“Claire’s missing!” Lynette burst out the second she caught sight of Alicia and Missy turning off Repentance Way and back towards the lodge.
They were hot and flushed, and Alicia felt like she’d run a marathon that day, but that very sentence gave her a shot of adrenaline, and she picked up the pace, racing to Lynette’s side.
“What do you mean?” she said, glancing towards Perry, who was coming out of the lodge behind her.
“I just checked her room again,” he said, also sounding breathless. “She’s not there. Can’t find her anywhere. But that’s not the worst of it.” He gave Lynette a little shove. “You tell them the worst of it.”
“I’m not telling them! It was your idea to send her snooping around Simon.”
“Simon?” said Alicia. “What’s going on, guys?”
Perry gulped. “We can’t find him either. Simon’s also missing.”
“And then there were six,” said Missy, but she wasn’t even smiling when she said it.
~
Flo was seated at the small desk in her room, trying hard to block out all the kerfuffle. It had been difficult enough giving Ronnie the slip. Fortunately, her friend had gone for a walk, and that would keep her occupied for a bit. The woman seemed intent on sticking to Flo’s side, like she was worried she’d suddenly drop, or worse.
Well, Flo wasn’t quite finished yet.
Still, it was hard to concentrate with all the excitement. Perry had burst in first—had she seen Claire? Then Lynette came with the same question, followed by Perry again this time wondering about Simon. Finally Flo had the wherewithal to lock her door behind them.
The young things really were like headless chooks. A suspicious bunch, their minds tangling in all directions, acting like amateur Poirots. If only they knew that life would work out for them in the end. It always did for the young and pretty. Well, almost always…
Life was rushing up to Flo now, death banging loudly on her door. She smiled, thinking of Lynette who was, indeed, young and pretty. Foolish, too, like she’d said. Hopefully the young lass would sort herself out before she went the way of others; before she brought her own proverbial widow maker down upon her head.
How clever Lynette was, though, working out her secret! Outwitting even Ronnie. Flo thought she’d been clever herself, hiding her deterioration, her nausea and loss of appetite. She still had a surprising amount of energy, but that would not last long. Her doctor had already informed her of that. Her motor skills would go first, then her mind. That was the bit she was most terrified of, which was why she had to get her skates on, as her grandchildren would say.
“Get your skates on, Nan! Haven’t got all day!”
They were always in a hurry, young people, weren’t they? Always in such a dreaded rush. Still, that might be where she went wrong. Perhaps she should have done all this sooner.
She reached for the official Lyle stationery and began to write them all a lovely goodbye letter…
~
The original book club members were huddled in another locked room, this time belonging to Claire, and as expected, everything was in its place. Except, of course, for Claire.
“Where could she be?” said Missy, perched on the edge of Claire’s meticulously made bed, trying not to ruffle it.
“Let’s think about this logically,” said Alicia, who’d dropped into the desk chair, exhausted. “Who saw her last?”
“We all did,” said Perry. “Remember, we went off in different directions? You guys headed off on the trail, Lynny went to speak to Flo, and I went back to the library and asked Ronnie a few questions.”
“What did Ronnie say?” Missy asked, and Alicia held a hand up.
“Can we get to our findings in a minute. I want to know where the bloody hell Claire is. And why Simon is missing too!” She took a steadying breath. “So, we all separated, and Claire went to investigate Simon’s real identity.” Her eyes widened. “You did check Simon’s room?”
Lynette and Perry nodded. “No answer.”
“Damn it.”
“I think we should tell them what we learned,” said Missy. “It could be the key.”
“Are you talking about Blake now?” said Lynette. “Don’t tell me he works for Living Large Enterprises. Please don’t tell me that.”
“No, possum, he works for the Murdoch press,” said Missy. “He’s not the new owner, Lynny, he’s a journalist.”
Lynette’s lips formed a perfect circle.
Perry said, “I never would’ve guessed.”
“I would,” said Alicia. “In fact I did, remember? Then you started raving about Blake being related to Donal Murphy, and one thing led to another and we got sidetracked. Turns out Blake was here to research a story for the fiftieth anniversary of the Great Fire. Sometimes, people, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…” She cocked her head to one side. “In any case, none of this is helping us find Claire!”
