Her gaze zeroed in on the pencil hovering over the paper as if accusing it of her brother’s death. ‘Why?’
‘It might help.’
‘Help who?’
He swallowed. ‘Us. To figure out what happened. Why Peter was… where he was. Did he ask you to come back here?’
‘No.’ She shook her head, throat working, mouth tight. ‘He asked for my help.’ Devastation filled her eyes. ‘If I’d got here faster, he would still be alive.’
‘Don’t do that to yourself. There was nothing you could have done. It was an accident by the look of things.’
‘An accident?’
‘Yes.’
Her eyes clouded with something painful. ‘A car accident?’
Shit. Of course she’d think that. ‘No.’ He reached out and touched her hand again, trying to get her attention back on him. ‘The text?’
She nodded slowly, swallowed hard. ‘He texted me asking for money.’ She shook her head. ‘But he couldn’t have been having money problems. Mabel was loaded and he had access to her accounts—he was her accountant and financial planner. At least, that’s what he told me.’ Her frown deepened. ‘If he’d sold Hanson House and the property, then there should have been even more money.’ Her fingers curled into her hands, making the handcuffs jingle. ‘I thought he was having a joke with me about needing money. I texted him back telling him I didn’t get the joke and I wasn’t amused.’
He almost smiled. She’d never been good with jokes. ‘You didn’t think he was being serious?’
‘With my family’s fiscally sound background? No. But then I got another text a few days ago, saying he was serious. He needed a hundred grand ASAP for something important. I texted him back, but he didn’t respond. I called him, but only got his messages. It was then I realised he was being serious and needed my help. Given he wasn’t answering any of my attempts to contact him, the only thing I could do was come up here and find out what was going on.’
For a moment, he thought she was going to drop her head into her hands and give in to a bout of tears, but her eyes became emotionless, like she’d shut herself off behind a wall. ‘I should have just sent him the money. I should have known he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need it. This is my fault. My fault.’ Despite the cold look on her face, her voice wavered.
He went to reach out to touch her again, to comfort her, the instinct so strong, but she jerked back as far as the handcuffs would allow.
‘What are you doing? Why do you keep touching me?’
‘I’m just trying to comfort you.’
‘Why?’
‘To show you I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Oh.’
She looked so bewildered. His heart ached for her despite the anger he still carried. ‘What can I do?’
She nodded briefly and looked down at her hands. ‘Can you take these off? And get my backpack. Your dad took it. I have something sticky on my nose and I’d like to wipe it off.’
‘O...kay. Let me get the key.’ His father should never have arrested her in the first place. She hadn’t been breaking and entering. She’d just been going home. After all these years. And now this. He had to get those cuffs off her ASAP. He stuck his head out the door and waved Constable Leila Mayne over. ‘Can you fetch the keys for the handcuffs from the Sarge and get Ms Hanson’s backpack out of the evidence lock-up for me? She’s just had an upset and I don’t want to leave her alone.’ She nodded and headed off. He took a deep breath and walked back into the room.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘But if you’re busy, you can go. I’m fine.’
He didn’t answer, simply sat back down. Silence rose between them. He began to tap the manila folder, wishing he’d opened it and had a look before coming in here. But the moment he’d heard, he’d just had to come inside and see her.
‘What’s that? Is it the report on my brother?’
He frowned and looked down at the report, the edges of the folder now curled up where he’d been playing with it. ‘We don’t have a file for your brother yet. This is your file.’
‘I want to see the autopsy report when you get it.’
‘What?’
‘I want to see the files on the investigation. I want to see what you’re doing to figure out who murdered my brother.’
‘There’s no evidence your brother was murdered.’
‘Of course there is. He texted me he needed money and now he’s dead.’
His frown deepened. ‘That isn’t proof of murder.’
‘Proof? No, it’s not proof. But alongside the other evidence it suggests my brother’s death wasn’t an accident.’
Despite the tone of reasoned practicality in her voice, he knew her well enough to know it was the grief and the guilt talking. He’d seen it plenty of times—people trying desperately to find a reason other than ‘just because’ for the death of a loved one. It was much easier to point the finger and place blame on a human than to shriek up to the heavens asking why and never getting back an answer. But because it was Erika, because he felt sorry for her, because he’d always admired how Peter had given up his career to look after Mabel when things got dicey, he decided to play along with her and let her reason her way through it herself. ‘Evidence? What other evidence?’
‘You said he died in a fire.’ He nodded. ‘Peter didn’t smoke, so he couldn’t have set himself alight in bed. You said he was living at the Echo Springs Hotel, so it couldn’t have been a kitchen fire or others would have been involved too. If he’d been at work, there might have been an electrical fault, but unless he had been knocked unconscious or there was a sudden explosion, he would have been able to get himself out in time after the smoke alarms went off. So, that means he must have been knocked unconscious or there was an explosion, which points to foul play, even if you don’t take into account the texts I got from him about suddenly needing all that money.’
‘He wasn’t at work. But there was an explosion.’
Her gaze drilled into his, the golden flecks in the hazel suddenly more apparent. ‘An explosion? Then why on earth aren’t you looking at this as a homicide?’
