Deadly secrets, p.10
Deadly Secrets, page 10
“Why are you looking so pensive, Charlie?” Trev put two cups on coasters and settled into the opposite chair. “Anything you’d like to open with?”
Not really.
But there was little point in avoiding the inevitable, one-sided discussion once she began with the details. All Trev knew, so far, was she’d seen Kevin in the clearing. After texting him to see if he was awake at six thirty, he’d phoned.
“You saw him go into the bushland?” were the first words out of his mouth.
“Yes and no. I was—”
“How soon can you be at the station?”
“Oh. Half an hour?”
And here she was. A bit after seven. No breakfast or even a coffee yet. She reached for the cup he’d placed near her, eyes wandering to his. Trev’s expression was hard to read. He must expect the worst and she was about to give it to him. Might as well get it over with.
“You’ll be cross.”
He raised an eyebrow and took a long sip of coffee.
“I couldn’t sleep with the storm so sat by the window overlooking the forest for a while.”
“And Kevin Murdoch emerged from the direction of the clearing?”
“Ye…es. A bit later.”
“Go on.” Trev held his coffee cup between both hands. His eyes never left Charlotte’s. Right now she could use some eye aversion. This was about to get ugly.
Stop stalling.
“I saw a person out in the weather. Someone with a long raincoat and wide brimmed hat pulled right down. They were near the entrance to the flower trail one minute, then next flash of lightning, no sign of them. Not anywhere along the main track.”
“This was when? Midnight? Later?”
“About then. All I could think was this person must know her…known she was buried there and was compelled to visit what was left of her grave. To mourn or be relieved she was finally found. I wanted to help.”
Trev put his cup down with great care. He turned on the computer, tapping his fingers on the desk as it booted up. Charlotte recognised the intense control he was exerting over himself. He either wanted to tell her off or hold her. Either way, he wasn’t moving much and even his shoulders had tensed.
“In a moment I’ll take a statement. But tell me this,” he looked straight at Charlotte. “you took yourself out into the middle of a thunderstorm to follow an unknown person to a secluded crime scene. And came across Kevin Murdoch, who has made it clear he doesn’t like you. Am I correct in my assumption?”
Charlotte nodded and dropped her eyes, unable to bear the emotion in his. Anger? Disappointment? Either way, her stomach lurched. He’d told her once before of his fear of losing her when she’d kept secrets. This wasn’t a secret. It was a mistake.
All the way through the interview, Trev kept his tone steady and asked her to repeat anything he was unsure of. He typed, questioned, typed. Every so often he drank coffee. Hers went cold. Kevin Murdoch’s face haunted her. A flash of light and his face lifted to the sky. Her back hard against the tree. Rain dripping from her hair as she hid. Her heart raced.
“Charlotte. Charlie, look at me.”
With a small gasp, she pulled herself out of the darkness.
Trev’s hand covered hers, warm and reassuring. “Where were you just now?”
“I am so sorry.” Her voice came out as a whisper. “I followed my heart, Trev. My need to help whoever was in such pain but how was I to know Kevin was the person? And he cannot be in pain over this unless he loved and lost her.”
After a quick squeeze he released her hand and sat back, arms crossed.
Without a word, Charlotte stood, collected both cups, and headed for the kettle. The whole time she made coffee she felt Trevor’s eyes on her. What she’d done was dangerous and couldn’t be repeated. Not if she wanted him in her life. And she did.
“Two coffees.” Why she said this she had no idea. Fill the silence.
“Thanks. Sit, please.”
Much as her flight instinct urged her to grab her handbag and run, Charlotte managed a smile and sat. “I messed up.”
“Messed up. Let’s take a closer look. On the up side, you’ve identified a person trespassing on a marked police site. This gives me a lot to consider about Mr Murdoch and his reasons for being there under such bizarre conditions. And that is the up side.”
“Well, it helps. Doesn’t it? I mean, what if he killed her?”
“Exactly.”
Charlotte tried to follow.
“If he killed whoever was in the grave, does it sound logical he might kill again to keep this a secret?” Trev uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. “Charlotte, if he’d seen you, I might be out there again but this time with your body to identify.” His eyes bored into hers and then he pushed back his chair and stalked away. The back door swung shut behind him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Trev didn’t stop until he reached the back fence behind the police station. His hands were curled into fists and he somehow resisted the urge to hit the timber palings. As it was they were falling down, some hanging by a nail and others bending away from the top. Another thing to fix. He walked alongside the fence, counting the damaged palings until the thunder in his ears subsided. By then he’d reached the corner of what was a large and unkempt yard. Not dissimilar to his station in River’s End when he’d arrived there.
There was adequate space for a vegetable garden and an idea formed. Something for the community. Unlike River’s End station, which also had his accommodation on the same land, this was a standalone station. With some nurturing he might turn this into a safe space for locals to have a neighbourhood garden.
The back door clicked shut again. Charlotte must think him crazy. Storming off like this. Did she have no sense of danger? No concept of the risk she was in last night? And not the first time she’d acted before thinking around dangerous people.
