Arson at the Art Gallery

Grace York

Copyright © 2018 by Grace York

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organisations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

For more information about the author, including other books in the series, please go to graceyorkauthor.com

Cover design by James, GoOnWrite.com

Edited by Phoenix Editing, phoenixeditingandproofreading.com

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Note from the Author

1

"It's this street here," Addison said, pointing wildly just as her daughter drove them past it.

"Can you tell me a little quicker next time?" said Olivia, pulling over to turn the fully-laden car around. "This one?"

"Yes." Addison checked the map on her phone again to be sure. It had been three months since she'd been here and bought the place, and she'd never been very good at directions anyway.

Olivia turned into Seaview Drive, and the beach house came quickly into view. "That's it!" Addison cried. She looked over to her daughter, who'd slowed the car and was craning her neck to see the building out of the front windscreen. "What do you think?"

"It looks old." Olivia parked the car in the driveway and they both got out.

"It is old. It was built in the nineteen-twenties. But it's beautiful, isn't it?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "I think we might have different perceptions of beauty, Mum."

Addison stood back to admire the house as Olivia started grabbing bags from the back of the Rav 4. It was rundown, sure, but the house was beautiful to her. And now it was home. "You've got the keys, I presume?" asked Olivia. She'd climbed onto the verandah and was waiting, arms laden with bags. Addison was struck again by how quickly her daughter was growing into a woman. Olivia was taller than her now, and her long dark hair was just like Addison's had been before she'd cut it short a few years ago.

"What's your rush?"

"We've been driving for two days, Mum. I stink. I need a shower. And food."

Addison smiled. Ever practical, was her daughter. Eighteen going on thirty, her father used to say. No he didn't. He said sixteen going on thirty. That's how old she was when he'd died.

Rob would have loved this place.

Addison shook thoughts of her late husband from her mind and unlocked the front door. It opened into a huge, empty, great room with a fireplace on one wall and windows everywhere. She could see the use for the windows, the fireplace not so much. They were in Queensland. It wasn't supposed to get cold enough for a fire up here.

There was ample space on one side of the great room for a large lounge area, and a dining space on the other. In the corner was a staircase leading to the first and second floors. As Addison recalled, there was a second staircase at the back of the house from the kitchen.

Olivia dumped the bags in the middle of the room and went off exploring. Addison had already been through the house twice last time she was here, and figured she had time for exploring later. She went back outside and stood on the verandah. It ran the entire length of the front of the house, and circled down the northern side and around the back as well. There was another one above her, attached to the first-floor bedrooms, while the bedrooms on the second floor had windows that all overlooked the view Addison smiled at now. The view that had made her buy this house on a whim three months ago.

Their new home was directly opposite one of the most beautiful sandy beaches Addison had ever seen. Her childhood memories of this beach were of its golden sand and sparkling blue water. She'd thought she'd romanticised it all these years – built it up in her head as something more beautiful than it actually was. But she hadn't. It was stunning.

"I can see why you like this place," said Olivia, putting her arm around Addison and leaning on the verandah railing. She tilted her head towards the water. "You going to go in?"

Addison turned to see Olivia in a swimsuit. She'd obviously chosen to rid herself of the travel stink in the ocean, rather than the shower.

"I'm more of a 'walk on the beach' type of person. You go ahead. Be careful out there." Her daughter had officially been an adult for three months now, but Addison would always worry. And even though the water looked calm, the ocean was not something you took for granted.

"I will." Olivia headed for the beach, then turned back to wave. "Go check out the backyard," she said, grinning. "There's a mango tree."

Addison smiled and watched her only daughter cross the road and walk down the track to the beach. Olivia turned back and yelled something Addison didn't quite catch.

"What?"

"They've got flags!"

"Great!" Addison gave her a thumbs up, and breathed a sigh of relief. The beach was patrolled. Of course it was, she realised. Getaway Bay was a tourist town, after all. People travelled miles for that beach. It's why she'd bought the beach house. She wanted to turn it into a bed and breakfast.

Addison pottered around for a while, checking all the nooks and crannies of the house as she waited for the removalist truck to show up. Yes, the house needed a lot of work, but most of it was cosmetic. She'd hired a local handyman to come and give her a quote on fixing anything too complicated to handle herself. Like the hot water system, for example. Holding her hand under the hot tap in the kitchen, Addison realised why Olivia had chosen the ocean over a shower.

"You're here!"

Addison turned in the direction of the voice to find her cousin, Layla, standing in the doorway with an enormous bunch of flowers in one hand, and a tray of coffee in the other. A paper bag dangled from the coffee hand.

A wide grin spread instantly across Addison's face as she rushed over to greet her favourite cousin. Layla was as colourful as ever, a bright floral dress setting off her long red hair. She was short in stature, but she made up for it and then some with her warm nature.

"Yes, we made it," said Addison. "Finally. Last time I drove that far I was a kid in the back seat, begging my parents to play Eye Spy."

"It's definitely quicker to fly." Layla handed the flowers over, and Addison searched the room for somewhere to put them, settling on the wide mantlepiece.

"Thanks for these. We'll have to wait for my stuff to arrive before we can get them into a vase. How are you?"

"Excited to have you here. Where's Olivia? I'm dying to meet her."

"She's freshening up out there," said Addison, pointing to the waves. "She shouldn't be too much longer. Let's sit outside and wait for her. What have you got there?"

"Coffee and scones from Hazel's. Best coffee in Getaway Bay. Hazel threw in three of her scones when she heard I was coming out to welcome you."

"That's lovely of her." Addison led the way back out onto the verandah, and they both lowered themselves to the steps. It was the only available seating until the truck arrived.

"You haven't tasted Hazel's scones."

"Oh. Good or bad?"

Layla screwed up her nose. "She lost her baker a month ago, and hasn't been able to get another one. She's struggling. Lucky she makes good coffee. Anyway, that's a long story for another time. I'm so excited you're here. It's been forever."

"I was here three months ago."

"Well, yes, but that was a flying visit. I still can't believe you saw this place and bought it the next day." Layla turned and surveyed the rundown building. "Are you sure you want to tackle something like this?"

"You sound like Olivia. I'm fifty-five, not seventy-five. There's plenty of life in me yet."

"Fair enough. I'm just glad to have you nearby again after all these years."

The cousins reminisced on the steps until Olivia came striding up the path and across the road at the exact same time the truck arrived.

"Finally, we'll get something to sit on." Addison quickly introduced Olivia and Layla, before going out to greet the truck driver, Jacko. They'd met in Sydney two days ago when he'd arrived with his two sons to load the truck. Jacko was one of the biggest guys Addison had ever seen, and covered in tattoos. He would've looked more at home as a nightclub bouncer, but he'd turned out to be one of the sweetest guys Addison had met. His sons were almost as big as their father, and just as lovely.

"You made it," Addison said as Jacko and the boys climbed out of the truck. "Good trip?"

"Always. I love the open road." Jacko shook her hand and looked up into the sky. "Few hours of daylight left yet. We'd better get cracking."

"You don't want to take a little break first?" Addison asked, before realising she had nothing to offer them.

"Nah. Been sitting in the cab all day. Need to get the circulation flowing. Come on, boys."

For the next three hours Jacko and his boys unloaded furniture and boxes while Addison and Olivia told them where to put it. Layla busied herself unpacking boxes in the kitchen, which was a great help. By the time the truck was empty and Jacko and the boys were on their way back to Sydney, Addison was ready for a cup of tea.

"Did you find the kettle?" she asked Layla, sinking into one of the chairs of her dining table, which fit perfectly in the beach house's large eat-in kitchen.

"I sure did. Cups and tea bags, too."

"You're a gem."

Layla smiled and put the kettle on. "So Olivia, what do you think of Getaway Bay?"

Olivia shrugged; she was still in her swimming costume, but had added a pair of cut-off denim shorts and a yellow tank top. Her long dark hair had made a wet patch down her back. "The beach is great. Less crowded than Bondi, too. And less posers."

"What about the house?" asked Addison.

"It's okay, I suppose. Can we get some food? I'm starving."

Addison figured 'okay I suppose' was the best she was going to get. Layla put a cup of tea in front of her, and Addison gripped it with both hands. "Is there somewhere in town we can go for dinner?" she asked Layla, then looked down at the state of her clothes. "Or maybe takeaway?"

"I was going to make you something and bring it over to heat up, but I ran out of time," said Layla, fishing in her handbag. "So I brought this." She handed over a pizza menu. "They deliver. Sorry, it was the best I could do."

"You've done plenty," said Addison, wrapping her cousin a hug. "Thanks for coming today. Oh, I almost forgot to ask – how is your dad?"

Layla's face dropped. "Not great, I'm afraid. But I'll tell you all about that tomorrow. I've got to run, Jenna's been home alone all afternoon. I hate to think what she's been up to."

"Jenna's here?" Addison held Layla at arm's length. "Why didn't you say?"

Layla laughed. "Didn't want to scare you off before you'd unpacked. See ya!"

"Who's Jenna?" asked Olivia, one eye on the pizza menu.

"Layla's younger sister. My other cousin."

"Oh. Why didn't she come over too?"