Lynette had a hand up now. “Just a second, please. I think I need to enjoy this a moment longer.” She slapped Perry with one of her smug smiles. “Are you saying I was right all along? That Blake is not some mad killer; he was here for a perfectly reasonable purpose?”
“I’m not sure about reasonable,” Alicia shot back. “He obviously used us to come up and poke about and write some salacious article. Jackson spoke to Blake’s boss at the Telegraph. They said he was about to expose someone or something, didn’t know much more than that, said he was out on a limb on this one and about to reveal something big.”
“Something explosive!” added Missy.
“That’s not the worst bit,” said Alicia. “They still haven’t heard from Blake.”
“Still?” Lynette didn’t look so smug now.
Alicia nodded. “It is his car burnt-out down there, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. He’s vanished from the face of the earth. Like Claire. Which is why I really want to try to focus on finding her.”
“But hang on,” said Lynette. “If Blake isn’t the new owner, who is? Ronnie?” She was looking at Perry sceptically, and he shook his head.
“We had a good chat earlier, and I don’t think she has anything to do with any of this. Certainly has no connection to LLE. She hasn’t mentioned her wealth because it’s not polite, apparently. I think it’s a generational thing.”
“I hate talking about money,” said Missy.
“That’s because you don’t have any, honey,” said Perry, giving her a sad smile. “So that leaves Simon and Flo.”
“It’s not Flo,” said Lynette. “Turns out death is not polite conversation either.”
She then broke the news about Flo’s prognosis, and that left them even gloomier.
“Oh dear,” said Alicia, resting her chin in one hand. “I never would have picked that. Well done, Lynny. The poor, poor thing.”
“Why didn’t she say something?” said Missy, her eyes popping with tears. “I wished she’d told me!” She reached for a tissue as the tears became streams. “I really… like… Flo!”
Alicia pulled her into a hug while Perry gave Missy’s arm a rub.
“Flo thought the truth would be a turn-off,” Lynette told them. “She was worried we’d reject her from the group, and she just wanted one final adventure.”
“Well, she’s certainly getting that,” said Alicia, and they settled into a glum silence before Alicia sat back. “Listen, it’s awful about Flo, but we can’t get side-tracked. We need to find Claire. If Flo’s not involved with LLE, that just leaves Simon.”
She turned to Missy. “Are you okay? Can you show them what you found?”
Missy nodded and wiped her eyes before producing her smartphone and swiping her way to the relevant image. It was a screenshot from LLE’s company website with a list of the Executive Team. She zoomed in on the words Managing Director/Owner. Then she swiped for the next photo. It was a picture of Mr Simon Barrier BCA. He had an expensive suit on and a clipped beard, but there was no mistaking that dark handsome face.
It was the face of Simon Crete.
~
As they stormed up the hallway in the direction of Simon’s room, Perry was kicking himself internally the whole way.
“I thought you’d already checked his room,” said Alicia, trailing with the others behind him.
“We just knocked. And way too politely. This time I’m not going to take silence for an answer! Simon has to be in there. Where else is he going to be? And I bet you any money he’s got Claire cowering in there with him.”
Alicia recoiled as an image of Claire appeared before her eyes. She was chained to Simon’s bed, a dirty scarf around her mouth, the fraudster looming with a shiny syringe… Her step quickened.
Perry came to a grinding halt when he reached Simon’s door, and the others almost toppled over behind him. He took a deep breath, then raised his hand and began banging loudly. This time he called out as he did so.
“Open up! We know you’re in there, Mr Barrier!” He glanced back at the others with a self-satisfied smile. “If you don’t open this door immediately, we are breaking it down!” Then, considering the hard timber frame, he added, “Or coming in via the balcony at the very least!”
They all waited another minute, then he raised his hand to bang again when there was a soft click and the door opened to reveal Claire peering through from the other side, a meek smile on her face.
~
The luminescent blue gin looked way too festive for the occasion, and even worse when you mixed it with tonic because it turned a blushing shade of pink. Which was the same shade now covering the cheeks of both Claire and Simon, who were swallowing it down like it was water.