“Trev?” her voice held uncertainty. And it should. His return to Kingfisher Falls was as much about being close to her as being home again. He wanted to live his life with Charlotte Dean. But she wanted to solve crimes even when there wasn’t one to solve. He steeled himself, preparing to deliver some home truths. She had to understand the consequences.
One look at her tear-streaked face and all resolve to keep her at a distance dissolved. He opened his arms and she fell into them. As she had last night after her scare with Jonas. This was where she belonged. Wrapped in his embrace. He could protect her like this. Stop her doing things to put herself at risk. If she stayed here…
He buried his face in her hair. He mustn’t cry.
The insistent ringing of a phone was what finally drew them apart. He loosened his arms with an apologetic, “sorry,” then realised it was her phone. She slid it from a pocket and turned away to answer. Thank goodness. He rubbed his eyes then blinked to clear his vision. At least now the urge to scold her was gone. Going. Equal they might be, but he was only human when it came to wanting her safe.
“Maggie, slow down, I’m struggling to understand.” Charlotte caught his eye. Her tone was Doctor Dean. “What’s wrong with Mum?”
Foreboding clutched at Trev’s gut.
“I see. Okay….yes, I heard. Can you send the number of her specialist please? And a list of what she’s on.”
Her shoulders slumped as she listened and she nodded every so often.
“Let’s see if we can sort it out first.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do understand, but until we start to panic, let me review what’s going on please.”
A moment later she hung up. “Damnit. Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Mum had a psychotic episode. Hurt another patient. They’ve sedated her and she’s safe, so is everyone else.”
A message beeped and she glanced at the phone.
“The specialist’s number?”
“Yeah. But I can’t contact them for another hour or two. Time difference and all that. Damnit.”
Two ‘damnits’ in one minute. He’d never heard her say it before. Her face was set, deep in thought. He held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and find a decent coffee.”
She hesitated.
“You have time. And I need to eat even if you survive on morsels each day.”
“I do not! I eat a lot of food. Just not regularly.” But she took his hand and let him guide her past a thorny bush back to the door. “This place is a mess, Trevor.”
He grinned, relieved at her normal tone. “Offering to help me do an overhaul?”
“If you believe that, you are clearly over hungry.”
“Golden latte?”
“Thanks, and the baked eggs please.” Charlotte smiled at Vinnie, owner of the café she frequented the most. It was situated on the corner opposite the bookshop, she and Rosie were regular customers.
Vinnie tilted his head at Trev, his expression curious. “And breakfast for you also, young Trevor?”
“Not so young Trevor would love a black coffee and pancakes, thanks.”
For the first time this morning, Charlotte stopped worrying. For a few minutes anyway. His rapport with the long-time owner of the café was funny. She’d once teased Trev in a phone conversation about the amazing man who knew she needed coffee just by looking at her. Vinnie was one of those traders who made everyone welcome and remembered what they liked.
“What, please enlighten me, is a golden latte?”
“Really? Hm. I guess you are a black coffee drinker.”
“Hey. Is that an insult?”
“Never. Golden latte isn’t coffee. Mine has almond milk with turmeric, black pepper, ginger and some other spices. Creamy goodness in a glass.”
“There you go. Learn something new every day.” Trev’s phone buzzed. “Sorry, back in a sec.” He stepped outside to answer.
Charlotte sat back in her chair, eyes on him through the window. She had no doubt he was disappointed in her. And frightened she might have died. The reality hadn’t sunk in yet but she knew it would when she had less to worry about. Her mother was an issue she couldn’t avoid.
Nor can you avoid Trev’s feelings.
If he cared less for her, his reaction would be different. When he’d walked out of the station, his body rigid and words left hanging in the air she’d glimpsed into his heart. All her life she’d avoided being close to anyone who might want more from her. With Trev, she’d even moved hours away from his home. Except it was to work for his mother.
Vinnie returned with their drinks and a raised eyebrow.
“He’s on the phone.”
“Should be in here. With you.” With a wink, Vinnie left her again.
Was everyone in this town a matchmaker? It was funny though, the assumptions of people that she and Trev belonged together.
“Apologies for the interruption.” Trev slid into his seat again. “Coffee.”
“Do you want to taste mine?”
He contemplated her glass of bright yellow milk and shook his head. “Thanks, but coffee is fine for now. That was Katrina. She and Bryce expect a report today regarding the remains. I’ve mentioned your…sighting, of Kevin Murdoch and they’ll drive down a bit later to meet with me. Might need to take some more of your time.”
She nodded and stirred her drink.
“We didn’t finish our interview but might leave things as they are until more information comes to light. What I do want to ask is for your opinion of Kevin Murdoch. You don’t need to answer now, but think about it. Of the interactions you’ve had and what you’ve observed.”
After a delicious mouthful of her drink, Charlotte glanced around. It was still early and only one other patron had a table and that was out of earshot. “I’m happy to profile him for you, from a professional angle. Personally, I’ve kept a distance from him after seeing how ruthless he was about the Forest family last year. Holding court out in the plaza to drum up outrage over the thefts of the Christmas trees. I got the impression…”
“I’m interested.”