Addison tried to think of a way to explain Jenna, but she was too tired and hungry. "I don't think unpacking boxes is quite Jenna's style." She fished her mobile phone out of her back pocket. "Come on, it's getting late. Let's order."

2

Addison woke at six to sunlight streaming through the window. She'd forgotten how early the sun rose in Queensland. Curtains made their way to the top of her mental to-do list.

She lay in bed for a few minutes, stretching and enjoying the sun. She felt relaxed already. It was late January, so it was already hot at this time of the morning. But the good part about the weather up here was that it was consistent. Unlike Sydney, known for its wild weather fluctuations, here it was just hot all the time.

Addison's relaxation didn't last long.

A loud scream came from Olivia's bedroom. Addison jumped out of bed and raced down the hall, knowing anything that even had her daughter awake at this hour was cause for alarm.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Addison burst into Olivia's room to find her crouched on tiptoes in her bed, pressing herself as far into the wall as possible.

"What the heck is that?" Olivia yelled as she pointed across the room.

Addison followed her finger to the gecko glued to the opposite wall. She let out the breath she'd been holding and laughed. "It's just a gecko. Relax. He won't hurt you."

"Does he have to be in my room? While I'm trying to sleep? Nature is supposed to stay on the outside of the house."

Addison shrugged. "It's Queensland, honey. They have a lot of things with more legs than us here. You should be happy. He'll eat most of the other bugs."

Olivia climbed down from her bed, her expression now the more familiar one of teenage grumpiness.

Addison tried to distract her. "Come on. Let's go see if that mango tree has any ripe fruit we can eat for breakfast."

They both gave up on any more sleep and dressed quickly. Addison was first to the back door off the kitchen, and when she pulled it open she realised just how big her new mango tree was.

"I see a couple of ripe ones," Olivia said over her shoulder, pointing up into the tree.

Addison squinted. "Oh yeah. How are we going to get up there?"

Olivia sidled past her and went out into the yard. She was wearing the same shorts and tank top from yesterday.

"Don't you have any clean clothes?"

"Haven't unpacked the rest yet. These smell okay." Olivia continued off towards a shed at the bottom of the garden. She opened the shed door tentatively.

"Watch out for spiders," Addison called, then slapped her hat on her head and set off after her daughter.

"I'm used to spiders," Olivia replied. Before Addison reached the shed Olivia reappeared with a ladder. "Here you go."

"I'm not going up on that."

"Really? How do you think you're going to paint the house, Mum? Are you just going to do the bottom half of each wall?" Olivia took the ladder over to the tree and leaned it up against the trunk.

"Oh, very funny. There's a wall to lean the ladder against inside a house, Olivia. Out here there's…"

"The tree trunk?" Olivia tested the stability of the ladder by stepping on the first rung and wobbling.

"That doesn't look very safe, sweetheart. Why don't we forget the mangoes and go into town for breakfast? We need supplies anyway." Addison's heart leapt into her mouth for the second time that morning as Olivia began to climb.

"We can do that too. But what's the point of having a mango tree in your backyard if you can't eat the mangoes? Here, hold the ladder. I'll be fine."

Addison took hold and Olivia scuttled up the ladder and into the tree. She reached over and plucked the two ripest-looking mangoes, and then looked about.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't hold them and climb down at the same time."

"Oh, right." Addison took off her hat and held it out. "Drop them down, I'll catch them." Olivia dropped the mangoes, one at a time, and Addison caught them both in her hat. She put them on the ground and held the ladder while Olivia climbed back down to safety.

"That makes me and nature one-all, I reckon," Olivia said with a grin.

They ate the mangoes on the back verandah, made a glorious mess, and Addison thoroughly enjoyed herself. It was good to see Olivia smile. She'd been through so much, losing her father at sixteen, her older brother moving away not long after, and then going through the stress of her end of year exams while her entire life was being packed up around her. She'd done well in her exams regardless, and was off to study forensic science at Griffith University in a couple of weeks' time. Addison hoped to spend as much time as possible before that watching her daughter smile.

After cleaning themselves up and a quick trip to the local supermarket for supplies, Addison and Olivia set to work making a list of everything that needed to be done around the beach house. It was a long list.

"When is your handyman supposed to get here?" Olivia asked, sticking her pencil behind her ear.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the front of the house. "Hello?" a voice called through the open doorway. "Mrs Lake?"

Addison and Olivia followed the voice and came upon a good-looking young man in a tool belt standing just outside the door. Addison turned to see her daughter blush and quickly take off up the stairs. He must be more than just good-looking.

"Hi," said Addison, holding out a hand for the young man to shake. "You must be Jason. I'm Mrs Lake. You can call me Addison. That flash you just saw was my daughter, Olivia. I'm sure she'll be back down soon enough. Come in, please."

Jason kicked his boots off outside and then crossed the threshold. He was tall, with sandy blond hair, and had muscles befitting a young handyman. There wasn't a tattoo in sight, but otherwise Jason reminded Addison of a young Jacko.

"You said on the phone you weren't quite sure what needed doing?" Jason asked.

"Yeah. We just got here yesterday. I only had a couple of quick looks at the place when I bought it three months ago. There was a building inspection report of course, but it didn't really mean much to me, other than assuring me the place wasn't about to fall down anytime soon."

Jason's eyes roamed over the great room. "I'm sure you don't have to worry about that," he said. "They built them pretty sturdy back in the day. How about I take a good look around at the basics, plumbing and electrical, that sort of thing, and get back to you?"

"That'd be great, thanks. Oh, can you start with the hot water system? We could both use a hot shower as soon as possible."

"No worries." Jason grinned and then got to work, leaving Addison to hunt out her daughter.

"What was that all about?" she asked when she found Olivia in her room, clothes spread all over her bed. "You chose now to unpack?"

"You never told me he was so cute," Olivia said, holding a top up and checking it out in the mirror, before discarding it and trying another.

"I only spoke to him on the phone. Cute doesn't really translate well over the airwaves."

Olivia rolled her eyes and kept searching for the perfect top to impress Jason. Evidently it was nowhere to be found. Addison recognised the signs of a panic attack rising in her daughter.

"Hey, come on. What's really going on?" She took hold of both of Olivia's hands and held tight. Olivia burst into tears, and Addison pulled her in for a hug. "Are you worried about going off to uni?"

Addison felt Olivia nod into her shoulder.

"It's okay to be nervous, sweetheart. This is a massive time in your life. Everything is changing. But some things are staying the same, too. I'll always be here for you."

"There will be so many new people." Olivia broke away from her mother and sat cross-legged on her bed. She lifted the bottom of the tank top and wiped her eyes with it. "And I've never lived away from you."

Addison pulled the desk chair over and sat in front of her. "You've wanted to enough times."

Olivia smiled.

"There it is. That smile is going to win so many hearts, my darling. Griffith University isn't going to know what's hit them. And I'm only three hours away. Much closer than if I'd stayed in Sydney."

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself. "Did you come all this way just so you could be close to me?"

"No. Well, that wasn't the only reason. I needed to get away from Sydney just as much as you did. As did your brother, for that matter."

"Justin went to Melbourne for work."

"I know. But I don't think he would have considered it had we not lost your father. Sydney was a part of who Dad was. Who we all were when he was alive. It's understandable none of us could cope being there without him."

"I miss him, Mum."

"I know you do, sweetheart. I also know he would have been very proud of you. He would have loved having a forensic scientist in the family. He always had a high regard for the crime scene and lab technicians, you know."

Addison took a deep breath. It still hurt to think of Rob. He'd been a homicide detective in Sydney for twenty years before his diagnosis. He often came home and told her how the scientists had helped him to break a case.

"I'm doing this for me as much as for Dad, you know," said Olivia, tears gone now.

"I should think so. It would be silly to devote three years of study, not to mention an entire career, to something you weren't interested in. But Dad would have loved it, just the same. He was very proud of both of you."

Olivia nodded. "Do you think Justin will visit soon?"

"I'm sure he will as soon as he can get time off work." Addison reached for the nearest top and handed it to her daughter. "This one will do. Come on, we can't leave Mr Handyman down there by himself forever."

3

By mid-morning Jason had made a list of his own and gone off to the hardware store to get supplies. The hot water system had rusted right through and needed replacing, so he'd called a plumber to take care of that as well as a couple of minor jobs in two of the upstairs bathrooms.

The house had already been a bed and breakfast in a previous life, and most of the bedrooms had en-suite bathrooms. They also had hideous wallpaper, which was the first thing that had to go.

Addison had never renovated anything before, but she had watched a lot of television shows. They made it look so easy on those shows, surely she could get most of this work done herself. She was in no hurry.

Rob had taken out a life insurance policy as soon as he became a cop. He realised the risk of losing his life in the line of duty, and while he'd been prepared to make that sacrifice, he hadn't been prepared to leave his family in financial strife. The cost of living in Sydney was high, particularly housing, and Addison was grateful he'd made sure from the beginning that their family was covered if the unthinkable happened.

In the end it was cancer that took his life, not a stray bullet or any of the other side-effects of being a homicide detective. Between the life insurance payout and the sale of the family home in Sydney, Addison had had more than enough to cover the cost of the beach house. With what was left over, plus her own superannuation from her days as a high school teacher, and Rob's police pension, at fifty-five Addison never had to work again. Which was why Olivia kept questioning her desire to buy such a big house and run it as a bed and breakfast – she didn't need the money.

