Gone Guest, page 14
“Oh, there’s a fold-up bed in the guardhouse. Detectives let me bunk down in there.”
He paused to thank Perry, who had returned with a plate stacked with pastries, fresh bread, jams and fruit, and a large cup of espresso coffee. “And I’ll stay until this is over. Like I said, can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Then he picked up an apricot tart and stared at it, like he had no idea what to do with it.
“You okay, Pete?” asked Alicia.
He blinked across to her. “Yeah, course.”
Then he finally put the pastry to his lips, but when he chewed, it was like he was eating cardboard. It took ages to swallow that first bite, and now the group were all sharing concerned looks.
“I can fetch you something else if you like?” said Perry. “There’s some yogurt—”
“Nah, but thanks. I shouldn’t be eating. Not even hungry. Can’t get that poor girl’s image out of my head.” He placed the tart down and reached for the coffee. Took a big slurp. “Ahh, that’s better.”
They let him savour his coffee for a moment, then Perry said, “Do you know how the search is going? For Sebastian?”
“And why was the chopper searching so far away last night?” added Lynette.
Pete placed his cup down gently. Cleared his throat. “So you haven’t heard? Detectives located a shoe last night out on the cliff edge. Suspect it belongs to Sebastian. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Oh no,” said Perry. “Did they spot it on the CCTV?”
He looked at him bemused, then shook his head. “Sniffer dog found it. Any case, there’s no cameras on that part of the property. Didn’t seem like an obvious spot when we installed them. There’s a trustworthy neighbour on one side, sheer drop on the other.”
“Hang on,” said Lynette. “What does this mean for Sebastian?”
“I guess it tells us how far he got, what direction he took. That he was even alive at that point.”
“That’s good news then, isn’t it?” said Missy.
He waggled his head from side to side and picked up his cup again. “Detectives reckon he jumped the wall. The shoe was on the other side, see? The cliff side. They reckon he must’ve been in fairly decent shape if he was able to scale the high wall and make a getaway.”
“This is sounding better and better,” said Missy. “He’ll probably show up at a police station any minute now.”
Pete stared at her like she might be a bit dim, then just shrugged and sipped his drink while Queenie answered for him.
“They think he’s gone over, don’t they? Over the cliff?”
Missy gasped and they all stared hard at Pete, who did not deny it.
“The wall—where the shoe was located—it’s right on the edge. It was very dark last night, as you well recall. Two steps in the wrong direction and he’d be…” Pete picked up a slice of sourdough bread and said, “Well… toast.”
~
Bethany was in a foul mood. She’d been up for hours, cleaning Veronica’s mess—that wasn’t part of the deal!—and now she could see the security guard lounging on the patio like he owned the place. What on earth was Pete doing chomping into her spread like a coveted guest? It was bad enough that the book club were still loitering, but now the useless old seccy? And was that Bert’s very expensive Wedgewood Renaissance Red fine bone china in his hand? The nerve of the man!
She marched across the pavers and was almost upon him when Pete noticed her and dropped the crimson-and-gold cup with a clunk.
“I… I’d better scoot back to the guardhouse,” he stammered, getting to his feet, eyes on Bethany. “Just checking in on how the guests are faring this morning, ma’am.”
“Yes, I can see that.” She stared pointedly at the matching gilded plate. “I’m not sure meals are part of your job description, Peter.”
“That’s my bad,” said one of them, also getting to his feet. “I pushed that food on Pete. But it’s been a big twelve hours and he did stay overnight to protect us. We can’t really begrudge him a piece of toast, can we?”
Now Bethany was glaring at the odious little man with the goatee. Perry wasn’t it? She smiled stiffly. “While Peter’s up here, perhaps he can assist you people with your luggage. Get you back to your vehicle and on your way home.”
“Oh, we’re staying for a bit longer,” said Perry. “Ronnie’s asked us to help.”
