by Morgana Best
I nodded slowly. “I do see your point. Yes, that does make sense. Would anyone like some coffee or a glass of wine? Maybe both?”
Oleander opted for coffee while Athanasius opted for chardonnay. I opted for both. After all, I was probably still dehydrated so I needed as much liquid as I could get.
“And there’s that thing with the American spelling,” Athanasius said.
“What was that?” I yelled over the sound of the rain and the coffee machine.
Athanasius walked over to me and said in my ear, “You told us that the word realize was typed with a z rather than an s. The murderer used American spelling.”
I stopped grinding the coffee beans and turned to him. “This is really bad. We don’t have any American suspects.”
Oleander was dismayed. “Athanasius means that the murderer was using American spelling, for whatever reason. That should help us narrow it down.”
“But how?” I said. “Do we go to their homes and rifle through their things and see which one of the suspects uses American spelling?” I broke off with a laugh, but my breath caught in my throat when I thought they might suggest exactly that. To my relief, they did not.
“No, of course not,” Oleander said. “It’s just something we should consider.”
I made the coffee and placed the cups on a tray, along with two wine glasses and the bottle of chardonnay which I quickly fished from the refrigerator. “Lots of people use American spelling. Even Aussies on TV use American pronunciation. The TV presenters usually say schedule with a hard ch whereas Aussies should use a soft ch. Most people watch so much American TV.”
Both Oleander and Athanasius looked crestfallen, so I added, “But it is a really good lead. We will have to bear that in mind.”
“And we also found out that Georgia spent six months in Hollywood a few years ago,” Oleander said. “Maybe she picked up American spelling then. You know, I really think she did it.”
I thought it was all rather tenuous, but I didn’t want to upset Oleander. Instead I said, “You may be right.”
No sooner had I placed the tray on the table, than there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Athanasius asked me.
“Goldie won’t know until she opens the door,” Oleander said with a roll of her eyes. “She might be a witch, but she’s not psychic.”
I opened the door, pleased to see Max. “I tried to call you earlier,” he began, but then he looked past me to where Oleander and Athanasius were in full view. “You have company.”
Was it my imagination, but did he sound a little disappointed?”
“Come in.” I opened the door for him to enter. “Oh my goodness, you’re drenched. Would you like a towel?” Without waiting for him to answer, I raced out of the room and fetched two towels which I thrust at him. He put one on the sofa and sat on it, and then towelled his hair with the other one.
Athanasius and Oleander stared fixedly at him, and I knew they were wondering what he was doing there. I just hoped they wouldn’t ask him. That would be awfully embarrassing. A rather strange silence settled upon us, until Max said, “How is Paddy doing?”
“He’s annoying Persnickle no end,” I said. “He likes to sit on him.”
“Persnickle will be sad and miss him when he goes, I’m sure,” Max said. “Look at the two of them there.”
Persnickle and Paddy were curled up together in front of the TV which was not switched on. I expect Persnickle was exhausted from giving his little friend a ride around the house.
“I don’t know if he will miss him,” I said. “I think he finds him rather irritating.”
“Enid will be able to have Paddy back any day now, I’m sure,” Oleander said. “I called in on her earlier. She is awfully grateful to you, Goldie.”
I waved a hand in dismissal. “That’s fine. He’s been no trouble at all,” I lied.
Another knock on the door made me jump. Max looked startled, and I’m sure he thought what I did, that it was the mysterious man who had pulled him out of my house previously.
“Quick, hide the coffee,” Max said. He and Athanasius took both cups to the kitchen. I figured they were covering the coffee machine with a cloth, and then Max stuck his head around the kitchen and gave the thumbs up.
However, it was not a man but a woman. I opened the door and stared at her. She was standing there in the driving rain.
“Come in,” I said, wondering who she was.
