Mia hadn’t ever eaten dinner alone with a man in that man’s house. Not even in her two previous relationships. Not that this was a date, not by a long shot, and she mustn’t make the mistake of reading more into his invitation than there was. This man was a reporter through and through and she’d just handed him a very juicy story. Whether he knew it or not his whole manner changed when he accepted that there may be another reason for Dad and Glenda’s deaths. She could almost see his nose twitching like a hound who’d sniffed his prey.
No matter what he told himself about the local stories he covered for his paper, potholes didn’t make it against a murder investigation. And she was glad.
Sitting opposite him at the table was comfortable. Eating alone wasn’t much fun, used to it though she was, and so, she assumed, was he.
‘This is nice.’ The words fell straight from her mind to her mouth and out into the space between them. She closed her mouth swiftly and concentrated on serving herself salad.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It is nice to have company for dinner. Thank you for coming.’
‘Thank you for inviting me.’ She flicked a smile on and off and twirled spaghetti onto her fork. He was being polite—but he’d assumed she meant the company not the food.
‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I’m enjoying having you here.’
His tone had changed. She looked up to discover him watching her, and smiled properly.
‘You have a wonderful smile,’ he said. ‘It’s like a burst of sunshine. A sunflower.’
Other people had told her that over the years. Her father, Glenda, Linda, sundry friends, men. Somehow, when Arlo said it the words meant more.
‘Thanks. I’ll try to smile more often.’
‘You should.’
‘When this is over I will.’
His smile faded. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. You haven’t had much to smile about.’
‘No, but a compliment is always welcome.’
Arlo emptied the bottle into their glasses.
‘You will have to walk me home to hold me up at this rate,’ she said.
‘If you’re not up to it you can sleep here. In the spare room,’ he added quickly.
‘I’m far from being incapable of walking,’ she said. ‘How many bedrooms do you have? This place looks quite small.’
‘Two. The second one is really a study but there’s a bed in there.’
‘You might have to move when your son comes to stay.’
‘We’ll manage. He stays here in his holidays.’
‘With just one suitcase of gear.’ She cocked an eyebrow his way. ‘I have a friend with three teenagers, two boys and a girl, and they have enough stuff to fill this whole flat. And you’ll need a bigger fridge. Fourteen, you said? He’d eat what we both ate tonight all by himself.’
‘You’re kidding.’
She shrugged and ate salad innocently. ‘Tina says they spread themselves from one end of the house to the other. A four-bedroom house with a family room and a living room.’
‘Well, he won’t be able to,’ Arlo said.
‘Is there space in his room for a desk as well as a bed?’
‘Not really. Maybe. He can use this table to study.’
‘What about when he has friends around?’
‘What about it?’
‘They’ll want some privacy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re teenagers. Think back. If you can.’
‘Maybe I should rent your house. After you’ve renovated.’ He smiled at her and she laughed but stopped suddenly.
‘Do you think anyone will want to rent it or buy it? Should I just have it bulldozed and sell the block?’
‘You might want to live here one day.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I wouldn’t. If I renovate the kitchen and repaint it should be okay. Dad kept the place in good order.’
‘Some people won’t mind its history.’
‘Is there a market for rentals here?’
‘There is. People are moving out of the city and we do have a couple of refugee families coming later in the year.’
‘I wouldn’t want a massive rent for it. I don’t need the money. Who do you recommend to do the work?’
‘Depends what you want done. I think you’d need to go to Wagga for a decent kitchen company but there are local tradesmen who can do flooring and benchtops. Giorgio Mendez is a good local painter.’
‘Thanks. I’ll call him tomorrow.’
Arlo collected the dirty dishes and took them to the sink. ‘I didn’t get dessert, I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning to entertain tonight. It was a spur of the moment invitation.’
‘I’m glad. And I don’t generally eat dessert.’
Arlo sat back down. ‘It’s strange. I feel as though I’ve known you for ages but we only met today.’
‘We met at the funerals,’ Mia said. Her throat had tightened. What was he saying? Was he trying to get her to stay? As attractive as he might be she wasn’t ready for anything else, anything that might distract from the purpose of their liaison. A more intimate relationship would be a complete disaster. Messy and unnecessary.
‘Sort of.’
‘Half a bottle of wine might be helping.’