‘Because nobody else was involved in the explosion. Just Peter and Tyler Montgomery.’
She blinked rapidly for a moment, her mouth working. ‘Tyler Montgomery? Was he killed as well?’
‘Yes.’
‘But…’ She blinked again—it was like she was computing something, seeing things with that remarkable brain of hers that nobody else could see. It could speed through information in a way that was virtually inhuman, but it had also caused more problems than it helped. Particularly in this town, where nobody was prepared to be called to account by a rambunctious youngster who made everyone around her feel stupid. So he shouldn’t have been surprised when she said, ‘Are you saying that Peter was involved in a gang?’
He looked for a way to stall. ‘How did you come up with that conclusion?’
‘I may have been gone for sixteen years, but some things around here don’t change. Tyler’s family has always been involved in the shadier side of things. Mabel hated that Peter was friends with him when we were at school, but she could never make him drop Tyler. Peter always said, “He isn’t his father”, and Mabel would say, “The apple never falls far from the tree”, and Peter would say, “But that doesn’t mean that apple is rotten at the core”.’ She smiled softly, her eyes losing that piercing clarity.
‘Peter was more open minded than most.’
Her gaze came back to him, lips curled in a small, sad smile, and he thought she was going to say more, but all she said was, ‘Yes.’
Then, as her gaze stayed on his, the mistiness cleared and he was being assessed again with that intelligence that had once been everything in the world to him. Nobody looked at a person like Erika Hanson. He missed it. He cleared his throat, unnerved by the thought. ‘Tyler was involved in his family business.’
‘Drugs.’
‘Yes. We think they we
re starting up a new meth lab and because of Peter’s chemistry background, Tyler roped him in.’
Her frown deepened. ‘Peter is an accountant now. He said he’d never do any chemistry ever again when he came back here.’
It seemed she was just as mystified as everyone in town had been when Peter gave up his PhD in biochemical engineering to come back and become an accountant. The mystery had deepened when it got out that he’d been offered a contract at one of the most respected infenctious diseases labs in Australasia. But because of the middle-of-the-night phone complaints and call-outs to disturbances around town, he and a few of the other police officers knew exactly why Peter had come back home.
He’d come back to look after their grandmother, Mabel Hanson.
Why hadn’t he told Erika about it though?
Sympathy stirred in his gut. No. He didn’t want to soften toward this woman. Not after she’d left here so abruptly, leaving him with a broken heart and in so much trouble he’d been grounded for a year. He’d vowed to forget her and he had mostly managed until—
‘Why would Peter have got involved in a meth lab?’
Her question made him start out of his reverie. He jumped, knocking the manila folder off the table, the contents spilling out onto the floor. The chair legs squealed noisily as he pushed it back and bent to pick up the papers that had spilled out of the file. Words jumped off the page as he fumbled them back into the folder—coroner, forensic pathologist, Melbourne, medical degree—but he didn’t really register any of them because Erika was pummelling him with questions in a way that was far too familiar and far too intuitive. Shit, her mind moved fast. His mind was reeling in the same way it had when they’d been children and she’d managed to both scare the crap out of him with how far beyond him she was, and make him want her all at the same time.
It seemed nothing had changed despite all his vows to the contrary.
He dropped the folder on the table and put his hands up. ‘Whoa. Just hold up there. Mere mortals like me need time to process information, so just slow down.’
Her lips twisted, but not in a smile. No, her expression was far more complicated than that, just like the rest of her. ‘Sorry. I’m upset.’
‘I know.’
‘And confused.’ Which explained a lot. Erika never liked being confused about anything. Especially when emotions were involved.
‘That’s to be expected,’ he said softly.
Her lips pressed together. ‘Is it? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had a brother die before.’
He almost wanted to laugh at that, but this wasn’t funny. ‘You lost your parents.’ He was one of the only people who could mention that, because he’d lost his mum around the same time. It’s what they’d bonded over, that shared loss. ‘This must be similar.’
‘No.’ She moved her head in a way that made him think of a curious puppy. ‘I was there. I saw them die. It was senseless, but there was a reason. This…’ She waved her hand. ‘Peter being dead. There’s too many questions. Too many confusing parts of the story. All the bits don’t add up.’
‘Sometimes life is like that, Erika. It’s not a puzzle that can always be solved.’
‘But you’re a policeman.’
Now it was his turn to frown in puzzlement. ‘What does that have to do with any of this?’
‘It’s your job to solve the puzzles, to bring order out of chaos. So why aren’t you wanting to solve this?’
He lifted his hands off the table a little. ‘Because there’s nothing to solve, Erika. Peter was cooking meth with Tyler. You said yourself Peter had money problems. He probably thought this was a quick way to solve them. Help his friend make some drugs and pay off his debts in one go. Unfortunately, something went wrong with his chemistry and he blew Tyler and himself up.’
The cuffs rattled as she lifted her hands a little, pointing at him. ‘Peter wouldn’t have made a chemistry mistake.’
Before he could comment on that there was a knock on the door. ‘Yes?’ he called out.