Bethany’s black eyebrows attempted to wedge together. “Help? But you’re just guests. That’s absurd. The police are searching for Sebastian; there’s helicopters in the sky. What can you possibly do?”
“Actually,” said the shaggy-haired Meg Ryan wannabe. The bossy one. Alicia. “We’re also trying to prove that Seamus is innocent.”
“You think he’s innocent?”
“We hope he’s innocent. Don’t you?”
Bethany shrugged, tried for a smile, couldn’t quite land one. “I think it would be more helpful if you left all this to the appropriate authorities.”
“Sorry, no can do,” said Perry, his tone almost whimsical, like this was some sort of game. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint the birthday girl.”
Bethany stared hard at him but could see the ghastly man was not for turning. She swept her gaze around the patio and spotted Veronica walking out, Hugh behind her.
“I’ll check that for myself,” she said.
“And I’ll get back to my post,” said Pete.
Bethany turned back. “I’m not sure your presence is required at the gate anymore, Peter. The police are still there, are they not?”
“They are, ma’am, but I’ve been told they’ll be clearing out this arvo, now that they have their… er, suspect.”
He had lowered his voice as Ronnie approached, but Bethany didn’t have time for his nonsense. She stepped forward. First things first.
“Veronica,” she said. “I really don’t think we need to detain your book pals any longer. It’s best they make tracks, hm? This is a family matter now.”
“Pardon?” said Ronnie, looking confused.
“Do you need a seat?” asked the Eurasian one, jumping up to pull her into one.
“Thank you, Claire,” said Ronnie. “I… I’ve had such disturbing news.” She gulped back at Hugh, who remained standing behind her seat. “They found a shoe.”
Bethany frowned. “A shoe?”
“Really?” said Perry, a strange, sliding look at Peter. “Tell us more.”
And so she did, explaining how a man’s black dress shoe was discovered on the wrong side of the cliff wall.
“Oh dear,” said Bethany, stepping back. “That’s it then. Sounds like he’s gone over.” That caused the entire book club to glare at her. “What? I’m just facing facts, and you should prepare yourself too, Veronica.”
“But that isn’t a fact,” said Alicia. “It’s just a shoe. Sebastian could still be alive.”
“So where is he?” Ronnie asked, eyes flooding with tears. She pulled a tissue from one sleeve, yanked her glasses off and dabbed at them. “I need to pull myself together. I have to focus on Seamus now. Hugh and I have to get to the city but you…” Her splotchy gaze swept across the book club. “You will stay, won’t you? Do what it is you all do so well.”
Bethany folded her arms while they all nodded eagerly, like they’d been offered the keys to Disneyland.
Pete cleared his throat. “And I’d like to stay too, if that’s okay by you, Mrs Westera.”
He was talking to Veronica, of course, but Bethany knew what he was doing. Undermining her authority in front of the blow-ins.
“I promised Bert I’d look out for you all,” Pete continued, “and I’d like to try to keep that promise.”
Veronica grasped his hand in her own, like he was kin, and said, “Of course, if you’re up to it. Thank you, Pete. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Nahhh.” He waved her off and cleared his throat like he was all choked up. “I’ll get back down there now.”
Then he stopped and snatched up his half-empty cup again, like it was his for the keeping. “Thank you for being so kind.” His words were directed at the book club now, clearly giving them the credit for the breakfast she had organised! “If you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me.”
Then he shot Bethany a look that sent a small chill down her spine.
“And if it’s help you need,” he continued, “don’t hesitate to pop on down to the guardhouse. I might just have more answers than you realise.”
Bethany blinked rapidly back at him. What was that supposed to mean?
“I think your brother wants you,” said one of the book clubbers, the young one with the boring bob, her finger pointing towards the guest house.
Bethany swept around to see Bronson at the other end of the patio, waving a mobile phone around like a goon. She rolled her eyes to the heavens and turned away.
Ronnie apologised for her niece as they all watched her stride across to Bronson and snatch the phone from his hands, then she glanced at Hugh and said, “I think we’d better leave too.”