What Olivia didn't understand was Addison wasn't doing it for the money. It was company she was after. With Justin off building his own career in Melbourne, and Olivia about to start university, Addison needed to fill the gap. After Rob died she hadn't wanted to see anyone. She'd locked herself away in their house and done the bare minimum to care for herself and the children. It was what she'd needed at the time to cope with the grief.

Now she needed the opposite. She felt an urge to surround herself with people; to laugh again. To live the rest of her life. Rob hadn't wanted her to lock herself away. He'd specifically told her not to. So she'd packed everything up and come to Getaway Bay, the place she'd adored as a child.

They'd come here every January – she and her parents – when she was young. As an only child she'd looked forward to the two weeks a year she'd get to spend playing with her cousins on the beach and in the nearby park. She knew she'd romanticised it in her mind, but she felt so drawn to the place, and when Olivia announced she'd be attending Griffith University in Queensland, Addison knew it was time to return to Getaway Bay.

She'd found the beach house almost immediately, and the idea of a bed and breakfast, and all the company it would entail, was too good to resist. She'd made an offer on the house immediately and, much to her cousin Layla's delight, here they were.

"Mum, are you listening?"

Addison shook herself out of her reflections. "What, honey?"

"Are you going to do something with all of this? Or just daydream?"

'All of this' was the ingredients for scones Addison had laid out on the kitchen bench. Layla had been right about Hazel's scones. They were truly terrible. Addison hadn't baked since before Rob died. She'd decided it was time.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I was lost there for a moment. I'm going to make some scones. That is if I can get this oven to work."

"You're baking again? Sweet! This sea change business might be a good idea after all." Olivia started playing with knobs and buttons on the oven. After a moment she opened the door and stuck her hand in. "There you go. It's preheating now."

"How did you do that?"

Olivia smiled. "I'll write it down for you." She knew her mother well. She changed the subject. "I know we can do a lot of the stuff inside the house ourselves, and I'm happy to help while I'm here, but neither of us really has the first clue about renovating, Mum. Where do we start?"

"Don't worry, I've got it all figured out," said Addison as she started measuring out ingredients for the scones.

"You're going to ask Jason what to do, aren't you?"

"Yep. He's at the hardware store getting everything we need to start stripping the wallpaper and getting it ready to paint. Then he's going to show us how. We'll be fine."

"I don't doubt it," said Olivia, pulling out a stool from under the kitchen bench and taking a seat. "I guess you've watched enough renovation shows in your time."

"Don't you tease me about watching those shows. I know you secretly love them too." Addison remembered many a night on the couch back in Sydney when the two of them would curl up with popcorn and watch back-to-back episodes of their favourite reno shows. No Marvel movies for them.

"Yeah, fair point."

They chatted about colour schemes and furniture shopping while Addison made the scones and popped them in the oven. While they baked, she unpacked the box containing her coffee machine, and fired it up.

"You want one?" she asked Olivia, who was busy checking her phone.

"Yes please."

There was a knock at the door before it opened and Jason called out. "I'm back."

Addison went through to the great room. "Hi Jason. How did you go?"

"Got everything we need. We'll have this place restored to its former glory in no time."

"With a few modern touches, I hope," said Olivia from the kitchen doorway.

Jason tipped his head. "Of course. Whatever you want." He turned back to Addison. "I'm just going to unload the truck. Mind if I use that shed out the back to store some stuff?"

"Not at all. When you're done come in and join us for morning tea. The scones should be just about ready."

"I thought something smelled great. I'll be with you in five minutes."

Jason left and Addison rejoined Olivia in the kitchen, noting her daughter was blushing less after this encounter with the handyman. She didn't say anything.

Soon enough the three of them were seated around the dining table with hot coffee and warm scones.

"Butter is going to have to do I'm afraid," said Addison. "I forgot to get jam and cream when we were at the supermarket. I'm a bit out of practice on the baking side of things."

"Wow," said Jason, taking a bite. "If this is what you produce when you're out of practice, I can't wait until you get your eye in Mrs Lake. These are delicious."

"Please Jason, call me Addison. And thank you."

"You're welcome. Can I have another one?"

"You can have as many as you like if you're going to help us get this place to feel like a home."

4

They worked together most of the day, taking breaks for food and instruction from Jason on what to do next. The plumber came and installed a brand new hot water system, much to Olivia's delight.

At five o'clock Addison's phone rang. It was Layla.

"How's it going? You got that beach house all pretty yet?"

"I think it's going to take more than a day, Layla. What are you up to?"

"I've been with Dad most of the day. I'm exhausted. I never realised how much it takes out of you, sitting with a sick person."

"I know what you mean," said Addison. Her eyes welled up.

"Oh, hun, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me."

"Don't worry about it," said Addison. "Just remember I'm here for you. I know what you're going through."

"Thanks. Hey, I was calling to see if you and Olivia wanted to come by the gallery. You can check it out, say hi to Jenna, and then I thought maybe we could go to the pub in town for dinner. What do you think?"

Addison could think of nothing she'd like better. "Give us ten minutes to change and we'll be right there." She ended the call and found Olivia chatting in the kitchen with Jason. She'd certainly got over her anxiousness over the course of the day.

"Time to test that hot water system out, kid," said Addison.

Olivia frowned at the term of endearment. "What's happening?"

"We're going to pick up Layla and go into town to the pub for dinner." Addison turned to Jason. "You're welcome to join us."

"Thanks, but I've got some stuff to do tonight. I'll see you first thing tomorrow?"

"When you say first thing…"

Jason laughed. "I'll make a start outside if I'm too early for you."

"Thanks." Addison smiled. "We've got a lot done today."

"We have. I'll be off then." He tipped his head, which seemed to be a habit whenever he entered or left a room. Nice country manners. Addison liked him a lot.

"Come on then, let's get cleaned up," she said once he was gone. "I told Layla we'd only be ten minutes."

"I'll be that long just in the shower if we've got hot water," said Olivia, running up the stairs.

"No you won't. You're too conservative with water to do that."

"You know me too well."

They got themselves ready and left to pick up Layla. Addison let Olivia drive. She wouldn't get much chance to drive once she left for campus, and Addison felt a young driver should get as much practice as she could. It also meant she could have a glass of wine or two at the pub without worrying about driving.

Addison directed Olivia to Layla's art gallery. She filled with pride at her cousin's accomplishments as they pulled up outside the building. The cousins had always stayed in contact over the years, but they hadn't seen much of each other. Addison had only met Layla's ex-husband twice, and both times the meeting had been strained. She was glad when Layla had finally left Rick.

Layla had left both her husband and her Brisbane home behind. She'd come back to Getaway Bay because her father was sick, but also to start her life over. She was a brilliant painter, and she finally got to follow her dream and build an art gallery. The finished building included a studio in the back, and a flat upstairs. It was wonderful.

Olivia pulled up outside the gallery. "We going in?" she asked.

"Definitely. You have to see some of Layla's work. She's very talented."

Layla greeted them at the door, and Addison immediately lost herself again in the paintings adorning the walls of the gallery, as she had when she'd come here three months ago. There were a couple of new works up now.

"These are awesome," said Olivia, following her mother around the room. "Did you do them all?" she asked Layla.

"Yes, they're all mine. Come, I'll show you the studio." Layla linked her arm through Olivia's and led her out the back to the studio. Addison had actually slept there on a blow-up mattress last time she was here. It had certainly been an interesting place to lay her head.

Now, she left them to it and went upstairs to Layla's flat. Might as well get it over with.

"Hello, Addison."

Addison followed the sound of the voice. Jenna was sitting out on the small balcony overlooking the water.

"Hello, Jenna. Long time no see." There was no hugging, or even a shaking of hands. Addison nodded; the small gesture seemed the most appropriate.

"Yes, I suppose it has been a while." Jenna didn't get up. She sipped a glass of wine and turned back to watch the waves. "I was sorry to hear about Rob. He was a good man."

"Thank you." Addison gritted her teeth. So good you tried to steal him from me all those years ago. She took a deep breath and let the past slide by. "What brings you back to Getaway Bay?"

"I suppose Layla has told you about our father," Jenna replied.

"She mentioned he's not doing so well. I'm sorry to hear that."

Layla and Jenna's father, Dennis, had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's five years ago. It was what prompted Layla's move back to the Bay. She'd moved back in with him until she built the gallery, and he'd become too sick to stay at home. He was in a nursing home now, and Layla said the home and the staff were excellent. Still, Layla spent a lot of time visiting him. Something Addison felt sure Jenna wouldn't be bothered to do.

"He's going to die," Jenna said matter-of-factly. "I thought it best I be here. For Layla, you know."

And so you can get your hands on his money quicker. Addison kept that thought to herself. "That's nice of you," she said instead.

Jenna shrugged, and Addison was saved from more small talk by the arrival of Layla and Olivia. Olivia went straight over to Jenna on the balcony.

"Hi, I'm Olivia. Mum's told me… well, she says you're her cousin. Nice to meet you." Before Jenna could respond Olivia had pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a hug. Addison and Layla did their best not to burst out laughing. Jenna wasn't a big fan of human contact.

