Trev collected a plastic bag and carefully eased the tissue and its contents inside. “Worth a look. Nothing’s come back on those fingerprints from the cottage but unless the intruder had a record, there’s not many reasons we’d have them on file. Martin mentioned a painting from your ex.”
“It arrived with no note. No phone call. Just the painting. Legally, does that make it mine?”
“Hmm. Until we find out who actually sent it, then I couldn’t say. If this Derek Hobbs did, then as its original owner, it would appear to be a gift. But perhaps it was stolen.”
“I should phone him.”
“Not a good idea. Not until we sort out who is behind the crime spree.”
“You think Derek is?” The phone rang. “I’ll wait.”
“It’s for you,” Trev handed the phone over.
“Oh. Hello?”
“Just me,” Martin said. “Your phone rings through to your voicemail.”
“Probably flat.”
“Charge it. Elizabeth called to ask if we would attend a small gathering tonight at Palmerston House. In our honour.”
“How sweet of her. But will it be small?”
“Apparently Angus talked her out of a general broadcast for the whole town. About ten people, for a couple of hours. So?”
“Seeing that I live there at the moment, I guess I’ll be available. Will you join me?”
“We might need to revisit those living arrangements. But yes, I will.”
Blushing all of a sudden, Christie turned away from Trev, who busied himself at his desk. “What time?”
“Seven or so. Anyway, we’ll catch up before then, but you must charge your phone or I won’t be able to call. Yes?”
“Yes, Martin.”
He chuckled and hung up.
“Thanks, Trev. Do you need me for anything else?”
“No, I’ll update you or Martin as things progress, but if you have any other thoughts, call me.”
Back in her car a few moments later, Christie plugged the phone in to charge. Tonight sounded wonderful. But something still nagged at her from the cottage. Something about that shard she’d stood on.
***
On her way to visit Daphne, Christie’s phone beeped and dinged as messages and missed calls came in. Once she’d parked a few doors down from the real estate agency, she checked them. One from Martin, plus two missed calls and a text message, all from Ashley. The text message was a brief Call me! Was something wrong with Ray? She dialled.
“Two secs, bella,” Ashley spoke to someone on his end. “Sorry. I’m all yours now.”
“Are you okay? Is Ray?”
“We’re fine. But I had a call from Carlo and you need to hear this. Can you talk?”
“Of course. Is something wrong with the shoot? I haven’t heard anything.” Christie unplugged the phone.
“I don’t want to upset you, but apparently he got a call from someone asking about you. About when you are travelling.”
Christie’s stomach churned. Not again. “A woman?”
“A man. Look, it may be nothing, but who would need to know your plans? Carlo thought he was talking to someone on your behalf, you know, to see when you landed in order to pick you up. Does that sound like anyone you know?”
“I was getting a taxi from the airport. I’ve allowed a day to get settled before starting and apart from Carlo’s assistant and Martin, nobody knows about the timing.” She closed her eyes. “This can’t be happening.”
“Carlo is just worried about you. After he got off the call, he felt as though he’d been interrogated. That’s why he called me, in case I knew who it was. Bella, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s checking up on you, because I told him a bit about why you missed that London job. I mean, before he offered you this.”
“I love you. Thanks for looking out for me, but now I don’t know what to do. It must have been Derek.”
“Then I’ll go and see him.”
“Please, no!” Christie opened her eyes and sat bolt upright. “You’re neighbours and I don’t want things being difficult between you.”
Ashley laughed without humour. “Derek and Ray got into it earlier, so there really is no love lost there.”
“What happened?”
“Derek wanted to know how you are and Ray got all defensive and said... oh. Dammit.”
“What?”
“Silly boy. He said that people like me and Carlo still believe in you. I didn’t think Derek would know Carlo.”
“He’d remember the name. Look, there’s been some strange events lately here. Ingrid came to town and pretended to be someone else.”
“She did what?”
“Tried to break us up.”
“Well, I hope she didn’t succeed.” His voice was outraged and now, Christie smiled.
“Not even close. Ash, Martin asked me to marry him and I said yes.”
“Oh, wait until I tell Ray! Congratulations, darling. Are you going to be alright? Can someone go to Auckland with you?”
“You know, if it was Derek, then he won’t follow through. He’s a coward and I will never let him near me again. Please, please don’t worry. I’ll talk to Martin and our local policeman and let them help.”
With a sigh, Ash agreed. “Okay. But we’re here if you need us. And we’ll be there with an amazing wedding gift when you tell us!”
Christie was laughing as they said goodbye and disconnected the call. Her smile turned to a frown. What the hell was going on now?
***
Everything was against him, Rupert decided. He’d barely made it back to River’s End before running out of fuel. Not far from the petrol station, he’d dug up a container and walked the short distance but couldn’t pay. No cash on him, no money in his access account, and now his phone had died, meaning no way to transfer funds. He was directed to the only ATM in town and trudged his way there.
There was plenty of money in the linked account – thousands if Ingrid and Derek did as he told them – yet only an old-fashioned way of getting his hands on it. Hunger gnawed at his stomach and he was sure he was withdrawing from caffeine.