It was almost dinnertime, but none of them had an appetite, and that suited Claire, who steered them to the bar for a settling gin and tonic and a chance to explain.
She had been completely mortified when Simon busted her in his room earlier that afternoon, but her blush was nothing compared to his. No sooner had he spotted his wallet in her shaky hands, he had secured the door, dropped onto his bed and hung his head low, apologising profusely. He knew immediately what she was up to and didn’t blame her.
“I should have told you! Of course I should,” he’d said. “It’s just that things started to go a little berserk with the bodies piling up and the fire down the hill. But I had nothing to do with any of that. You have to believe me!”
And for the life of her, Claire did, especially after hearing the full story. Now she was determined her friends hear it too, preferably over a drink. Perry was determined that drink be “top shelf,” and with Grange Hermitage now tainted in his mind forever, he reached for Husk Distiller’s Ink Gin.
“The bastards even try to charge us for this, I’ll sue,” he said, then, realising the bastard was actually amongst them, he added, “Got a problem with that? Whatever your name is?”
“It’s Simon Barrier and no, I do not,” Simon replied, pushing the bottle towards Perry. “Finish it off for all I care. In fact, I’ve already arranged for the entire weekend to be reimbursed to you all. I am so, so sorry about everything.”
“Humph!” Perry said, adding another splash of gin to his tonic.
“And I’m sorry we didn’t let you into Simon’s room earlier,” Claire said. “He was still trying to explain it all to me, and I needed to get it straight.”
“If he’s giving you a straight story!” Perry snapped back.
“Perry…,” Claire began, but Simon placed a hand on her forearm.
“It’s okay, he has every right to be angry with me. You all do. And it’s not your job, Claire, to apologise on my behalf. I’m the one who let you all down, badly.” He glanced out towards the corridor. “Should we wait for Flo and Ronnie before we get into it?”
“No way, Mr Secret,” said Lynette. “I’ve spent the past two days defending Blake when you’re the one who’s been lying. I want to hear what you have to say.”
“Actually, Lynny,” said Missy, nose wrinkled. “If you think about it, Blake was lying too. He didn’t tell any of us he was a journo. He told you he was a ‘businessman,’ didn’t he Alicia?” She glanced at Alicia but was caught in Lynette’s glowering cross fire, so she cleared her throat and said, “But that’s not important now, is it, kitten? You were saying, Simon?”
He nodded. “I didn’t mean to lie, not really. It all made so much sense at the beginning.”
“Then why don’t you start there,” said Alicia, who was still struggling to make the pieces fit.
He took a gulp of his own drink, then exhaled loudly and said, “It all started with you, Alicia.”
“Really?” She looked mortified.
“Yes, when you booked the club in.” He stopped, swirling the glass in his hand. “Actually, scrap that. It started even before then. My company, LLE, had recently purchased this lodge and were trying to decide what to do with it. Whether to go large and seriously renovate or tread gently and return it to its former glory.”
“We already saw the DA,” Perry said. “We know which way you were heading, so you can drop the spin.”
A wrinkle crossed Simon’s forehead. “That’s my business partner’s dream. Not mine. He wanted to see how much he could push through council. I was leaning more towards the low-footprint option. Nothing has yet been decided. I get final veto.”
Perry rolled his eyes like he did not believe him, but Simon forged on.
“That’s when I hatched the plan. I’d been in our New York office when we purchased the property as part of a growing portfolio, so I’d only seen it online. I wanted to experience it for myself. And not as a VIP. You never get treated normally when they know who you are. Never get the genuine experience. I wanted to come incognito as a regular paying guest. Get a feel for the place and see what real guests are thinking—before it all gets changed irrevocably.”
Perry scoffed again, and Simon shot him a frown and tried to explain.
“We’d had a bad experience with a previous investment, you see. I’d let Tommo, my business partner, run with it, and he’d gone the full monty—ripped all the character out of the place, changed the guest type entirely, and I wasn’t convinced it was for the better. It’s a resort in the Blue Mountains, you might have heard of it.” He shook his head. “Anyway, that’s not important. What’s important here is that we got Alicia’s booking enquiry. She wanted to bring her book club up and asked if we could accommodate them.”