"We're going to the pub for dinner," Olivia continued, oblivious to Jenna's discomfort. "Do you want to join us?"

"Um, no, thank you. They don't have anything on the menu I can eat."

"Are you on a special diet?" Olivia asked.

"Jenna's always on some special diet or other," said Layla. "Come on, honey. You must be starving after all that hard work today." She ushered Olivia and Addison out of the flat and down the stairs, before turning back to Jenna. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

They'd made it to the car before Layla stopped. "Shoot. I forgot my purse. I'll be back in a minute." She turned on her heel and went back into the gallery.

"Jenna seems interesting," said Olivia while they waited.

"Interesting is one word for her," said Addison. As much as she'd always loved Layla, Addison had never been as fond of her younger cousin. When they were very little Jenna had always tagged along, wanting to join in. But as they got older, Jenna grew apart from Addison and Layla. Instead of wanting to join them, she'd spied on them and played tricks on them.

"Did you ever miss having a sister?" Olivia asked.

"Not really," said Addison. "Do you?"

"Sometimes I think it would be nice. But then I look at my friends who have sisters, and they always seem to be fighting with them."

"You fought with your brother enough when he lived at home."

"True. But I think brothers and sisters fighting is different to sisters."

Layla came running out the door with her handbag held high. "Found it!" she said, jumping into the Rav. "Sorry about that. I'd lose my head if it wasn't screwed on." She clicked her seatbelt locked. "Let's get out of here."

5

The pub was gorgeous. It was in the style of an English pub, and having been to England with Rob and the children a couple of times to visit her mother's family, Addison absolutely adored English pubs. It was called the Red Lion, and inside it looked just like one from her mother's home village in Lancashire.

Outside, however, it had more of an Australian feel. There was a large beer garden, and with it being Friday and a beautiful summer's evening, it was very busy. They got a table out there, and Layla went to the bar for drinks.

"This is pretty cool," said Olivia. "I can imagine myself hanging out here on uni breaks."

"So can I," said Addison. "I think we're going to like Getaway Bay."

"That sounds like something we should drink to," said Layla, returning with two glasses of wine and a lemonade. She handed them out and they all toasted the future.

"Now," said Addison to Layla. "Tell us what's happening with Uncle Dennis. All of it."

Layla's smile faded. "He's almost totally bedridden now. He's been getting infections. They're telling me it's close to the end."

Addison reached for Layla's hand. "I'm so sorry."

"It's hard, watching him go through this. Some days I go in there, and honestly, Addison, I just want it to be over for him. But then other days he's a bit brighter, and we can have a conversation of sorts. Those days I don't feel like giving up."

"Has Jenna been any help at all?"

Layla shook her head. "She'll never change. She's my sister, and I love her, but you know what she's like. She's only interested in herself. Even so, it's been good to have her here. For me, at least."

"What do you mean by that?" Addison took a sip of her drink. She felt a little self-conscious having such a deep conversation in front of her daughter, but Olivia was an adult now. She had a right to participate in adult conversations. Especially when they were about family.

"Jenna's been here for almost two months now. I won't sugar-coat it – she's just waiting for Dad to die."

Addison opened her mouth to speak, but Layla held up a hand to stop her. "No, don't defend her. You know her as well as I do. I don't care anymore. She's his daughter too, she's entitled to half of his estate. I don't care about that. I just wish she'd leave everyone else out of it."

"Everyone else?" Olivia asked.

"The rest of the town," said Layla, glancing around the beer garden. "Sorry, Olivia. I should explain. Jenna gets bored easily. She likes to stir up trouble. Has done all her life. She's been gracious enough to leave me out of it this time. I'm too busy caring for Dad to worry about her little games. But she's got a few of the folk around here into quite a bit of a flap."

Addison's eyes widened. "Tell us more."

Layla went on to explain how Jenna had managed to create a turf war between Hazel, maker of such wonderful coffee and terrible scones, and Edward, the owner of the local bakery. Edward served coffee and light refreshments at his bakery, apparently, so the two businesses were competitors of sorts. But there was plenty of business to go around, Layla explained, especially in the summer months when tourists outnumbered locals almost two to one.

"The cafe and the bakery have co-existed quite peacefully for decades," said Layla. "But then Hazel lost her baker. Carol retired and moved back to Brisbane to be closer to her children and grandchildren. Hazel didn't blame her, of course. But she hasn't hired a replacement, and it's hard to get career people to move to little seaside towns."

Addison sipped her wine. "Go on."

"Jenna took a liking to Hazel, or so she says. I don't believe it for a minute. I think she just saw an opportunity to play her little games. Anyway, Jenna saw that Hazel was losing business to Edward, and she didn't like it. More to the point, she didn't like Edward."

"Edward's the bakery owner?" asked Olivia.

"Yes. Anyway, first Jenna tried to get Edward's baker to leave and come work for Hazel. She didn't realise that Edward's baker is also Edward's niece, so she came out a bit red-faced on that one. Ever since she's been playing her games to get under Edward's skin."

"What sort of games?" Olivia was riveted by now. Addison smiled; she was well used to stories of Jenna's games.

"Oh, all sorts," said Layla. "For example, a couple of tourists were sat outside the bakery having coffee and croissants, apparently, when the woman screamed. She'd found a cockroach in the croissant. Jenna was at the table next to them, and Edward swears there was no cockroach in the croissant when it left his kitchen. He'd prepared that one himself. Now, Edward can be a pain in the backside around this town, as you'll soon learn, Addison, but he doesn't strike me as a liar."

"So you think Jenna put the cockroach in the croissant when the tourist couple weren't looking?" Olivia asked.

"I would believe that before I'd believe Edward a liar," said Layla. "That's just one example. Edward says she's been making his life a misery, and I don't doubt it. When Jenna gets fixated on a target, there's not much gets in her way. That young lad you've got working for you needs his head read."

"Jason?" said Addison. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Oh, didn't he tell you? They've been dating. He's smitten, apparently."

"With Jenna? He's only a kid. She's got to have at least twenty years on him."

"He's older than he looks. Twenty-nine, Jenna tells me. But yes, she is technically old enough to be his mother. Which I've pointed out."

"What on Earth does the poor boy see in her?" Addison asked.

"Beats me," said Layla, finishing off her wine. "He's going to get his heart broken, though. As soon as Dad is no longer with us and Jenna's got her half of his money, she'll be off. I'm not sure Jason realises that."

"Shouldn't you tell him?" asked Olivia.

"I've tried. He won't listen. No doubt she's been stringing him along. He'll be just a plaything to her."

They heard sirens in the distance, coming closer. A moment later a fire engine raced past, its flashing lights and ladder visible over the top of the beer garden's fence.

Addison tried to wrap her head around Jason dating Jenna. Nope. She couldn't see it. She went back to the alleged feud between Jenna and Edward.

"What does Hazel think about what Jenna's been doing to Edward, supposedly on her behalf?"

"I don't know, to be honest. Like I said, I've stayed out of it as much as possible. I'm at the nursing home most days with Dad." Layla looked towards the bar. "There you go," she said, pointing to a woman at the bar with long, wavy brown hair and wearing a purple shirt. "That's Hazel. You can ask her yourself while you're getting us another drink."

Hazel turned out to be a lovely woman. She joined them at their table and explained how she couldn't really care less about Jenna and Edward's feuding.

"I just wish they'd leave me out of it," she said, sipping on a beer. "I have nothing against either of them. I just want to find myself a baker and get on with running my business."

"Sounds like your sister is a real piece of work," said Olivia to Layla, once Hazel had left.

Addison nodded. "She always has been. Anyway, enough of that. Let's check out the menu. I'm starving."

Olivia got them three menus from the bar, but before they'd finished choosing their meals Hazel came running back to their table. She grabbed Layla by the arm.

"You've got to come quick!" She said, pulling Layla out of her seat. Conversations stopped around them.

"What's happened?" asked Addison, frightened by the look on Hazel's face.

"There's a fire at the art gallery."

Addison, Layla, Olivia, and Hazel raced out into the street, followed it seemed by half of the occupants of the pub. The art gallery was only two streets away, and they were halfway there on foot before Addison even remembered the car.

Olivia raced out in front, but the others were close on her heels. The smell of smoke hit them on the way. As they rounded the corner Olivia came to a sudden stop, and Addison almost collected her. The art gallery was well alight, the fire engine parked out the front. Firefighters raced around getting their hoses ready. Addison turned to grab hold of Layla, but her cousin was already ahead of her.

"Jenna!" Layla cried, scanning the crowd that had formed across the street from the fire. "Jenna! Where are you?"

The crowd from the pub added to the people on the street, and combined with the smoke it became difficult to see much at all. Addison scanned the crowd, looking for Jenna. She couldn't see her. She caught Layla's eye, and they both shook their heads. Then Layla looked to the fire.

Addison caught her in time.

"You can't go in there. It's too far gone. The firemen are handling it."

"They need to know she could be still in there."

"I'll tell them," said Olivia, and she crossed the street towards the fireman who seemed to be in charge. They watched as she spoke to him, then came running back to them. "They'll do their best," she said.

They watched and waited while the firefighters battled the blaze. Tears were streaming down Layla's face by the time the firefighter in charge finally came over to talk to her.

He pulled the helmet off his head. "This is your place?" he asked her.

