by Iris Blobel
Her assistant brought some coffee and biscuits.
“You’ve brought the cold weather to Melbourne,” Karen said, as she poured herself some coffee. Pointing to his take-a-way coffee cup, she asked, “Would you like a fill-up?”
“I’m right, thanks,” he replied, ignoring her swipe at the weather. Mat emptied his cup of coffee with one long sip before he placed it on the table. “Are you still going ahead with the contract?”
He was referring to the nasty incident a week earlier with a helicopter crash in the mountains. It’d been a big blow for the small communities of Fox and Franz Josef Glacier.
Karen nodded. “Terrible. Just terrible.” She paused and leaned back in her chair. “Yes, we’d like to go ahead with the contract. We assume by the time you’ll have set up the business in Queenstown, it will be out of the news.”
Mat’s stomach squeezed. How he hated this side of business. If this hadn’t meant a big opportunity for him and Adam, he’d have cancelled the whole meeting. Bugger the money. But he wanted to move back to Queenstown and the contract would give him the finances to set up an office in his hometown.
Karen reached for her cup of coffee. “Tell me about you and your partner.”
He leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs. It was his favourite subject. “Adam and I started our helicopter business five years ago in Fox Glacier. It was simple as we liked the idea of doing what we loved every day and meeting people from all over the world at the same time. Now we fly hundreds of tourists to the summit of the glacier or hunters and hikers to inaccessible huts on the top of the mountains.”
“And what about the idea to move to Queenstown.”
He cocked a brow. “We’re not moving. Staff in Fox Glacier is brilliant. We’re expanding at a nice rate. Now we’d like to expand to Queenstown. It’s my hometown. I’d love to show off where I grew up.”
“I can see why,” she replied with a smile. “Okay then.”
He gave a slow nod. “Okay. Let’s talk figures.”
Mat’s knowledge about figures was basic and something he’d learnt over the last few years since he’d started the business with Adam. They hadn’t been able to afford someone to look after their books, so they’d handled the task themselves. Yet, he knew what he wanted, and after two hours of discussing, arguing, and checking numbers, he’d finally come to an agreement with Karen on their first draft. It was now up to their lawyers to settle on the details.
Before he left, though, they spent another few minutes talking about New Zealand, travelling, and how he’d come to be a helicopter pilot. He liked Karen, and she promised she’d be one of the first to fly with him once he’d moved.
Mat walked back to his car, tired and worn out. Too much talking. When it came to the business side of things, his heart wasn’t as invested. He loved flying, loved being up in the air, the sensation of no ties, and gazing at the wonders Mother Nature had to offer.
****
Tiffany walked down the floating wooden staircase, which reached up to her half-floor loft bedroom, and into the kitchen for a drink. Water gushed from the faucet as she filled the kettle and then switched it on.
Her mind returned to the conversation with Steve’s friend, Mat. She’d enjoyed the brief, although bizarre, conversation. His voice had been so happy and full of energy it had taken her mind off her problem within only a few minutes. Something she hadn’t been able to achieve with the bath she had taken later that morning. The whole hysteria from the previous year had crept up, leaving her anxious, tense, and with a headache. A nice cup of tea would hopefully do the trick. She thought of Mat’s laugh and her mouth curled in response. It was deep and hearty. One of those laughs that could be contagious to anyone who heard it. Just thinking about it brought a smile to her lips. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember whether Steve had ever mentioned Mat’s name, but as much as she tried, she wasn’t able to recall ever hearing about a friend from New Zealand.
The whistling kettle drew her back from her thoughts, and she filled her cup. Dipping the teabag in and out of the water, she recalled her conversation with Steve earlier in the day when he’d finally returned her call.
“What’s up, Tiff? I’ve got about three missed calls here,” he had asked, not giving her a chance to even say hello.
Just hearing his voice sent a jolt of relief through her, almost catching her breath. After all, most of her problems weren’t half as bad once Steve was there to help. Despite him being her brother Liam’s best friend, Steve and Tiffany had become close during the year Liam had gone to London for a gap year.
“Why haven’t you ever told me about Mat?” Stunned by her own question, she slapped her forehead a few times wondering where the question had come from — especially as matters more important were on hand.
There was a quiet chuckle on the other end of the line, and she was momentarily struck by a bout of embarrassment.
“Your problem can’t be too bad,” Steve replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Ignoring his comment, she said, “The police was here asking about Hudson.”
Silence hung in the air before he replied, “Shit. No wonder I’ve had so many missed calls.”
“Not to mention the amount of time I tried to get hold of you on your landline. So who the hell is this guy, and why did he answer your phone?”
“First things first, tell me about the police.”
Tiffany headed into the lounge room and sat on the couch. “As I said already, they turned up here this morning wanting to know about Hudson.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, but quickly added, “How the hell would I know?”
Her friend’s sigh alerted her that frustration grew within him, so she told him about the visit earlier in the day in every detail. She looked around the lounge room as she spoke, taking in the bright colours of the painted walls, the small, but rustic fireplace, her sofa and matching armchairs, and the bookshelves, packed with books and photos.
