullshit and I’m not?’
‘Cara, I’m not trying to upset you.’
She mutters under her breath, and for a few moments Oli thinks she might cry. But instead she throws her hands up in the air. ‘What do you want from me? Childhood anecdotes? A sibling-rivalry subplot?’
Oli’s cheeks ache, tingle with heat. Cara is starting to annoy her. ‘What do I want? I want to know what happened that night. Young women don’t go around stabbing each other for no reason. And I don’t like stories that don’t make sense. I think Evelyn Stanley knew something or threatened someone or did something. I think Alex stabbed her, but I think there’s more to it. And your sister is the key to the whole thing, I’m sure of it.’ She pauses to breathe.
Cara’s dark eyes shine. ‘Even if you’re right, I can’t help you. I don’t know shit.’
‘You were close.’ Oli softens her voice. ‘You and Nicole shared a room until she moved out, and you stayed in touch. You were at the house the day Evelyn died. Maybe you don’t realise what you know.’
Cara’s bravado visibly fades, and she seems less certain. Her long fingers worry the large wooden beads that hang around her neck. ‘I wasn’t at the party. I wasn’t invited.’
Oli ignores her jealousy and presses on. ‘I know, but I remember you were at the house in the morning, right? Back then everyone spoke to the parents. But parents only see what they want their kids to be—siblings see the real picture. Tell me what the girls were really like. What Nicole was really like.’
‘It’s true that we were close, growing up.’ Cara looks at Oli as if daring her to object. ‘Really close. But I don’t think anyone ever knew Nicole.’
‘What do you mean?’
Cara’s gaze fixes on the wall, and her pupils dilate. ‘Nicole was different. It’s hard to explain. She was very extroverted and always had heaps of friends, but at the same time she didn’t really let anyone in. She could be very selfish.’
‘Wasn’t she a volunteer?’ Oli asks, cocking her head. ‘I remember something about her working with disabled kids.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ mutters Cara. ‘A couple of shifts here and there, a few charitable donations, a passionate speech at a school assembly, and she was a saint.’
Oli holds up her hands. ‘I never met Nicole and I have no point of view. I just want your version of her.’
Cara unfolds her arms and grips either side of the table. ‘Okay, look, I loved my sister, but that doesn’t mean I always liked her. She was incredibly self-centred. Extremely manipulative. And even though we didn’t have much money, my parents spoiled the living shit out of her.’ Cara blinks several times, clearly trying to ward off tears, then grimaces. ‘Nicole was their princess. It was gross, and yes,’ she rolls her eyes, ‘I was jealous, of course I was. I mean, come on, I’m adopted, then three years later the baby they’ve always dreamed of shows up. It was never going to be a good situation, but it didn’t help that Nicole was born the way she was.’
‘Which was how?’
‘Just, like, I don’t know. Like she could turn water into wine. She was lucky, but it was more than that.�
� Cara suddenly looks confused. ‘You would always find yourself doing things for her, even when you didn’t want to. Like you knew it was a bad idea, but you just couldn’t help it. She got her own way without being obvious.’
‘She was resourceful?’ Oli suggests.
‘Yes, and charming—she could always see a way. She knew what made people tick, and she drew them in, made them feel good. She listened to them, and they appreciated that. People felt indebted to her.’ Cara pushes her fingers into her eye sockets; her nostrils pinch, then flare. ‘We weren’t well-off, not at all, but you wouldn’t have known it to look at her. I don’t know what she was doing to get her hands on some of her clothes after she moved out. Maybe her friends gave her things, I don’t know. She certainly didn’t pay for them with her babysitting money.’
‘Do you think she was involved in something illegal?’
Cara’s left eyebrow jerks skyward. ‘Maybe. I really don’t know what she got up to after she left home.’ She sighs. ‘After school finished, she relied on me less and found new people to do things for her. She told us uni was a fresh start, then seemed to kind of forget about us. Her attitude really hurt my parents even though they wouldn’t admit it. She treated them like shit and left me to pick up the pieces.’
