| |
The Top Pub was quiet. Most of the town was out mopping up after the storm, which as Dawn suspected was downgraded to a tropical low by the time it hit Cooktown. She suppressed a twinge of guilt. As much as she wanted to help clean up, finding Lisa and Abby was her only priority right now.
‘Dawn. My golly gosh! Ben said you were in town, and I told him he must have been seeing things.’
The short woman, with thick jet-black hair and smiling oriental eyes scurried out from behind the bar, arms outstretched. The publican’s features were a complete contrast to her accent.
Mari was born and bred in Cooktown, a descendent of the early Chinese settlers who came to run businesses during the gold-mining years.
‘Mari, you haven’t changed a bit.’
The woman grabbed Dawn into a bear hug, holding her so tight she thought she was in a prize-wrestling match.
‘You can still charm the balls off a brass monkey, luv. I’m greyer, flabbier and I think I’ve shrunk an inch, but I’ll take a compliment when I can get one.’
She turned back to her husband at the bar. ‘They don’t come often enough these days.’
The barman shrugged, but the grin on his face said he knew his wife was baiting him.
‘Who’s the man then?’
Dawn almost forgot Detective Ryan was behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed his smirk and scowled.
‘This is Detective Ryan, from Cairns.’
‘Oh. My mistake. I thought ....’
Mari looped her arm through Dawn’s and guided her to a table, leaning in close so no one else could overhear.
‘I hear you became a cop and all. And now poor Lisa. Any luck tracking her down?’
‘We have a few lines of inquiry.’
Dawn slid into the booth seat offered.
‘That’s very official.’
Back in the day, Mari was the gossip queen of Cooktown. Publicans hear everything going on in town, and it was Mari who did her fair share of scaremongering when Tracey Warren’s body was discovered.
Mari waited for further explanation, but realised none was coming. Pursing her lips, as though words were trying to escape, she remained silent. Finally, she gave a curt nod of understanding.
‘What can I get you? Bit early for beer or wine. How about a coffee?’
‘Cappuccino is good for me, thanks Mari. Ryan?’
‘Same for me, thanks.’
‘I’ll grab you a menu. You’re as scrawny as a day-old calf.’
The publican scurried away.
‘Do you know everyone in town?’
Dawn sighed at the detective’s question.
‘I did. But I’m sure I don’t anymore. The town hasn’t changed much. There’s the new hotel up the road. A few more fancy houses along the top of the cliff, overlooking the water. Most of the locals are still here. But there are lots of new faces too.’
Ryan rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt. Sweat pooled under his arms.
‘It’s too sticky up here for long sleeves.’
‘A legacy of my schoolboy days.’
‘Private then?’
He nodded, opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as Mari slid two cups onto the wooden table, along with two single sheets of laminated paper.
‘I don’t think we’ll be too busy today, so take your time. Luckily the power is back on, so we have a full menu on offer.’
‘Thanks Mari.’
The publican stepped away, then stopped. Turning back, she placed her hand on the tabletop and waited for Dawn to make eye contact again.
‘Luv. You had a shit go of things back then. I hope the town can redeem itself now. Your sister has stuck it out. Made new friends. Won a few old ones over. We aren’t bad people. Everyone was scared. You understand?’
Mari waited. Dawn studied her a moment, then broke eye contact. What could she say? Sure, all is forgiven. You all watched my dad implode and did nothing, then either drove my brother to suicide or made him a scapegoat and let the real killer go free?
‘I’m here if you want to chat luv. That’s all.’
Dawn nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. How on earth had Lisa put up with it?
She already knew the answer to that. Meditation, new-age thinking, Buddhism, too much weed. You name it, Lisa adopted it.
Mari shuffled away, head down.
‘Sounds like a tough childhood.’
Dawn lifted her shoulders and sighed.
‘A lot of it was good. We had freedom here. It was safe, or so we all thought.’
‘David Fairweather.’
‘David Fairweather.’
Dawn sipped her coffee while she tried to formulate exactly where to start.
As though reading her thoughts, Ryan gave her direction.
‘Tell me how you met him. Then what happened to make you dislike him so much.’
‘My mum and dad were fixated on swimming.’
‘Wondered about that. Your names—Dawn and Fraser. Australian swimming legend right there.’
‘Yep. And Lisa, named after Lisa Curry.’
‘Your dad a qualified coach?’
‘He was, until his protégée, Fairweather, won a few national events and then everyone wanted him to coach their kids.’
‘But it was your dad who coached Fairweather?’
‘What can I say. We love our sporting heroes.’
‘So, what went wrong? Where does Tracey Warren fit in?’
‘I was too young to see it. I should have said something.’
Ryan waited as tension rose. Dawn scanned the menu but couldn’t focus. She did say something to her dad, and he’d told her to keep her mouth shut and not rock the boat.
‘Fairweather was a creep. He’s the reason I quit swimming.’
‘Sergeant Martin said you were bound for greatness.’
‘Everyone hoped I was, but it wasn’t likely. I never had the killer instinct needed to reach the heady heights. I loved swimming. I enjoyed the community. Friendly competition was fun. I didn’t even mind the early morning training, every day.’
‘What happened?’
‘Fairweather had me at a private early morning session.’
‘Your dad wasn’t there?’
