The Long Island Iced Tea Goodbye

by Emily Selby

  She pulled James' number and texted him.

  "Shooter in the house."

  She curled up, praying that the cat didn't die, or try to get out with a lot of noise.

  And then she heard it ... footsteps coming from the front door.

  Two steps followed by silence.

  Cold sweat was rolling down her back in streams.

  He knew she was inside. He had a gun. How many bullets were left?

  What if she made him lose some more?

  Heather grabbed one of the jars and rolled in across the floor, towards the entrance hall.

  The jar skittered on the uneven floor.

  The floor that needed fixing–a blessing in disguise!

  Another shot. The jar shattered.

  Another step, this one moving towards the kitchen.

  We're going to die...

  Her head was humming. The cat was immobile against her chest, but she could feel his little heartbeat racing.

  Three bullets fired, but how many more were left in the gun?

  Another jar?

  The shooter probably wouldn’t fall for it.

  Heather gulped. Her throat hurt.

  A phone call?

  The landline phone was in the hallway. This might distract him from the kitchen.

  Heather fumbled with her cell phone, found the café’s number and pressed the call button.

  After the longest three seconds in her life, the ringing of a phone cut through the silence.

  A shot followed. And then, a curse. A man’s voice.

  Heather closed her eyes and started saying prayers in her mind.

  She'd have sworn she could hear someone breathing heavily a few steps away from her.

  "Liam Barry, hands up," James' voice echoed in the hallway. "Drop the gun. I've got an armed Offenders Squad surrounding the house."

  Heather's head hit the back shelf.

  They were saved.

  14

  The rest of the incident passed in a blur. It happened so quickly, Heather wasn't sure what was real, and what she'd imagined.

  James was her superhero. Standing in the doorway, tall and broad, strong and protective... her heart went into another flipping fit, but for an entirely different reason.

  She couldn't remember how she crawled out from under the worktop, but she must have.

  Ah, and the cat jumped out of her tight embrace the moment the little darling knew he was safe.

  Thank goodness the cat survived. And thank goodness for the cat, which actually saved her life.

  Well, first - the cat, and then, obviously, James.

  Once Liam had been taken away, James beckoned her.

  "You need to come with us. You'd better take a sandwich or something with you. We could be a while."

  Heather grabbed a piece of baguette and made two cheese sandwiches.

  "I'm not hungry right now, but I guess, once the adrenaline has cleared my system, I'll be starving again," she said, shoving the wrapped sandwiches into her handbag. "I've got one for you, too."

  "Thanks," he grinned. "You're coming with me, right?"

  "Yes, and you can tell me what happened while you were out at your car. But hold it a second."

  She grabbed the picture from under the worktop where she had left it and slipped it into her handbag.

  "Ready."

  "First I need to scold you for not listening to me and going into the house. He could have killed you!" James' eyes darkened as she spoke the words.

  Heather rolled her shoulders. They were aching from all that cat holding.

  "Yeah, but then, If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't have caught him."

  He twisted his mouth sideways.

  "Maybe..." he said slowly.

  "He might have gone upstairs and stolen the photo," Heather added, feeling a hot wave spilling onto her neck and her cheeks.

  "The photo?" he asked, rising his eyebrows. "So, you've found it?"

  "Didn't you hear me? I was shouting to you."

  "No, I was outside, patrolling the perimeter."

  "Why?"

  "Because I had a gut feeling he might be there. I also rang the office to ask how many bullets he might have had in his gun," he admitted, starting the car.

  "You knew he had a gun?" Heather's voice broke into a shrill. She paused and cleared her throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I didn't know he was carrying. It wasn't until we were on the deck, I thought I'd heard something. So, I went back to the car to make the call. I didn't want to scare you or let him know I suspected him of killing Maree and poisoning Josephine. I think he was hiding in the sleep-out."

  "Climbed in by the window again, letting the cat in?"

  "Seems that way."

  They drove out of the car park and onto the road, following the van with Liam inside.

  "What made you suspect Liam?" Heather asked.

  "Head office suspected him for a few months. That's why I was asked to keep a discreet eye on him."

  "I thought you worked for a criminal investigation unit, back in the UK?"

  "I did. But I happened to be the only available person in the area and could do it without arousing suspicion."

  "Okay, but how does it connect to Josephine's poisoning?"

  James laughed.

  "There are certainly some dots that need to be connected. Maybe you can do it for me," he said, flashing the charming smile.

  Heather ignored a bunch of butterflies fluttering in her chest.

  "Let me try," she said and pulled the picture from the handbag. "I think the person on the beach in this photo is Liam, with his druggie cronies. Maree must have seen him working with them, and after many arguments with Josephine, she snapped the photo as a proof. But I've no idea what the guys in the photo are doing in the middle of the night on the beach."

  "I can tell you that," he replied, turning onto the main road and heading toward the city. "They're unloading an overnight delivery."

  "An overnight delivery?" she asked, rattling her brain. "Drugs?"

  "Yes, smuggled in, delivered by small boats and kept hidden on the beach."

  "The pile of rocks?"

  "Yep," he replied nodding.

