Ben had no idea how Ellie survived in this apartment with next to no food in the fridge, freezer, or cupboards. She loved cooking and used to keep the freshest of produce on hand for the intimate dinner parties she hosted weekly for her close friends.
Used to.
Where were those friends now when she needed them? Probably driven away by Dennis Connor, a man who struck him as being more than a bit of a narcissist. When he’d been here a few days ago, Ellie made some comment about Dennis binge-buying French champagne during her time in London. Had the man really left his wife with so little to come home to?
Beside Ellie’s handbag on the counter was a small photo album. As the coffee machine heated, Ben flicked through the pages, stopping on the one of Michael surfing. Their shared passion of chasing the waves around the world once made them inseparable and introduced Ben to Ellie.
She’d captured Ben’s heart over late night tequilas with stories from her volunteer work in remote villages across the globe. At the time she was studying a double degree in culinary management and cooking and worked part time for Jack. Once a year, she’d steal a couple of weeks to help change lives. Until Michael’s life changed forever.
“That belongs to Dad.”
He’d not heard the shower turn off. Ellie didn’t look upset, it was a statement as she dried her hair with a towel.
“Some good memories in there.” Ben closed the album and went back to the coffee machine.
“It was in his safe in the library, which was kind of a weird place to put photos. I’ll take it back tomorrow for when he gets…”
The sudden distress in her eyes cut into Ben. He turned his back, finishing the coffee. By the time he carried two cups out, she was on the sofa, legs under herself. Her hair was still damp, softening into the waves she’d always hated and he’d always found cute. She stared out of the windows at the storm.
“Here, this will warm your hands.”
She took the coffee without a word, sat back, and gazed at him. Waiting.
“Let’s talk about this.” Ben sat on the sofa, but far enough away to give her space. “Late this afternoon a report came in about something floating on the surface at the base of the cliff at Black Rock. Initially, it looked like clothes, but a boat coming in from the storm said body. They weren’t in a position to get closer. Lots of underwater rocks there and as the tide came in, the body didn’t move.”
“Are they sure it’s a person?”
“Pretty sure. Some uniformed officers got there in time to have a look but the way down to those rocks is treacherous. Seemed to be wearing dark pants and light top.”
“We don’t even know what Dad was wearing. Ben, we need to go to the house and speak to Meredith, and to the staff. Someone must know!”
“And we will, Ellie. Not until this storm passes though.”
As if to reinforce Ben’s words, a clap of thunder rattled the rain streaked windows. Although it was early evening, the sky was dark. The last weather prediction he’d looked at warned of a long and damaging storm front.
“How would a body get there?”
“I’m not a tidal expert, but someone who is will work out possible source locations, particularly once we have a time of…”
“Death, Ben? I’m a big girl. Don’t feel you need to avoid using the words you need to use.” She sipped coffee, eyes never leaving his face.
“Sorry. It feels odd to be having this conversation.”
“Because it is me, or because it might be about Dad?”
Both, actually.
“Anyway, speculation is a bit pointless, but one possibility is the person fell. Or fell elsewhere and was carried by an undertow. Or drowned somewhere in the bay and the tide moved them. Until recovery and inspection, we can’t consider much more as we don’t know how the person died.”
“I’d really like a drink.” Ellie slid her feet onto the floor and stood. “Want one?”
“Yes. But you have nothing in the kitchen.”
“Bother. I keep meaning to shop, but you know what? There’s a supermarket on the bottom floor of the building next door and this building has an access door to it so I won’t even get wet.”
“I’ll go.” Ben’s phone rang. “After I get this.”
“Be right back.” Ellie grabbed her purse and phone from the wet handbag and was out of the door before Ben got to his feet. But she was gone and the phone kept ringing.
“Yes!”
“Detective Rossi?”
“Sorry, speaking.”
“It’s Paul Dekeles here. Is this a bad time?”
Ben stared around Ellie’s apartment. “No, go ahead. How can I help?”
“We’re short staffed so I’ve spent some time in the control room. When it was quiet, I was reviewing some footage from the other day and found something a bit interesting.”
“Which day?”
“When the fisherman went missing. Ellie was with me when you called to get her down to the pier. Anyway, something about that morning stuck in my mind so I had a look.”
“And?”
“Dennis Connor fronted up late. I mean, late late. Got out of his car with his sleeves rolled up and no jacket. Tie all to one side, hair a mess.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
“He is normally early to the office and immaculate. Never a hair out of place. But if you don’t want the footage, that’s fine.”
“I didn’t say that. At this point though, we don’t have permission to look at it.”
“So…I might just keep a copy in a safe place. And when you do have permission, I’ll be here.”
The connection was terminated. Dennis wasn’t fully on his radar. If this body was Jack, things would change. But Paul interested him. The man was a bit too protective of Ellie and Ben was fairly sure she wasn’t encouraging a relationship.
What are you up to, Ellie? Is he part of your own private investigation?
On the way back from the bathroom, a short hallway displayed several framed photographs. The one near the bedroom door was from Ellie’s wedding, a formal image including Jack and Gabi. Two others were scenery from Ellie’s travels, and then one of her with Michael on the set of his TV show. Ben remembered the day because he’d taken the photo and somewhere, he had a copy. “Dammit, Mikey.”
There was a tap on the front door. “I hope you’re in there!” Ellie called.
He swung the door open and took a box of shopping from her arms.
“Left my key card and had to get the concierge to let me back through downstairs.” She went to the kitchen. “Just put it there, thanks. Thought I’d get food at the same time. Can you find glasses and open the wine?”
