Dave leaned back in his chair, stretching the telephone cord and pulling the phone towards him. ‘I heard today that Denning is heading to Adelaide to do a detective course.’
There was nothing but heavy breathing on the other end of the phone.
‘Steve?’
‘I heard. Yes, yes, I’d also heard that he’d been approached.’
‘Well, then,’ Dave said sarcastically. ‘Let’s hope the course teaches him something.’
‘The file has been sent back to you.’
‘Wait. Hold on.’ Dave straightened at his words. ‘Why did the file even leave the police station?’
‘Went with the body when it came down here for the autopsy. Should never have left. Instead it landed on my desk—came to me, because I’m the supervisor for your area. I’ve had a look through it and straightaway I could see there are problems with it.
‘I want you to go back through things. Start from the beginning. Re-interview the men who were on the ute that night, then follow up on that suicide—what was his name? Charles Forrest? Talk to the wife. And take Denning with you. See if you can give him some decent understanding of basic detective work before he gets down here. I’ve been through the electronic version of the file and it isn’t any different to the hard copy, which is a small blessing. At least that bit was done correctly.’
‘Not much point in taking Denning with me. He leaves at the end of this week.’ Dave’s mind was racing. It was unusual for Steve to be involved in something as minor as this. And why would Andy have let the file leave with the body? That was not on. The people running the detective course had their work cut out for them with Denning.
‘Right, well, I guess the training department will have a bit to teach him when he arrives in Adelaide.’
Dave ignored Steve’s last comment, because the bubble of excitement he always got during the initial stages of an investigation began to trickle through him. ‘Don’t worry, Boss,’ he said casually. ‘I’ll get right onto it.’
‘Good man. Hope all goes well on Thursday for you and Kim.’
Dave hung up and walked thoughtfully out to the front desk. ‘Joan, has a case file from Adelaide turned up for me?’ he asked.
‘Something came for you last week. I think Andy was going to put it on your desk.’
‘Right.’ He strode back into his office and went through the mail again. It wasn’t there. ‘Andy?’
‘They’ve gone already,’ Joan called from the front.
‘Bugger.’ He cast around, looking for something that looked out of place. On Andy’s desk he saw a yellow envelope under some books. When he lifted them he saw his own name and address on the front. Interesting. He pursed his lips.
Inspecting the seal, he noted it hadn’t been opened. He must’ve forgotten to put it on Dave’s desk. He riffled through the papers, piled high, looking for anything else that might have been missed, taking in the messy nature of it. A detective needed to be organised; he couldn’t keep an untidy desk or forget to do things. That was how notes, ideas and evidence got lost.
He took the envelope back to his office and shut the door behind him, needing quiet and full concentration.
First he looked at the photos, then he started to read the report. It didn’t take long to see Steve was right. No one thought this death was anything but an accident; it was just a disorganised and chaotic investigation on Andy and Jack’s behalf.
Disappointment and realisation coursed through him. That was what Steve wanted him to do. To clean up the sloppy work and make these two accountable. As he read on, it was clear that there was only one cop who really needed to be shown up, and that was Andy Denning.
Chapter 8
Driving through the front gate of Charona still gave Fiona chills. The few hours of freedom she’d had in Barker during last weekend had been precious, but coming home and seeing the familiar driveway and ramp made it hard to keep her foot on the accelerator.
The light was beginning to fade so she flicked on her headlights, just in case there were any kangaroos. Pulling up at the shed, she felt Meita’s wet nose on her hand before she even saw her.
‘Hello, beautiful girl.’ Fiona stopped and bent down, her stomach squashing up against her breasts. ‘Geez, that feels weird,’ she complained. ‘Now, Miss Meita, Jo is coming out tonight, so don’t be barking your head off when the lights show up, okay? Unless you get wind of that bloody wild dog. Then bark as loud and long as you can. Where’s Mum? I guess she’ll be staying again tonight. It’s not like I need the company,’ she complained quietly. Her mother thought she was doing her daughter a good turn by staying every so often. But most of the time she seemed to pick the nights that Fiona craved to be by herself.
