Note Before Dying (Ghostwriter Mystery 6)

by Larmer, C. A.

  “So you didn’t know she was having an affair with Jed?’

  He snickered. “Man, if I was to keep up with every affair Jed had, I’d have no time for surfing.”

  “He was prolific, was he?”

  He shrugged but said nothing.

  Gilda needed to get this straight. “Did you know anything about the photos that Macker Maroney took of Sunny and Jed together before she died?”

  He stared at her blankly and shook his head.

  She was not sure if she believed him. “What about Asha Kidlong?”

  “Who?”

  “The local mayor’s daughter. We suspect Jed was seeing her before he was killed.”

  He shrugged again. “As I say, hard to keep up.”

  “Did you have any problem with him sleeping around like that?” Roxy asked.

  “Why should I? It’s his biz.”

  “What about his wife?”

  He laughed. “Annika. She can’t talk.”

  Gilda sat forward. “Mrs. Moody was unfaithful too?”

  It was the first flicker of trepidation that crossed his face, the first time he looked like he had strayed into uncomfortable territory. He promptly backpedalled. “Oh, I don’t know anything about that.” He clamped his lips shut.

  “What happens on the Moody property stays on the Moody property, eh?” Roxy said, and he just shrugged again.

  “So Jed never mentioned Sunny before she died?” Gilda persisted. “He never mentioned having trouble with a girl, maybe wanting out? Remember, we’re talking about eighteen months ago now.”

  He shook his head more slowly this time, and Gilda decided he had to be lying. She leaned forward. “Listen, if you’re trying to protect Jed, you’re wasting your time. He’s gone. I’m not interested in Jed’s affairs as such; I just want to find out what happened to that poor young girl. Sunny Forrest was only twenty-one, you know? She had her whole life ahead of her.”

  Doug swished his lips to one side and appeared to give this some thought. Eventually he said, “Look, it’s true, I kept out of Jed’s shit. That was his business, Houghton’s business, too. But I stayed right out of it. Didn’t wanna know.”

  “Houghton?”

  He sniggered. “It’s his job to protect us from ourselves.”

  “Buuuuut?” Gilda prodded.

  He hesitated. “But there was this one chick, right? I don’t know her name, could’ve been Sunny, I can’t say for sure. But she was persistent, man. I’ll give her that. She kept calling Jed on his mobile, over and over. It’d been happening for, I dunno, months.”

  “One month? Ten months?” Gilda said.

  “More like ten, maybe longer. Well before Sunny showed up dead, I know that much. Drove Jed freakin’ nuts. You know, we’re in the middle of recording, he’d get this text, suddenly he’d have to run off for an hour.”

  “Could it have been Annika?”

  “Nah. She knew better than to interrupt Jed during a recording session. Besides, we’d have to keep playing while he was gone, so Annie would think he was still workin’ away, when really...” He smiled at the thought of what Jed was getting up to.

  “Did he meet this person in the hutch, near the creek? Do you know?”

  “Dunno. S’pose he could’ve. He always took off out that back door of the studio. It leads to the creek. I didn’t ask, didn’t care.”

  “How do you know it was a woman he was seeing?”

  “What, you saying he was gay?” He chuckled heartily at this. When Gilda didn’t chuckle along, he said, “Saw one of the texts once.”

  “And what did the text say?” God, it was like pulling teeth!

  “Can’t really remember. Just know he’d got a message, started swearing, threw the phone down and stormed out. I looked at the screen. I can’t even remember the message to be honest, some shit like, ‘I need to see you NOW’ or something. But, you know, it had all that kisses and hugs crap at the bottom. Had to be a chick.”

  “Do you know if Jed happened to get one of these messages the day Sunny died? Were you in the studio working that day?”

  She told him the date and he tried to remember back but failed. “There’s no way these brain cells are gonna remember that shit, man. Waaay too long ago... I do know he’d been a bit moody around that time. I mean, the guy could be a dick at the best of times, but he was in a filthy mood after that chick was found dead by the creek. Then he went all kinda quiet.”

  “Quiet? How do you mean?”