“I’m sorry to bother you with this, but I don’t know where else to go. Mum and Dad will worry themselves sick and won’t be any use. And Liam will go berserk when he finds out the police came to the house again. I’m still glad he didn’t get locked up when he pushed that officer last year. And there’s also the fact that Mel’s stress-o-meter is supposed to stay below zero.”
There was silence at the other end of the line and a smile tugged at Tiffany’s mouth, assuming he got her hint about Liam’s wife.
“Run that by me again?” he finally asked.
“Focus, Steve. Focus. I need your help.” Her smile turned into a grin despite anxiety spreading through her.
“Okay, I’ll be there in half an hour. You can tell me all about Mel’s stress levels on the way to the police.”
“You first.”
“First what?”
“You’re first to reveal all about your Kiwi friend.”
He snorted and hung up without replying.
Tiffany tried to eat something and although the sandwich in front of her looked delicious with the fresh cucumber, tomatoes, and ham, she wasn’t able to take a bite. Impatient and unable to relax, she went into her bedroom and tidied up while thinking back to the time she had spent with Hudson.
She’d met him over a year ago. He’d been in her business management classes, and she’d liked him straight away. Sexy described him to the dot. His voice, his face, his sense of how to dress, his compliments…she was sure she could come up with more. Yet, his enthusiasm had been lacking, and he’d struggled through classes. Obviously, Tiffany had been happy to help, because hanging out with the wrong crowd, or friends as they called themselves, in school, she’d left after Year 9 with nowhere to go, and she knew how it was. Hudson and Tiffany hung out more and more, until they’d spent a night together. Rolling her eyes at herself, she admitted, yes, perfect was the right word to describe having sex with him. He’d known how and where to touch her, explorin
g every curve with his mouth, leaving a trail of kisses. The mere thought still sent shivers down her spine, followed by a chill thinking about what had happened the next day. She’d found him in his lounge room, all pale with little pearls of sweat on his forehead. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out the reason for his distress. When she started giving him a lecture about drugs, he’d snapped, throwing a tantrum.
Her mistake had been to persist instead of leaving and closing the door on their short chapter. When she’d dared to shake her head in disgust, he clipped her across the jaw with a perfect fist. She’d fought hard to stay on her feet, ignoring the intense pain and the dizziness. It hadn’t been a one off. Another hit…and next thing she remembered she’d woken up in hospital.
And now he was causing her trouble again. Though, not directly, it seemed.
An indescribable emotion grew inside her. She stared towards the window and watched the few birds in the back yard. Although anger and worry tried to trickle through her, the emotions inside her were more like an emptiness. It was as if Hudson had never existed during the last twelve months and giving him room inside her, in the form of any emotion, was something she wouldn’t allow to happen.
And, yet, the police thought she had information that could help. Help with what? How? Did she have it in her to help?
When she heard a knock at the front door, she flinched and cursed the unknown situation grating so much on her nerves.
Opening the door for Steve, she gave him a grateful smile. As usual, he looked stunning with his suntanned face, his light green eyes, and just a shadow of a beard. His Irish red hair was a bit longer nowadays, which was most likely the current fashion, and Tiffany liked it. It gave him a sexier, yet mature look. Their friendship had grown even closer after her trouble with Hudson the previous year. He and Liam had been there for her when the police had knocked on her door and taken her to the station. It had been the worst period in her life. Both men had been by her side, though, caring for her and guiding her through the labyrinth of a legal nightmare.
He probably knew how anxious she was.
“Hi, Tiff,” he said, as he placed a kiss on her cheek. “Sorry, we’ve got to rush a bit. Jessi and I have an appointment in the afternoon.”
“Your girlfriend could show some—”
He held up his hand and his expression turned into a sly grin. “Let’s say we have a situation where I want to keep her stress levels as low as possible.”
She froze and a slow smile curved her lips. “Are you telling me there’s going to be a little Steve junior?”
“I’m telling you we’re having an appointment and that we’ve got to hurry along a bit.”
“How exciting.” Tiffany grabbed her keys, locked the door, and followed him to his car.
Once they were buckled up and on the road, Steve asked, “Have you had any contact with Hudson since?”
“No way. Once bitten, twice shy. Isn’t that what they say?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sat straight. “Okay, distract me a bit and tell me about Mat.”
He shook his head. “Sounds like love at first sight. Or hear, I suppose.”
“Oh, my God, no, but I’m curious about him.”
He chuckled. “Mat lived across the road from us in Sydney,” he explained with a shrug. “His dad had been a famous rugby player in New Zealand. The family moved to Sydney where his dad did some coaching. None of them really settled, though. Mat and I stayed in contact since. Liam and I visited him numerous times. I’m hoping to invest in his new business venture. That’s why he’s here.”
“What kind of business?”
Steve parked and turned to look at her. “How about a barbeque at our place tomorrow night? I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to tell you all about his little barn in the middle of nowhere.”