He smiled. ‘Possibly. You’re right. It’s good to have company. You said so yourself.’
She relaxed against the back of the chair. Okay. ‘Yes, it is. You’ll have plenty of that when Riley arrives.’
But would his son deflect his attention from her problem? As if he’d read her mind he said, ‘I’m going to ask around about Glenda’s ex tomorrow. Find out what he does and I might drop in on her parents.’
***
The paper deliverers arrived early in the morning. Arlo had brought the stacks into the office and begun bundling for the areas covered. Marlene and Henk were, as usual, first to arrive. They lived a couple of houses along and did the run out to Jindalee, dropping papers at The Grange and the other farms along the way. They’d been bitten by the cruise bug a year or two ago so when they returned Henk always did a travel feature complete with photos. Their next jaunt was soon.
‘When are you off?’ Arlo asked.
‘Next Monday,’ Henk said. ‘Just a short trip round the Pacific Islands this time. Nine days.’
‘Take lots of photos.’
‘As always.’
‘I hear Mia Petros is in town,’ Marlene said. ‘Poor girl having to clean out that house all on her own. It’s an awful job at the best of times.’
‘Yes, I had a chat to her yesterday.’ No point pretending he hadn’t. The town would know already and half of them would know what they’d had for dinner.
‘What’s she going to do with the house?’
He reported what he knew.
‘Who would buy it? Who would want to live there?’ Marlene shuddered.
‘People with nowhere else to go, newcomers to town,’ said Henk. ‘It’s a nice house. Tony looked after it. He was in the real estate business so he knew. And he was a bit of a handyman.’
‘Did you know him well?’ asked Arlo.
‘Yes, I did. We played golf together.’
‘Did he say anything about the gun club?’
‘Like what?’
‘Why he joined, what was the attraction …?’
‘Not really. He liked the sport aspect, said it was a challenge. He wasn’t interested in guns per se. He said it was a good place to make contacts. He always had an eye on business, Tony did, but not in a pushy way. He made friends easily and if someone showed interest in a project he’d follow up but if they didn’t, he enjoyed their company and vice versa.’
‘Did he have any particular projects in mind?’
‘There was always something cooking. There was that development on the far side of Willoughby. You know the one? They want to build a country club type place with apartments on site and a restaurant. Barry, Glenda’s ex, is involved in it but back then they were having trouble getting approval. And the same mob has something else going on near Bindubi. A housing estate project with five-acre blocks. Actually, it was …’
The door opened and a crowd of deliverers came in chattering, and effectively stopped more conversation.
At ten Georgia came in with Charlotte in a stroller.
‘Sorry, I had to bring her. The minder rang and said she woke up with a raging sore throat.’
‘That’s okay. She gets bigger every time I see her. How old is she now?’
‘Nearly two and a half.’ She lifted Charlotte out and took off her woolly beanie and jacket. ‘Thank goodness it’s stopped raining. It’s clear as can be. Cold though.’
Charlotte stared up at Arlo with wide blue eyes under a mop of dark curls.
‘Hello,’ he said and was rewarded with a big grin displaying tiny white teeth.
‘Arl,’ she said and clapped her hands.
Arlo laughed. ‘You’re a real little sweetie, aren’t you?’
Charlotte turned and took her bunny from the stroller.
‘What have we got planned for the next issue?’ Georgia sat at her desk.
‘Road maintenance and those potholes near the bridge. They’re really bad. I took a couple of photos but I’d like you to get some better ones. We’ll make that our lead. I’ll tackle the council and see if I can get some answers.’
‘Okay.’
‘Krista and Amy have a new stallion at The Grange. You could get some photos of him and write that up.’ Arlo sat down and looked at the computer screen, scrolling through the page layout.
‘I’ll give them a call. Good. What else?’
‘We’ll need some footy photos this weekend. Krista is going to do a regular fashion tips column starting next issue. We’ll alternate it with Oliver’s Vet Advice.’
‘Great.’
‘We need some more local news. Just a couple of items. I’m going to see Laurie and Dot today and you could have a wander around and see if anything pops up. Maybe talk to Rupe or Shannon. Drop in on the mayor and see if anything’s brewing. Ask him for a comment on general road maintenance. We might get a two-page spread.’