  “Recorded less, spent more time with Annika. I thought maybe he’d seen the light and realised life was short. Or some shit like that.” He chuckled again.

  “More likely he was feeling guilty,” Gilda said to Roxy as they drove away from Doug’s beach shack and back towards the hinterland. “Whatever happened to Sunny, Jed must have felt partly to blame. She was obviously there to meet him when it happened.”

  “Yes, but here’s the thing,” said Roxy. “That can’t have been Sunny texting Jed every hour in the studio for ten months.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for starters, Sunny and Jed only met each other about six weeks or so before she died. At least, that’s what Sam says. He introduced them, after all. Plus, Sam told me his sister was ‘pure as snow’. She only ate organic, never watched TV etcetera, etcetera.”

  “So?”

  “So, she didn’t own a mobile phone. Believed they gave you brain cancer. If that’s true, there’s no way she was calling and texting Jed every hour for almost a year. Nope, whoever was harassing Jed with those texts, whoever he was sneaking out to see behind the studio, I don’t reckon it was Sunny Forrest.”

  Gilda groaned aloud. “So who the hell was it?”

  “Asha Kidlong?”

  “We’re talking over two years ago! She would’ve been about fifteen then, surely not!” She shuddered at the thought. “Still, I have to wonder how long they’ve known each other, Jed and Asha. I should check that.”

  “Maybe Asha killed Sunny, to clear the way?” Roxy blurted, clicking her fingers with the excitement of a whole new suspect. “Then she killed Jed because he refused to leave his wife.”

  Gilda gave her a sidelong stare. “A teenage girl who wears candy necklaces and shows up to gigs with daddy dear is going to drown a grown woman in a creek, let alone know how to electrocute someone?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Roxy muttered. “Straws, straws, straws.”

  “Come on,” said Gilda, trying to cheer her up. “Let’s head back to the café. There’s a certain creek I’d like to take a closer look at.”

  Chapter 31

  Govinda didn’t appear to be working when the two women pulled their car into the lot at the Goddess Café, but they did find Hans at the back of the shop, this time doing inventory. He placed his clipboard aside when he saw them and made his way to the espresso machine, automatically assuming coffees were in order.

  “No thanks,” Gilda told him. “I’m all coffeed out.”

  Roxy was, too, but her eagerness to question the man won out so she ordered her usual then watched as he set about making it. Casually, she said, “So, I hear you do some cooking, up at Moody Views.”

  He glanced up at her quickly then back to the machine. “That’s right.”

  “Did I see you there this morning? Thought I might have.”

  He didn’t look at her this time. “Yeah, I was there.” His voice sounded a little stiff, but then she might just have been reading into that.

  “So Annika’s still going to keep you on, even though Jed’s gone?”

  He looked at her properly this time and something passed behind his eyes, but she could not read it. He slowly shrugged. “Not sure yet.” His lips softened into a smile. “She’s got a soft spot for my cooking so, maybe ... who knows?” He nodded his head towards the food display at the front of the shop. “Particularly likes my corn frittatas, her special favourite. You should try one.”

  Roxy declined but Gilda’s eyes lit up. “I’ll go for o
ne of those lovely brownies. They look delish.”

  His smile widened, revealing missing molars up the back of his mouth. “Gluten free, is that okay? You eat gluten free?” He looked dubious.

  “I eat anything as long as it’s got chocolate in it.”`

  “Grab one and I’ll bring the coffee out.”

  Gilda chose the largest brownie she could see, wrapped it in a serviette and followed Roxy outside to a shady table.

  As they took their seats, Roxy said, “What do you think about Hans?” She nodded her head back to the shop. “Bit dodgy?”

  Gilda shrugged. “Don’t know, but Annika’s right about one thing. The man sure can cook. This is delectable. Want some?” She held the brownie towards Roxy who quickly declined.

  “I’m saving myself for tonight, which reminds me, you’re invited too.” Gilda was already mid-mouthful, so simply raised her eyebrows in query. “Sam has invited us over to his place for a barbie, to thank us for looking after Lunar.”