Meita stood quietly as Fiona grabbed a few bags of shopping from the back seat of the dual cab.
The lights of the house weren’t on and the darkness made Fiona shiver.
‘C’mon, Meita, you can come in with me tonight, I think.’
Flicking on the lights as she went in, she saw a note in her mother’s handwriting on the table. As she read it, a small smile lightened her face. Ah, so her mother and the local doctor, Scott, had gone out to dinner. That was good news. It gave Carly something else to focus on, other than her widowed daughter. As much as she loved her mum and appreciated her support, she could be domineering. And her insistence about the locks was driving her spare. She had Will to thank for that. After one of their Facebook conversations, Will had told Carly that Fiona was getting frightened at night. Now Carly had taken it upon herself to make fitting the locks her top priority. She’d even gone so far as to bail Rob up in the street yesterday! Fiona had to keep reminding herself it was only because her mother was worried about her.
Meita followed her as she checked the answering machine in the office and listened to the messages, all the while gazing at the silver urn on the mantelpiece. It held her Charlie.
‘Hi, Fiona, it’s Mark. Letting you know that the price of lambs has increased by twenty cents per kilo, over the hooks. If you’ve got any ready, let me know—I’ve got this price for about a week.’
The machine beeped then the next voice was Rob’s. ‘Hi, Fiona, I got your message about the locks. Happy to put them on for you. Got the impression your mum was pretty keen to get it done, so I’ll head out in the next day or two. Glad I can help you out. Let me know if you want any firewood, too. I’ve got a few spare loads cut up. I can bring one out when I come. Cheers.’
‘That should finally shut Carly up,’ Fiona thought as she wrote herself a note to ring Rob. A load, so she could keep having her fire at night, would be perfect. She wiggled the mouse to bring the computer to life. She saw there was a message from Will.
How goes it, sis? he wrote. Sorry I’ve been quiet all week—the firm have had me working overtime on a case to do with mining. You wouldn’t believe all the environmental reports we have to read—boring as batshit! ;-) Was good to see the photos you sent through of your jaunt up towards the Flinders. Different country up there to where you are, that’s for sure. How are you feeling now? And Bub? How’s he? I’ll be online later tonight if you need to chat—you sounded a bit flat last night. <3 Will
Putting her fingers to the keyboard, she quickly typed: Jo’s coming to stay tonight, we’re going to try to put the cot together. We may or may not come out without blood. A flat-packed piece of furniture and two women who know best … Wish us luck!
Just as she hit the enter button, Meita let out a bark and ran towards the front door. Looking out, she could see the telltale glow of lights coming around the side of the shed. Jo was here!
‘Hello, hello,’ she said as she bustled inside. ‘It’s cold out there.’
Fiona gave her a hug. ‘I know. I was just going to light the fire.’
Jo put her hand on Fiona’s stomach. ‘All good in there, Master Forrest?’ she asked, before fixing her friend with a stare. ‘What about you?’
‘It’s been a long week, but we’re
both fine.’ She knelt down in front of the fire and started to stack the hearth with kindling. ‘How was yours?’
Jo poured herself a glass of wine and flopped into the chair. ‘Oh, you know, crop-inspection time. Everything is looking pretty good, but there’re all the old enemies around, beginning to show. It’s so early, but we’re starting to see heaps of snails. And there’s a few aphids into the pastures.’
Fiona got up from the floor, rewarded as the small flames took hold. ‘You’re going to check all of my crops tomorrow, aren’t you?’ she asked, her stomach constricting slightly. She hadn’t budgeted on spraying too early. She knew she’d have to do something about aphids and red-legged earth mites, but not anything else. Snail pellets were expensive; it wasn’t just the cost of buying them, it was also the expense of hiring a spreading contractor to get them out onto the paddocks.
The bank still hadn’t unfrozen the business account and her personal one was running low, even with the money she had transferred into it. It would be a while before she had any more lambs to sell. She wished she could take up Mark’s offer of higher prices, but the lambs just weren’t ready. A suffocating feeling of being trapped started flowing through her body. Quickly she reined it in. She couldn’t make sensible decisions if she was emotional.