“You sent the booking to LLE and didn’t remember it?” said Perry, surprised, but Alicia quickly shook her head.
“No. I filled in the lodge’s online booking form and added a note about the book club, asking if they had a private room for us to run the meetings. That’s all I did.”
“Vale must have received it,” said Simon, taking up the story again. “He passed it on to my personal assistant, Queenie, wondering whether we were still taking in paying guests or if he should now officially close the books. Queenie brought it to me, and that’s when I saw the opportunity.”
“To lie to us?” said Perry, still unforgiving.
“As I explained, I only wanted to trial the place as a guest.” He blushed again and snuck a glance at Claire. “Truth is, I also loved the sound of your book club. I really did. It seemed ideal for a place like this. That’s when Queenie and I hatched the plan for me to use a pseudonym and come along so I could check it all out and immerse myself in what sounded like such a wonderful weekend, have a little fun while I was at it. It’s been a very trying year…”
“Oh diddums,” said Lynette, not buying into the flattery. “You’ve certainly had fun at our expense.” She was in Perry’s camp and unsure what to think of all this. It felt like a very roundabout way of researching a development project. Why not just survey the paying guests? “So you came up with the name Simon Edward Crete—Secret—and infiltrated us. You must have thought you were very clever.”
“Actually the name was all Queenie’s idea. She’s an avid Agatha Christie fan. She’d make a great addition to your club, actually. What she doesn’t know about the author would fit on a postage stamp.” His eyes slipped to Alicia. “Queenie’s the one who wrote that lovely letter. On my behalf. That’s why it was so successful.”
Alicia nodded. Now it made more sense.
“Queenie’s a damn sight smarter than I am,” Simon continued. “I didn’t even realise what she’d done until you lot started talking about Mr U. N. Owen during book club, and that’s when it hit me. She’d given me a crazy nom de guerre, and I hadn’t even noticed! I was so embarrassed and so worried you’d all work it out and think I was playing games.”
“Well, you got that part right,” said Perry.
“I wasn’t trying to be conniving, honestly. I just didn’t want the name Simon Barrier or LLE anywhere near the booking. I’d never met Vale in person, so I didn’t think he’d recognise my face, but I had a hunch he’d know the name and, as I say, treat me differently. That’s when Queenie suggested the new surname. I guess she didn’t figure on you lot working it out.”
“We are the Murder Mystery Book Club, you know!” said Missy, but Alicia was now shaking her head.
“I think Vale did suspect something,” she said, wondering if it was Simon he was referring to when he used the word “imposter,” not Blake.
As Simon swigged his drink, Alicia stared hard at the developer. He had a distinguished, slightly crumpled look about him, but perhaps he was really a smooth operator. Was he telling them the whole truth, she wondered? Or what they wanted to hear? Was the DA really his partner’s doing, or was he spinning them a tale to get them off his back? And, more importantly, was he capable of killing two people to hide his true identity and force his DA through?
It seemed like such a stretch, but she didn’t know who or what to believe anymore.
She said, “Okay then, Mr Barrier, tell me this. Once Vale was murdered, why didn’t you speak up?”
“Or when the phones went out and the fire started?” said Perry.
“Or after we found poor Mrs Flannery for that matter?” added Lynette.
He glanced at each set of accusing eyes. “I know, I should have. I almost did so many times. I already explained all of this to Claire. I deeply regret my silence now, but I thought Vale’s death was innocent, and then the fire started and Mrs Flannery was found… it all happened so fast. Suddenly you were looking at us newcomers like we were all guilty, and I didn’t think confessing to using a fake name was going to exactly help my position.”
“Who cares about your position?” said Lynette. “It might help us get out of here alive!”
He held up a placatory palm. “I can assure you all, Queenie is very aware of the situation and has the LLE chopper ready to winch us out if it comes to that. That’s why I’ve been preparing the rooftop as a helipad, clearing away the debris, marking the safest landing zone up there for the chopper pilot to see should it become necessary.”