"Yes. Did you find my sister?"

His eyes fell to the ground. "I'm sorry. We did everything we could. But I'm afraid there's a body inside."

6

Once the flames were finally extinguished, the police moved in. Detective Sergeant Issac Wilcox introduced himself to Layla and Addison, who were still huddled together across the street. Olivia had gone back to the pub to get their bags and the car.

"I'm so sorry," said Detective Wilcox to Layla. He towered over Layla, and even Addison was half a head shorter than him. He was solidly built and quite imposing, but his manner was soft and kind. "We'll get a formal identification on the remains as soon as possible, but it is looking likely at this stage that the body inside is that of your sister."

Fresh tears rolled down Layla's cheeks. It was dark now, and despite the fire and it being the middle of summer, Addison felt a chill. She didn't want Layla to have to sit here much longer.

"Is it okay if I take my cousin home to my place?" she asked the detective.

"Of course," he replied. "You're the new occupants of the beach house on Seaview, right?"

"That's right. I'm Addison Lake. I just moved there with my daughter, Olivia. Although she's off to uni in a couple of weeks."

"Okay. If you can take Ms Dallimore there, I'll be over to speak to you both again sometime tomorrow."

Olivia arrived with the Rav 4, and Addison helped Layla into the front seat. She climbed in the back and Olivia drove them back to the beach house.

Once inside, Addison guided Layla to the kitchen and sat with her at the table while Olivia put the kettle on and set about making tea.

"Are you okay, honey?" Addison asked.

Layla shook her head. "I feel numb. I can't believe it. How could a fire have taken over the gallery so quickly? There was nothing left. How could it have even started?"

"I'm sure the police will investigate." It was all Addison could think to say. "That Detective Wilcox seemed competent."

Layla nodded. "He's all right, I suppose. I haven't had much to do with him since I arrived back in town. Seen him around, that's all."

Olivia placed mugs of tea in front of each of them. "Between him and the firefighters, they'll figure it out," she said, joining them at the table.

"I'll make up one of the rooms for you," said Addison.

Layla wrapped her hands around her mug of tea. "Thank you." She looked down at what she was wearing, and burst into tears again. "It's all gone. Everything. And Jenna…"

Addison put an arm around her cousin and held her close. She had no idea what to say, so she didn't say anything. She exchanged an anxious glance with Olivia, who was quietly wiping away her own tears. Only hours ago they were celebrating their new beginning. Now one cousin was dead, and the other had lost everything she owned.

Layla pulled herself together enough to take a small sip of her tea. "Thank you," she said to both of them. "What would I have done if you two weren't here?"

"Well we are here," said Addison. "So you don't need to worry about that. Do you feel like going to bed?"

Layla nodded. "I doubt I'll sleep, but yes, I'd like to go to bed."

"I'll make up the room next to mine. You stay here with Olivia for a minute while I get it ready for you."

Addison pulled away from her cousin and went upstairs to make the bed. She hunted through her own cupboards and found a pair of pyjamas and some clothes. They weren't quite Layla's bright style, but they would do. Luckily she and Layla were roughly the same size, except for the height difference.

She put the pyjamas on the bed and the clothes on the dresser. Then she gathered a few toiletry items from her own bathroom and put them in Layla's. They could go shopping tomorrow for more supplies, but that would do to get Layla by for tonight.

Back downstairs Olivia was loading their mugs into the dishwasher. Addison took Layla up and got her settled in the room.

"Can I get you anything else? Would you like something to help you sleep?" Addison had a packet of over-the-counter sleeping pills she used on the nights when memories of her life with Rob kept her awake.

Layla considered it. "No, thank you," she finally said. "Those things make me too drowsy in the morning. I want to be alert when Detective Wilcox comes."

Addison nodded. She gave her cousin one last hug. "I'll be right next door if you need me."

"Thanks."

Back down in the kitchen Addison pulled her daughter in close.

"Wow," said Olivia. "What a welcome to the neighbourhood."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. No. I don't know, Mum. That was rough. I can't believe someone I just met a few hours ago is dead now. And that beautiful gallery, all those paintings…"

"I know. I can't believe it either. Poor Jenna. I feel awful. We just spent the better part of the evening talking about her, and now she's…" Addison couldn't bring herself to say the word. "She didn't deserve that."

"I guess we should go to bed too," said Olivia.

"Yes. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day. Oh, we didn't get to have dinner. Do you want me to fix something?"

"No, that's okay. I'm not in the least bit hungry, Mum. I'm just going to go to bed."

"Fair enough." Addison hugged her daughter, holding the embrace longer than normal. "I'll be up shortly," she added when she finally let go.

Addison re-boiled the kettle and poured herself a second mug of tea. She knew she wouldn't get much sleep tonight, but she wouldn't take a sleeping tablet. She should stay alert in case Layla needed her. It was going to be a long night.

She pulled a notebook out of a kitchen drawer. Writing might help calm her nerves. She had written a lot before Rob was diagnosed, and a lot more after, but nothing since he died. It felt good to have the pen in her hand again.

She started by making a list of everything she could remember of the evening, from when they'd arrived at the gallery. She wrote notes about her conversation with Jenna, and the later conversations about Jenna with Layla and Hazel. She had no idea why, but it felt good to get that stuff out of her head.

Once that was done, Addison made a list of everything they would need to buy at the shops for Layla tomorrow. She wasn't really one for possessions herself, but still, she couldn't imagine being left with only your handbag and the clothes you were wearing. How awful.

Addison tried to remember all the paintings she'd seen that afternoon. Treasures she'd never see again. Layla could rebuild the gallery, of course. She could replace clothes and household items. But her artworks were all one-of-a-kind. Those were lost forever.

A sudden thought upset Addison's recollections. Was the art gallery insured? Surely it must be. Layla had always been a bit scatter-brained, but she wasn't stupid. She would have insured the building she put all of her savings into, wouldn't she?

7

Addison was the first one in the kitchen the next morning. She put the coffee machine on, and looked out the back window to see if she could see Jason anywhere.

She suddenly remembered what Layla had said last night about Jason and Jenna. She wondered if the poor boy knew what had happened. She went outside and looked around the whole house, but he wasn't there. Maybe he knew.

Layla was in the kitchen when Addison went back inside, and Olivia appeared as well. Olivia made coffee for all of them.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Addison asked her cousin.

"Still numb. Thanks for the clothes. I had to get out of mine. The only clothes I have left and they stink of smoke."

Addison had noticed her own clothes had had the tell-tale smell of being close to a fire. She'd thrown them in the wash basket last night. "I'll put a load of washing on after breakfast," she said. "Get them clean again."

Olivia had her head in the fridge. "What's for breakfast?" she asked, hunger obviously catching up with her. Addison was starving, too.

"Get the eggs and bacon out," she said. "I'll get started on it." Addison didn't ask Layla if she was hungry. It was one thing she remembered from the days after Rob had passed. People kept asking you if you wanted things, and all you wanted was for people to stop asking you if you wanted things. She'd put a plate of food in front of Layla – if she was hungry, she'd eat. If not, no problem.

Addison put a pot of water on the stove to poach the eggs then set about preparing the bacon. "You're in charge of toast," she said to Olivia.

When they'd finished cooking and the plates of food were in front of them, Olivia was the only one who ate with any kind of gusto. Addison picked at her plate, and Layla managed to nibble on a piece of bacon.

Addison didn't know what to do. She asked Layla about Jason. "Do you think we should call him?"

Layla shook her head. "The whole town will know by now," she said, putting the piece of bacon back on her plate. "He'll know."

"I guess that's why he's not here," Addison said. She was thankful, in a way. Dealing with a grieving boyfriend was more than she could handle right now. She was just holding it together herself, and she hadn't even been fond of Jenna. It was the shock of it all that she was struggling to come to terms with.

Addison pushed her plate to one side. She shouldn't be thinking about herself right now. She had to help Layla.

"I thought we might go over to Riverwood later and see if we can get you some stuff. Clothes, and personal items. Anything you need." Riverwood was the nearest large town, about half an hour's drive from Getaway Bay. There were more shops there than the little seaside town had to offer.

"Yes, okay. Maybe later," said Layla. "That detective said he'd come here today. I want to be here when he does. I need to find out what happened to Jenna."

"Of course."

Addison cleared away the plates while Olivia took Layla into the great room. The two of them were sitting together silently when Addison finished in the kitchen and joined them. Olivia gave her mother a look that said she'd rather be anywhere but here, and Addison smiled and nodded in the direction of the stairs. Olivia bolted.

Addison almost asked if she could get Layla anything, but caught herself. If Layla wanted anything she'd ask. Right now, she probably just wanted to be left alone. Addison returned to the kitchen for the notebook she'd started writing in last night, then came back and sat in the chair in the window opposite Layla.

Back in Sydney, in what now felt like a previous life, Addison had loved writing. She was a high school English teacher by day, but at night when the rest of the family were in front of their various screens, she used to lock herself away in the house's little study and write stories.

She'd always loved the mystery genre, and with a homicide detective for a husband, she soon found herself writing murder mysteries. She never published anything, never even sought publication, preferring to keep her stories to herself. She'd done her best to elicit information from Rob about his cases, but he rarely liked to talk about work. That was until his diagnosis and forced retirement.

