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Ryan and Martin listened as she went over Ronnie’s outburst from the night before and filled them in on Lisa’s unofficial statement.
‘You’re saying Ronnie babysat Abby the night Jessica died? That fits with Brad Summerset being Fairweather’s alibi. He said they caught up for drinks.’
‘It’s what Lisa said last night.’
‘We need to get an official statement from Lisa. I’ll send a constable to the pub.’
Martin crossed the door ready to give the order.
‘Send Reynolds.’
‘Reynolds? She’s on the counter.’
‘She’s always on the counter.’
Martin’s face scrunched as he considered Dawn’s comment.
‘Apparently your senior likes to keep her there. You haven’t noticed?’
‘I hadn’t, but you’re right. Okay. I’ll let her do it. Probably best to send a female, anyway, considering the situation.’
Dawn wanted to protest that it wasn’t a girl thing, but decided now wasn’t the time.
Gently. Gently.
Martin was never a chauvinist. He’d encouraged her to join the police force twenty years ago. This wasn’t the sergeant’s doing. Old habits were hard to break, and change took time. It happened faster in the city, but things were getting there in the bush.
‘We’ll interview Summerset, then I think we need to get some CCTV footage from the school. See where Jessica went after she left on Friday.’
Ryan opened the door ready to leave.
‘You coming?’
‘Of course.’
Dawn strolled through the open door.
‘Do you have Summerset’s address?’
‘I do, but like I said last night, it’s the biggest house on the highest hill so we can’t miss it.’
As she stepped out, she spotted Michael leaning against the desk closest to Sergeant Martin’s office door.
He rose. Ryan waved him back down with an open palm.
‘Sorry, junior. We have official police business to attend to.’
Michael hovered, backside a few inches from the table. His gaze fell on Dawn.
She tried to smooth things over. ‘Can you check on Lisa and Abby for me?’
‘Sure. Anything else you need done?’
‘Would you be able to ask the other rangers about Jessica? Casually. Did she have a boyfriend? Had they noticed anything strange with her behaviour lately? Maybe they know something about her home life we should be aware of.
‘Questioning friends, associates, is something we should be doing.’ The senior constable’s voice was sharp. As Dawn turned, she noticed him staring at Sergeant Martin to back him up.
‘He’s the best person for the job. Michael is far more likely than us to get anything out of the rangers.’
Dawn focussed on the sergeant.
The senior constable jumped to his feet, nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge. ‘We have Indigenous officers based in Hopevale who can do it.’
Dawn frowned and met Sergeant Martin’s gaze.
A silent question passed between them.
Why was this such a big deal?
Dawn was ready to make an argument about it, but Martin interceded.
‘Let it go, Rick. Michael knew Jessica well. He works with the kids all the time. They’ll open up to him rather than a police officer, even one of their own mob.’
Dawn tapped her foot, waiting for the senior constable to agree. She shouldn’t have cared. The sergeant had already told him to back off, but she wondered why Ryan stood by the hallway, saying nothing. He was lead detective. Maybe because it involved Michael?
‘You good Michael?’
Dawn studied his dark brown eyes and waited for him to nod.
‘Maybe I’ll see you at the pub for lunch?’ he called after her, as she hurried to join Ryan already striding out. The senior constable glared at her when she passed his desk. The hairs on her arms stood to attention as a wave of unease flowed over her.
She was still trying to shake the feeling when they pulled up outside the Summerset home.
Lisa was right. It was a mansion, and the view was breathtaking.
Ryan whistled.
‘Maybe I should have been an accountant.’
They slammed the car doors in unison. The sound travelled. A curtain flickered in the front window.
‘They probably think you’re a Jehovah’s Witness or something, in that suit.’
‘I’m not on a cycle.’
‘That’s Mormons.’
Dawn waved her hand at the now sunny sky.
‘How on earth do you wear a suit in this climate anyway?’
The rain-soaked vegetation and soil visibly released steam. The humidity was as close to one hundred per cent as Dawn ever remembered it being.
‘It’s only September. Wait until December.’
Ryan knocked on the front door.
It opened a crack on the security chain almost instantly.
An uneasy sensation ran along Dawn’s spine.
Who used a security lock in Cooktown?
Ryan glanced her way. He was thinking the same thing.
‘Ronnie. Can we come in? Detective Ryan has a few questions for Brad.’