“That’s what you’ve been doing up there all this time?” said Claire.
He nodded. “It’s the only potential landing zone for miles, but it’s not ideal. There are numerous overhanging branches and a power pole that’s a little too close for comfort. Plus the chopper can only take two passengers at a time, so I’ve been hoping the fire brigade will get on top of it and we can all leave safely together. That was my final task—making sure we had an adequate exit route—then I was going to come clean. I assure you.”
“Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you?” said Perry. “That fire’s still going, you know. We still have to spend another night here at its mercy.”
“It has calmed considerably, and there’s rain predicted. Good falls, I believe. My expectation is that we’ll be out of here by midmorning tomorrow,” Simon said.
“You’ve been sneaking off to the escarpment and speaking to Benson at the RFS,” said Alicia.
“I have been calling out but not to the RFS. As I say, Queenie is my eyes and ears. I’ve been in touch with her, and she’s monitoring it all from Sydney. The weather forecast is for early-morning rain. That will douse it, you will see.”
“Okay, then Queenie must have mentioned you to Benson,” said Alicia, “because he told Jackson that the owner is up here amongst us.”
Simon was firmly shaking his head. “He wasn’t talking about me, I can assure you. The only person who knows I’m here is my PA, and she would never betray my confidence, not without my permission. She hasn’t even told Tommo what I’m up to, or our chopper pilot for that matter. He thinks he’s getting ready to winch out some paying guests. Again, it’s imperative that I see how the entire operation works when they think it’s just ordinary folk, not the managing director.”
“I’m not sure I like being called ordinary folk,” said Perry.
“I’m not sure I like being a puppet in your little experiment either,” said Lynette.
“Oh deary me, this is all a bit intense,” came a croaky voice from the doorway, and they swung around to find Flo walking in, a light shawl around her shoulders, some pink lipstick smudged across her lips, clearly applied with a shaky hand. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine!” said Lynette, flashing Simon a scowl as she slipped off her bar stool. “How are you, Flo? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, dear, now you mustn’t fuss.”
“Let’s get you to a chair,” said Simon.
“Let’s move into the dining room,” said Lynette. “I’ll get the stew. I think we could all do with something in our stomachs other than lies and deceit.”
Simon received another scowl as she padded off to the kitchen.
~
The book club took their seats around the dining table, and Alicia took one of Flo’s hands and squeezed it gently. “Lynette told us your news, and I am so, so sorry.”
“Oh pft!” she said, shaking her off. “Lynette never should have mentioned it. She’s very naughty! Please, can we enjoy our tea without any more discussion of death and dying?”
“Of course,” said Alicia, glancing towards the corridor. “Is Ronnie on her way?”
Ronnie had been glued to Flo’s side lately, and now it made more sense to Alicia. She was obviously looking out for her ailing buddy.
“Oh, she said to start without her; she’ll be here soon,” Flo chirped, then clapped her hands as Lynette placed a large casserole dish in the middle of the table. “That smells delicious, dear!”
“That’s because it is delicious, Flo,” replied Lynette, ladle pointing at the older woman, “and you are going to eat some of it tonight, okay?”
Flo cackled and held out her plate.
For the next thirty minutes, everyone did as Flo had requested and enjoyed the heavy beef dish and kept the conversation light. But it didn’t stop their brains from stewing with questions and concerns.
Missy was wondering how on earth she hadn’t noticed that poor Flo was dying. And why the darling woman hadn’t felt brave enough to tell them!
Alicia was still wondering whether Simon was lying. Like Blake, he had signed up for the club under false pretences, and like Blake, his career had a dark side. Could this developer really be trusted?
Claire was thinking about the rest of her conversation with Simon in his room before the group caught up with them. A conversation they had not yet repeated. They had both agreed to keep it to themselves for now, even though she knew how much her friends despised lying. Yet how could she ’fess up now? And was it really even important?
And Perry was thinking of Snowy and suddenly kicking himself! He went to speak, then stopped, remembering what Flo had said. No more talk of death and dying. Except this wasn’t about death and dying. This was just idle gossip, right?