In those eight weeks between diagnosis and losing him, Addison spent hours listening to Rob talk about his work. It was like he'd needed to unload the burden of his job before he was able to let go. Addison was happy to listen. She wished he'd shared some of his stories long before, but she was at least happy to finally hear them when he felt ready to tell the tales.

A few times since his death, Addison had picked up her notebook and pen, but all she'd done was stare at the blank page. Last night was the first time she'd written anything more than a shopping list. She looked over the notes now while sitting quietly with Layla. It read like a witness statement.

There was a sharp knock at the door, which made them both jump. Addison turned to look out the window and saw Detective Wilcox and a female officer in uniform on the front verandah. Wilcox held up a hand in a wave, and Addison pushed herself out of her comfy chair to get the door.

"Good morning," he said, stepping inside as Addison opened the door wide. The officer followed him.

"Good morning, Detective." Addison closed the door behind them.

"This is Senior Constable Short," he said, introducing the other officer. He walked over to where Layla remained seated on the lounge. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Layla shrugged, and he took the chair by the window Addison had just vacated. Senior Constable Short, who was actually quite tall, remained standing. Her blond hair was neatly tied in a bun, and everything about her was orderly and efficient.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Addison asked. She had no idea how to host two officers of the law.

"No, we're fine, thank you," said Wilcox. He turned back to Layla, while Addison stood awkwardly next to Senior Constable Short. "Ms Dallimore, I'm sorry to have to tell you that we've confirmed the body found inside the art gallery was indeed your sister, Jenna Dallimore."

Layla stared at him blankly. She'd cried so much over the last twelve hours. Addison had heard her sobbing for most of the night; she must have no tears left. Addison felt her own eyes well up. This was all too much.

"Layla," the detective continued softly. "I'm going to need to ask you a few questions. Will it be okay to do that now? Get them out of the way?"

Layla nodded.

"Okay, good." He glanced at Short, who dutifully took out a small notebook and pen. "First, can you talk me through your day yesterday?"

"I spent most of the day at the nursing home with Dad," said Layla.

"Getaway Care? The local home?"

"Yes. Dad's been there for a couple of years. He's not well. It's close to the end. That's why Jenna was staying with me." Layla looked up at Addison. "Oh, no. How am I going to tell Dad about Jenna?"

"We'll do it together," Addison reassured her.

Layla nodded.

"What time did you go to the nursing home?" Detective Wilcox asked.

"I left the gallery around ten yesterday morning. I called in at Hazel's to get a coffee on my way. I used to get Dad one too, but he can't drink it now. He's stopped eating as well." Layla tugged on the sleeve of the cardigan Addison had left out for her last night. It was a warm day again, but Addison understood Layla's need for the cardigan. She wanted to feel enveloped.

"I parked in the town centre, got my coffee from Hazel, and walked the two blocks to the nursing home," Layla continued. "I came out at lunch time, got a sandwich from Hazel, and ate it in the town square. Then I went back and sat with Dad for another couple of hours. I read to him. He seems to like it."

"What did you read?" Wilcox asked.

Layla smiled. "We're working our way through the Harry Potter books. We're up to The Order of the Phoenix. Sometimes I wonder if he's listening, but then he'll laugh at just the right place in the story. He's still fighting."

Wilcox waited a moment before prodding Layla to continue. "Did you go straight back to the gallery from the nursing home?"

"Yes. I worried that Jenna had been there all day by herself. I got home at four, and she'd already opened a bottle of wine. She said she'd been on the phone all day with her work back in Sydney. She asked me how much longer Dad was going to hold on for. I got really angry with her." Layla started to cry then, but Addison wasn't sure if she even noticed.

"What do you mean by angry?" asked Wilcox.

"Well, upset more than angry, I guess. She's so cold about Dad. It's like she doesn't care. Didn't care. Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

Wilcox didn't answer. "So you got home around four and were upset with your sister. Did you argue?"

"No, not really. There was no point arguing with Jenna. She never changed her mind about anything. Never gave in. It was pointless. I asked her again why she even bothered to come here if she wasn't going to visit Dad. She kept telling me she was there to support me, but she caused more trouble than it was worth. Oh, listen to me. I shouldn't be saying these nasty things about my sister. I just can't believe she's dead."

Layla reached for a tissue and blew her nose. She looked for a pocket in the cardigan, but there wasn't one, so she scrunched the tissue up in her hand.

"Can we continue this later?" Addison asked. "This is a very hard time—"

Addison was interrupted by a couple of loud beeps. Wilcox and Short both checked their mobile phones, then exchanged glances.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to keep going, Mrs Lake. We've just received confirmation from the pathologist conducting the autopsy. There's proof Jenna Dallimore was murdered."

8

"Murdered?" A chill ran down Addison's back. Her eyes shot to Layla, who looked stunned. "What do you mean Jenna was murdered?" Addison continued. "It was a fire. Surely she died in the fire?"

Wilcox shook his head. "All I can tell you is that Jenna was killed before the fire began." He turned back to Layla. "What did you mean by saying Jenna caused more trouble than she was worth?"

"I'm sorry, Detective," said Layla. "Can I have a moment?"

"Of course," he replied, but didn't move from the lounge chair.

Addison took Layla by the arm and pulled her into the kitchen. She closed the door behind them then took Layla into her arms.

"I don't understand," Layla said between tears. "How could she have been murdered? We left her there alone, drinking her wine. Next thing the place is on fire. What the heck happened, Addison?"

"I don't know. But I promise you, we're going to find out. Right now, though, I think we need to go back in there and answer the detective's questions."

Layla took a step back. "He thinks I'm a suspect," she said, realising what Addison had known as soon as Wilcox had mentioned murder. You can't be married to a homicide cop for twenty years and not know that family are always first on the list of suspects.

"It's just routine, sweetheart. He has to ask these questions. The sooner we answer them and get him out of here, the sooner he can go off and find the real killer."

Layla took a deep breath before nodding and opening the door to re-enter the great room. Wilcox and Short stopped the quiet discussion they'd been having and watched her walk back to the couch.

"I'm sorry," Layla said, taking a seat. Addison sat next to her this time. "This is all such a terrible shock. But I understand you have to ask your questions. Where were we up to?"

"I asked what you meant when you said Jenna caused more trouble than she was worth."

"Oh, right." Layla explained the feud between Jenna and Edward Mathieson to Wilcox and Short exactly as she had told it to Addison and Olivia last night. "It was just Jenna playing her silly games to amuse herself," Layla said when she'd finished. "I can't see that anyone would want to kill her for it."

"No, but we need to examine all possibilities," said Wilcox. "Okay, so let's get back to your movements yesterday. After you got home from the nursing home, then what did you do?"

"I didn't want to stay in with Jenna, so I called Addison. I knew they'd been working on the beach house all day, so I suggested we go to the pub for dinner. They came and got me at the gallery. That was the last time I saw the place. The last time I saw Jenna alive."

Wilcox turned to Addison. "What time did you get to the gallery?"

"About half past five, I think. Layla called at around five. Olivia and I had showers, and then drove over. It was no later than five-thirty when we got there. Perhaps even a touch earlier."

"Right. And how long were you there?"

"About fifteen or twenty minutes, I think. Layla showed Olivia around the gallery, as she'd never been there before. I went upstairs and talked to Jenna."

"And how did Jenna seem to you?" asked Wilcox.

"Like her usual self," Addison replied. "She spoke about her father, and how she was here to support Layla. Then Layla and Olivia came upstairs. Olivia spoke to Jenna briefly, and asked her if she wanted to join us at the pub for dinner."

"Jenna declined?"

"Yes. She said there was nothing she liked on the menu. Then we left."

"All three of you left together?"

"Yes. Oh, when we got to the car Layla had forgotten her purse. So we waited while she ran back in to get it."

Wilcox and Short exchanged glances again. Constable Short turned the page in her notebook and continued scribbling.

"How long was she gone at that time?" asked Wilcox.

"When she ran back into the house? Oh, I don't know, two or three minutes? She had to unlock the gallery and go through up to the flat."

Wilcox turned to Layla, who nodded. "Yes. I couldn't find it at first. And Jenna was no help. I finally found it hanging on the back of the door."

"When you left the gallery, was the door locked?"

"Yes, of course. Jenna was upstairs. I locked the outside gallery door, so no-one could get in. But the door between the gallery and upstairs was not locked. I never locked that one."

"Then the three of you drove to the pub," said Wilcox, "and that's where you were when you heard about the fire."

"That's right," said Addison.

"So Layla, as far as we know you were the last person to see your sister alive. And you were alone with her at the time. For two or three minutes."

"Yes, but I was just getting my bag. Jenna didn't even get up from her seat on the balcony."

Wilcox pulled his own notebook out then and the room was silent while he wrote. Addison couldn't stand it.

"You can't possibly think that Layla went inside, killed her sister, and then came back and went to the pub with us?"

"We're just gathering the facts at the moment," said Senior Constable Short. It was the first thing she'd said since the officers had arrived.

"What about the fire?" Addison pressed. "If Layla killed Jenna, who started the fire? Or are you going to tell us it was a coincidence that a fire accidentally started right after Jenna was murdered."

