‘Yes,’ she answered a little stiffly, removing her hand from his. ‘I am.’
A hint of amusement lit his gaze and the edges of his mouth lifted again. ‘They must train them very young down under,’ he said. ‘I was expecting someone much older and with a bit more experience.’
She straightened her spine and eyeballed him as she clipped out, ‘I am thirty-two years old and I can assure you I have had plenty of experience.’
This time his expression was far easier to read: it contained a generous measure of mockery. ‘Well, then, Dr Hayden from Australia, I hope you will put that experience to good use while you are with us in Penhally Bay,’ he said, his lip curling ever so slightly over the words.
Her hands gripped her handbag hanging over her shoulder and her mouth pulled tight as she replied, ‘I intend to, Chief Inspector.’
His eyes roved over her again. ‘I’m a pretty easygoing chief, but I was expecting someone dressed a little more formally for our first meeting. Or have you been moonlighting in covert operations?’
She lifted her chin, her eyes shooting sparks of livid blue fire at him. ‘Actually, I’ve come straight from an international flight that was delayed for more than twelve hours and my luggage failed to arrive with me—it’s probably somewhere over the Middle East by now. So if you have a problem with what I’m wearing, Chief Inspector D’Ancey, perhaps you’d better take it up with my airline, not me.’
Lachlan suppressed an inward smile at her little show of insurgence. She was as Constable Derrey had predicted: a career-woman with a chip on her shoulder, clearly resentful she had to take orders from a man.
She was, however, far more attractive than he had expected in a hard-nosed career-woman. She looked like she could strut along the catwalk with her slim-but-with-curves-in-all-the-right-places figure. Her short chaotic hair was almost but not quite platinum blonde and her eyes a startling clear china blue, in spite of her recent long-haul flight. Her mouth was set in a prim line right now but there was a suspicion of sensuality about it in its soft contours which made him wonder just how much experience she had had and who had enjoyed it with her.
His eyes went to her left hand to see if she was married but her finger was bare. She was wearing a silver watch on her left wrist, an expensive one by the look of it and somewhat at odds with her faded jeans and stained vest top, but he wasn’t going to apologise for his comment. Dr Eloise Hayden looked like she needed taking down a peg or two and he was happy to be the one to do it.
‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.
‘Trevallyn House.’
His brows lifted again and his mouth twisted sardonically. ‘So your forensics department is cost-cutting, is it?’
Eloise felt like slamming him up against the nearest wall. He was deliberately baiting her, she could tell. She had met so many men like him in her line of work that she had lost count years ago—power hungry, and resentful of a younger woman taking command of an investigation. But she hadn’t travelled all this way to be treated like a novice. She had a job to do and woe betide anyone who stood in her way. This was her first international appointment and the success of it would secure her reputation as one of the best forensic pathologists Australia had to offer.
She met his whisky-brown eyes with a level stare even though it made her neck protest. ‘I am quite happy with the accommodation I have been assigned,’ she said in a curt tone. ‘It’s right in the centre of the village and I’m used to roughing it whenever necessary.’
‘Well you’ll certainly be roughing it at Trevallyn House,’ he said with a crooked smile. ‘Last I heard there was only one toilet working.’
Eloise unclenched her jaw and returned, ‘I see no point in wasting taxpayers’ money on luxury accommodation when this case could very well go on for longer than first expected.’
Something flickered in his brown gaze as it held hers, but she didn’t have time to identify exactly what it was for he masked it so quickly.
‘We’ve done a first-rate investigation, as my briefing showed,’ he said. ‘I hardly think you will uncover anything that would prolong the investigation any more than a week at the most, no matter how impressive your CV.’
The look she gave him was imperious. ‘My review could be straightforward, but there are a few things I do have questions about. I guess that’s the whole point of an external review, isn’t it? To get a fresh perspective.’
He gave her a cool little smile as he pushed open his office door. ‘Let’s get started, then,’ he said, and indicated for her to precede him inside.
CHAPTER TWO
ELOISE moved past him in the doorway, keeping her arms close to her body in case she inadvertently touched him, but even so the subtle notes of his aftershave drifted towards her, an intoxicating combination of sharp citrus and moody musk that made her nostrils flare involuntarily.
She took the chair opposite his cluttered desk and it was only when she was seated with her legs pressed tightly together that he took his own chair, his brown gaze watchful as it connected with hers.
‘So, Dr Hayden,’ he began in a seemingly polite tone. ‘Was it your choice to come all this way to Penhally Bay or were you the only one available at the time?’
Eloise felt her lips pursing in annoyance. ‘There were other people available but my boss thought I had the best mix of skills for this review,’ she said. ‘It will also be beneficial to my career to take this posting.’
‘Is this your first international assignment?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but that doesn’t mean I—’
‘This is a small close-knit community,’ he interrupted her without apology. ‘If you come here with the intention of stirring up a hornet’s nest just for the heck of it to score brownie points back home, forget it.’
‘I wasn’t intending to do any such thing. I just—’
‘The autopsy report showed that Ethan Jenson died by drowning,’ he cut her off again. ‘I doubt very much if you will find out anything more, no matter how talented your boss thinks you are.’