“You all right, dear?” said Flo. “You look ready to pop.”
He pushed a hand to his lips and finished his mouthful while the others watched him curiously, then he said, “Sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you! In all the excitement over Claire, it slipped my mind entirely. You’ll never guess who Snowy is? Not in a million years.”
They all continued to stare, none of them offering an answer, so he burst out with it.
“He’s Jack Lyle! The founder Arthur Lyle’s son.”
“Who?” said Flo.
“What?” said Lynette.
“Our hut dweller, Snowy, is really a Lyle!” he repeated, then waved a hand around them. “This place is his!”
“No way!” said Missy.
He chuckled, thrilled by their reaction. “I know! Quite a revelation! Ronnie recognised him from an early photo in the Lyle family tome.”
“Are you sure she’s got that right?” said Alicia, wondering why Snowy never mentioned anything.
And that was only her first question. She wanted to know why he was living like a squatter out in the forest when, for another month at least, he owned his own hotel with plenty of spare bedrooms and properly functioning bathrooms. Not to mention a fully stocked kitchen.
“Ronnie recognised him from his mop of snowy-white hair,” Perry was saying. “That’s where his nickname came from. But he was in a photo with his wife Lydia. It’s many years old and he doesn’t have the hair anymore, but he’s just as tall and skinny. I only saw him from a distance but seems about right to me. How many other Lyleton Snowys would there be?”
Missy’s head had started nodding madly. “I thought he was an odd-bod! I knew he’d been to the lodge. I reckon he helped himself to one of our Agatha Christie books.”
Simon looked at her bemused, then turned to Alicia. “Perhaps that’s who the fire chief was referring to when he said the owner was up here. Perhaps he meant the original owner, not me.”
“Perhaps,” said Alicia, chewing on her lip as it all began to sink in. It was Snowy who told her about the Lyle book and the paper road, so he obviously knew more than she realised. “Simon, did you know the original owner was living up here? Out near the escarpment?”
He shook his head firmly. “If I had known, I would have introduced myself.”
“But you did see him,” prompted Claire, and he nodded now.
“Yes, on my walk, soon after we arrived. I thought he was a squatter, if I’m being completely honest.”
“It’s too bizarre,” said Claire. “Why would Jack Lyle be living like a hobo out in the bush?”
“Maybe he had a breakdown?” said Lynette. “Or maybe he sold his share to the rest of the family years ago? He did say he’d rather slit his wrists than come to the lodge. Probably just wants to live the quiet life.”
“But in a crusty old hut?” said Perry. “It’s like he was in hiding.”
“It wasn’t crusty, Perry,” said Alicia. “It was actually quite nice inside. Furnished with stuff from the lodge, so that explains that. It also explains why Vale was carting food to him. For all we know, Snowy was still his boss.”
There was a discreet cough, and they stopped prattling long enough to find Flo looking at them, her face wretched with worry. “I’m not sure what you’re all yakking about. You’ve lost me completely, but I am a little concerned for Ronnie.” She tapped her watch. “She should be back by now, and if there is some hobo out there in the forest, well…”
Alicia sat forward. “Ronnie’s out in the forest?”
“Yes, dear, didn’t I say that?”
No. No, she did not.
“She went to talk to somebody, she said. Had her little portable phone with her,” said Flo.
“Ah, probably phoning her nephews,” said Simon. “She’s quite fixated with them. Has been trying to contact them since she got here.”
“That’ll be it!” said Claire. “She’ll be back soon enough, and even if she does encounter Snowy, well, he’s perfectly harmless, right?”
They all nodded, but one of them less assuredly.
~
Ronnie sat in the dark hut, wincing as Snowy ranted and groaned and threw himself about the place, smashing items in his wake. When Lydia’s photo hit the ground, she really began to panic.
Should she make a run for it? Try to get some help?
Or should she do as he’d asked and sit there quietly, listening, waiting, knowing the end was coming and it was going to be horrific?
~
It wasn’t until the meal was finished and they were in the kitchen, putting it back into shape, that Alicia got a chance to mention her concerns to the others. She was becoming increasingly worried about Ronnie—if she was just making a phone call, why wasn’t she back yet? But first she had some more questions for Simon.