Constable Mayne walked in, Erika’s backpack in her hand. ‘I’m sorry, sir. But your fath…Sergeant Cooper has left the building and isn’t responding to his radio. He has the keys to the cuffs on him and Constable Fields hasn’t been able to find any of the spare keys.’
‘That’s because the sergeant probably has them with him,’ Erika said matter-of-factly.
‘Why would he do that?’ the constable asked.
‘Payback.’
Chapter Three
Hartley growled. Erika was right. He loved his father, but he could be a stubborn old bastard when he chose to be. Obviously the file he’d brought in with him and failed to look at had proved her story true, but his father didn’t want to let her go so quickly. This was his way of teaching Erika Hanson a lesson and paying her back in some small way for what she’d done to Hartley when she’d left all those years ago. They had no reason to keep her here.
He growled. If his father was here, he’d strangle him. ‘Constable, call the sergeant again and tell him to get his arse back here. We have no reason to keep Ms Hanson a moment longer. If he doesn’t answer the radio, tell him that I’m sure he won’t like the paperwork he’ll have to fill out and file if Ms Hanson decides to sue us for wrongful imprisonment.’
‘But if he doesn’t answer the radio, how can I tell him that?’
‘Because, if I know the sergeant,’ and he did, ‘he will be sitting beside his radio waiting for a call-out. He’ll hear.’
‘Okay, sir.’ She turned to leave, but hesitated, turned back. ‘Wouldn’t it be simpler to let Ms Hanson out of the cuffs?’
‘Obviously it would, Constable, except we don’t have the keys.’
She cleared her throat, her face going a little pink, her gaze meeting his shoes. ‘I might be able to undo them.’
‘Constable? Do you have a set of keys?’
Her gaze flew back up to his. ‘No sir. I would never copy a set of handcuff keys. It’s against regulations.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘But…’ a little pause as she cleared her throat. She reached up and took a pin out of her tight bun. ‘I could use this to undo the cuffs.’
‘You know how to undo the cuffs with a hairpin?’
The pink in her cheeks deepened to sunset red, but this time she met his surprised gaze. ‘Yes. My ex taught me.’
‘TMI, Constable,’ he said, hands raising.
‘Sorry, sir. But you did ask.’ Her cheeks now flamed so brightly she could heat the room.
‘Yes, I did. More fool me.’ He stepped back, waving toward Erika and the cuffs. ‘Let’s see this unexpected skill of yours.’
Constable Mayne stepped briskly across the room, back ramrod straight, her air one of crisp professionalism. She dropped the backpack on the floor next to Erika and inserted the pin into the cuff, her brow set into a line of concentration, tongue poking out a little between her lips as she jiggled it. There was a click and one cuff slid open. She did the same with the other until there was another click and Erika was free. ‘There,’ she said, stepping back as she jabbed the pin back into her still slick bun, an air of supreme satisfaction surrounding her. Hartley couldn’t help but smile. She was still so green, not long out of the academy and an absolute stickler for the rules, more so than he’d ever been. Possibly had to do with her family background and wanting to prove something. Despite all that, she’d just opened a set of handcuffs with a hairpin, a dubious trick probably learned from her ex, Hayden Terrence, and despite the embarrassment of the situation—he tried not to think about all the reasons there could possibly be for Hayden to have taught her that trick—he could see she was proud of herself. Erika wasn’t the only one good at surprising people.
‘Thank you,’ Erika said, giving the constable a brief smile while rubbing her wrists. ‘I must remember that trick.’
And she bloody well would too, Hartley thought. Although, why she’d have to know how to get herself out of handcuffs again w
as beyond his ability to imagine. At least, he hoped it was beyond his ability. Maybe she had a boyfriend like the constable’s ex. An icy sensation prickled down his spine at the thought, but he shoved it away. What she did in her private life was none of his business. ‘Thank you, Constable. That will be all.’
‘Yes sir.’
Mayne nodded and left the room.
There was an uncomfortable silence as they stared at each other. She was the first to break the moment when she grabbed her backpack, rifling through it quickly to pull out some wipes and using one on her face. Once done, she folded the wipe up into a neat square, put it in a plastic bag and placed everything back in her pack. Then she stood, straight as a pin, and met his gaze. ‘If you could show me the case file on my brother’s alleged death, then I can help you work out what happened.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘I have a degree in forensic pathology, with PhD in forensic anthropology and a secondary degree in forensic science. I work with the coronial office in Melbourne as well as the police, so this is what I do. I can help.’
Words his eyes had skimmed over when he’d knocked the file to the floor came back to him now.
Well. Hell.
A wash of pride filled him at what she’d accomplished. Which was stupid. She’d turned her life around and it had nothing to do with him. And yet, he couldn’t stop his lips from spreading into a stupid grin. He shouldn’t have been so surprised that she’d surprised him. She had always surprised him. It was one of the things that had always been so addictive about friendship with her—she was constantly knocking his feet from under him in one way or another.
‘What are you staring at?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Okay.’ Erika picked her backpack up, slung it over her shoulder and stared at him. He stared blankly back.
‘The file?’
‘You know I can’t give that to you.’ Hartley picked the folder up off the table and gestured to the door. ‘You’re free to go.’
Dangerous Echoes Page 2