Eloise had trouble containing her anger. She wasn’t normally the hot-headed type but something about his manner towards her made her skin start to prickle all over with irritation. She could see what he thought of her in the derisive line of his mouth and the glint of scorn in his gaze every time it came in contact with hers.
She sat up straighter in her chair, her eyes glittering as they held his. ‘That was my first question, actually,’ she said. ‘I’m not happy with the autopsy. The diagnosis of drowning was made mostly on external pathologic findings, but the circumstances of the case don’t add up in my mind. How could a world-class surfer drown on a shallow beach? There was only one lung biopsy taken, and that didn’t show any oedema. I want to redo the autopsy, and I want more lung tissue and tracheal and bronchial tissue to examine.’
‘Are you calling our local pathologist incompetent?’ he asked. ‘And have you considered the impact of this on the victim’s relatives—his mother and father, for instance, or his three younger brothers?’
‘I understand that it is a difficult time for the family,’ she said. ‘But from the autopsy report that I’ve seen, I could not definitively rule out suicide, or even murder. The finding of accidental death is not conclusive.’
‘This is Penhally Bay, not somewhere violent crime is commonplace,’ Lachlan said with a heavy frown. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the autopsy was carried out by a senior pathologist, the diagnosis was drowning, and there simply were no suspicious circumstances. The closure the family needs right now is to fly their loved one’s body home for burial. This has gone on for a week as it is. I see no point in prolonging their agony by performing another autopsy, which will no doubt come up with nothing of significance.’
‘But surely you know that the request for another autopsy came via the Jensons’ legal advisors in Sydney?’ Eloise responded tightly. ‘Ethan Jenson had several high-profile sponsors who, along with the family, want firm an
swers about what happened.’
She snatched in a quick breath and, trying her best not to be intimidated by his laser-like stare, continued, ‘You must know yourself the diagnosis of drowning is one of the most difficult in forensic pathology. Sure, there were external signs that the body was in water for some time, but that doesn’t mean that death was from drowning. From the report I saw, there was no description of froth in the airway—maybe he was dead first and was then put in the water. The one lung biopsy didn’t show emphysema aquosum or pulmonary oedema. And I’m not happy that the diatom test was thorough enough. I want to repeat it on new cardiac, blood, lung, liver, bone marrow and brain tissue, because the diatom report reeks of fresh-water contamination of the samples. And it was qualitative, not quantitative. I want samples of the water at the site where the body was found for a proper comparison.’
Lachlan shifted his lips from side to side as he considered her angle on things. She had made several good points certainly, but he had every faith in the local pathologist and didn’t like to rock the boat, so to speak, by openly supporting another autopsy. He understood where the family was coming from in requesting a review of the verdict. A lot of relatives of accidental death victims did the same. It took them time to accept their loved one wasn’t coming back. It had only been a week—their pain was still so raw they were still struggling to cope with it all.
‘And that brings me to question two,’ Eloise said into the taut silence. ‘The toxicology results—I noted there was no carbon monoxide assay, yet the victim’s hands were noted to be cherry red.’
He returned her direct look with an unblinking stare. ‘You’re making the autopsy report I received sound completely incompetent, Dr Hayden. I know the pathologist who did the autopsy. He’s extremely reliable. I’ve worked with him many times before. I have the greatest admiration for him.’
‘I am sure you do,’ she said. ‘But no one is perfect and even the best of us miss things at times.’
A corner of his mouth lifted slightly. ‘Are you admitting you sometimes get it wrong, Dr Hayden?’
She stared back at him, her lips pulled tight once more. ‘Not often but I’m not arrogant enough to assume I never will.’
His mouth was still tilted in a half-smile. ‘Let’s hope for your sake this is not one of those times, although if what you are telling me is correct, I would have to support a reexamination of the body.’
‘Thank you, Chief Inspector D’Ancey,’ Eloise said, having trouble concealing the effect his stomach-flipping smile had on her. Every time she looked at him her chest felt as if a tiny moth had landed inside the cage of her lungs and was now fighting for a way out.
She crossed and uncrossed her legs and then added in a businesslike tone, ‘And that brings me to question number three. Was Mr Jenson a known drug user?’
‘Not that we could ascertain,’ he answered as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still locked on hers. ‘The toxicology report isn’t in yet and won’t be for another couple of weeks. Why? Do you have additional information on him that we weren’t sent?’
‘No,’ she said, moistening her lips with a darting movement of her tongue. ‘I have been given the same files as you have. Ethan Jenson had a couple of DUI charges when he was in his late teens but there has been nothing since. Did you know him personally?’
Lachlan mentally kicked himself for not anticipating her question. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard but he had only recently become aware of his daughter’s infatuation with the surfer and hadn’t yet made up his mind if the rumours currently circulating the village were true. Poppy had admitted she had met the victim on the beach and that he had given her his autograph, but she had denied any other involvement with him, although James Derrey’s comment made him wonder if he should have another little private chat with his daughter. But while he knew it wasn’t too late for him to be taken off the case, he also knew speculation would increase if he stepped down from the inquiry.