She stepped in and stood just inside the door. “I’m so sorry to intrude on a day like this, but I’m from the new Marina restaurant that’s about to open. We were checking through our invitations and found we hadn’t invited enough people, so we’re going door-to-door issuing invitations. I’m sorry it is such short notice, though, because it’s tomorrow night.”
“What is the event again?” I asked her. “And how much is a ticket?”
She shook her head. “It’s completely free, and it’s for a food tasting. It’s for the new Marina restaurant that we’re about to open. We want to invite all the town residents to a tasting. You’re welcome to bring a partner.”
Butterflies went wild in my stomach at the thought I could possibly invite Max, but to my dismay, Athanasius spoke up. “Can Goldie bring more than one guest?”
“That would be lovely,” Oleander piped up. “Athanasius and I would love to go.”
The woman must have noticed my face and the way I glanced at Max, because she said, “Would all four of you like to come?”
To my relief, Max said that he would. The woman handed me four tickets and a brochure. “All the information is in there,” she said. “I’m so glad you can all come, and sorry again for the late notice. The Marina restaurant is going to be so good for this town.”
“I don’t suppose you will be able to serve coffee?” Oleander asked her.
The woman’s face fell. “No, I’m afraid there’s no getting around that old bylaw.”
Chapter 22
I expected the Marina restaurant to be entirely modern, with masses of glass walls and trendy decor. To the contrary, it was something quite different. An old boat, clearly intended to be a statement piece, was suspended over the bar, and the tables were mismatched. Some chairs were upholstered in tartan, and I wondered if the owners were perhaps Scottish. A brown and gold geometric pattern covered one wall and it seemed to have nothing to do with the sea. The only nod to the sea, apart from the suspended boat, was the long rope that hung from the ceiling, forming a looped pattern.
There was a cylindrical fireplace in the centre of the room, which I thought a complete waste of money considering it never got cold enough in Queensland to warrant a fire. The curtains were drawn across one entire wall. I imagined there would be a good view of the sea on the other side and thought it a shame that the curtains were shut.
“This is exciting.” Oleander clutched my arm. “I can’t believe it’s all free, and the champagne, too. You only have to pay for spirits if you want them.”
I was alarmed. “Spirits?” I echoed, and then laughed. “I was thinking of ghosts. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I chuckled again.
Oleander patted my shoulder. “You’re probably still exhausted after your run. Wasn’t it nice that Max drove us all here?”
“Lovely,” I said through gritted teeth. Was that Max’s way of avoiding alone time with me? I had no idea. All I knew is that I was attracted to him, and sometimes I thought he was attracted to me, although he had never acted on it. I had seen these types of one-sided-attraction matches on Married At First Sight, and they never ended well, even after intervention from the experts.
I accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it slowly. I looked around the room for Max, but he was nowhere to be seen. Athanasius was talking to someone I presumed was a local, while Oleander was chatting with me. “I bet this place will be awfully expensive when they open,” she said.
I had to agree.
A woman appeared in front of me. “This is
home-made bread with roasted garlic and aged balsamic vinegar drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, basil, and black pepper.”
“Sounds good to me,” Oleander said, helping herself to some.
I instead selected a green olive.
Athanasius walked over to us. “Have you tried the small fried rice balls? They sound fairly ordinary, but I must say they’re absolutely delicious.”
I nodded. “You know, I think the truth spell has worn off, because I’ve met several people tonight and they haven’t confessed anything to me.”
Oleander’s hand went to her throat. “That is good news, Goldie.” She waggled her finger at me. “Now remember, you have to be entirely specific in your spells from now on. The universe doesn’t act on what you’re thinking; it acts on what you say.”
I sighed long and hard. “I’m afraid I’ve learnt that the hard way.” My voice was drowned out by a waiter offering zucchini flowers fried in a light batter and served with curried tomato coulis.
I spied Max talking to a woman, and my stomach knotted. Oleander followed my gaze. “There’s no need to be jealous, Goldie.”
“Jealous? Who, me? I’m not jealous,” I lied.