Short looked at Wilcox, who closed his notebook. "No, the fire was no accident," he said. "It was deliberately lit." He stood and tucked his notebook in his pocket. "That's all we need for now. Will you be staying here for the foreseeable future?" he asked Layla.

Layla looked at Addison, who answered for her. "Yes. She'll stay here for as long as she needs to."

Addison saw Wilcox and Short out, then came back and sat by Layla's side. "They don't really think you killed her, Layla."

"Don't they? They sounded pretty suspicious to me. I was the last one to see her alive. Alone. That's what they said."

"But it doesn't make sense. They said they have proof Jenna was murdered, and proof the fire was deliberately lit. Surely that means whoever did it, did both things. It's ludicrous to believe that one person killed Jenna, and another person came along and deliberately lit a fire. So that means whoever killed Jenna, must have also started the fire."

"So?"

"So you were with us in the pub when the fire started. You definitely didn't start the fire. So you couldn't have killed her either. Don't worry. The police will work it out soon enough. No-one is going to think you killed Jenna."

Layla nodded, pulling the cardigan around herself once more. "I guess you're right. But someone did those things, Addison. Someone killed my sister and set fire to the gallery. Who would do this to us? And why?"

9

After fortifying themselves with more coffee, Addison and Layla made the half hour drive to Riverwood to buy Layla some essentials. They spent an hour picking out clothes and personal items before it all got too much for Layla.

"Are you okay?" Addison asked.

Layla's eyes narrowed, and she cast a glance around the shopping centre. "I don't know. I feel like someone's watching us."

"Really?" Addison followed her cousin's gaze. "I don't see anyone. You're probably just feeling overwhelmed. It's understandable." She didn't want to add that maybe it was the stress of being under suspicion by the police.

Addison spotted a cafe in the shopping centre with a quiet booth in the corner. "Let's get some lunch," she said, and guided Layla into the cafe. They both ordered light meals, and Layla pushed food around on her plate.

"Do you want to go home?" Addison asked.

"I don't have a home."

"Oh, Layla. I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"It's okay. I really don't know what I want to do. There are so many things I should be doing. Contacting the insurance agency, for a start."

Addison breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been too afraid to ask whether the gallery and flat had been insured.

"I can make that call for you, if you'd like."

"And then there's Jenna's funeral. I'm the only family she has, besides Dad. I have no idea what she would have wanted. Should the funeral be here, or back in Sydney? I don't even know what friends I should be notifying. Or if she even had any friends."

Addison finished a mouthful of salad. "You don't know if she had any friends?"

Layla shook her head. "We didn't talk much. These last two months are the longest we've ever spent together since we were children. We're just such different people, Addison."

"I know. You always have been. What about her work colleagues? Do you know any of them?"

"No. I know where she worked, though. I suppose I should phone them, too."

"The police may have already done so. But you're right, we should phone them. I can take care of that when we get back to the beach house." Addison pushed her plate aside and reached across the table to place a hand over Layla's. "Hon, do you want to go and see your dad now?"

Layla nodded. "I don't have a clue how I'm going to tell him about Jenna, or even if I should. Half the time he thinks we're still little girls."

"Whether you tell him or not, it might do you good to go see him now." Addison remembered how important family were when Rob died. No matter who they were or what your relationship was like, family was family.

Layla took a deep breath and pulled herself up out of the booth. Addison paid for their food and they were soon on their way back to Getaway Bay.

The nursing home was bright and cheerful, flowers lining both sides of the drive through to the entrance. Addison couldn't help but feel uplifted by all the colour.

"It's beautiful," she said as they climbed out of the Rav and made their way to the front door.

"They have gardeners come every day," said Layla. "It's even nicer out the back, where the residents have a lovely sitting area."

Nurses and staff greeted Layla by name as they signed in and she led Addison down a corridor to Dennis's room. Addison was shocked when she saw her uncle for the first time in so many years. He was half the size he used to be, and his skin was almost the same grey as his hair. She quickly fixed a smile on her face, anxious that the old man not notice her surprise.

"Hi Dad," said Layla, her voice brighter than it had been these last twenty-four hours. "How are you today?"

Dennis nodded and smiled at Layla, before regarding Addison with a confused look.

"This is Addison, Dad. Your niece. You remember her?"

After a moment's consideration Dennis nodded, although not with the same enthusiasm as his greeting for Layla. Addison doubted he knew who she was.

"You not talking today, Dad?"

Dennis shook his head, and pointed to the book on his bedside table. Addison leaned forward to read the title. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Layla had said Dennis liked being read to.

Layla settled into the chair beside the bed, picked up the book, and searched for her place. Before she could start reading one of the nursing staff entered the room. She was a large lady with a kind face.

"Hi Angie," said Layla. "This is my cousin, Addison."

Angie came around the bed and pulled Layla in for a hug. "I was so sorry to hear what happened," she said in a low voice. "Hi Addison," she added.

Addison nodded a greeting, keeping one eye on her uncle to see if he'd registered that something was wrong. He didn't seem to understand.

"Can I get you girls anything?" said Angie, letting Layla settle herself back in the chair.

"We're fine," said Layla. "Dad wants me to read some more of Harry Potter to him."

"He does seem to enjoy those books." Angie fussed with Dennis's pillows, making sure he was comfortable. Addison was touched when Angie gently stroked Dennis's forehead.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a cup of tea," Addison said. "Can you show me where I can make one, Angie?"

"Of course. Follow me."

Addison didn't really want a cup of tea. She wanted to give Layla some time alone with her father. She also wanted to ask Angie how he was doing.

"It looks like Dennis is being well cared for," she said.

"We do our best," Angie replied as she led the way down the hall. "They get to be like family, you know. Dennis has been with us for three years now. He's a lovely man. Not very talkative lately, unfortunately. But that happens."

"How is he doing? I mean, Layla told me he wasn't too well. Infections, or something. Can you tell me any more?"

Angie turned down a corridor to the left and they stepped into a small lounge area. There was a kitchenette in the corner with tea and coffee making facilities.

"I can't give you any details, sorry, as you're not immediate family. But yes, he isn't doing terribly well. That's why his other daughter was in town, as you probably know. We're not sure how much longer he has left. All we can do now is keep him comfortable."

"Well it looks like you're doing a great job of that. Layla says all the staff here are wonderful."

Angie smiled. "It's terrible, this business with Layla's sister and the fire. I heard about it on the news this morning. When I got here the rest of the staff were talking about it. Poor Layla. She's such a lovely woman. And a caring daughter. She's here nearly every day."

Addison was surprised all the staff were talking about the fire already. She'd heard about small-town gossip, but never experienced it first-hand. It was definitely different to living in Sydney.

"Has Uncle Dennis been told about the fire?" she asked. "About Jenna?"

"Not by us," said Angie.

"Layla was worried about how she was going to tell him."

"If you want my advice, I wouldn't tell him at all."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Angie lowered her large frame onto the couch in the room and patted the seat next to her for Addison to sit.

"Most of the time Dennis thinks his daughters are still little girls. If you were to tell him that Jenna was dead, he would feel the grief as if he were a young father losing a small child. In my opinion, he's not strong enough for that."

"So you think it's kinder not to tell him one of his daughters is dead?"

"I know it sounds mean, but yes. These last two years Dennis has frequently spoken of his wife as if she were still alive. Mentally, he's back in the prime of his life. Whenever Layla told him the truth, that her mother had passed away years ago, he either refused to believe it, or he went through the grieving process all over again. Eventually we recommended Layla go along with his version of things."

Addison could see why it would be kinder, but still, it seemed wrong. Deceitful.

Angie must have sensed her reservations. "It would be different if he were still living out in the world, having to manage a household and everyday tasks. But in here he's safe. In here, he can live whatever version of reality his mind wants him to."

That made sense. "Thank you," Addison said. "For taking such good care of him. And of Layla."

Angie's face lit up with a warm smile. "That's what we're here for. Now, shall I make you that cup of tea?"

"No, thanks. I'd better get back to them."

Layla was wrapping up a chapter when Addison found her way back to the room. Dennis had drifted off to sleep.

"He looks peaceful," Addison whispered.

Layla nodded. She marked her place in the book, then set it back on the side table. She leant forward and kissed her father on the forehead, and they left him to sleep.

"I'm so pleased he's in here," Layla said once they reached the Rav. "It's one less thing for me to worry about."

"Did you tell him about Jenna?"

"No. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

Addison relayed what Angie had told her as they climbed into the Rav and headed for the beach house.

"She's probably right," said Layla. "I guess telling him would be more for my benefit than his. It wouldn't do any good, though. The dad I need to comfort me is long gone."

Addison reached over and squeezed Layla's hand. "I'm here for you," she said. It felt like such a small gesture. They hadn't seen each other for years. But it looked like Addison would soon be the only family Layla had left.

10

As she steered the Rav 4 into the driveway of the beach house, Addison was surprised to see Olivia was not alone.

"Have you made a new friend?" Addison called out as she and Layla approached the house with the bags of shopping.

Olivia smiled, and the little dog at her feet barked. "He just came and plonked himself on the verandah. He doesn't have a collar. No ID."