She swung back from the fire in time to see Jo drain the last of her glass and pour another one from the bottle sitting beside her. Fiona looked at Jo carefully. She noticed the dark smudges under her eyes. She looked very tired.
‘You working too hard?’ she asked as she sat on the couch next to Jo.
‘Just a long week,’ Jo hedged.
Fiona sighed and let her head fall back against the couch. She didn’t think tonight was the night to try to tackle that cot. Maybe next weekend.
They sat there quietly, until Fiona felt Meita put her paw on her leg. The loveliest thing about this dog was that she had barely left her side since Charlie died. It was as if she knew something within her mistress had shifted and that she needed her.
She covered Meita’s paw with her hand. ‘I met the nicest of ladies when I went for a drive last week.’
‘Hmm?’
‘Her name was Kim and it turned out that I went to school with her niece. She was just who I needed to run into that day, I think. She seemed to totally understand how I was feeling.’
Jo opened her eyes and turned to look at her. ‘That’s really great. Did she lose someone, too?’
‘Nope, just really seemed to understand the “why” questions.’ She stretched out. ‘You know, I never understand the way people come into our lives, or that things sometimes happen when we need them. It crossed my mind that Charlie might have had something to do with that.’ Her voice trailed off and she shut her eyes before she could see the look on Jo’s face. That wouldn’t be something she would understand. ‘Kim’s been texting me every day to see how I’m going. She’s gorgeous.’ Fiona paused before asking, ‘What do you want for tea?’
‘Cheese and biscuits.’
‘Going all out then? Is that what you usually eat when you get home?’
Jo let out a giggle. ‘More like can’t be bothered. And no, I’m a bit of a fan of frozen meals.’
‘Jo! Doesn’t sound like you’re doing a good job of taking care of you!’
‘Maybe not, but it’s easy.’
‘I need to eat something. He’s getting hungry,’ Fiona commented as she felt a weird sensation deep inside her belly. She gasped, her hand flying to her stomach. She felt the slight fluttery sensation again.
Jo shot up from the couch. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, panicked.
‘I think he just moved,’ Fiona said, her voice filled with awe.
‘Really?’ Jo put out her hand and pulled it back before it reached Fiona’s belly.
Fiona took her hand and placed it on her swollen stomach. ‘I don’t think you’ll feel it yet,’ she said softly.
‘What does it feel like?’ Jo’s voice was quiet and reverent.
‘Butterfly wings,’ Fiona whispered. ‘Brushing my stomach. Can you feel anything?’
‘No.’ Jo finally leaned away. ‘Wow.’
‘Yeah, wow.’
The magical moment passed and Fiona struggled to her feet while Jo reached for her wine.
‘Right, I’ll put on some eggs,’ she said, going into the kitchen.
‘Should be me looking after you,’ Jo said and she stood up to put a small log on the fire. ‘Not the other way around. Where’s your mum? Thought she’d be here telling you what to do, as usual.’
Getting out a frying pan and the eggs from the fridge, Fiona laughed. ‘Oh my God, didn’t I tell you? She and Scott have had a couple of dates! She’s out with him tonight.’
Jo clattered into the kitchen, her face alight. ‘Are you serious? Ha! That’s bloody classic. I can’t imagine Carly going out on a date.’
‘I’m really pleased for her. It’s about time she found someone else. Dad’s not coming back, obviously. Who even knows where he is or if he’s still alive.’ She sprayed some oil into the pan and cracked an egg on the side. ‘I don’t care. But I always thought Mum sort of hoped he would. Even though I’m pretty sure she never would have taken him back. But I think she would’ve liked to have seen him grovel!’
‘Do you remember much about him leaving?’ Jo hoisted herself up onto the bench, her glass of wine next to her.
Fiona stopped to think back. ‘Nope, I was away at school. Mum rang one day and said he’d just gone. Left a note to say he wasn’t coming back and she could have everything. He took about ten grand in cash, then we never heard from him again.’ She shrugged.
