Chasing Can Be Murder

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Chasing Can Be Murder Page 18

by June Whyte


  The moment I stepped into the bright sunny kitchen my teeth started rattling. I blinked. Put two fingers in my ears. Sheesh. If this was life with multiple children, count me out. One toddler hung over the side of his high chair singing at the top of his voice while busy stuffing spaghetti up his nose. And beside him, in an identical highchair, his sister, mouth open wider than a garage door, screamed with the force of an approaching hurricane. Not that anyone paid her any mind.

  Mick, back to his effusive self, loped across the room and slipped both arms around a slim woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties. Elegant, hair cut and layered to stay in place under all circumstance, she was dressed for an afternoon at the theatre instead of feed time at the zoo. Mick bent to kiss the top of the woman’s head. “And this stunning woman with the face of an angel,” he gushed, “is my ever-loving wife, Beth.”

  Expression frosty, Beth shrugged his arm off and went on stuffing spaghetti into a series of bird-like mouths lined up in high chairs beside the table. Hmm…evidently things weren’t all well-cultivated roses and daffodils in the Harrison garden.

  “Sorry I can’t shake hands,” she said, glancing up from her task. “But as you can see, they’re kinda messy.” Her smile was contagious, like that of a cult leader. If she’d asked me to clean her shoes, go weed the garden, bake a cake, I’d have scuttled off to do her bidding. Instead, I smiled back. Which was my first big mistake. It meant I took my eyes off the nearest Harrison, the tow-headed baby who was glaring intently up at me from behind his Humphrey B Bear bib. Consequently I didn’t see the two handfuls of spaghetti arching through the air. The stringy pulpy mess plastered my eyes and dribbled down over my nose onto to my chin and ended up on my plum-colored top.

  “Eddy! No!” Beth waved an admonishing finger at the baby with the good right-arm pitch before handing me a roll of kitchen paper. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized shaking her head. “It’s just a phase Eddy’s going through right now. He has to throw everything he picks up. I’m dreading the time when he’s strong enough to lift the furniture.” She let loose with that killer smile again. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Er…perhaps Kat could clean herself up in the bathroom,” Ben suggested giving me what he probably thought was a subtle elbow in the ribs but in reality made me wince.

  “Yes, of course.” Beth pointed through the kitchen doorway before returning to the job of scooping food from five baby bowls into five screaming baby mouths. The two “beasties” were assisting her by filling seven glasses with milk, which mostly ended up on the floor. “Bathroom’s the last door on the left.”

  Adroitly dodging another fully loaded spaghetti missile, I stuck my tongue out at Eddy and hurried through the kitchen doorway, only to skid on a pool of milk. God, no way would Erin be in this house. The last thing these people needed was another child. Still, on the way to the bathroom I ducked into every room and had a quick poke around, just in case. Other than wall-to-wall kid stuff that included weird things I didn’t know existed, the only item of interest was a cupboard brimming with Mick’s shoes, all size 14, no mud, and branded with names I’d never afford.

  A death-defying stink pervaded the bathroom at the end of the passageway. A stink so sickening I could barely breathe. Almost threw up while washing spaghetti off my face and dabbing ineffectually at my ruined top. The smell seemed to be coming from a pile of something brown in the far corner of the bath. I peered closer. Oh god, I thought, backing away in a hurry, I must ask Ben if there was any history of multiple births on his side of the family. If so, I’d join a nunnery. Abstain from sex for life. In fact, I reckon a visit to the Harrison household should be a compulsory subject on all high school curriculums.

  Disappointed at the lack of clues, I glanced down at my watch while hurrying back into the war zone the Harrisons called a kitchen, so didn’t see the silver spoon until it landed on its target. Pain radiated from my nose and I let out a yelp. Of course that set the up-and-coming, All-Australian pitcher laughing so hard he wet his nappy. Wiping tears from my eyes with the back of one hand, I grabbed Ben by the back of the shirt and dragged him in the direction of the passage leading to the front door.

  “It’s quarter to four,” I told him and shot a quick smile at Beth. “Lovely to meet you Mrs. Harrison, but we’re due back at my house at four o’clock so we’d better get moving.”