At the bank, he waited behind an old man who took forever to find his glasses, then his card. Eventually, he shuffled away from the ATM. Rupert glanced around. The street was quiet. He inserted his card, tapped in his number, and waited for a balance. Only the same amount as yesterday. Annoying as it was, this probably wasn’t Ingrid or Derek’s fault. Just banking delays. He transferred funds to his access account, withdrew some cash, and headed back to the petrol station.
Fuelled up, he left the car up the road from the corner cafe and pushed open the door, almost running straight into Daphne. “Sorry.” He couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye.
“Oh, no, my fault. Not looking where I’m going.” Daphne peered at him. “You look a little unwell, love. And you should get that cut looked at.”
“Um, just a shaving nick. Here, I’ll get the door.” He opened it quickly, hoping she’d leave, but she didn’t move. Her long stare unsettled him and he shifted his weight between feet. “I’ll bring Julie by next week and we’ll have a look at those houses in the estate. She’s getting a bit desperate before bubba arrives.”
Daphne smiled and stepped through the doorway. “You do that, Rupert. John is always happy to show you around. Bye for now.”
“Goodbye.” Relieved, Rupert let the door close behind her. He needed to leave town.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Outside the real estate agency, Christie spotted Daphne leaving the cafe on the opposite corner. Daphne glanced over her shoulder as she let a car go past, then hurried over, worry lining her normally happy face. Her eyes lit up when she saw Christie, and they managed a kiss to the cheek over the coffees.
“Something isn’t right.” Daphne announced, as Christie opened the door. She put the coffees on the counter. “I just ran into Rupert. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about him that bothers me.�
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“It is odd that he’s still here, instead of home with his wife. All he ever did was talk about Lucy and bubba.”
Her mouth dropped open and Daphne struggled for words. “Did you... Christie, what did you call his wife?”
“Lucy.”
“He just called her Julie.”
“Are you sure? It wasn’t just noisy over there?”
“No, it was Julie. And that made me worry all the way back because I thought there was something wrong about it. What kind of man forgets the name of his own wife?”
Christie’s phone beeped a message and she glanced at it. Ashley.
“And what’s more, he has a cut on his cheek that doesn’t look like any shaving nick I’ve seen!”
The shard. A crunch underfoot near the garage. The cigarette butt near the bushes and the one at the end of the road. Rupert smoked.
“Where is he now?”
“At the cafe.”
Both women rushed to the door. With coffee in one hand and a sandwich bag in the other, Rupert lumbered toward his car. A dark blue sedan.
“Oh, my,” Daphne bristled. “Him!” She reached for the door handle but Christie stopped her.
“Phone Trev and tell him. I’ll get the registration number and text it to him but you need to stay here! We can’t alert him.”
Without giving Daphne time to argue, Christie slipped through the door as he got into the driver’s seat. She darted across the road between cars. As soon as she was close enough, she took a photo of his car’s plate and then pressed herself against a shop window.
She messaged the photo to Trev. Her own car was around the corner and following Rupert would end up in a chase, for he knew the Lotus. If he drove off before Trev got here, all she could do was point in the right direction.
Her phone beeped again. Ashley. This time she read the message. Ray saw Ingrid leave your apartment in a hurry yesterday. Derek was home. Thought you should know. Love from us both.
A siren wailed in the distance. The sedan’s engine roared and Rupert pulled straight out in front of another car. The driver slammed their brakes on, screeching to a halt just in time. Without pausing, the sedan flew along the road toward the mountains. Christie ran to check the driver of the other car, who although pale, waved that they were okay.
Trev’s police car came into view. As he navigated around the stopped car, he wound his window down. “Everyone okay here?”
“Yes, but you need to get Rupert. He went straight ahead.”
The police car accelerated. Daphne and John rushed out and, drawn by the siren, townsfolk appeared on the street. Christie stepped back onto the pavement and the other car continued on its way. Please catch him. This had to stop now.
***
The minute he cleared the town, Trev let the patrol car loose. This was his community and nothing would stop him catching the sedan this time. He’d radioed dispatch, who were alerting the forensic team not to leave River’s End just yet. All he had to do was find Rupert.
Five minutes on and Trev pulled over at the highest point of the road. He could see for kilometres ahead and there was not a car in view. Between town and here, Rupert had gone to ground, most likely down the side road Charlotte Dean had emerged from yesterday.
He doubled back, eyes flicking at each property he passed. There was an empty place with a fading For Sale sign on the front. On a few acres, the house was set back from the road and surrounded by dense bush. A glint at the far end of the driveway got his attention. He backed up and eased the car in.
Ever so slowly he followed the driveway, right past the house, to where a dark blue sedan was backed into bushes. Rupert sat in the front, eating. He dropped his food and pushed the door open. Trev leapt out. “Hold it.”
“Officer. Just having breakfast.” Rupert held his hands up, palms forward. “See, nothing in my hands.”
“Step out slowly.”
“Okay, okay. Man, can’t get a few minutes peace for a quick bite.” Rupert pulled himself out of the car with a grunt.