Local pharmacist Vincent Ng was a feisty mayor. That road wasn’t in the town council’s jurisdiction but that didn’t stop Vincent firing off complaints. He’d welcome another chance to vent.
‘Any more info on the Petros affair?’
‘No. By the way, Riley’s coming to live with me for the rest of the year.’ He said it casually but nothing got past Georgia.
‘Wow. That’s great. You’ll love having him here.’
‘Well … he’s been having a few problems so I don’t know if I’m the best person to sort him out.’
‘You’re his dad. He worships you.’
‘What?’ he stared at her, totally astonished.
‘For God’s sake, of course he does. He’s really proud of you, anyone can see that.’
‘I didn’t know …’
‘Of course not. What kid tells their parents anything good about them? I never did. He told me he wants to be a reporter just like you.’
‘No way will he be doing that!’ Arlo shot back sharply.
Charlotte stopped exploring the office and ran across to Georgia for protection, burying her face in her mother’s lap.
‘Why not?’ Georgia frowned and stroked Charlotte’s hair. ‘Don’t say that to him or you’ll bugger things up before you get started. He’s only a kid, he’ll change his mind ten times probably before he decides what he wants to do. What’s wrong with being a journalist anyway?’
‘Nothing, nothing. It’s just that … what I did was … dangerous.’
‘There are lots of different ways to be a journalist, Arlo.’
‘You’re right. One of them’s talking to Laurie and Dot. I’ll see you later.’
The general store was a couple of blocks walk in the briskly chilled morning air. The sky was a washed out blue but not a cloud marred the expanse. He loved winter mornings like this. No frost because of the light breeze overnight but no doubt the icy blankets would return when the temperature plummeted after the relative warmth brought by the days of rain.
He strode along cheerfully, exchanging the odd greeting with people and waving to friends driving by. Everyone knew everyone in Taylor’s Bend, if not well, at least by name. Made for a close-knit community which was good in some ways but dangerously claustrophobic in others. Especially if they closed ranks to protect someone. Would they do that if one of their own was the perpetrator? In Glenda’s case the community decision had been made as to who the culprit was. But was it right? Mia and Linda vehemently said no.
Banjo wasn’t lying across the doorway in his usual sprawl of furry black limbs and tail. He should get Georgia to do a little piece on the dog. He was an institution in town as well as being a hazard to customers. Arlo pushed open the door. Banjo was just inside lying in a patch of sun coming through the window.
‘Morning, Arlo.’ Laurie never changed. Always smiling and ready to talk. ‘Too cold for Banjo out there today.’
‘He’s a smart dog.’
‘It’s his arthritis. He’s about ninety— a bit older than I am if you work it out. What can I do for you this morning?’
‘Chocolate biscuits.’ Arlo knew better than to come in and ask questions without buying something. ‘Georgia has Charlotte with her. The sitter is ill.’
‘Beth. Yes, she has that nasty bug that’s been going around. She won’t be over that for a week or more.’
Someone would have been in and told him five minutes after Georgia knew. How that happened was a mystery.
Arlo picked out two different packets of biscuits and took them to the counter.
‘I hear Mia Petros is at the house,’ Laurie said as he rang up the sale. ‘Packing up.’
‘Yes. Sad business.’
‘They were a real nice couple. Never thought Tony had it in him to do what he did.’ Laurie leant his hip on the counter, arms folded. ‘He bought her chocolates and flowers.’
‘When?’
‘Any time. Glenda told me. Said he’d come home with little surprises for her. No special reason. Said she’d never been treated so well in her life. A real romantic he was.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Yeah, that’s why Dot and I were knocked for six when we heard.’
‘It was a shock to all of us. I hear Glenda’s ex is around a lot these days. I wouldn’t have thought her parents would be too happy to see him.’
Laurie nodded. ‘He’s an odd bird, that Barry. Didn’t last, his second marriage. Only went two years. He regretted what he’d done, that’s for sure, but of course Glenda wasn’t about to welcome him back. It wasn’t his first affair, not by a long shot.’
‘I don’t know him at all, he’s before my time.’
‘He’s a property developer now. Greenhill Constructions. He was a builder at first but went into business with some other blokes from Wagga, brothers, I think, and they decided to go into development. Those projects out Bindubi and Willoughby way are theirs.’