  “Can’t he just give us a bottle of wine like ordinary people?” she said, chewing away. “Doesn’t need to drag us all the way out there again, does he? I’m not trying to be a killjoy or anything...”

  “But?”

  “But he is still a suspect in Jed’s murder. Might be smarter just to keep your distance until we know what’s what.”

  Roxy felt a wave of anger wash over her. “Are you worried I’m going to end up dead, or in his bed?” Before she could answer, Roxy added, “Because, quite frankly, if it’s the latter then you’re getting ahead of yourself. It’s just dinner. That’s all there is to it. Come along and you’ll see for yourself.”

  Gilda was shaking her head now. “Wish I could, but I can’t. I’ve got a hot date myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Nah, not really. Our friendly Sydney detective wants to make up for last night. Take me to a decent restaurant this time.”

  “Really?” Roxy repeated, her eyes widening, and Gilda smiled.

  “Now who’s getting ahead of themselves? The man is married and I am simply going to compare notes and see how his investigation is going. Which is why you can’t come this time. He’ll be more candid without you around.”

  Before Roxy could respond, Hans was hovering over them with her coffee.

  As he placed it down, Gilda asked, “Is Govinda about?”

  He shook his head. “Not well today. Can I help you with something?”

  “Maybe.” She glanced around. “Is it true that the Wilson’s River goes through this land?”

  “Sure.” He pointed to the far end of the car park where the trees looked thick and impenetrable. “It’s more of a creek than a river. There’s a small swimming hole down past the Coolamons. It’s pretty rough, though. I can point you to some much better swimming spots.”

  “Not today, thanks. But if I did want a swim, could I access the creek quite easily?” He nodded warily. “Do you know if it leads through to the Moody property?”

  Again he seemed to hesitate. “The Moody property?” She nodded. “I don’t know, I can’t say for sure.” He diverted his eyes a little. “Why do you ask this?”

  “Oh, no reason, just curious.”

  She smiled disarmingly at him but it didn’t work. The man’s eyes narrowed as he slowly backed away and Roxy wondered about him again. She was getting a strange vibe from Hans, but she had done enough straw grasping for one day so let it drop as Gilda turned her gaze upon the distant Coolamon trees.

  “Now, if I was a good cop,” she said, “I’d be trudging over there, sussing out that creek access for myself.”

  Roxy turned in her seat and looked out towards the creek. “I’ll go along with you if you want. Haven’t had a decent walk today, would do me some good.”

  Gilda thought about it then shook her head. “Nah. I don’t think that’s going to get me anywhere, well, apart from up a muddy creek in my fabulous city boots, of course. Nah, if I want to find out more about those pictures Maroney has, I think I need to go straight to the source.”

  “Get the search warrant?”

  “Yep. Check out Maroney’s files and see what these incriminating photos are all about. Hopefully wipe the smug smile off his ugly face.”

  A polite cough caught their attention and they turned back to find Hans hovering again. This time he had a brown paper bag in his hands. “This is for you,” he told Roxy, holding it out.

  She looked at him curiously then slowly took the bag. Inside she found a steamy corn frittata. It smelled sweet and delicious.

  “You don’t need to eat it now,” he told her, his gaping smile widening, “but when you do, you will be in heaven!” He glanced at Gilda. “You want one, too?”

  She patted her belly where the brownie had now disappeared and smiled. “I’m already in heaven, thanks, Hans. Will be there in a second to pay the bill.”

  “No hurry. Stay as long as you like.”

  As Hans trotted off, stopping at various tables to clean away used cups and plates, they both watched him silently for a while. Gilda said, “I’m not so sure he’s such a bad guy, Roxy.”

  “Why? Because he tried to bribe us with free frittatas?”

  “God, no! I mean, if he’d offered me free chocolate, we’d be in business, but ... No, I just can’t see it, that’s all. Plus, again, there is the small matter of how a cook knows how to string up an electrical instrument to kill someone.”

  “We don’t know his background,” Roxy suggested, but Gilda was already shaking her head and staring at her watch.

