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Lexi escaped Tarant as fast as decently possible. She threw a slip of paper onto his desk before leaving. “Please, can you check that registration number?” she asked. “It belongs to the motorbike following me.”
Tarant sighed and nudged the letters ADP with his index finger. “It’s getting harder,” he mused. “I used to just phone up friendly cops and ask them to run registration numbers on the system. Now, they need a paper trail and everything gets logged. Internal Affairs investigates anyone caught snooping without a good reason.”
His reluctance stiffened Lexi’s spine. “Just ask Harvey Rojas. I’m sure he’ll sell his soul for a cash backhander.”
Tarant cocked his head. “Yeah, maybe when marriage united us. Not anymore.”
Lexi shrugged. She strode towards the door. “Not my problem,” she stated. “Just get it done, please.” The door banged behind her and the lock engaged. She blew out a ragged breath in the fresh air. The sky still held a warning greyness, the fluffy clouds loaded with grey underbellies. Lexi pulled her leather jacket lapels closed and strode towards her SUV.
Garima’s private mobile just rang and rang. Lexi groaned and used a button on her steering wheel to kill the call. At the traffic lights after the Fairfield bridge, she scrolled through her contacts and found his office landline number. A wavering female voice answered, her mouth too close to the receiver. “St Finbar’s Catholic Church, how may I help you?”
Lexi blinked in surprise. “Mrs Barrymore!” she exclaimed. “Why aren’t you at home in bed?”
A dramatic sigh whooshed from the speakers. “It’s my week on the roster,” she clarified. “Mrs Jones offered to cover me, but I don’t like to let Father Allen down at such a time.” Her voice contained a sanctimonious edge. Lexi imagined she’d milk sympathy from her head injury. It beat sitting at home with no one to admire her bandage.
“That’s very brave of you,” she soothed. “I’m Garima’s sister. You might not remember me from yesterday.”
“Oh, I do!” she cried. “And please, call me Darlene. The paramedics said you saved my life!”
Lexi turned a burst of laughter into a cough. She closed her window against the traffic noises as the lights changed. She turned right onto Victoria Street and headed towards the junction with Forest Lake Road. “I don’t have that good a grasp on first aid,” she stated. She dropped her voice. “I’m sorry for your loss, too. I never met Father Donald Douglas, but my brother spoke well of him. He sounded like a great friend.”
“An absolute saint!” Darlene’s voice wobbled, and she released a sniff. It sounded genuine. “And so easy to talk to. Wonderful in the confessional. He made you feel as though God himself had absolved you of your sins.”
Lexi pursed her lips. Father Donald’s last confession hadn’t gone so well for him. It resulted in him fleeing, and Lexi receiving a warning note and enduring a visit to Lachlan Mortimer. “I’m popping over,” she said, forcing lightness into her tone. “Can I pick up anything on the way for you?”
Lexi leaned against the cafe wall and waited for her order. She ached to get onto her laptop and zoom in to inspect elements of the Facebook photograph. Something about it jarred with her. She fired off an email to Tarant, asking for more information about the client. Her mind strayed to Danny and her chest clenched. As if on cue, his number scrolled across her vibrating phone screen. A glance at the barista showed her just frothing Lexi’s latte. She hadn’t made the two herbal teas yet.
Lexi answered. “Danny.” She dragged out his name. “What can I do for you?”
“I have two cinema tickets for tonight,” he crooned. “Fancy catching up? I haven’t seen you for days.”
“Well, you cancelled the other night,” she mused. “And so I worked.”
“I just had a thing.” He brushed off her rebuke without apology.
Lexi twisted her lips into a knot. The barista glanced up with a smile but blinked in alarm at Lexi’s nasty expression. “Tonight doesn’t work for me,” Lexi stated. “In fact, I don’t think our relationship is going anywhere. It’s not you, it’s me. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“But,” he began. The word petered out. “I really like you.”
Lexi’s jaw hardened. She suspected her solvency and home ownership attracted him more than her personality. A con man dealing in seduction. Possibly with a blackmail angle. Tarant had noticed the grainy image of the video camera hidden on a shelf unit in Danny’s lounge. Only one of the images caught the glint from its lens. Alex Battersea had bigger problems than the deleted photos. Danny filmed his romp with the man’s wife. Pity he hadn’t given them time to finish their report.
Thank goodness Lexi had resisted his sexual overtures. Would he have threatened Garima’s livelihood with images of her? “Bye then,” she stated. She ended the call before he could protest. Terminating relationships over the phone seemed mean when others did it. But men like Danny Fisher needed casting off fast. His lackadaisical work ethic and odd hours made sense in hindsight. Lexi blocked and deleted his number from her phone as the barista finished her order.
Darlene occupied Garima’s office chair. She perched on it with a giant bandage wrapped around her entire head. It hindered her vision, forcing her to raise her chin to peer at Lexi. “Oh, you’re a darling.” She produced a plummy English accent drowned by a groan. “Father Allen is at a meeting with the bishop right now. I’m sure he’s due out soon.”
“Thank you.” Lexi took the same visitor’s chair as yesterday. Her bottom ached at the remembered imprint of its hard surface. “Has Garima ever mentioned I work as a private investigator?” She sipped her latte and watched Darlene pull sections from her muffin. Dainty movements pushed them between her thin lips.
“No.” Her reply held a veiled interest.
Lexi sat forward. “Do you trust the police to honour Father Donald Douglas?” She lowered her voice.
Darlene raised her gaze and shrewd eyes peered from beneath the bandage’s fringe. “You don’t?”
Her perception caused Lexi to sit back in her chair. She didn’t. But saying so brought risks. She would arm Darlene with ammunition to present later to an eager Harvey Rojas. He’d love to arrest Lexi for obstruction. She exhaled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Garima spoke with genuine affection for Father Donald. It seemed everyone liked him. But someone dumped him face first in a rubbish skip. That’s not how you treat someone you respected.”
Darlene’s lips pursed. “You’re worried about what the police might dig up? And how it might damage our little community here at St Finbar’s.”
Lexi gave a slow nod. She didn’t add that any dirt might blow back on her brother.
“I agree.” Darlene adjusted the sliding swathe of bandage threatening to cover her eyes. “So, let’s pool ideas, shall we?”
