Vince carried a cup of coffee outside, quietly closing the front door with the intention of sitting on the porch to watch the sun rise. It was too cold to stay still so he wandered around to check on the pony. She nickered a welcome and nudged him until he set the cup down and gave her an early breakfast. The pony was ageing. Susie’s, from twenty or so years ago. Nevertheless, she was fit and if Melanie was so inclined, would probably be willing to wear a bridle again.
‘Morning, Vincent.’
He’d noticed Lyndall was moving livestock in one of her paddocks but hadn’t seen her cross her driveway. His first reaction was to grunt and go back inside but manners took over. Manners and a sudden thought.
He joined her at the fence. ‘Thanks for the flowers. It was nice of you.’
She rested her arms on the top rail and gazed at him from under the wide-brimmed, oilskin hat she almost always wore. ‘Your little grandchild has come to live with you.’
Do you miss anything?
‘I remember meeting Melanie a couple of years ago. Susie brought her up to the house.’
‘She’s a good girl.’ He didn’t know what else to say.
‘Of course she is. Look at her mother. And grandfather.’
A silence stretched out between them. They’d been neighbours for decades. She’d been friends with Marion. Helped out when Susie was growing up. But they’d barely acknowledged each other since his estrangement with his daughter. She’d drawn some line in silent disapproval.
Lyndall straightened. ‘Anyway, the cows won’t move themselves.’
Ask her.
‘Okay. Well, thanks again,’ he said.
Lyndall took a few steps away before looking back. ‘If you ever need anything. Or a babysitter, then—’
‘Um, yeah. Are you sure?’
Her smile was suspiciously knowing. ‘When?’
‘Need to collect some of her things from Susie’s house. I can’t bring myself to take her there yet.’
‘Ten o’clock? I’ll bring Melanie something for morning tea.’
‘Appreciate it.’
She waved as she walked back across the driveway and climbed through the fence to her paddock.
He hated asking.
But just this once.
He’d find someone local who he could pay to help out if it came to that. Anything was better than making demands of a woman who had seen him at his worst. Who probably still judged him for Marion’s death.
He already regretted the conversation.
The fridge doors were open in the Weaver kitchen. Bradley leaned against a kitchen bench drinking orange juice—made by Susie from Carla’s beloved orange tree—straight from a jug. He’d already demolished half a plate of homemade cupcakes. Everything was still fresh. Delicious. Good thing Susie had given Carla keys in case she was helping with Melanie after school and the like.
Something had happened here. Fingerprint residue marked surfaces from the potted plants near the front door to the counters. It made no sense. Why would the police dust the place when the car accident was exactly that? An accident.
The fridge beeped in protest of being left open so long and he returned the jug and closed the doors. There were cooler bags in the walk-in pantry, and he put them on the bench to remind him to fill them before he left. No point the contents of the fridge and freezer going to waste.
He eyed the coffee machine but a quick glance at his watch was enough for him to head up to David’s office. In an hour he had a meeting and if there was any chance of salvaging this wreck of a week he needed to collect some ammunition.
As expected the desk was immaculate. Its drawers were orderly and disappointingly it was too modern to have secret compartments. A timber filing cabinet was locked which presented no problem. David kept the important stuff in a wall safe inside the walk-in-robe in the master bedroom. Good thing they shared each other’s combinations in case of emergency. Yeah, well this qualified.
He brushed against one of David’s suits and he paused, touching the lapel. The times he’d straightened David’s tie over the years. Smartened him up for meetings.
‘I miss you, mate.’
Losing David was a blow on many levels. Friend. Business partner. Confidante. But he would grieve in his own time. For now he had to make sure the business forged ahead because Melanie needed what was fairly hers.
The filing cabinet keys were in the safe and went into his pocket. He systematically searched through the remaining contents. Passports. Birth certificates and the like. A wad of cash. There was a thick, sealed envelope. Interesting. He reached for it.
Click.
He jumped at a sound from downstairs and grabbed the one thing he’d come for—a folder.
Afraid to be caught in here, Bradley closed the safe and reset the combination to something unlikely to be guessed by anyone else. He’d come back later.
From the top of the stairs the house was quiet. Nobody moved around. Clearly, all this cloak and dagger stuff was messing with his nerves.
The key to the filing cabinet did its job and Bradley helped himself to an armful of folders, sliding them into a briefcase he’d brought with him. He opened David’s laptop and searched its history, writing down an account number on a piece of paper he tore from a notepad. He’d take the laptop anyway but needed this number for the meeting.
Bradley folded the paper to put in his pocket.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
The paper dropped out of his fingers as he started.
‘You scared the crap out of me, Vince!’
Vince carried a small suitcase.
‘Why are you in the house, Pickering? This is private property.’