Oleander laughed. “That lady Max is speaking to is Helen North, Nicholas North’s wife.”
“Nico North?” I asked her. “The victim’s best buddy?”
“The very one,” she said. “The poor woman is something of an alcoholic. We don’t know much about Helen and Nicholas, because they haven’t been in East Bucklebury much longer than you have.”
“I thought he was best friends with the vet, though?” I said.
She nodded. “In Sydney, back in the day, and they obviously kept in touch. Like I said, they haven’t lived here long, but this poor woman, Helen, is overly fond of wine. Look at her now—she’s clearly quite over-refreshed.”
Helen was halfway through putting her arms around Max’s neck. Max was clearly alarmed and stepped backwards. Just then, Nico arrived and took his wife by the elbow. He did not seem at all put out that Helen had obviously had one too many glasses of champagne.
Max walked over to me and said, “Have you heard if the police got the gunshot residue tests back yet?”
I shook my head. “No, but I haven’t heard from them for the last few hours, so I’m taking it as a good sign.”
“Now, don’t you worry, Goldie,” he said. “Those gunshot residue tests will prove you’re innocent.”
“I don’t know if they’ll prove Georgia Garrison is innocent, though,” Oleander said. “My money is on her as the murderer. You know, she isn’t even here tonight. I’ll bet you anything she’s made a run for it.”
I didn’t know what to say. “It’s a puzzling case, to be sure,” I said, and then saw Max staring at me. I quickly added, “Not that we have done any investigating or anything like that.” I forced a smile.
Athanasius materialised beside me in what was a display of bad timing. “I still think it could be Adrian Young,” he said. “Maybe he was having an affair with the vet’s wife. They looked awfully friendly at the funeral.” He looked at Max and then added, “Not that we’ve done any investigating, of course.”
I thought it time to change the subject. “Isn’t this a lovely evening?”
To my relief, Max agreed and made no comment on the subject of our investigating. “Yes, we’ll have to come back some time for dinner.”
I did not know if he was referring to me or to all of us, so I simply said, “Yes, that would be nice.” My heart was beating out of my chest so hard that I wondered if the others could hear it.
“Oh look, there’s poor Julie Medina,” Oleander said. “Come on, Athanasius, let’s go and try to cheer her up.”
“Cheer her up?” Athanasius said, raising his eyebrows. “Why does she need cheering up?”
Oleander glared at her. “Obviously, because the man she was having an affair with turned out to be a murderer!” She seized Athanasius’s elbow and pulled him in Julie’s direction.
I smiled awkwardly at Max.
“Goldie…” he began, but the mysterious man interrupted.
“Detective Greyson and Ms Bloom. Imagine seeing the two of you here together.”
“We’re not here together,” Max said. “I merely gave Ms Bloom here along with her friends from the East Bucklebury Retirement Home a lift here. I’m the designated driver for the night.”
“How charitable of you,” the man said in a clipped tone. “May I have a word with you? If you’ll excuse us, Ms Bloom.”
I glared at their backs as they left. Why did Max protest that he wasn’t here with me? Why was he so defensive? Was that man a friend of Max’s ex-wife or ex-girlfriend, or something like that? Or did Max have a current wife, and this man was a friend of hers, maybe even her brother? Soon my head was spilling with endless possibilities, none of them good.
I turned around and bumped into Helen North. “I’m so sorry,” I said. I was mortified to see that she had spilt her champagne down her dress.
“It’s no trouble at all. Don’t worry about it.” Her speech was slurred. “Just fetch me some more champagne, will you?”
I thought she’d had one too many, but just as I was wondering what to say, a waiter went past and she snatched a champagne flute from his tray. “Would you like something to eat?” I asked her. I thought some solid food would absorb some of the alcohol.
“Yes, would you fetch me some food?” she said. “Maybe we should sit down. I feel a little dizzy.”