As he led the charge with the washing up, she said, “So your company never knew that the old owner was still here, living close by in the forest? The Lyle family didn’t think to mention it during the sale?”
“I can assure you, Alicia, it was never mentioned to me, but…” His face clouded over. “I can’t be absolutely sure my partner Tommo didn’t know something. He’s so intent on developing that escarpment, calls it the pièce de résistance of the entire property. Perhaps he’s been keeping it under wraps. I wouldn’t put it past him. The old hut could be heritage-listed for all we know. Might put a dent in his plans.”
“Why are you even in business with that man?” said Perry. “He sounds beastly.”
Simon shrugged. “It’s complicated. What I do know is that this lodge is held in a family trust and we’ve been dealing with a younger man, an Alexander Lyle, who is based in Sydney. He’s a great-nephew of the original owner, I believe. Perhaps Jack is no longer part of the trust anymore? Alex certainly never mentioned any uncle Jack to me. I assume Jack—Snowy—is his uncle. It’s all a bit cloudy now.”
It’s positively murky, Alicia wanted to tell him. “Okay, so you didn’t know Snowy was a Lyle, and he certainly never said anything to us. But I can’t help wondering how Snowy would feel about the sale of this place and the fact that you guys were considering building luxury villas on the very place he calls home.”
“I would never have allowed it if I’d known he had lodgings there,” said Simon.
“Yes, but it was part of the original DA, right?”
“What’s your point, Alicia?”
“My point is what if Snowy saw that DA? What if it infuriated him? He doesn’t know you have a right to veto. For all he knows he’s about to be booted from the only home he’s ever known. I can’t help wondering…”
She stopped and bit her tongue, feeling queasy again. Alicia had grown to like Snowy. He seemed genuine to her, salt of the earth. She leaned up against the oven and gave it more thought, but her mind kept circling back to one thing.
“I can’t help wondering,” she repeated, “if Snowy is somehow involved in all this.”
“How so?” asked Claire, looking up from the kitchen bench she was wiping.
“What if… I don’t know… he heard about the development plans and was enraged. What if he decided he’d rather burn the place down then let some big city developer come in and mess with the family estate?”
“Goodness me,” said Perry. “We’re going through suspects faster than a Christie novel!”
“Actually, Alicia’s half-right,” said Lynette, emerging from the cold room. “I don’t think Snowy cares what happens to the lodge per se—he loathes the place, that’s what he told me—but I do know he adores that escarpment. Said they’d have to remove him from the mountain in a coffin.”
Alicia frowned. “Exactly what I’m worried about. Maybe he started the fire. Maybe that was his intention all along.”
“Except…,” began Missy, who’d been busily drying dishes. “If Snowy loves it so much, why burn it down?”
Alicia recalled something else Snowy had said. “Why let bloody tourists hog the prime real estate?” Would he rather destroy it than hand it to strangers?
“But hang on,” said Claire, also trying to keep up. “By that logic, you must also be saying that Snowy killed Vale and Mrs Flannery. Which seems preposterous! They were his friends; they were caring for him.”
Alicia swished her lips to the side. Yes, that was harder to reconcile.
Claire turned to Simon. “What was going to happen to the staff after the sale went through?”
“We’ve already found most of them work in our other resorts, and we did the same for Vale and Joan Flannery. I always try to re-employ staff when we redevelop an existing property.”
“Aren’t you a saint,” said Perry.
Simon looked at him. Hard. “You are going to have to try to forgive me at some stage, Mr Gordon.”
Perry glanced away. The truth was he did forgive Simon. He was just enjoying holding on to his grudge. It was a nice distraction from what was going on around them.
Simon continued, “We offered both Vale and Mrs Flannery temporary positions at our revamped Blue Mountains resort, the one I was telling you about earlier. Then, once the renovations here were complete, they were invited to come back. Vale has run a very tight ship for thirty years, been here for almost fifty-five. I wasn’t going to lose that kind of history and experience.”
“So what happened?” asked Claire.