As Ellie unpacked, Ben collected glasses from a cupboard where he’d spotted them earlier. The wine was a dry white, ice cold, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to share it with Ellie. Sit in the semi dark watching the storm. Talk about anything. Or nothing.
Except he was here as a detective. Not her… whatever he once was.
“I might need to go.”
“Now?” Ellie straightened from the fridge. “But…okay. I guess you have work to do.” Her hands gripped each other and Ben frowned. She was scared. Unsure.
He opened the wine. “Finished work, so if you really want to share a glass, I will.”
The relief on her face shocked Ben. This was all so much harder on Ellie than she gave away. So brave and so good at making everyone else feel good.
“Yeah. Okay, it will give you time to tell me more about what’s happening. With stuff.”
Two wines poured, shopping packed away, they moved back to the sofa.
The wine was smooth and oh-so-drinkable and Ellie swallowed half a glass before speaking again. Ben’s presence brought a strange comfort. Not because it was Ben, of course, almost any company would help stop the crazy thoughts from spinning out of control.
Except Meredith, or Dennis. Or Paul. Or gym man. Not their company.
She almost giggled as she mentally crossed off at least three people she’d previously enjoyed spending time with. Maybe not Meredith so much. Definitely not gym man, whatever his real name was. It was a stretch to come up with anyone. Campbell? Some of the staff? Where were all the friends she’d had?
“Ellie?”
“Hm? Sorry. I haven’t cooked a meal in ages. More than a month.” There was no reason for him to know that, but the words tumbled out. “And I miss it. I miss making the apartment beautiful and inviting my friends over. I miss cooking all afternoon and selecting nice wine and creating cocktails. Laughing out on the balcony in summer and sitting around the fireplace in winter. I do.”
“And croquembouche?” Ben grinned.
“I do not miss croquembouche at all! You remembered that?” Ellie shook her head. “The perfect dessert they said. It will be easy, they said. Except they lied and it collapsed in a heap and the profiteroles ended up on the floor.”
“Not all of them. We managed to save some and they were yummy with ice cream.”
We. You and Michael.
As Ellie had stood by the table with her hands in the air, Michael and Ben had scrambled to catch the little balls of deliciousness before they hit the ground. And when Ellie was ready to cry at the waste of time, effort, and food, those two found three bowls, scooped ice cream into each, and split the saved profiteroles three ways.
A sudden pounding in her chest brought Ellie back to now. Ben watched her, his expression closed. If he wanted to talk about Michael, then he needed to raise the subject. But he’d better not want to.
“May I have some more wine please, since you have the bottle on your side of the coffee table.” Ellie finished the rest of her glass as he reached for it. He topped up hers, but not his. He was going to leave soon.
“You want to talk about the case.”
“I looked in Dad’s safe at work earlier. Before anyone else arrived. Well, Campbell was there, but downstairs for something. Dad’s gun was there. And don’t look at me with such disapproval, Detective. He owns three handguns, and each is registered and properly maintained. He retrains annually and has never had to use one.”
“Then why?” Ben leaned back. “He has a security team. Cameras everywhere and Paul Dekeles on call. Tell me why he needs three handguns?”
“Because he does. For goodness sake, Ben, you know his history.”
“His father?”
Ellie nodded. “Dad grew up in fear. Not for himself, but his mother, his siblings. It is why he took martial arts lessons and learned to box. One doesn’t live with a drug trafficking parent and not know how to protect themselves.”
“Jack’s father is long dead.”
“But would it ever really end? He’s never told me much but I’ve done my research and can only imagine what his life as a child was like. Strangers arriving at any hour of the night. Evicted from one house after another. Never in a school for more than a few months. And the violence.”
She put the wine glass on the table.
Lightning struck somewhere close and she jumped. A long roll of thunder shook the building. The room was almost dark but when she looked at Ben, her heartbeat steadied.
“Jack spent his life proving he wasn’t like his father, Ellie. His hard work and dedication gave you—gave you and Michael—everything he lacked growing up. But he is still the sum of his past. And it shows sometimes.”
She bristled, crossing her legs away from Ben. “I don’t need a trip to the past.”
“There are things you don’t know about.”
Stop.
She closed her eyes. Not now. Not ever. Ellie knew more than enough. But the phone call with Kerry played over in her mind.
Dad is the problem.
Ellie opened her eyes and swung back to Ben. “First we need to find Dad, okay? I’m not ready to talk about him, or Michael, or…or us. Not until Dad is safe.”
She reached for her wine and sipped, watching Ben over the rim. His eyes were so dark, impossible to read. And he sat so still, so able to hide his emotions. It never used to be like this.
He put his glass beside the wine bottle. “I saw the photograph I took. Of you and Michael. Has Jack ever been to visit him?”
It was all she could do to not scream. “Did I not explain myself? Get...out.”
He didn’t move.
Ellie found herself on her feet. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, so focused on her handbag, still on the counter where she’d left it.
“Ellie—”
“Please go.”
She was all too aware of Ben standing, then striding to the front door. She up-ended the bag to empty it. The door opened as she ran a hand over the contents. Something was wrong here. Among her makeup and receipts and keys was something she’d completely forgotten she had. The door began to close.
“Ben! Ben, wait.”
His face appeared around the door, cautious.
“Oh my God. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Ben shut the door and crossed the distance. “What’s wrong?”
She looked up, tears streaming down her face. “How did I forget? Its Dad’s pen.”