  "Why did it disappear?"

  "I guess that was when Liam became aware that Josephine didn't die, and he couldn't find the photo. I imagine he forced his gang to remove all the evidence."

  "So, he tried to kill Josephine?"

  "I'll need more evidence and I'm keen to hear what he says, but my suspicion is that he was there on that evening, probably hiding in the hedge between the café and Archers' B&B."

  Heather bit her lip.

  "That hedge is thick and needs trimming, certainly from the café side. One of the many things mentioned by Josephine that needed urgent attention.”

  "Do you think Josephine mentioned something to him, about suspecting him?"

  "She might well have dropped a hint. Or simply her asking about his entourage might have sounded some alarm bells for him."

  "But why was he doing it? This is criminal activity and as a policeman..."

  James nodded. A deep line appeared on his forehead.

  "Most police officers are good people, but there are the occasional bad apples. Liam is a local lad. Probably a good one. Certainly, a good friend. Maybe, at first, he was trying to talk his childhood friends out of the smuggling. But it's hard when you live in a small community. Maybe there was some peer pressure. Maybe some blackmail. Maybe he needed money..."

  Heather mulled the suggestions over.

  "But once you start it's hard to untangle yourself. Because then people may start threatening that if you don't do this, they will disclose that."

  "Exactly."

  "So, who fiddled with Maree's brake links? Or was it really an unfortunate accident?" she asked after a pause.

  James winced. "That's a case we need to reopen and investigate again. Judging from what I've got from Josephine, there is a suspicion Liam mishandled the
investigation. Which is what triggered the doubts in the first place. A senior officer in the Whangarei office suspected that the investigation was closed a little too promptly. But everything seemed to have been done by the book."

  "Just like what he did when he arrived at the café the other morning," Heather observed.

  "Indeed. By the way, it was smart. He left his police car, which has a tracker, at home. I suspect he used his bicycle throughout the night, until the morning faked call from Josephine."

  "Faked? But you said it had been verified."

  James shrugged. "There's nothing simpler than placing a silent call from her phone to his while she was fast asleep."

  "He was quite confident she would stay asleep," Heather said and paused. "Hang on, did he give her a sleeping pill?"

  "That's a hypothesis. Fancy taking a guess as to how it happened?"

  Of course, she did.

  "I love a good mystery," she said. "I'm reading one right now. The Long Goodbye, by Chandler. There is a note with a fake confession of a murder in there, too. This actually prompted my doubts concerning the note. But ... never mind. Let me think..." she paused again, running various scenarios through her head.

  "Did he add a sleeping pill into her drink?"

  "That's my hypothesis. The group of medication used in sleeping pills was detected in her system, but these tests are not always accurate, and it might have been something else she'd taken."

  "What about the morphine. When did he add it?"

  "To her drink or to her system?" he asked, adding a playful smile.

  "Ah, you're suggesting something? No!" She raised her hand to stop him from telling her. "Let me do it myself. Did he give it to her when he arrived there in the morning? Would it have had enough time to work?"

  "No, I suspect he gave it to her intravenously, in an injection. That's why it kicked in almost immediately. He then left the room by the window." James paused.

  "Of course. The cat! I should have guessed earlier. The cat was downstairs shortly after midnight. That is when Liam must have tried to get in there for the first time."

  "Yes, and I think you scared him. So, he returned later that morning."

  "The little kitty has really helped here. I'm keeping him. And, by the way, he saved my life."

  "How come?"

  Heather told him how the first bullet had missed because she'd tripped over the scared cat.

  "Speaking of tripping and all sort of other strange things. It was Liam who kept breaking into the house to search for the picture, wasn't it?"

  "I guess so. He must have grown restless with your arrival and thought it was a good opportunity. Josephine rarely leaves the house, but with your presence there would have been more distraction."

  Heather minced an expletive under her breath.

  "He's an awful person."

  "Liam?" James asked. "I think he's more of an opportunist, with a weak backbone, who just got in with the wrong crowd and couldn't resist the temptation."

  "But he's going to jail, right?"

  "That's up to the court, but I've arrested him for the attempt on you, suspicion of poisoning, and I have no doubt there'll be more charges coming from the IPCA."

  Heather let out a breath. Her head dropped back, onto the soft head restraint. She looked at the lights of the city growing in the distance as they approached.

  "What a mess," she said "And this was meant to be a quiet life."

  * * *

  The following morning, just before 11 am, Heather, caffeinated and public-place-ready, was waiting downstairs. She'd even applied some makeup!

  The previous night, after a short and to-the-point interview at the local police station, she had been dropped off home by a patrol car, but James promised to call as soon as possible. He was due any minute now. And even though, the main purpose of his visit was to fill in any missing details in her statement and to collect Josephine from hospital, she was looking forward to his appearance.

  Of course, she was happy to learn of Josephine being well enough to return home, and to help the police with the investigation. But most importantly, she was also hoping for a pleasant drive, if not lunch in James' company.

  Footsteps echoed on the wooden flood outside and Heather rose to her feet.

  "Come in," she called the moment she heard the knocking. The door opened.

