“Yes, I know.”
He takes another swig of his drink, and I ball my hand into a fist on my lap, desperate for him to carry on.
“Mr Peterson recorded the last conversation he had with you, and you clearly said that you hadn’t touched your account for months. Do you remember saying that?”
I nod.
“So, can you confirm something for me? Have you tried to access your account on any occasion since you’ve been here in the United States.”
I shake my head. “No. I haven’t been here very long, and like I said, I haven’t accessed my account for months.”
He frowns. “I need you to think real hard about that statement. It’s important. Do you think maybe you could’ve accessed your account and then forgotten about it? I mean, you must’ve needed money at some point.”
“No, I’m not mistaken. There would’ve been next to no money coming into that account. My mom paid for my plane tickets to come over, and I sold off all my dad’s furniture and belongings so I had cash to bring with me. Then I found a job right after I got here, so I haven’t tried to access that account at all.”
He squeezes his lips together and inhales. “Okay. I have another question. Have you visited the library since you’ve been here?”
“The library?” I shake my head. “No, it’s on my to do list, but I haven’t had a chance yet.”
“Okay,” he says, picking up the remainder of his bagel and pushing the whole lot in his mouth.
I tap my foot on the floor while I wait for him to start talking again. He wipes his chin with the napkin and then looks back at me. “The bank says someone tried to access your account about a week ago, and they tracked down the IP address of the computer used.”
He picks up his coffee cup, drains the contents and then leans back in his chair. “That IP address is from a computer here in the US.”
“Here?”
He nods. “Just a few minutes from here, actually; the Public Library.”
My eyes widen.
“So, if you’re absolutely sure it wasn’t you, I need to know who you’ve shared your account details with.”
“No one.”
“Is there any way Dominic could’ve got hold of them?”
“No. I’ve only met him briefly….” My voice drifts as I’m hit with the memory of my bag falling over and spilling its contents when I found the butterfly brooch from Dad. I thought it was odd at the time because I always, always, leave my bag zipped up. But I was so chuffed about finding the brooch, that small detail faded into the background. The evening before, Harriet was out and Mom came up to my room to beg me to go and say hi to Dominic. That means he would’ve been alone in the kitchen with my bag.
“Emily?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know … maybe he got hold of them somehow. But it doesn’t make sense. Dominic’s a rich man. I came over here because I couldn’t support myself back home, so why would Dominic be interested in a bank account with next to no money in it?”
“I know. It doesn’t make much sense to me either. But the facts are he, or someone else, has managed to get hold of your bank details, and tapped into your account only a few miles from here.”
Chapter 24
The sun streams in through the café windows and the smell of coffee hangs in the air. Riley sings along to the GooGoo Dolls as he fixes coffees from the beast, Lois is busy putting sauces, napkins and condiments on the tables and I’m stood at the counter slicing cheese ready for the breakfast bagels.
It’s not long before I hear Nate’s footsteps on the stairs. His face is still flushed from his early morning run and his hair is damp from the shower.
It annoys me how I still get butterflies whenever I look at him.
He’s been true to his word about leaving me alone. Whenever we talk, it’s strictly limited to work, discussing orders, stock and hygiene training. But there are times when I catch him watching me; when he leaves it a fraction too long before looking away, and I wonder if I’m being unfair to him by working here.
“Any response from TripAdvisor on those reviews yet?” Riley asks as he slides a coffee in front of Nate.
Nate shakes his head. “No. Nothing yet. The upside is our regulars have been busy leaving glowing reviews, so the negative ones have been pretty much buried.”
“Awesome,” Riley says. “I was chatting with Pete and Marco yesterday and they were furious about it. They said they were going to leave some honest five-star reviews. I guess word got out and other customers did the same.”
The peace is disturbed when the front door flies open with such ferocity, the bell nearly flies off its mount. I snap my head up to see Harriet striding towards us with her cheeks all red and her hair flying behind her.
“Harriet?” I abandon the cheese grater. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”
She shakes her head, frowning.
I’m aware of Nate moving closer to my side as she reaches the counter.
“Is it Mom?”
“No, she’s fine.”
“What’s happened then? Tell me.”
“It’s Dominic,” she says through gritted teeth. “He’s out of jail. He just phoned Mom to let her know.”
“Oh no.” A ball of weight attaches itself to my chest.
“I can’t believe the idiots let him out.” She throws her palms up in the air. “It’s crazy. Mom’s really happy of course. She’s still convinced he’s innocent.”
“Did he get out on bail then?”
“Yes. The judge set it high, but that’s not a problem for a rich guy like Dominic, is it? It’s a fucking joke.”
Nate shakes his head. “Which way did he plea at the arraignment?”
She fills her cheeks with air and then blows it all out in one big puff. “Not guilty.”
“So, what happens now?” I say, recovering my composure and wiping my hands on a cloth. “We just wait?”
“I guess.”
Riley leans forward and slides a coffee in front of Harriet.