“Hang on, Ronnie,” said Missy. “Did you tell DI Singh about our mobile phone theory?”
“Your theory, you mean,” said Perry. “Take credit for it, honey.”
“I’m sorry,” said Ronnie, “but Singh’s not giving anyone credit for that theory. What did she say about it, Hugh?”
The older man smiled awkwardly. “She said it’s ‘the kind of nonsense a group of meddling Miss Marples would concoct’, or something to that effect.”
Missy slumped as Ronnie tsked. “Don’t let her put you off, dear. I still think it was very clever. Besides, she did give something away. Something that proves my Seamus is innocent. I don’t think she meant to tell me, but I asked how Greta’s folks were coping, and DI Singh said she’d just been to see them and they were naturally distraught.” She sniffed, pushed Hugh’s hand away. “But here’s the thing: Greta’s mother confirmed that her daughter did break up with Sebastian recently and was now with Seamus. That proves Seamus wasn’t lying. Because no matter how Sebastian felt, Seamus had the girl. He had no reason to kill Seb. None at all.”
Queenie tucked some hair behind her ears. “So why did Greta go with Sebastian to the tennis court then?” She spotted another sharp look coming from Claire and said, “Sorry, I’m not trying to plant it back on Seamus.”
“No, no,” said Ronnie, “we need to work through all the angles.” She checked her watch, then said to Hugh, “We’d best be off. Oh, and there’s the detective now.”
DI Singh was walking across the patio, an inscrutable look on her face. She was dressed in her trademark dark suit, and her hair was back in a low ponytail.
“Play nicely, children,” Ronnie said sternly as she left them to it.
DI Singh murmured something to Ronnie as she passed her on the patio, then strode up to the club’s table as Perry got back to his feet.
“Croissant, Detective?” he asked.
She just frowned at him, as if he was taking the mickey out of her, and perhaps he was, thought Alicia. It was hard to tell with Perry.
“How is Seamus?” asked Alicia. “Are you still holding him? Do you really think he did this?”
Singh ignored that too. “I can see I’ve not been able to persuade you to leave, so let me make this very clear. This property has now been given the all-clear, and you may move around freely. However, my initial instructions remain. Do not go anywhere near that tennis court and steer well away from the top western side of the house.”
“That’s where the killer fired the fatal shot, isn’t it?” said Alicia.
Singh scowled at her. “I don’t know how many ways I need to say this, but stay out of it, Alicia. If you insist on remaining, you do so as civilians. Okay? Stick to your precious croissants and leave the investigation to the professionals.”
Then she left them, all quietly scowling.
“What is that dreadful woman’s problem?” whispered Claire. “We were such help last time.”
“That’s her problem,” said Perry. “Nobody likes to feel superfluous.”
He tried to catch Alicia’s eye, but she did not return his gaze.
~
Up in the guardhouse, Pete was still steaming over Bethany. How dare she treat him with such contempt! After everything he’d done for this family, didn’t he deserve a decent cuppa? He’d been a loyal lapdog since Bert was alive, back when Mr Westera ruled the roost. Oh, how he missed those halcyon days when things were peaceful, happy even. Everyone knew their place.
Now there were too many chiefs, and boundaries were becoming blurred.
Hell, even he’d made the mistake of stepping across the line. He stared at the old china cup he’d just washed. What a bloody fool he was. No wonder Bethany was fired up.
What the hell was he thinking? Had he lost his mind? He should have just—
Pete’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a polished white sedan, a man in a business shirt behind the wheel. There was a police officer on duty outside the gate, and the two spoke for several minutes before the officer waved him away. But the guy was shaking his head furiously, refusing to budge.
Pete dropped the cup to his desk and stepped out. “Everything okay here?”
“No,” called the man in the sedan. “I appreciate there’s a police investigation going on, but I have a very important meeting locked in with the owner of the property, Miss Bethany Westera. I just spoke to her, and she’s expecting me now.”