“Sure,” I said. “You sit right here. Would you like to eat anything in particular?”
“Perhaps some bruschetta,” she said, “to mop up all the alcohol.” She offered a nasal laugh.
Soon I was back at our little table with as much bruschetta as I could find. “Have this,” I said.
“You’re very kind. I’m Helen North. Who are you?”
“Goldie Bloom. I moved to East Bucklebury only recently.”
She looked me up and down. “Yes, I can see that. You seem awfully overdressed for a local.”
I couldn’t tell if her tone was critical, but I said, “I’m from Melbourne. My boss sent me here to manage his office in Southport.”
She laughed. “Was he trying to get rid of you?”
I laughed, too. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he was.”
“Men! They can be quite strange at times, can’t they?”
I readily agreed.
“My husband is the jealous type,” she said. “He doesn’t trust me. You know, I’d really like to get out of the marriage, but I’m afraid of what he would do. He has a bad temper.”
I was mortified at the news. I was wondering what to say when she pushed on. “He thought I was having an affair with Chase Evans.”
“The vet?” I was alarmed.
“Yes, Chase,” she said. “They’d been friends for years, since they were little kids. How ridiculous is that! Why would his best friend have an affair with me? Honestly, Nico has problems. Why do you think I drink?” She punctuated her remark by swallowing the rest of her glass in one gulp. I pushed the plate of bruschetta across to distract her from looking for another glass.
She nibbled at the edge of the bread before speaking again. “Did I tell you, my husband thought I was having an affair with Chase Evans?”
“Yes, you told me that only a second ago,” I said, worried about her.
She shook her head. “Sorry. I lose my memory when I drink, but drinking is the only way I can put up with my husband. At any rate, he was embarrassed when he found out that Chase wasn’t having an affair with me, but with Chase’s nurse, Georgia Garrison.”
“Why did he think you were having an affair with Chase?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Nico never thought that before, and we’ve been friends with Chase and Bree for years, but when we got back from California a couple of weeks ago, Chase told Nico that he was having an affair with a married woman, and Chase was gloating about the fact that her husb
and didn’t know. Nico thought he was taunting him, that he was having an affair with me. He apologised to me when he found out it was Georgia.” She waved a hand in agitation. “I wish I had somehow managed to stay in California and not come back to Australia with him. I just wish I could find a way to escape him.”
I patted her hand. “Surely you must be able to get out of the marriage if you really want to.”
She shook her head. “Nico has a terrible temper.” She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “Chase and Nico were good friends from childhood,” she continued, “but Nico was always jealous of Chase. Chase had everything he wanted, a beautiful home, and he got into vet school while Nico didn’t. Nico always acted friendly to Chase’s face, but I always had to hear about Chase at length from Nico. He often smashed things in the house if he heard that Chase did well. Of course, it all came to a head when he thought I was having an affair with Chase.”
“When did Nico find out you weren’t having an affair with Chase?” I asked her.
“Only after Chase died, when it all went around town that Chase had been having an affair with Georgia,” she said. “Everyone knows that now. I don’t envy Georgia when her husband gets back from overseas.”
“Do you think Georgia could have shot Chase?” I asked her.
She hiccupped and waved her empty champagne flute at me. “No, although Chase said she was a crack shot, even better than Nico.”
My blood ran cold. “Does Nico own a rifle?”
She put a perfectly manicured fingernail to her lips in a gesture of silence. “I’m supposed to deny it if anyone asks me.”
Everything fell into place. Nico was insanely jealous and thought his wife was having an affair with the victim. Nico owned a rifle, and Nico had just returned from California.
“I suppose Nico picked up American spelling and habits?”
She laughed. “Sure. He still gets in the passenger side of the car when he wants to drive. Sometimes, he’s even driven on the wrong side of the road.”
The photo that Max had shown me with the American spelling of realize swam before my eyes. At the time I had thought it a tenuous connection, but now I was sure.