The door closed, the lock rattled, then the door swung open.
‘Mrs Summerset, sorry to bother you. Is your husband home?’
Ryan stepped forward as Ronnie stepped back.
The foyer was larger than Dawn’s apartment back in Adelaide. A planter lined the right-hand side, full of tropical indoor greenery. Two, full-width steps led up into the open-plan lounge area. To the left was a closed door.
Ronnie nodded towards the ornately carved teak door, twice as wide as a regular one. Dawn glanced up at the swirls and filigree inset above, topped with a panel of frosted glass. Light filtered from the skylights in the foyer ceiling, no doubt adding even more light to the office within.
Ryan tapped on the door. The knock echoed through the tiled foyer.
‘I told you not to disturb me, Veronica.’
‘Mr Summerset. It’s Detective Ryan with Cairns Major Crimes. I’d like to ask you a few questions. Can you please open the door?’
Ryan stepped back and waited.
Dawn could hear drawers opening and closing. A filing cabinet clunked shut seconds before the lock on the door clicked.
‘Detective. What can I do for you?’
Brad’s smile vanished as his eyes fell on Dawn.
‘What’s she doing here?’
‘Detective Grave is assisting us with this investigation.’
‘She’s a cop?’
‘Detective.’ Dawn corrected him.
He hesitated, then stepped back and opened the office door. Dawn glanced back at Ronnie. It was bright in the foyer, with the skylights and wide entrance windows, but still, the woman was wearing sunglasses indoors.
Dawn hesitated joining Ryan a moment, but followed inside. The door clicked shut behind them.
‘Last Friday night, where were you, Mr Summerset?’
‘Straight to business. Don’t you want to take a seat?’
Brad indicated two tan leather and black metal chairs opposite a beige leather sofa, a glass-topped coffee table between them.
‘We won’t keep you long. If you can confirm where you were last Friday night.’
‘What’s this about?’
‘We are just following up on something mentioned to us during a police interview.’
‘What things?’
Brad’s eyebrows furrowed.
‘Just tell him where you were Brad, and we’ll be out of your hair.’
Brad sucked in a breath as his shoulders rose and his mouth opened.
‘How on earth does the sister of a killer become a cop anyway?’
‘Detective.’
Dawn struggled to stay calm.
‘Mr Summerset,’ Ryan’s chest rose, his shoulders pulled back, ‘you can answer our questions here, in the comfort of your very swanky office, or you can come down the station, but the only past tense I’d like you to focus on right now is last Friday night!’
Brad’s eyes blazed. Did he honestly think Fraser killed Tracey? And why mention it now, when there was a fresh body found at the same location? It didn’t make any sense.
‘I had a few drinks, played a round of billiards with a mate.’
‘Here?’
‘Yes, here.’
‘Which mate?’
‘David Fairweather.’
Dawn listened as Ryan continued with another question, but something was niggling in the back of her brain, and she couldn’t quite figure it out.
‘How long have you and Mr Fairweather been friends?’ she interrupted Ryan.
‘Decades.’
‘Decades? What is the age difference between you and David. Ten years?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never asked.’
‘When you were eighteen, he was twenty-eight, or thereabouts. What does an eighteen-year-old have to do with a twenty-eight-year-old?’
The sound of someone clearing their throat made Dawn spin around. She hadn’t even heard the office door open. Larry danced into the office, a broad smile across his face, eyes sparkling. ‘I’m sorry Detectives, but Brad won’t be answering any more questions without a lawyer present.’
Dawn caught a glimpse of Ronnie peering in from the hallway, a toddler in her arms and a boy around Abby’s age holding her hand.
‘I hope you understand. I’m only looking out for my son’s best interests.’
Dawn glanced at Larry, then back to the hallway to find it empty.
‘Of course.’ Ryan answered Larry, who spotted her frowning at the empty foyer and turned to see what she was looking at.
‘Sorry Dawn. I’m only doing the dad thing.’
Dawn returned her focus to Larry, who was still smiling. She’d known the man since she was a child, but what did she really know about Larry Summerset?
She forced a smile and hoped it came over sincere.
‘No problem Larry. If we have any further questions, we’ll be sure to contact Trevor.’
Larry led the way from the office. Dawn risked a quick look over her shoulder as she left the room.
Brad sat behind his desk, head in hands, shoulders sagging.