  Before I grabbed hold of Baby Eddy’s head and demonstrated the art of throwing a curve ball...

  The moment Ben pulled out of the driveway and set the van in the direction of home, I shook my head and sighed. “What a total waste of time and effort.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

  “But there was no evidence,” I wailed. “No motive. Not even a stray red herring swimming around the house. Nothing, except wall-to-wall kids and a smelly pile of baby doo that put me off parenthood for life. Hell, with all that procreating, Mick Harrison wouldn’t have time to reada good murder mystery let alone plan and execute one.”

  “What would you say if I told you our Father of the Year knows how to make time when necessary?” said Ben.

  “Go on.”

  “While you were in the bathroom, I casually asked him where he was at 3 a.m. last Thursday morning, the time Matt was murdered. He said he was at home in bed with his beautiful wife.”

  “And…”

  “His beautiful wife didn’t corroborate her husband’s statement. She said he didn’t get home until 4 a.m., then promptly threw the remains of little Eddy’s bowl of spaghetti at Mick’s head.” Ben’s lips twitched. “That’s why you only copped the spoon.”

  22

  The moment we walked through my front door, the flashing red light on the answering machine caught my eye. It would have to wait. First I needed an ultra-strong blast of caffeine to clear my head.

  While I selected a largish mug from the cupboard and switched on the electric jug, Ben hooked a carton of milk from the fridge, pushed up the spout and threw half the contents down his throat in one go.

  We hadn’t heard from Dan—so Erin must still be missing. Hopefully Dan had already contacted the police and they were out searching for her too.

  “It’s not likeDevil’s Spawn to be staying out overnight,” I mused shaking my head. The more I thought about Erin running away from home, the more it didn’t add up. “We’re talking about a kid who squirts bugs with insect spray till she drowns the critters. Can you honestly see her sleeping in someone’s dirty, spider-infested garden shed, just to get back at Tanya for not taking her to Melbourne in the plane?”

  Ben shook his head slowly, then with brotherly affection lobbed one arm around my shoulders and hitched my body up against his. “Don’t knock yourself out, mate. Everyone’s searching for Erin. And just like those crazy purple and yellow socks you reckon you lost last week—the kid will turn up.”

  I smiled into Ben’s warm familiar face, complete with yesterday’s stubble and the cute dimple he refused to acknowledge. When he didn’t seem in any hurry to remove his arm, I snuggled closer and rested my cheek on the soft flannel of his shirt, let the tangy smell of his aftershave overrun my senses. The softness of his lips with that dribble of milk in one corner had me itching to reach up and lick the milk off, explore his mouth further. He returned my smile, the weather lines around his eyes crinkling. And then a strange thing happened. His eyes lost their brotherly affection, became confused and then ignited with something close to surprise. It was as though Ben Taylor was seeing me for the very first time. Really seeing me. He leaned in. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Ben was going to kiss me.

  A deep gravelly voice from the next room broke the spell.

  “Is that you in there, Katrina?”

  I grabbed a quick half-breath. Gave Ben a rueful half-grin as he reluctantly dropped his arm and straightened up. “Yeah, it’s me. Who wants to know?”

  Still floating on Ben’s almost-kiss, I drifted into the lounge, the jar of Nescafe still clasped in my hand. Scu
zz was parked in my largest armchair, his huge leather-clad body jammed in like a cork in a bottle. Before speaking, I bit down a curse at the guy’s poor timing.

  “Hi, Scuzz,” I said and smiled at little Tater snoring on the big guy’s lap. “Where’s Lucky?”

  At the mention of her name a black face popped out from under the coffee table and regarded me with large mournful eyes.

  “She had an accident,” whispered Scuzz from behind his hand, trying not to let Lucky hear him. “Please don’t be cross with her. Remember, she has only been a house pet for less than twenty-four hours. And it was no drama. I cleaned up the mess and sprayed the room with some of that nice smelling deodorant I found in your bathroom.”

  “Oh, Lucky.” I knelt on the floor beside her, feeling guilty as I ran my hand over the top of her head and gently pulled at her ears.

  “There was no way she could get out through your Chihuahua sized doggy door,” explained Scuzz.