“Barn?”
He laughed. “He bought the thing a few years back and turned it into one mighty great house. Shame he’s moving back to Queenstown.”
They got out of the car and walked towards the police station entrance. A sudden rush of anxiety swept through her, leaving her hands cold and her heart pounding in her throat.
Taking her hand, Steve said, “You’ll be right. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation to it.”
She let out a puff of air. “With the police ending up at my doorstep wanting information about Hudson, I doubt the explanation is simple.”
Two
Twenty minutes later, Tiffany and Steve sat in a small, barren room opposite Senior Constable Jones and Sergeant Harris. In an effort to calm her nerves, Tiffany tried hard to control her shaking body with a few slow and deep breaths, but to no avail. She was shivering as if she was freezing, and her skin was cold and clammy.
The officers introduced themselves to Steve.
“Good meeting you,” Steve said. “I’m Steve Casey, and a good friend of Tiffany’s.”
Tiffany looked over to him, grateful for his company.
Harris leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “I’d like to clarify again this is purely a conversation to collect information. Miss Cahill is free to reply to questions at her will. Nothing will be recorded.”
Steve looked at Tiffany, giving her an almost imperceptible nod.
“Okay,” she replied to Harris.
“You knew Thomas Terrill as Hudson?” Jones asked, as she slid a photo across the table towards Tiffany.
She nodded.
“You were in a relationship at the time?”
“A brief encounter is what I’d call it.”
Harris met her gaze, acknowledging her reply, then asked, “When did you see him last?”
“About a year ago.”
“Why did you stop the contact?”
“The evil bastard beat me into unconsciousness.”
Although both Harris and Jones kept their expressions straight, Tiffany was sure she saw something like surprise and sympathy on Jones’ face.
“After that?”
She shook her head.
“We have a file note regarding an incident a few weeks later.”
Steve placed a hand on her shoulder and ran it up and down her back in a soothing stroke, calming her with a slight rhythmic move. Tiffany let out a long breath.
“Not one of the police’s finest moments,” she said, trying hard to convey some humour when she didn’t feel any.
Harris met her gaze, but remained silent.
Closing her eyes, she said, “If it’s all in a file, I suppose it’s not necessary for me to retell the details, is it?”
“Any contact with Thomas after that incident?”
She shook her head again. “Thankfully, no.”
“Ever talked to anybody about him?”
Her eyes shot open and with a shrug, she replied, “Possibly my brother, but I doubt it. Hudson’s not worth wasting even a second of my life on. Hard to believe I’m here because of him.”
“To your knowledge, would your brother have talked to anybody about him?”
“I’d say no for the very same reason. Got him into enough trouble last year.”
Harris nodded. “Miss Cahill. How good is your knowledge of cars?”
Surprised by the question, she hesitated. “Next to nothing,” she replied with a frown.
“Would you know where to find the brake cable?”
She shrugged. “I had no idea there was a cable. Isn’t it just the foot pedal?”
Harris smiled and looked at Steve. “Have you ever met Thomas Terrill?”
“No, sir,” Steve said without hesitation. “Didn’t know him in person.”
Jones took the photo, and Harris sat back. “Mr. Thomas Terrill was killed in a car accident last week. Although we found drugs in the car, Mr. Terrill’s blood test came back negative. However…” He paused for a moment, possibly letting all the information sink in before he continued. “We found the brake cable had been tampered with. If you kn
ow or can think of anything that might assist our investigation, we’d appreciate you telling us.”
She stared at him, taking in every single word. Was Harris implying murder? Hudson was murdered? She thought for a long moment, trying to process the information. “At the moment, I cannot think of anything, most likely because of the uncomfortable situation of being here.” Pulling out the business card he’d given her earlier in the day, she held it up and added, “But I will give you a call if something comes to mind.”
“Please do.”
After a few more pleasantries, they all stood and shook hands. The relief that washed over Tiffany as soon as she exited the room was so intense, it left her dizzy, and she held on to Steve for a moment.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s the adrenaline causing me a rush of light-headedness.”
“Need a drink of water?”
“No. Just let’s get the hell out of here. Can’t say it’s a place I like.”
He chuckled as he checked his watch.
“And you have the appointment to check on Junior.”
Steve placed an arm around her shoulder and with a soft tug pulled her closer to him. Placing a kiss on her forehead, he said against her skin, “I’ll kill you if you spill the beans to anybody.”
“Yes, honey. My lips are sealed.”
As soon as they stepped out of the building, Tiffany said, “I’ll get the bus home. There’s a bus stop only a few minutes from here.”
“Sure?”
She nodded and moved out of his arm. “A hundred percent. You better get to the appointment.”
“I owe you.”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No you don’t. I wouldn’t even know how to thank you for coming along today.”
He took her head into his hands and placed another kiss on her forehead. “Promise me you’ll be fine on that bus.”
“Hudson’s dead, remember.”
“Yes, but the way it sounds it’s not by choice.”