“Oh, thanks,” she says, when she realises it’s for her.
We stand in collective silence for a few moments before Nate speaks up. “So, do the detectives think this Dominic character flew over to London and killed your dad himself?”
Harriet shakes her head. “No. He couldn’t have. He didn’t leave the country at all in March. They think he got someone else to do it. They found searches on his laptop for hiring a hitman in the UK. He also had the address of the house in London, photos and layouts of the house as well as other incriminating stuff.” She sighs. “They didn’t have any suspects at all for six months, then they get one with a motive and incriminating evidence on his computer, and they just let him out.”
I reach out and squeeze her upper arm. She places her hand on top of mine and holds it in place for a few seconds before letting go and picking up her coffee. She blows across the top before taking a sip. “Damn, this coffee’s good, I’ll have to come in here more often.”
Chapter 25
“Yes!” Nate punches the air.
“What is it?” Riley asks.
“TripAdvisor have agreed with me and removed all the malicious reviews. “They say they’ve found out they were all left using the same computer and they’re going to investigate further.”
“That’s awesome, bro.”
I’m smiling as my phone buzzes in my apron pocket. Pulling it out, I see Ramirez’s name flash up and my heart sinks.
I take a deep breath, swipe my phone to accept the call and head out onto the back patio.
“Hello.”
“Emily, it’s Detective Ramirez.”
“Oh, hi, what’s going on? Have you got some news for me?”
“Yes. You’re aware we’ve been trying to review the CCTV footage from the public library to see who was using the computer at the time your account was accessed?”
“And was it him?” My stomach muscles tense. “Was it Dominic?”
He sighs. �
��I don’t know. I’m sorry, Emily. I wish I could tell you who it was but, none of the cameras in that section of the library were working that day.”
My shoulders sag. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m afraid I’m not. Some sort of cabling issue, apparently.”
I sigh. “So, did you question the staff? Did any of them remember seeing someone using the computer?”
“It’s a huge library, Miss Everett. Hundreds of people are in and out of that place on a daily basis. Without CCTV, there’s no way the staff could pinpoint who would have been using a certain computer at a specific time.”
I rub at my forehead. “So, you’re no further forward then?”
“Not in that respect.”
“And meanwhile the judge has let Dominic out on bail.”
“Oh, you heard about that. I was just about to inform you. He’s got one of the best lawyers in California representing him, so it’s no real surprise.”
He stops speaking for a moment and in the background I hear a dozen phones ringing and a cacophony of raised voices. How does anyone manage to get anything done in a workplace like that?
“Emily, listen, I need you to tell me where you were on Saturday afternoon.”
“Me? Uh … I would have been working at the café until two, and then I went to the beach on my own for a bit. Why?”
“Can someone else confirm that for you?”
“Well, when I was at work I was with three colleagues, and obviously, there were plenty of customers here. But when I went to the beach I was on my own.”
“Of course you were….” His tone is prickly.
“I’m sorry. Is there a problem?”
“I need you to remember if you saw anyone you knew, who might be able to confirm that you were at the beach when you say you were.”
“Why?”
He takes an audible breath. “Something interesting has come to light.”
“Oh. What’s that?”
“When I went to the library to request the CCTV footage showing the computer, the manager told me someone else had requested information for the same PC.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They wanted details of the person who used the computer with the same IP address we’re interested in.”
“That’s odd.”
“And the timeframe they requested clashes with the one we requested.”
My heart starts to tap out a faster rhythm. “That can’t be a coincidence. Did you find out who requested it?”
“Yes.”
He leaves an annoying pause.
“Well, who was it?”
“Miss Everett, have you heard of the review site, TripAdvisor?”
I catch my breath. “Yes, of course I’ve heard of them.”
“Yes, of course you have.” His tone has switched from prickly to patronising. “TripAdvisor requested the footage because they’re investigating malicious reviews left for a café not far from here called O’Shea’s Place. Now there’s a coincidence for you. O’Shea’s Place – the café where you suggested we meet for coffee the other day. The café you also happen to work at.”
My head spins as I try to make sense of the facts. “So, do you think the same person who’s been accessing the bank account also left the malicious reviews for O’Shea’s Place?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“But … it doesn’t make any sense.”
His tone changes from patronising to cold. “I don’t really care about the TripAdvisor reviews, Emily. We were only interested in finding out who’s been accessing your bank account, but the fact that both events happened together has made us look at things differently. I’m definitely going to need confirmation you were where you say you were on Saturday afternoon.”
“Why do you need proof of my whereabouts? How will that help anything?”
He doesn’t say anything and my breath hitches in my throat when I realise what he’s thinking.
“Wait a minute. You don’t think it was me using that computer in the library, do you?”
“I have to consider the possibility.”
I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself. “So, let me get this straight. Am I a suspect now?”
He sounds tired. “No, Miss Everett. You are not a suspect. I just need to determine if you’re a reliable witness, that’s all.”