  With so much going on, I hadn’t given a thought to how Lucky intended to go to the bathroom when I wasn’t around. I’d get Jake to make a larger doggy door leading into the back yard first thing in the morning.

  It took a tummy rub and much scratching behind both ears to return the sparkle to the black greyhound’s eyes. Mission accomplished, I stood up and waved the coffee jar at Scuzz.

  “Drink?”

  “I hope you don’t mind my presumption, Katrina, but I helped myself to a coffee when I arrived.” The posh voice emanating from the rough biker body got me every time.

  I smiled at him. “Hey, of course I don’t mind.”

  “And I’m glad you’re not upset with Lucky,” he continued, leaning back in the armchair. “Even Short Stuff here has trouble squeezing through that doggy door.” He studied the sleeping dog on his lap. “Are you sure you didn’t measure a hamster when you had the door installed?”

  “Thanks for taking care of Lucky, Scuzz. You’re a champ.” I bent down to give the biker a thank you kiss on the cheek, but he turned his head. My lips slid over several nose rings, brushed against soft whiskers, and came to rest on his even softer mouth. It tasted of coffee and toothpaste and heat—lots and lots of heat. The thank youkiss ended in a well,hello there,kiss that had me gasping for air and grabbing onto the arm of the chair to prevent my legs from buckling.

  “Hey, what’s taking you so long in there, Kat?”

  I straightened up, slightly dizzy, slightly confused at how good Scuzz’s mouth felt on mine and slightly anxious about Ben’s reaction if he discovered me locking lips with my bodyguard.

  Holy Catfish! Was I turning into a nymphomaniac? Not content with one, I’d gone weak in the knees over two guys in the space of two minutes.

  Thankfully missing the highlight of the show, Ben trundled in, carton of milk in hand. He came to a sudden halt when he spotted Scuzz making himself at home in my armchair.

  “Oh, it’syou!” Ben scowled and narrowed his eyes. “Thought I could smell something off when I came through the front door.” Ignoring Ben’s comments, Scuzz watched me wrestle with my emotions. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and his eyes informed me there was plenty more where that came from. And I only had to say the word.

  “Anyway, who let you in?” Ben persisted. “Or do gorillas swing through windows?”

  Scuzz rolled both shoulders and cracked his knuckles, as though limbering up for a fight, and then gently pulled at Tater’s tiny ears instead. This guy was such an enigma. And his mouth was so hot my lips were tingling. But I had to forget about his hot mouth and his sexy nose rings and his erotically soft beard. It was Ben I wanted.

  Well, wasn’t it?

  “Good afternoon, Benjamin,” Scuzz said quirking one eyebrow at the raging inferno framing the door. “My cousin, Jake, had some chores to attend to in the dog-shed, so he gave me the key to the house and told me to wait inside.”

  “Hmmph…” Ben growled.

  Scuzz shifted his dark gaze onto me, suddenly serious. “Any sign of the little girl? Jake and I visited her school, but no one has seen her since yesterday.”

  I shook my head. “We came up empty-handed too. When Dan gets here, he’ll have to contact the police, if he hasn’t already. Erin’s been missing far too long, and for Dan’s sake, I hope he’s let Tanya know what’s going on.”

  “There may be an important message from Dan on your answering machine,” said Scuzz. “It was blinking when I came in ten minutes ago.”

  “What? You’re Kat’s secretary now are you?” Ben snapped.

  Grunting and twisting his unwieldy body, Scuzz managed to pull himself free from the armchair. He stood up, put Tater gently on the floor, and lumbered across the room.

  “I’ll make you a nice cup of coffee, shall I,” he said, taking the coffee jar from my hand as he passed by, “while you listen to your messages.”

  “Uh. Thanks. Milk and two sugars,” I called out, switching on the answering machine while eyeing his well-muscled rear end as he lumbered across the room toward the kitchen.

  Back off! I scolded my hormones firmly. I was in love with Ben yet I was feasting my eyes on Scuzz and imagining him naked with his hands and his heat and his mouth all over me. Phew!I blamed my recently broken vibrator for the sudden rise in libido.

  The answering machine crackled, spat out its usual spiel and then coughed.

  “I have your friend’s daughter. If you want her to stay alive do exactly as I tell you.”