  James' smiling face appeared in the gap. "Hi, Heather."

  "Morning, Detective Matthews," she greeted him with a grin. "I'm ready." She waved her handbag.

  "Sorry," he said, furrowing his forehead. "Change of plans," he added and opened the door wider. "I went to the hospital to check if it was okay to collect Josephine today. And once she saw me, she wouldn't let me go, until I promised to take her home immediately," he explained and moved aside.

  His car was parked under the trees. There was a person in the passenger seat.

  "I would have brought her in, but she insists we go out for brunch, or lunch. All together," he added.

  Heather smiled, ignoring the pang of disappointment growing in her chest. No doubt there would be plenty of opportunities in the future, and as long as she could get some answers to her questions, she'd be fine.

  So, they went out.

  As they arrived at a fish and chip shop in the harbor, the sun was shining again, after a heavy shower. The little garden by the landing was so inviting, even Josephine didn't mind sitting outside. So once James adjusted the big umbrella so that they were properly shielded from the next bout of rain, the three of them settled into the chairs.

  "I'm sorry about your nephew," James said.

  "Nothing to be sorry about," Josephine replied. "He deserves everything coming to him. He was always a bit too cunning. It was only a matter of time before he took the wrong turning on his career path, so to speak."

  Heather didn't want to miss the opportunity to gather more information.

  "Has he admitted to poisoning Josephine?"

  "He has," James replied. "He injected her with an intravenous form of the drug just before you saw him outside."

  "That was quite fortunate, me discovering what happened wasn't it?" Heather asked, glancing at Josephine.

  "Given the circumstances, it definitely helped getting Josephine to hospital faster. I suppose he was going to wait a little longer before faking his arrival. But you forced his hand."

  Heather nodded.

  "I guess he had access to the drugs from whatever illegal sources and connections he has?" Heather asked.

  "I bet you," Josephine grumbled.

  "But," James said rising his finger. "Liam insists he didn't want to kill you, but just get you out of the house for a while."

  "To search for the photo?" Heather asked.

  "Supposedly," James replied.

  Josephine huffed. "I may be biased, but I wouldn't trust a single word that boy says."

  "Understandably," Heather said. "After all, regardless of his intentions he could have killed you. And he was responsible for killing Maree."

  "He denies having any incentive in seeing his Aunt Josie dead," James supplied.

  "Of course, he didn't" Josephine snapped. "I've given everything to Anna, and I'm planning to spend some of the money from the café on travelling."

  "You so should," Heather cut in eagerly and felt her cheeks burn. "I mean, travelling is a great idea and you deserve a nice break."

  She really needed to fix the filter on her thoughts.

  James arched an eyebrow glancing at her but didn't make any comment.

  "What about the brakes in Maree's car? Did he do it? Or was it one of his pothead mates?" Josephine asked.

  "Knowing Liam a little, I'd be surprised if he did it himself. He might have asked or even suggested it to one of his..." James paused to clear his throat. "Friends of questionable reputation."

  "Who never missed a chance of using that as blackmail ever since?" Heather chimed in.

  James nodded. "That is a very likely scenario."

>   "Did he send any of them to break in, or was it him in person?" Heather carried on with her loose ends.

  "It was him," James replied. "Cleverly wearing gloves and easily removable jandals—"

  "Jandals?" Heather interrupted. "Don’t you mean sandals?"

  "Sorry, Heather. You'd know them as thongs or flip-flops. Anyway Liam wore gloves and jandals while inside the sleep-in, but he left some partial fingerprints on the windowsill. They were left in a position clearly suggesting he must have climbed through it."

  "And the photo on the beach?" Heather asked.

  "We've enlarged it, and this is going to be a key piece of evidence in the investigation. Because you can see it's Liam. Clearly. Thank you for finding it, Heather," James said.

  "Thank you to Josephine for telling us about it, despite her doubts and despite the family ties," Heather said.

  "You're right. Thanks!" James reached out and squeezed the older woman's hand.

  "I wished I'd believed Maree earlier. She'd probably still be alive," Josephine said and turned her face away. Tears brimmed in her grey eyes.

  "But would anyone have believed her?" Heather asked. "Who would have listened to her? And James was still in the UK at the time, weren't you?"

  Heather glanced at James. He nodded. His expression serious.

  "I know it sounds awful, but this case needed a good alignment of the right time and the right people."

  Josephine blew out through her nose.

  "I suppose you're both right. I don't think I would have discovered how deeply Liam was involved with the drug smuggling without Maree's accident. It triggered him off."

  The server called their order and James got up to collect it.

  They sat in silence for a while, munching on the food. The chips were excellent, crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, and the fish was deliciously fresh. Heather sat back and took a deep breath. The harbor waters shimmered. The boats were clinking in the distance, and the air was filled with salty scents of the sea and wet sand.

  "Now, I feel like I'm home," Heather said. "Although, there is one thing I'd love to have right now."

  "What is it?" James asked.

  "A glass of a new cocktail. Something to celebrate my new life here, in Dolphin Cove, in the Bay of Islands. And served in our new café."