‘Doing well?’ He knew the sites. There was a sign in a paddock on the road to Bindubi and another one past Willoughby. The places Henk mentioned. No action as yet. Both areas were still paddocks.
‘Seems to be. That’s why he’s around town more. He’s in the area. And Glenda’s death hit Paul and Lorraine hard. He was family for seventeen years. It’s a bond.’
‘Yes, it is. Why do you say he’s an odd bird?’
Laurie’s reply was slower in coming than usual. ‘He’s friendly, good talker, one of those blokes who’s always buying a round, has lots of stories. You know the type?’
‘But?’
‘Dot always said there was something about him …’
‘Too nice? Smarmy?’
‘Hannah said the same thing,’ Arlo said.
‘Funny how the women can see a man as smarmy who the men see as a good bloke. He had his share of women though so they didn’t all feel the same.’
‘A mystery for the ages.’
Laurie chuckled. ‘Dot and I’ve been married for more than sixty years and she’s still a mystery. Nice piece on Les and Sal today by the way.’
The new issue was stacked on the display stand.
‘Thanks. Would it be all right if I send Georgia in to do a little piece on Banjo? He’s as well-known as anyone else in town.’
‘He’d be honoured.’
‘Thanks, Laurie. Say hello to Dot. Is she well?’
‘Will do. She’s fine. She’s out the back cooking the books.’
Arlo left him cackling and headed back to the office to jot down a few notes on Barry and do some online research into his development firm.
Back at his desk he pulled up the layout for the next edition and blocked out space for Banjo and The Grange’s new horse on page 3. With any luck Georgia would come back with some other snippets they could add. The mayor always had something to say. It was early days yet though and something was bound to turn up in the next two weeks.
Satisfied for the moment, Arlo picked up the phone and dialled the shire council office to arrange an interview with someone from the road maintenance section. Face to face, preferably. Twenty minutes later he replaced the receiver with a curse and the words, ‘we’ll be in touch within a few days’ echoing in his ear.
‘Not bloody good enough,’ he muttered. He’d go over there himself this afternoon and demand an interview with someone further up the food chain. A call to the local member of parliament wouldn’t hurt either. Marianne Folds never passed up a photo op. He didn’t expect to get the brush-off from her office and he didn’t, quite the opposite. ‘Yes, Marianne is always interested in the concerns of her constituents. She can be at the site for ten minutes on Friday at two pm.’
‘Perfect. I’ll meet her there with my photographer. Thank you very much.’
How would the council like them apples? He’d earned himself lunch.
Arlo strolled past Hannah’s café, the hairdresser next door, the op shop, the pharmacy and went into the bakery. A woman was waiting at the counter while Tuan served Beryl from the library. She seemed to be stocking up for afternoon tea as well as lunch for the staff which comprised her and her two underlings. Tuan was carefully packing rolls, lamingtons and a fruit tart into boxes.
Arlo made his selection while he waited. The woman in front glanced round at him. Glenda’s mother.
‘Hello, Lorraine,’ he said.
‘Arlo, good morning. Or is it afternoon?’ She smiled. ‘Lovely story on Les and Sal.’
‘Thanks.’
‘We enjoy the local interest pieces. Especially Hannah’s history.’
‘Hannah’s terrific, isn’t she? There’ll be another one in the next issue about our local bushranger.’
‘Ooh really? I never knew we had one.’
‘Neither did I. He wasn’t very successful, apparently. Got caught hopping through a fence trying to escape from the police.’
Lorraine smiled and moved aside for Beryl to depart, laden with her purchases.
‘Sorry, can’t stop to chat,’ Beryl said. ‘See you both later.’
Lorraine said softly as the door closed, ‘That’s a first.’ She turned to Tuan. ‘A brown sliced loaf, please.’
Arlo grinned. Beryl would be a good source of information but nothing he asked would be in confidence the moment the words left his mouth and half of what she told him would be gossip. Laurie was similar but he wasn’t malicious. Beryl had that tendency on occasion and he had no doubt this investigation would be one such.
When he stepped outside he was surprised to find Lorraine waiting on the footpath. ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ she said. ‘Are you going home now?’
‘Yes. We can walk together. What’s it about?’
‘Mia Petros.’