“They both rejected the offer to come back. Mrs Flannery had requested a permanent move to the Blue Mountains and was waiting on some paperwork, and Vale said he would retire, and I can’t say I blamed him. He has done a great job up here, but it can be exhausting, thankless work, and he’s way past retirement age. I can’t think why he stayed on all these years, frankly.”
“He stayed on for Snowy,” said Alicia quietly.
“So why would Snowy then kill him?” said Claire. “Seems illogical.”
“Maybe Snowy thought they were deserting him, shifting to the dark side.” Alicia offered Simon an apologetic smile. “That’s you, you’re the dark side. No offence.”
He smiled back. “None taken.”
“Maybe after all these years Snowy felt betrayed and lashed out at them and then the whole place by starting the fire.”
“He’s pushing eighty, Alicia!” said Perry.
“So? You don’t think he can strike a match or inject a needle or swing a bottle of red at someone’s head? He already told me he trekked all the way to Cooper’s Crossing this morning. Who’s to say he didn’t do it the day before to start the fire? Snowy might be old, but he’s very switched on and seems fit as a fiddle.”
“And so sweet!” said Lynette. “He was so lovely to me.”
“Yes, and I’m not saying he wishes us any harm,” said Alicia. “He told us about the paper road, so I’m sure he doesn’t. But I wonder if that’s because we had no idea who he was. Maybe that very factor gave us some protection.” She drew in a quick breath. “Hang on, Perry. Didn’t you say Ronnie pointed Snowy out to you?”
“Yes, why?”
“What did you say after that? Did you tell her that Snowy is still alive and living in the forest?”
“Of course, but—” He gulped. “Oh dear. You don’t think she went to talk to him, do you?”
“Flo said that Ronnie went to talk to somebody. Maybe it wasn’t her nephews at all. Maybe Ronnie wanted to reconnect with Snowy. They have history, right?”
Perry had paled. “Oh dear Lord. She said something to me about a fling she had with some ‘unavailable young gentleman’ back in 1969. What a mistake that had been. I wonder if she meant Snowy?” He gulped, looking at Alicia. “You don’t think he wants to hurt her, do you?”
Alicia frowned. “If she tells him she knows who he is, then… maybe?” She glanced out towards the dining room door. “If Ronnie was going for a walk, why isn’t she back now that it’s dark?”
They all stared through the kitchen window, looking for answers and finding only swirling shadows.
~
The lodge torches were bright, but it didn’t make the trek along Repentance Way any easier for Simon and Perry as they strode back to Snowy’s cabin. It didn’t help that the moon was lost behind the smoky clouds and that there wasn’t a single trace of cabin light filtering through the foliage.
That had them both worried.
They had volunteered for Ronnie’s search and rescue, and Alicia was relieved. Lynette’s stew had fortified them all, but her legs weren’t going anywhere else tonight but bed.
“There it is,” said Perry, surprised that there wasn’t so much as a candle flickering.
It sent prickles down his spine. He knew the hut was connected to the power lines—had seen the line for himself earlier today—so he wondered why Snowy didn’t have his lights on, especially if he had Ronnie visiting. They hadn’t passed her on the track so could only assume she was still in there. Could only hope she was still okay.
“I wish we’d thought to bring a weapon,” said Perry. “There’s already two bodies. I’m not keen to be the third.”
“Ronnie could be the third, let’s pick up our pace,” said Simon.
As they stepped into the clearing, they stopped to listen but could hear nothing other than an eerie rustling in the bushes around them and the distant coo of a Sooty Owl. No sound of chatter or laughter or old lovers catching up.
They swapped a wary look and crept even closer until they were standing outside the front door. Again, they were met with terrifying silence.
“Keep your torch ready,” whispered Perry as they creaked the door open. If required, it could work as a makeshift weapon.
The darkness inside took some adjusting to, but when their eyes finally focused, they both inhaled at the same time. There were two other people in the cabin. One was coiled up on the bed, the other perched in a rocking chair beside it.
They were both so still, both sets of eyes closed, that Perry could not be sure who was who and what if anything was going on.
Then he heard a slow creak and the person in the chair sat forward and looked at him with a grim smile.