“Come to the front of the car.”
“What’d I do? You can’t arrest me for having breakfast.”
“Bit late for breakfast. What are you doing parked here? This is private property.”
“It’s for sale. I’ve been looking for a house to buy for my wife—”
“Cut the bull. You’ve been identified as a person of interest in a break and enter.”
“Me? No. I—”
“You’ve been drinking. I can smell it from here. Don’t move.” Trev looked in the car. “Interesting. That looks like a bottle of Chivas Regal. In fact, exactly like one stolen last night.”
“I bought that.”
“Where?”
“Local bottle shop.”
Trev snorted. “Telling the truth will be better in the long run. Stay put, I’m going to do a breath test.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll be having a chat about what you are really doing in River’s End.”
***
Too excited to go back inside, Christie and Daphne waited on the pavement outside the real estate agency. John brought Daphne her coffee and squeezed her arm. “You’ve done well.” With a kiss, he returned to work.
“I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” Christie put an arm around Daphne’s shoulders. “Trev will get him.”
“Oh, lovely, it wasn’t just me! All of your brand new appliances! And the poor family going into the estate. We’ve arranged for the mess to be cleared up but they are rather shocked. This doesn’t happen in River’s End!”
“No. And I’m so sorry.” Christie dropped her arm. “I’m sure Derek is behind it.”
“Well, shame on him! And thank goodness you escaped his clutches in time.”
Christie grinned at Daphne’s outrage. She played with her ring and, noticing the movement, Daphne looked at her hand. She squealed and Christie jumped. “What?”
Daphne grabbed Christie’s hand. “Oh! He did it and you said yes! This is the best day! Oh, congratulations, I always knew you were right for each other.” She inspected the ring. “So beautiful!”
“Thank you. George made it.”
“Well, of course he did. And it is just as special as Martha’s ring. Now, tell me all about the proposal. Was it romantic?”
“Of course. But, oh look! There’s Trev.” As he slowly drove past, Trev nodded, then grinned. In the back seat, Rupert turned his head away.
“He got him!” Christie smiled at Daphne, who stared after the police car. “Hopefully, he’ll find out who is really behind it.”
Daphne burst into tears.
John pushed the door open. “Was that Trev? Oh, Daph...” He patted her on the back. “Didn’t he get him?”
“He did, John. I think Daphne’s a bit overwhelmed.” Christie took her hand. “Let’s go inside.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I am a bit shaky, that’s all.”
“Let’s go, doll.” John accepted her hand from Christie with a small smile of thanks. “I’ll make you a fresh cuppa.” Daphne let him lead her inside. Christie took a moment to gather her own jumbled emotions. She had to let Trev know about the text from Ashley.
***
The forensics team left in a hurry when the call came through about Trev’s pursuit. As much as he knew they were just doing their job, Martin was glad to see them go. He’d flatly refused to let them touch anything but the door, the fridge, and the windows. An hour of cleaning almost had the studio back to normal and he opened the windows to clear the smell of ammonia.
Randall wandered in, sniffed the air and left again. Martin saw him settle under a tree near the path to the beach. The day was warm and the humidity was rising, indicating a coming change in the weather. Going out to the shed, he found a replacement door lock.
Halfway through installing it, Christie rang.
“What’s going on in town? The boys here took off in a hurry.”
“
Trev caught him!”
“Caught who?”
“Rupert. Daphne and I figured out that he wasn’t who he said he was and then he took off and Trev chased him down.” Christie filled Martin in on the events of the past hour.
“So, is there a trail to Derek?” Martin went to check Randall. “Has Rupert said anything?”
“I only saw Trev for a moment, just to tell him about the shard theory and about Ingrid being at Derek’s place. That last bit got him animated and he was going to call someone in Melbourne straight away. He’s like a man possessed.”
“You still sound stressed.”
Christie sighed. “What if Derek is behind this? I’d feel responsible for what’s happened to Daphne—”
“Stop. Blaming yourself is pointless and unnecessary.” Martin squatted next to Randall, who rolled over to expose his chest for a scratch. “There isn’t a person in town who would hold you accountable for someone else’s actions, so stop doing it. Got me?”
“Hmm. Yes.”
“That isn’t very convincing.”
“How about a sail?”
Martin chuckled. “Are you changing the subject? Do you mean today?”
“I could be ready in half an hour.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ve got to change the lock and some other stuff, and besides, the weather will turn later.”
“Okay, well what about just going to Jasmine Sea? Row out and sit there for a bit.”
“Tempting.”
“That means no. Fine, maybe I’ll just row myself out there and sunbathe on the bow.” Christie teased.
“You’re going to row?”
“Not nice. If I don’t practice I’ll never get better. But that’s fine, I might just indulge myself with a visit to the beauty salon instead.”
“What beauty salon?”
“I meant the hairdressers.”
What are you up to? There was something in the way she spoke that made Martin wonder. He’d seen the For Sale notice in the window.
“Shall we meet at Palmerston House?” Christie asked. “Seeing as I live there?”
Jasmine Sea Page 21