Cara reminds Oli of a scorned ex, one who can see her partner’s flaws but would still rather be in a toxic relationship than have them be with someone else.
‘You remember that show Family Ties?’ Cara says abruptly. Oli nods. ‘She was like that Michael J Fox character. She had moneymaking schemes for days. Even when she was a little kid, she always had a plan. She would negotiate deals with our parents. Friends. Even teachers.’
‘She wanted to be rich?’ Oli probes.
‘She didn’t like having to wait for anything, so I think she wanted the freedom of wealth.’
‘And you? Did she try to negotiate with you?’
Cara meets her gaze and makes a noncommittal sound. ‘I wasn’t immune to her. Plus, she was my sister. It was just the two of us.’
‘Tell me about Alex Riboni and Evelyn Stanley.’
Cara shrugs. ‘They were nice. I met them a bunch of times, and they were all really friendly—or they were to begin with.’ Her brows pull together. ‘I remember being surprised that Nicole seemed to have made such genuine friends. But after a while, something went down between them. The last time I saw them, Evelyn was a flat-out cow, moody and rude.’
‘But you have no idea what the issue was?’
‘Nope. I went over to the house just before lunchtime to drop off Mum’s fondue set that Nicole wanted to borrow. The three of them were arguing when I got there—I could hear shouting when I knocked on the door.’
‘So it was just Evelyn who was angry?’
Cara’s face relaxes as she casts her mind back; her eyes drift to the ceiling. ‘It was mainly Evelyn, but Nicole seemed annoyed, and the tension was crazy. I remember feeling really awkward standing in the kitchen.’ Her brow furrows. ‘It was something about a computer.’
Oli feels a prick of interest. ‘A computer?’
‘Yeah, I think so … I’m sure Evelyn said something about a computer.’ She bites her lip and shakes her head. ‘I’m not sure about the details, but that is definitely something I remember.’
‘What about Miles Wu?’ Oli tries to hide her frustration. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘Miles? He was a complete puppy dog. You should have seen the way he mooned around after Alex. It was kind of pathetic. But he genuinely seemed like a nice guy. A bit nerdy and book smart, you know? I couldn’t believe it when people were saying he was fucking Evelyn.’
‘That would explain the tension, though, right? If Miles was into Evelyn?’
‘Sure. But it was Evelyn who was angry, and Nicole too. Not Alex, though—she was kind of quiet. And I really didn’t get the feeling they were arguing about Miles.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It just didn’t feel like they were busting up over a guy. Nicole was worried, like she could tell something bad was going to happen. She was covering her bases, trying to mediate and smooth things over.’ Cara’s bottom lip juts out slightly, and her chin tilts toward the ceiling.
Oli mirrors her expression and matches her body language without being obvious. It’s an interview tactic that rarely fails her.
‘Honestly,’ Cara says after a moment, ‘if you’d seen them together you would understand what I’m saying. I don’t think Miles was the issue.’
‘Okay.’ Oli discards the line of questioning. ‘What do you think happened at the house that night?’
Cara directs her dark gaze at Oli and crosses her arms. ‘Science doesn’t lie. Alex’s DNA was all over the weapon.’ Cara shrugs. ‘Case closed. I don’t think my sister’s a killer.’
‘But you have no idea why she would disappear into thin air?’
She taps a fingernail on her empty coffee glass, then juts forward with sudden urgency. ‘Something was going on in that house. I could feel it. I think they all got tangled up in something they couldn’t handle. Which is weird, because I always thought Nicole could handle pretty much anything.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
OLI WATCHES CARA SAUNTER OFF DOWN THE STREET, HER HEADSCARF glinting in the sun. Her assessment of her sister rings true, her conflicting emotions seem authentic, and the argument she claims to have overheard feels important. There are a few witness reports of disagreements between the housemates in the lead-up to Evelyn’s death, but there has never been an explanation, only speculation. And no particular mention of a computer that Oli can recall from the trial, although the girls’ devices were all removed from the house. During the trial, Alex admitted to arguments with both housemates but remained vague, attributing the tension to stress about their study.