“Well, my impression was how orchestrated the meeting was. Him, Jonas. Some random voices in the crowd. A clever attempt to turn attention away from something else—but I’ve never worked out what that was. And with Sid Browne in the mix, it clouded who was behind it and what the motives were.”
“Go on.” Trev held his coffee cup, taking occasional sips, his eyes on her.
“After Octavia died and he came to the bookshop, I thought his hostility was misplaced grief. But looking back, I think he picked a time I was alone and used his size to intimidate me. He isn’t as pushy as his brother, and defers to Terrance a lot, but Kevin Murdoch has something simmering under the surface. In my opinion.”
Vinnie arrived with a tray. He was careful to use a serving glove to place a steaming stone bowl in front of Charlotte with a solemn, “It is very hot.” Then he served Trev’s pancakes. “And much colder is our homemade vanilla ice cream on the side.”
“Looks wonderful!” Charlotte took her phone out. “I’ll tag you on Instagram.”
“Enjoy.” Vinnie grinned.
“Don’t eat yours yet.” Charlotte reached for Trev’s plate and turned it slightly. “That’s better.” She snapped away, uploaded both images, and then glanced up. “What?”
Trev shook his head, a smile in his eyes. “May I eat now?”
“I give you permission. Actually, yours looks so yum.” Three fluffy pancakes were piled with fresh berries and flaked chocolate, then drizzled with caramel.
“So do your eggs. What’s in there with them?”
“Tomato, capsicum, some olives,” Charlotte nudged the bowl with a fork. “chilli slices, herbs. I am so hungry.”
Both ate in silence. Every mouthful improved Charlotte’s mood and when she finished, she sighed in pleasure. Trev’s plate was empty and he drained his coffee cup.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much. I’m going to have to go open the shop soon.”
“When will you phone the specialist?”
“Once Rosie arrives.” Thinking about this lowered her mood again. “Maggie sent the other information I requested so I’ll look at that first. If Mum’s reaction is from the mix of medication then adjusting it is the first step.”
“And if not?”
Don’t want to consider that yet.
She shrugged. “Need to speak to her specialist. With a bit of luck this is something I can help with remotely.”
“If not? You’ll go to see her?”
With a smile forced from somewhere deep inside, Charlotte picked up her phone and stood. “Long way from considering that. I’ll pay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Charlotte spent a few minutes doing deep breathing laying on the floor of the apartment. Rosie was in the bookshop, shooing her out as soon as she heard about the call from Maggie. After reviewing the information about her mother’s current list of treatments, Charlotte shook her head. Too many. Some there just for the sake of it. Mum had such a range of conditions it was tricky balancing medications.
Once she’d calmed her nerves and thought through the coming conversation, Charlotte stood and stretched. Then, she wrote a few notes on paper and finally, sipped a glass of water as she focused her mind to communicate to a professional peer, and one who may not appreciate her interference.
As it was, the conversation was short and sharp. Mum’s specialist was yet another male psychiatrist and one with no interest in discussing his patient, despite Charlotte having power of attorney for Angelica. She hung up, then uttered a rare swear word.
Instead of throwing the phone at the wall, which was what she’d have liked to do, she dialled Lakeview Care.
Calm down before you speak.
Easier said than done.
The phone was answered and she was connected to Maggie. She’d known Maggie since first looking for a suitable place for Angelica to move into. Lakeview Care dealt with long term patients.
“Hello, Doctor Dean. Where you able to speak with Doctor Hicks?”
“Good morning, Maggie. I just got off the phone.”
“Was he able to help?”
“He wasn’t interested in speaking with me. What happened to Mum’s previous psychiatrist? We’ve discussed keeping to female doctors on more than one occasion.”
Keep your tone pleasant, Charlie.
“We have. But it isn’t always possible. People move on and sometimes we don’t have the choices we’d prefer for our patients. Angelica seemed to like Doctor Hicks. At first, anyway.”
“She’ll never settle with a male authority figure. Who else is available? I’m happy to make some calls—”
“With all respect, Doctor Dean, we have access to a small pool of professionals. Most of them have private practices also, which means less time for us. We are not able to pay the high fees from their private clients, which I’m sure you would understand.”
Was that a dig? Charlotte opened the sliding door. Out on the balcony, fresh air helped her stay calm.
“I appreciate your position, Maggie, and you know I have the highest regard for you and the staff at Lakeview, which is why Mum is with you. My concern is the mix of medications she’s on. There is some conflict which may be why this intense paranoia is happening.”
“You may be correct, but unless you’d like to see her yourself, in a professional capacity, I am reluctant to change what her current psychiatrist has prescribed. We’ve tried doing this long distance in the past and it is less than satisfactory.”
“Last time we spoke, she was doing well.” Charlotte leaned on the balcony, her eyes on the street below. People wandered from shop to shop. A normal day. “Her clarity was a bit off, but overall, it appeared she was more stable than in the past.”
Maggie let out a long, deep sigh. “I wish it were true. I’ve worked with Angelica for a long time now and only see a downward spiral. Less and less good days. And with the violent episode, we are considering her future suitability as a resident. I’m sorry.”