‘Gonna call the police, ex Officer Carter?’ He couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice but didn’t care. Vince Carter was a waste of space back when he was a cop and nowadays was little more than an obstacle to his and Carla’s access to Melanie. When Vince moved toward him he raised both hands to diffuse the situation. ‘Take it easy. You startled me. All I’m doing is collecting company paperwork David was bringing back to the office. I need it.’
He scooped up the fallen paper then reached for the laptop.
‘Leave it,’ Vince snapped.
‘Belongs to the business.’
‘Somebody broke in yesterday. Any idea what they were after?’
‘Ah, that explains the residue. Broke in here?’ Bradley gazed around the office. Nothing looked out of place. ‘Was anything stolen?’
‘Not stolen. Not that we can find yet. But the police have taken copious amounts of fingerprints and other trace.’
With a smile, Bradley closed the briefcase. ‘Mine will be everywhere. Carla’s as well.’
‘I’ll show you out.’
I need that laptop.
It didn’t matter for now. He had to get to the meeting and stalked past Vince, who followed. ‘Where’s Melanie? You didn’t leave her in the car alone?’
‘Where she is isn’t your business.’ Vince was right behind him coming down the stairs.
‘We’re her godparents, Vince.’ He opened the front door and turned to face the other man. ‘Carla’s going crazy wanting to see her. We want her to visit.’
Vince put the suitcase down and for an instant, Bradley’s heart raced in anticipation of being physically pushed out of the house. But Vince crossed his arms and stared. ‘What was David into?’
‘I don’t under—’
‘Maybe you’re as far in the shit as David was.’
‘Our business is above board.’
‘That crash was no accident,’ Vince said.
‘Well, the police said the road was icy.’
‘And what do you say, Bradley?’
Nothing which wouldn’t get him punched.
‘I’ll take the house keys. There’s no reason for you to have them.’
Bradley handed them over. ‘Still need the laptop and a lot more files.’
‘Then arrange it through David and Susie’s solicitor.’
‘Maybe Melanie should move in with us for a while. You obviously need time to grieve.’
Vince’s arms dropped and he stepped toward Bradley. ‘Maybe you should get out of here.’
As soon as Bradley was outside, the door shut behind him.
Vince waited until Bradley drove away before moving from the front door. He didn’t trust the other man not to have a second set of keys. He had no reason to dislike Bradley so much, but he always had. The fact he was married to Susie’s best friend had made for discomfort at the events they’d all been at, but he’d always stayed civil. For her sake.
Liz had dealings with them.
Why that popped into his mind was a mystery, but his old partner had been involved in a case surrounding Carla years ago and he couldn’t remember why or the outcome. He needed to ask her. Which meant dealing with a hundred worried questions from her.
With a shake of his head, Vince headed up to Melanie’s bedroom.
Raymond Bear was first into the suitcase, followed by more of her clothes. He’d asked her what she wanted him to bring this time and all she could think of was Raymond. She’d gone very quiet, and he didn’t press her for more ideas.
He found slippers, more shoes and pyjamas, a couple of jumpers and other warmer items. There was a cute, knitted hat and some little jars of hand cream or something, so those went in with a couple of books. All he could hope was he had enough for her for a little while. Until after the funeral.
Room by room he checked the house. Every window was locked. Back door locked. The laundry door had a sheet of timber nailed in place of glass and would be hard to get through.
He stopped at the sight of the cooler bags in the kitchen. They’d not been there the previous day. Bradley must have been planning to clean out the place.
‘Little shit.’
The fridge was well stocked. He packed what he could use into one cooler bag. Cheese. Cupcakes. Fruit. Yoghurt. He should give the rest away. Or throw away what was getting too old. Or something.
It had to wait. He had to meet with Susie’s solicitor, a last-minute appointment thanks to Lyndall’s availability this morning.
At the front door he put the suitcase and cooler bag down to find the keys.
He’d stood here another time. A bit more than a year ago. With his daughter.
‘Susie, you don’t understand what he’s doing to you both.’
‘I said to leave, Dad.’
She was furious. Her hands were on her hips and her face was red with anger. Vince had just found out David had been questioned about the immigration status of some of his employees. It wasn’t for the first time.
‘Sweetie, you need to think of Melanie.’
‘I am.’
‘Her being exposed to that kind of—’
‘Kind of what?’ Susie shook her head. ‘If there is an issue with the staff then David will fix it. He’s above board and always has been. The person I need to protect Melanie from is you.’
As if he’d been kicked in the gut, Vince had recoiled.
‘You live in the past, Dad. What I want is for you to get some help. Deal with Mum’s death and all the other crap. Start being the grandfather Melanie deserves.’
‘I don’t need help.’
All the anger had drained away from her, replaced by sadness. Her tone had flattened. ‘See? Just go, Dad. Come back once you’re ready to step up.’
Those were the last words they’d exchanged.
He’d gone away and sulked instead of changing and fixing their relationship.
Now he was forced to step up.
Too late.