Oli stands on the wet footpath, thinking it over. Alex’s recorded voice keeps echoing through her mind. I’ve started to remember things about the night my friend died.
Digging around in her bag for her sunglasses, Oli makes her way toward a bench adjacent to a tiny square of parkland. A little girl peddles past slowly on a tricycle, her helmet so low it almost covers her eyes.
‘This way, sweetheart, this way.’ An older woman in jeans and a hoodie jogs awkwardly behind the trike, holding out her hands as if this will prevent the girl from pedalling into danger.
Had Alex really started to remember things, or had she simply grown tired of hiding the truth? Apart from her emotional confession hours after the murder, Alex had never spoken publicly about Evelyn’s death, claiming there was a gap in her memory. Until the interview.
Oli suddenly feels very alone. She tries to call Dean; no answer. Lily never called back, and Oli considers calling her now but decides she doesn’t have the energy for that conversation.
In the end, she calls Dawn.
‘Oli, holy shit, we’ve got it!’
‘What?’
‘TJ struck gold with the O’Briens’ neighbour. She’s gone on the record with a whole load of stuff that Julie O’Brien confided in her about. It sounds like that bastard was worse than anyone knew—drugs, hookers, possibly underage.’
‘What?’ Oli’s stomach clenches involuntarily as she steels herself against old memories threatening to invade her thoughts. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Apparently that was the last straw for Julie,’ Dawn says excitedly. ‘One of the prostitutes is allegedly threatening to publish photos from back when she was seventeen.’
‘Jesus,’ murmurs Oli. ‘That’s awful.’
‘I know. Thank fuck we landed it, though. We’re going live with it shortly, and it’s going to shit all over whatever the Sun has.’
Oli feels a twinge of jealousy. ‘That’s great.’
‘It is. Now, tell me, where are you on the Housemate story? I still can’t believe the cops fucked up like that.’
Oli fills her in on the conversation with Cara.
‘What does she think was on the compu
ter?’ Dawn asks. ‘Nudes?’
‘Or maybe evidence of a motive. I’ll dig around and see if anyone else knows anything about it.’
‘It would be great if one of the girls was getting her gear off,’ Dawn says, ‘but until you have proof, ideally photographic evidence, it doesn’t sound like there’s much we can run with.’
‘Not really,’ Oli admits, her heart sinking. ‘But it’s good context for my feature. If Cara’s right and the girls were mixed up in something, people might be more willing to come forward now than they were ten years ago. And maybe I can press the cops, see if anything was found at the Paradise Street house that they’re keen to go over again now.’
‘Worth a shot,’ Dawn says distractedly.
Oli pauses, working out whether to reveal what Rusty mentioned to her in Crystalbrook. She decides to ask in case Dawn has heard something too. ‘Did your source say anything about a letter at the house where the body was found?’
‘You mean a suicide note?’
‘No, some kind of threat?’
‘I didn’t hear anything about that. Why, what else do you have?’
‘Nothing yet.’
Oli knows Dawn is annoyed because she does the laboured breathing that TJ always imitates when he’s recounting his interactions with her. ‘Just make sure you get aggressive out there. If you need to kick down some doors to get something new, then fucking kick them down.’
‘It’s not easy,’ Oli says feebly. ‘My contacts are all old.’
‘Well, get some new ones,’ Dawn grunts. ‘And I want an update on the new plan for the podcast as soon as possible. We’re trying to secure an advertiser, and they want an overview of the first episode before they sign.’
After Dawn hangs up, Oli closes her eyes, leaning back into the park bench. Advertisers are not an audience she typically needs to worry about.
Without warning, she thinks about all the boxes in Isabelle’s room. She can understand Dean wanting to keep some memorabilia for the girls, but it’s really getting to her that he has barely got rid of any of his dead wife’s things.