  “No time to think about it now. I’ve got a handsome detective I need to pry for gossip.”

  “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  Gilda threw her scrunched up serviette at Roxy as they finished up.

  Chapter 32

  When Roxy pulled up in front of the old cottage, she spotted Sam standing off to the side of the property, just beyond the cottage kitchen. He was standing in front of what looked like a homemade brick barbeque, his wave getting lost in the plumes of smoke that billowed out from underneath a metal plate. She felt surprisingly pleased to see him and tried to dampen her smile a little as she grabbed the green bag that was sitting on the passenger seat beside her.

  This is just a social call, she told herself, a simple thank you dinner. That’s all.

  Stepping out of the car, Roxy remembered not to lock it this time and made her way across to the barbeque where Sam was jabbing at something with long silver tongs, an open beer in his other hand.

  Lunar came bouncing towards her, tongue hanging out and she reached down and gave the dog a pat, then held out the bag to Sam.

  “I come bearing gifts. I have a large tub of organic coleslaw and a corn frittata, courtesy of Hans, as well as some Nimbin cheese and crackers and two bottles of Merlot.”

  “Planning on getting sloshed, are we?”

  She laughed. “I’m replacing the one Gilda and I pilfered the other night.” She looked at the grill. “What is that?”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “Kangaroo meat, but don’t worry, it’s not road kill. I got it from the local butcher.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Ever tried it before?”

  “Yes I have, thank you very much. Kangaroo steaks are de rigueur in Sydney restaurants these days in case you hadn’t noticed. Just don’t tell the tourists.”

  “I know, they freak out, huh? They can’t believe we eat our own mascot! Little do they know, farmers hate the animals. Kangaroos can be a major pest out in these parts. Bit like the Moody Roos!” He chuckled softly at that. “You’re gonna love this. I’ve marinated it in red wine. Not Merlot though, you cleaned me out of that.”

  “Hence the extra bottle.” Roxy retorted.

  “There’s also garlic and rosemary in the marinade, and my own secret ingredient.”

  “Oh?” She asked.

  He nudged his eyebrows up. “A tip from my mother, but I can’t tell you. Family secret. The
Forrests would rather die than let it out.” He seemed to realise what he had said then and his smile dropped, his eyes looked away.

  “I’ll pop all this inside,” Roxy said, holding the bag up again.

  “Help yourself to a glass while you’re there. You know where the good crystal is.”

  She laughed as she made her way to the house. Once inside, she noticed that Sam had already set the table and placed a small bowl of wild flowers in the centre, a few mismatched candles around it. She felt a sliver of anticipation, followed quickly by a stab of caution.

  Just take it easy, Roxy. She told herself again. This isn’t a date.

  Yet the way the table had been decorated, the effort Sam had gone to with the meal, she couldn’t help feeling it was more than a simple barbecue.

  Back outside, mug of red wine in her hand, Roxy found Sam placing several cobs of fresh corn on one side of the grill, and she watched him work for a few minutes, sipping her wine and stroking Lunar’s head. She felt a wave of contentment wash over her. Here she was in the middle of a murder investigation, again, and she was strangely relaxed. It had to be the peaceful setting, she decided, the stillness and the serenity.

  “You cook much at home?” Sam asked, looking back at her through wisps of smoke.

  “Not as much as I should. I’ve got some good Indian and Thai restaurants around me. You get a bit lazy in the city.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s the thing about the country, nobody willing to deliver Laksa all the way out here. Closest eatery we’ve got is Govinda’s, and that’s no fun unless you’re a tofu-chomping vegan, of course.”

  “Hey, I’m expecting big things from that frittata.” She sipped her wine. “Everyone calls it Govinda’s rather than the Goddess Café. I gather she owns it, not Hans?”

  “Hans? Nah, he’s just the latest man in her life.”

  “Oh? They’re going out?”

  He nodded. “Been shacked up for a while now. So, yeah, Govinda’s dad set up the place years ago. Had a mechanics business first, saw the potential of people standing around waiting for their cars to be fixed, started a shop, then a café.”