  I froze. All extraneous thoughts evaporating as the chilly words, muffled and hoarse, echoed and re-echoed around the now silent room.

  And then Erin’s thin reedy voice, stuttering with fear, trickled from the machine.

  “K-Kat,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I’m scared. I don’t like it here. There’s a mean man and he’s going to hurt me real bad if you don’t do what he says. Kat, I want my mum and I want—”

  “Big Mistake must lose.” The muffled voice broke in. I could hear a squeaking or grunting noise in the background. “If the dog wins you’ll find the kid’s tongue in the mail. Inform the police of this phone call and I won’t stop at her tongue.”

  With that the message clicked off.

  The silence that followed was thicker than pea soup. This couldn’t be happening. Not in sleepy Two Wells, where a night on the town meant eating a giant feed of fish and chips from the local take-away shop then catching up at the Two Wells pub for a drink and a chat about how well the footy team played on Saturday. Bad things like murder and kidnapping weren’t part of the town’s social fabric.

  Face pale under his tan, Ben’s gaze sought mine. “Was that the same guy who spoke to you on the phone after Matt was killed?”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t tell. The voice was too muffled.

  Grimly, Ben turned to Scuzz, all animosity gone. “Any chance of helping us find Matt’s murderer, mate?”

  “I’m with you, one hundred percent.”

  23

  Five minutes later I heard a car rumble up the driveway and come to a stop. A bundle of nerves, I tweaked the curtain to one side and peeped through the window.

  Oh, no!

  “It’s Dan,” I gasped. “And Tanya’s with him. She must have caught the first available flight home.”

  My legs, limp celery sticks, wobbled beneath me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. This was my fault. Determined to be an amateur sleuth, I’d put my best friend’s daughter in danger. How in hell could I expose Tanya to the message on my answering machine? How could I stand by and let her listen to Erin’s cry for help?

  Ben joined me and after giving my arm a comforting squeeze, slid the curtain to one side so he could get a better view of the driveway. “Jesus! You wouldn’t read about it, mate,” he growled, talking over his shoulder to Scuzz. “They’ve brought the police with them. Exactly what we didn’t need.”

  As I leaned against Ben, using his solid body instead of the wall to hold me up, Inspector Columbo’s big black bear of a car, whic
h had been following Tanya’s little red Yaris, slowed to a halt outside. Panic bubbled up inside me. If the police discovered Erin had been kidnapped, they’d bring in reinforcements. Alert the media. Call in the SWAT team. And then what would happen to Erin? No good thinking the kidnapper wouldn’t hurt a little girl—he’d already taken one innocent life when he stabbed Matt.

  “…if you inform the police of this phone call I won’t stop at her tongue.”

  The words hammered away in my brain, blocking every lucid thought and leaving behind a red haze of fear and uncertainty.

  I covered my face with my hands. “What are we going to tell the police?” I moaned, struggling not to break down and cry.

  Ben held onto my shoulders, shook me gently. “Come on, Kat, don’t lose it now. You’re our rock. When the Inspector questions us say nothing about the message on your machine. Okay?”

  I pulled away from Ben and staggered to the nearest chair where I collapsed in a heap.

  Some rock!

  Ornaments rattled and danced on their shelves as Scuzz clumped across the room toward me. He perched on the arm of my chair and stroked his fingers lightly across the top of my head, much as he would do if he was comforting one of the dogs. Tension eased from my shoulders as I pressed the top of my head into his large comforting hand. No wonder Tater and Lucky loved him.

  “Hang in there, Katrina,” he crooned. “Our mission is to save the little girl, which means we must watch what we say to the police. That’s all. The constabulary can still go through the motions of searching for her as long as we don’t tell them she’s been kidnapped. You can do it. I have faith in you.”

  And suddenly I didfeel like a rock—or at least one of those little pebbles you find on a nicely raked garden path. I punched him lightly on the arm, between the word Mother and what looked like a tattooed mermaid. “Thanks, Scuzz. I owe you one.”

  His answering wink, in any other circumstances, could have been construed as flirting. “No worries, babe.” And then the arm of my chair groaned as he stood up and turned to Ben. “So, what’s the plan?”

 

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