‘But didn’t she get upset? You’d think if someone walked out like that, you’d at least be a little sad? Didn’t you get upset?’
Fiona thought about that as she put the bread in the toaster. ‘I think she concentrated on me and Will. I never saw her upset, but maybe she just didn’t let us see her like that. You know,’ she paused, ‘maybe that’s why she’s the way she is now,’ she said slowly, as if all the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place. ‘She’s overbearing and controlling, but I don’t remember her being like that when I was really young. That’s what it must be, the hurt and bitterness inside her.’ Getting out the plates, she smiled. ‘If anyone can get that out of her, it’ll be Scott. As for me, my father wasn’t a large part of my life. He wasn’t often home, when Will and I were—it was Mum who did everything. Took us to sport or church. He was always away. I never asked Mum what he was doing. It was just accepted.’ She grabbed a sponge out of the sink and began to wipe down the bench. ‘Perhaps I should have.’ Her voiced faded in memories.
Fiona jumped as Jo banged her glass on the bench with a whoop. ‘Oh, I’ve just worked it out! Maybe that’s why Janey was so pissed with her when we took you into the surgery the other day. Everyone knows she’s had the hots for the doc for years! She’s always making lovey-dovey eyes at him.’ She raised her voice, mimicking the receptionist. ‘Can I get you anything, Doctor? A cup of coffee maybe? You’ve had such a long, hard night delivering babies.’
Shaking off her thoughts, Fiona laughed. ‘You sound just like her!’
‘She’s one woman who does annoy me,’ Jo confided. ‘I’m sure she only works for Scott because she’s such a busy-body.’
Sliding the eggs from the pan onto the buttered toast, Fiona passed the plate to Jo, who refilled her wine glass for the fourth time and went back into the lounge room to eat. Before sitting down she took off her jumper.
‘Doesn’t take long to warm up the room,’ she said.
‘Might have something to do with the wine you’re drinking. Your cheeks are red already!’
They ate in companionable silence, although Fiona could tell that Jo was shooting glances at her. She knew her friend well enough to know she was working up to something.
‘What?’ It might be better to head off what she was about to say than wait until she was questioned.
&nbs
p; ‘What do you mean, what?’
‘You keep looking at me. Like you’ve got something to tell me, or ask. If it’s so difficult I would have thought the wine would’ve given you enough Dutch courage by now!’
‘Do you want to clean out Charlie’s clothes yet?’ Jo blurted out after a moment.
Fiona stilled, trying to understand the words. ‘Um …’
‘Not that you have to,’ Jo rushed on, ‘but I thought I’d bring it up in case you wanted to but didn’t want to bother anyone for help.’
The thought of parting with the things Charlie had worn—been inside of. No, no, she just couldn’t. Fiona put down her plate and brushed tears away. ‘I don’t want to do that.’
‘Sorry, it’s been on my mind for a while.’
‘Well, you have my answer now—no.’ She stood up and went into the office to look at the urn holding Charlie’s remains.
Jo appeared next to her, touching her arm. ‘We’ve never really talked about that night.’
Fiona picked up the urn and held it to her cheek. ‘There’s nothing I want to remember about it, but I see it every day. I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Okay.’ Jo didn’t say anything more. She left the room and returned with another glass of wine, but this time she brought back a glass of water for Fiona. She took the urn out of Fiona’s hands and placed it carefully on the mantelpiece before leading her back to the couch in the lounge.
The fire crackled and sent sparks shooting up the chimney. Fiona stared into the fire, remembering everything.
‘He looked like he was sleeping,’ she said. ‘Like he’d fallen asleep in the front of the car. Charlie did that sometimes. Especially when he’d been seeding and working really long hours. If Leigh hadn’t come and got me and I’d seen him, I would have assumed that was what he was doing. Until I looked in the window. He was so blue around his lips, and when I held his hand, the skin underneath his fingernails was blue, too.’ She took a breath as memories continued to pour from her. ‘I thought he should have been pink, but he wasn’t. Just blue and so still. So still.’
Sapphire Falls Page 8