‘No. Fairweather said he was too emotional. Always pushing, always yelling, putting me off my game.’
‘Was he?’
Dawn thought about it a moment. Her dad certainly got annoyed if she wasn’t standing on the veranda ready when it was time to get to practice.
‘He competed when he was younger. Then an injury retired him. It was back before shoulder surgeons could do what they can do now. I think he was living vicariously through me.’
‘So, what happened?’
Dawn had only mentioned the incident to her dad once. Then to her sister and brother when they found Tracey’s body. But she’d glossed over and downplayed the details at the time. Since then, she’d never told anyone about the day she quit swimming.
She glanced up into Ryan’s grey-blue eyes. Once again, she was distracted by his broad shoulders and athletic build. Like Fairweather, he was confident, assured. He was the type of guy Dawn had a habit of jumping into bed with, only to leave in the dim morning light before they could ask anything more of her.
Pulling back her shoulders, she focussed on the task at hand. Spilling her guts to Ryan wasn’t ideal—she rarely let her guard down—but this was a police matter. This wasn’t personal. She wasn’t unburdening herself in his arms. That was something she’d never do.
Take a breath and toughen up Princess!
‘Training was done. I was in the girls’ locker room, changing out of my wet swimmers. I wrapped the towel around me after drying off, then I felt his eyes on me.’
Dawn reached for her coffee and gulped down a mouthful. Her empty stomach gurgled in protest as her hand began to shake. She assured herself it was the caffeine overload.
‘The sun was barely up yet, so the visibility wasn’t brilliant, but I could tell it was him. He gawked for a minute. I grabbed my bag and clutched it to my chest, over my towel, and headed for the cubicle. He stepped into my path. He was close enough I could smell the cigarettes on his breath.’
Ryan didn’t take notes. He waited, patiently, appearing to be removed emotionally, but the twitch of his jaw told her he was seething on the inside.
‘I was fifteen at the time. I stepped out to go past him, he intercepted me again.’
Dawn took another sip, then licked her lips. She wasn’t going to give him too much detail. Not here. Not now.
‘He touched me. I shrugged him off. I don’t know why, but he stepped aside and let me pass to the cubicle. I didn’t understand it back then, but I do now.’
‘You were his first.’
‘Yes. I was his first attempt. I think he realised he’d picked the wrong personality. Not sure if it was the look in my eyes. My body language. When I think about it, probably both. Tracey was different. She was eager to please. Desperate to win.’
‘You think he groomed her?’
‘I am certain of it.’
‘You tell anyone?’
‘My dad.’
‘And he didn’t believe you?’
‘Oh, he believed me. He told me to keep my mouth shut or he’d lose his spot as assistant coach.’
Ryan was silent a moment. Dawn gazed at her hands, heart pounding, chest aching.
‘I can see why you didn’t go to his funeral.’
Dawn’s eyes flicked up, Focussing hard on the detective.
‘I do my homework. Did anyone else know? Martin? Did you make a formal complaint when you got older?’
‘No. I left here when I was seventeen, after my brother’s funeral, and swore I’d never return.’
‘Yet here you are. Did your sister know?’
‘Yes, and my brother. I told them when Tracey was murdered. Although, I think Fraser already knew about Fairweather.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘He was dating Tracey. It made him the prime suspect.’
‘And you think Fairweather had something to do with Tracey’s murder.’
‘Yes, and I think he forced my brother to write the suicide note.’
‘That’s a huge leap Dawn.’
Dawn lifted an eyebrow at the use of her first name.
‘Sorry. Detective.’
‘Except now my sister is missing and his number is in her call log.’
‘But there’s nothing to connect him to your brother’s suicide or Tracey. Why would he be stupid enough to have links to your sister if he planned to do anything sinister to her?’
‘I don’t think he did. Plan to that is. Maybe Lisa found a link. She told me as much in her text.’
‘What did she say, exactly?’
‘Here. I’ll show you.’
Dawn reached into her shoulder bag for her phone, being careful not to reveal her weapon.
Why hadn’t she kept her bag on her last night when she headed downstairs for cover against the cyclone? Then maybe she’d have been able to shoot Fairweather instead of running from him.
‘Here.’
She opened the call record for her sister as a stab of guilt made her stomach ache. There were so many unanswered calls and messages.
Passing it to Ryan she avoided eye contact a moment. He was going to think she was a bitch for not returning the calls, but he didn’t know Lisa. He didn’t have to listen to her hypotheses and warped ideas for all these years.
She always claimed karma was going to get whoever killed Fraser, but she was going to give it a hand.
‘This is pretty cryptic.’
‘Yes, but it says she has proof.’
‘It doesn’t exactly say proof.’
Dawn reached for the phone and read the message again. Ryan was right.
I think I’ve found what we need. What we’ve been looking for all these years.
‘Found what we need could be about anyone. Anything.’
‘But it has to be him. He came to the house yesterday.’
Ryan’s body stiffened. ‘When?’
‘Before you came by. I took off into the bush when he was there. He didn’t follow. You said you came around three.’
‘I didn’t pass anyone on the driveway.’
‘Well, we can ask him when we bring him in for questioning then.’
‘There’s no we here Detective. You’re on the bench. I agreed to include you in the investigation, from behind the scenes, because of your local knowledge, but you will be watching the interview from afar. There is no way you are getting into that interview room.’