Pete told the officer, “I’ll call the house and check it’s all in order.”
The officer shrugged and turned away as Pete pulled a pen from his pocket and grabbed his trusty clipboard, which was hanging just inside the door to the guardhouse. “Name and purpose please?”
“Samson, Craig Samson,” the man said, then he frowned, glancing back at the officer. “Look, I’m just here to collect something. Won’t be long.”
Pete’s eyes narrowed. “That may be so, sir, but I still need to take down your details.”
The man hesitated for a moment, then pulled out his business card and handed it across, and it took one look for Pete to understand exactly what Craig Samson was doing here.
The guard’s eyes narrowed as he tucked the card away.
Chapter 16 ~ Tying Themselves in Knots
Claire scrunched her eyes shut as she waited for her husband to pick up the call, dreading this one. The club had spent the past hour helping clean the party debris away and were now spread out in the study, tending to their other lives so they could tick a few things off then refocus.
Alicia and Lynette called their brother, who had recently moved down from Cairns and was staying over to dog-sit their beloved Labrador, Max. And Perry was making his apologies to a friend who was expecting him to drop over for lunch.
Missy now lived alone and had no plans to amend, but it didn’t stop her from phoning her mum and Henny, giving them “the goss”.
And then there was young Queenie, who hadn’t called anyone, just sat trawling through Instagram.
“Hello, darling,” came Simon’s voice on the other end of Claire’s mobile. “How was the party?”
Claire’s eyes flipped open. “The news hasn’t broken yet?”
Simon chuckled. “Were you expecting to make the social pages? I’ve already checked the Herald. Not so much as a cheesy group shot, I’m afraid.”
“Actually, it’s more of a front-page kind of story.”
“Sorry? I’m not following.”
Claire launched into the events of last night while her husband gasped and groaned and asked if she was safe. The darling!
“Absolutely,” she replied. “The place is riddled with cops, there’s a helicopter in the air, and a security guard at the front gate who has a soft spot for us now, thanks to Perry. So I’m sure we’ll be just fine. We’re staying longer though. To assist Ronnie.”
“Of course,” he said. “Should I cancel my golf game and make my way down?”
“Please, no. I’m not sure Tommo would ever forgive me for that. He’s barely forgiven me for besmirching his lovely superyacht.”
“Hey, wasn’t your fault there was a killer on our honeymoon cruise. He knows that.”
Claire scoffed. That might be so, but Simon’s business partner did blame her for the marriage and the fact that Simon now had something other than their shared business, LLE, to keep him up nights. “Go enjoy your golf. I’ll call you if anything dramatic happens.”
“In that case, I look forward to not hearing from you,” he said, half joking, before he told her he loved her and hung up.
“The boss?” Queenie asked, glancing across to Claire who was now adjusting her chignon, tucking some black tendrils back up and into it. “I hope he’s on his way to the club. Game kicks off soon.”
Claire tried to smile but still couldn’t get her head around the fact that one of her book club friends knew more about her husband’s schedule than she did.
“Are we keeping you from something?” Claire asked, noticing Queenie’s eyes flit back to her phone. “Or someone?”
“Not at all.” Queenie shoved the device into her pocket.
“What about the new man you’ve been seeing? The lad with the lovely black curls?”
“What? No. I mean, we’re not seeing each other. How did you—?”
“I spotted you two the other day when I went in to meet Simon for lunch. You were together at the café on the corner. You make a very cute couple.”
Queenie snorted. Shook her head furiously. “Oh no, we’re not a couple. No way. I haven’t got time for boyfriends. Too busy with work for that kind of stuff.”
Claire dropped her head to the side. “That’s rather sad, Queenie. Your boss has time for that kind of stuff.” She waved a hand across her checked gingham blouse. “Not to mention a lovely game of golf any time he pleases, why shouldn’t you have a bit of fun?”
Queenie looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language, so Claire added, “I’m just saying, learn from my mistakes, Queenie. There’s more to life than work.”