He wondered if Dr Eloise Hayden already suspected something. She had a look of sharp intelligence about her. Those china-blue eyes had been busily assessing him from the word go, her features schooled into cool impassivity while she quietly made up her mind about him.
He leaned back in his chair and idly flicked his pen on and off, the tiny click-clack prolonging the tight-as-a-violin-bow silence.
‘As I said a moment ago, Dr Hayden, this is a small close-knit community,’ he said. ‘The presence of a celebrity surfer in our midst was a big thing. Ethan Jenson was hardly able to walk down the street without someone stopping him for an autograph every few paces.’
‘Did you ask him for one?’
He frowned at her. ‘No, I did not.’
One of her finely arched brows lifted. ‘So you weren’t exactly a fan of his, Chief Inspector D’Ancey?’
Lachlan felt like grinding his teeth but somehow he managed to give her a cool smile instead. ‘I am usually too busy keeping order in Wadebridge. I have only been assigned this case while you are here as I happen to live locally.’
‘I did wonder why someone with your senior ranking would be operating out of such a small community,’ she put in. ‘Who else is assigned to this station?’
‘PC James Derrey and PC Gaye Trembath,’ he answered. ‘They are the local officers and along with me will help you in any way you require during your stay.’
Eloise privately wondered if Lachlan D’Ancey was going to be more of a help or a hindrance. There was something about his manner that alerted her to an undercurrent of tension running through him. He was good at hiding it, she had to admit, but she’d been working alongside cops long enough to know how much they liked playing their cards close to their chests. He was all cool politeness but behind the screen of his brown eyes was a studied watchfulness that made her suspect he was more than a little uncomfortable with her presence in the village.
Her eyes went to his long-fingered hands, the right one still clicking his pen in that annoying little way that she assumed was meant to intimidate her.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Her gaze zeroed in on the narrow band of lighter-toned skin of his left hand ring finger, the absence of a ring suggesting he had either lost it recently or that he had been married but was no longer. Somehow she automatically presumed the latter rather than the former. Although his desk was cluttered, everything about him suggested he was an organised and meticulous officer. She couldn’t imagine him losing anything or indeed much escaping his notice; he had an aura of quiet but steely authority about him and she couldn’t help feeling those whisky-coloured eyes hinted at dark secrets lurking just below the surface.
Her eyes collided with his in the silence, and a sensation like a feather being brushed over the back of her neck made her shift restlessly in her seat again.
‘You mentioned your luggage didn’t arrive,’ he said. ‘Is there anything you need for tonight or tomorrow? I can organise some clothes for you. I have a sixteen-year-old daughter who is much the same height and build as you.’
Eloise was surprised at how much his features softened as he spoke of his daughter. The hard set to his mouth relaxed and tender warmth entered his gaze momentarily. He might have been recently separated or divorced from his wife, she thought, but quite clearly not from his offspring.
‘That’s very kind of you but I’m not sure I will be taken seriously by the locals if I turn up in a sixteen-year-old’s attire,’ she responded, and after a tiny pause added with a deliberately pointed look, ‘I made a bad enough impression on you, turning up in jeans.’
Again a small smile lifted the edges of his mouth. ‘Are you expecting an apology from me, Dr Hayden?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said with a level stare, but her chest cavity started fluttering again. ‘But, then, you don’t seem the type to hand them out all that frequently.’
He held her look with enviable ease. ‘You consider yourself quite good at reading people, don’t you?’
There was a tiny almost imperceptible lift of her chin. ‘I’ve hung around cops for a long time, Chief Inspector D’Ancey, so, yes, I am pretty good at it, as I imagine you are too.’
He leaned back in his chair in an indolent manner. ‘What do you make of me so far?’ he asked.
She pursed her lips for a moment as she considered her reply. ‘You like control.’
His expression remained slightly mocking. ‘What police officer doesn’t?’
‘You are also unhappy about me being here to investigate Ethan Jenson’s death,’ she said, ‘but I haven’t yet ascertained why.’
His gaze locked on hers again but Eloise couldn’t help noticing the way his right thumb began clicking the pen again. ‘Maybe I have something against Australians,’ he offered dryly.
She tilted her head. ‘Or maybe you have something against women—professional women in particular.’
She was good, Lachlan had to hand it to her. She was perceptive but far too attractive for his liking. Not to mention her attitude. She stood up to him in a way few people did, which both intrigued and irritated him.
‘I have no problem with career-women as long as they play by the rules,’ he said.
‘Those would be your rules, I take it?’ she put in pertly.
His mouth tightened before he could stop it. ‘I am used to being in charge, Dr Hayden,’ he said. ‘It comes with the title of Chief Inspector. What I say goes.’
‘I am here to review the findings of what has been an unexpected death of an Australian citizen,’ she said. ‘I don’t anticipate there being any compromise over protocol. I know how to conduct myself both professionally and personally.’
A taut silence thickened the air for a few pulsing seconds.
‘I also know how to deal with difficult colleagues,’ she added when he didn’t speak.
One of his dark brows lifted. ‘You are suggesting I am going to be a difficult colleague?’
She resettled in her chair. ‘You are showing all the classic signs of being one.’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2 Page 33