His words are like a slap around the face and I can’t think of a suitable response.
“I need you to get confirmation of your whereabouts to me as soon as possible, Miss Everett. If there are any updates in the meantime, I’ll be in touch.”
I hit the button to cut off the call and bang the phone down on the table.
“Em?” Nate has been watching from the doorway. “Is everything okay?”
I shake my head and sink down onto a seat. “Not really.”
“Can I?” he says, walking over and hovering his hand on the back of a chair.
I nod and he pulls the chair out and sits down. “What was all that about?”
I take a deep breath. “That was a detective calling about Dad’s case. Someone tried to access the bank account I used to share with Dad and he thinks it was the same person who left the bad reviews for here.”
Nate’s brows arch upwards. “What?”
“And I’m pretty sure Detective Ramirez thinks I’m the person responsible.”
“Why would he think that?”
I shrug. “Because I’m linked to both the bank account and the café, so I guess he’s going with the most obvious answer.”
“That’s crazy.” He reaches an arm in my direction but then thinks better of it, drawing it back to his side. “It’s obvious it wasn’t you.”
I frown.
“I mean it, Em. I don’t believe for a minute it could have been you.”
I squeeze my lips into a smile. “Thank you for saying that. I just hope this doesn’t screw the case up. If they think I’ve lied, they might stop following that lead. It could be the one thing they need to convict Dominic, or whoever else is guilty.”
“I know it sucks, but you need to try and prove to them it wasn’t you. Then they can forget about it and move on properly.”
“I get why they’re confused. I mean, I am too. It doesn’t make sense that Dominic would be interested in the bank account I used to share with Dad. Dominic’s filthy rich and there was hardly any money in it. Everything got swallowed up with bills each month. And why would he be worried about ruining the reputation of this café? It doesn’t add up.”
Nate shakes his head. “It doesn’t. It’s probably just a coincidence. There can’t be anyone involved in your Dad’s murder who also has some kind of grudge against this café.”
I nod. “You’re right.” I stand up so I can get back to work, but the blood freezes in my veins.
“Em, what is it?”
“Uh … no … it’s nothing.”
I feel him watching me, so I meet his eyes. “I just thought of someone with a link, but I know I’m wrong. It can’t be them.”
“Who?”
“No, I’m being stupid. Ignore me. My head’s all over the place and I’m jumping to wild conclusions.”
“Em?” He holds my gaze and I feel myself crumble. I purse my lips and blow out a shaky breath. “I was trying to think who might have a grudge against this café, and Rachel sprang to mind.”
Nate pulls a puzzled expression. “Who’s Rachel?”
“My mom ... she’s not a big fan of me working here.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “But it can’t be her. She wouldn’t have wanted Dad killed.”
Nate frowns. “Of course not.”
“She loved him,” I carry on. “She even wanted to get back with him.”
“I remember you telling me.”
“Harriet said it broke her heart when he said no.” I close my eyes as phrases from her medical report spring to mind; ‘intensely sensitive to rejection,’ ‘inappropriate anger….’
I slump back d
own in my chair. “What if it was her, though? What if she left the reviews for O’Shea’s Place because she was jealous of me working here, and what if she hired a hitman to kill Dad because he rejected her?”
Nate lowers his voice. “Being rejected isn’t a reason for a rational person to kill someone….”
A tear runs down my cheek before I can stop it. I bat it away with the back of my hand.
“She’s not rational, Nate.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“Being abandoned or rejected is devastating to someone like her.”
“How do you mean – someone like her?”
I dig my nails into my hands. “She’s not well. She’s got this illness called borderline personality disorder.”
He looks confused.
“It means she has trouble managing her emotions. Her relationships with other people can be … intense.” I wipe away another tear. “Everyone’s different obviously, but she’s on the severe end of the spectrum.”
“But even so ... murder’s quite a leap.”
“I know, I know.”
He frowns. “This is your mom we’re talking about, Em. You know her better than most. Do you really think she could be capable of murder?”
“Yes … No.” Oh hell, I don’t know. I press my hands together in a prayer-like stance and bang my fingers against my lips. “I really don’t know her very well at all, Nate. When she moved here she had nothing to do with me for five years. I only saw her for the first time in March, just after Dad died.”
Nate sits back as he digests this. “She just left you behind? She didn’t stay in touch or anything?”
I shake my head.
“Damn, Em. I didn’t know that.”
“I’ve witnessed a bit of her irrational behaviour since I’ve been here, but Harriet told me she gets violent mood swings that can last for days. And when she’s like that she’s not in control of her impulses.”
He reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
“I’ve read her medical notes. Her doctor was trying to help her deal with her feelings of rejection. It mentioned in the report how she swung between idolisation of people to intense hatred.” I sit up straighter on the chair and do an involuntary shiver.
The Cold Hard Truth: A Gripping Novel About Secrets and Lies Page 15