Addison dumped her bags and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. He promptly rolled over and produced his belly for a rub. Addison obliged. He was a cute little fellow, but she had no idea what type of dog he was. There seemed to be a bit of everything in there. She could tell he was quite young, though. His white fluffy fur was matted in places, but otherwise he looked well cared-for.

"We'll have to find out where he's from," she said. "He looks like he might have escaped from somewhere." She ran her hands over the matted sections of his coat. "He's probably been out for a while."

"You can take him to Juliet," said Layla. "She's the local vet. She might have an idea who he belongs to."

"Good idea." Addison picked up the bags she'd dropped, and she and Layla went inside the house. Olivia and the dog followed. "Will you be okay here by yourself if we take him now?" Addison asked Layla.

"Sure."

Addison turned to walk back outside but stopped when she saw the police cruiser pull into the driveway behind her Rav.

"Maybe we'll stick around for a bit," she said as Detective Wilcox and Senior Constable Short made their way to the open front door.

"I'll find this little guy something to eat," said Olivia. "Come on, fella." She led the dog into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

Wilcox knocked on the open door.

"Come in," said Addison. Layla had settled herself onto the couch again. "Do you have any news?"

"Not much has changed since this morning," said Wilcox. "We've got some more questions for Layla." He turned to address her on the couch. "May we speak to you in private?"

"Why?"

"We've got some questions of a personal nature," he said, with a nervous glance toward Addison. "You might want to keep them private."

Layla shook her head. "I have no secrets, Detective. I'd like Addison to stay."

Wilcox shrugged. "Fair enough." They all took seats.

Addison didn't bother offering them anything to drink this time. She and Layla both stared at Wilcox, waiting for him to start with his personal questions.

"We've been doing some checking into your sister's financial status," he began. "It seems she never married, nor did she have any children. Is that correct?"

"Yes. Jenna wasn't terribly interested in finding a soul mate. She was more interested in making money. He career was her life."

"She was a lawyer," said Short. It was a statement, rather than a question. Layla said nothing.

"It seems she was very good at making money," Wilcox went on. "Her estate is quite considerable."

"Are you leading up to a question, Detective?" asked Addison.

Wilcox regarded her with pursed lips and narrowed eyes before redirecting his attention to Layla. "We've discovered that you are the sole beneficiary of her will, Ms Dallimore. You stand to inherit a significant sum of money. Were you aware of this?"

Layla shrugged. "We never discussed it, but it doesn't surprise me. Jenna was always very financially savvy. She was also big on keeping her personal affairs in order. If you're asking me whether I knew I would inherit all her money, the answer is no, not specifically. But Dad and I are her only living relatives. There's no point leaving anything to Dad…" Layla choked back tears, and took a moment to continue. "It stands to reason she would have left her estate to me."

Addison went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. When she returned and placed it by Layla's side, Wilcox was just finishing what he was getting at.

"…now inherit all of your father's wealth as well, rather than just half."

"Are you suggesting Layla killed her sister for money?" said Addison, retaking her seat. "That's ridiculous."

"Please, Mrs Lake. Let us ask our questions," said Short. Not that she was asking any of the questions.

"We have to investigate all possibilities," added Wilcox. "In our experience, money is a major motive for murder."

"Well not in this case," said Addison. The idea was outrageous. Yes, Layla and Jenna weren't the closest of sisters. But the gallery was insured, and as far as Addison was aware Layla wasn't hard up financially.

"It's okay, Addison," said Layla. "They have to ask. I can assure you, Detective I did not kill my sister for her money, or my father's. I did not kill my sister at all. Someone else did this."

"What about the fire?" asked Addison. "If Layla killed Jenna, who started the fire? Layla was at the pub with us when that happened. With at least fifty other people. There's no way she started that fire."

"No, that appears to be true," said Wilcox. "Although, there are ways to start a fire and not have it take hold immediately," he added.

"Like how?"

"I can't get into that right now. The fire is still under investigation. We'll know more when we have the fire investigator's report. But just because Ms Dallimore was elsewhere when the fire took hold, doesn't get her off the hook for murder."

Addison couldn't believe what she was hearing. She decided to change the subject before she lost her temper.

"Do you have any other suspects?"

"I can't discuss that with you either. But I can tell you we're following a number of lines of inquiry."

"Inquiry into other suspects, or just Layla?"

"I can't—"

"I know, I know, you can't discuss that with us. What can you tell us?"

Wilcox's face reddened. "We didn't come here to tell you anything, Mrs Lake. We came here to ask the questions, not answer them."

Addison held up both hands. "Okay. Fair enough. Ask your questions."

"Thank you." Wilcox pulled his notebook out of his pocket and proceeded to ask Layla to recount her whereabouts yesterday, asking her exactly the same questions as he had this morning. Addison bit her lip and crossed her arms over her chest to keep herself from butting in.

Layla answered all of his questions, as she had done this morning. Wilcox seemed frustrated that he was unable to trip her up in a lie. Of course he couldn't – because she wasn't lying. Addison found herself wishing Rob were here. He'd have conducted this investigation very differently. For a start, he'd be out looking for the real culprit instead of adding to Layla's grief.

"Thank you very much for your time again, Ms Dallimore," said Wilcox when he was done. He and Short stood to leave. Not before time, thought Addison.

"Please call me Layla. No-one calls me Ms Dallimore."

"Okay. We'll be in touch, Layla." With a nod he then turned to Addison. "We'll show ourselves out."

"I can't stand him," said Addison once they were safely out of earshot.

"I noticed," said Layla with a smile. "He's just doing his job. Try not to be so hard on him. You said yourself yesterday that he has to ask these questions."

"Yes, to rule you out. But he's carrying on with the idea that you killed Jenna. It's ludicrous."

"Because I didn't do it. Which means there's no evidence to say that I did. He'll figure that out."

"Meanwhile the real killer gets away with it," said Addison. She watched the police cruiser drive away and closed the front door. "Not if I can help it," she added, an idea forming in her head.

11

Layla had gone to lie down, so Addison and Olivia left her alone at the beach house while they took the dog to the vet. Addison hadn't even pulled out of the driveway before she started complaining about Wilcox.

"He's barking up the wrong tree," she said, turning onto Seaview Drive. "Layla wouldn't hurt a fly. She doesn't have a mean bone in her body."

Olivia grinned. "Wow. Three clichés in a row. He's really upset you, Mum."

"Well it looks like she's his main suspect. She shouldn't even be a suspect at all, let alone his whole focus. It's ludicrous. Don't you agree?"

"Of course. She was with us. And you know her, she's your cousin. But you have to look at it from the detective's point of view. It's his job to investigate anyone who stands to gain from Jenna's death. He can't let family relationships and the fact that Layla is a nice person get in the way of that."

"But I can tell him she didn't do it. Then he can move on to finding out who did do it."

"And why should he trust you? He doesn't know you anymore than he knows Layla. Less, actually. We literally just moved here. He's not Dad, Mum."

No, he certainly isn't. Addison missed Rob terribly in that moment. He'd been gone two years, and not a day went by when she didn't miss him. But in moments like this his absence was crushing.

"Your father would be casting a wider net," said Addison, prompting more laughter from her daughter.

"How come you always speak in clichés when you're mad?"

"What? I don't. Do I?"

"Yep. You've always done it. It's hilarious."

"Well I'm glad you find me funny." Addison spotted the vet's in the middle of town. She parked the Rav in a shady spot. "Come on, let's find out who this little fella belongs to."

Addison was worried the dog would run off as soon as they opened the doors, but he seemed totally attached to Olivia and followed at her heel.

"Good afternoon," said Addison as they walked in. A short, slim woman in a uniform turned to greet them, but caught sight of the dog first.

"Charlie!" she cried, coming around from behind the counter to wrap the dog in her arms. She gave him a good cuddle and a scratch behind the ears before she looked up to find Addison and Olivia staring at her.

"Where did you find him?" asked the vet, her name tag now visible.

"He just walked up and knocked on the door," said Olivia. "Well, he didn't really knock, but near enough."

The vet stood and offered a hand to them both. "I'm Juliet Porter. Sorry, I'm the only one here on a Saturday. It's so good to see Charlie!"

Addison introduced herself and Olivia. "We've just moved into the beach house on Seaview," she explained. "Charlie came wandering over today, and seems to have taken a liking to Olivia."

"Let's get him checked out," said Juliet. "Come on through to the back." She led them into an examination room and lifted Charlie up onto the stainless-steel table.

"I assume you know who Charlie belongs to?" Addison asked as Juliet started looking the dog over.

"Oh, yes. Sorry, you're new around here. Charlie was Jerry Nichols's dog. He's been missing for a couple of weeks."

"Was?" said Olivia.

"Yes. Unfortunately, old Jerry passed away. Charlie ran off before anyone realised he was missing. The whole town's been so worried about him."

"Oh," said Olivia, and Addison noticed the disappointment in her daughter's voice. Olivia had always wanted a dog. "So has Jerry's family been looking for Charlie?"

"Kind of. Jerry didn't have any actual family, but he was a long-term resident of Getaway Bay. He was everybody's family. And so is Charlie."

Juliet checked Charlie's teeth and gums, and then listened to his heart, all the while doling out liver treats which the dog crunched happily.

"So does Charlie have a home to go to now?" Addison asked. Olivia's eyes revealed just how much she wanted Juliet to say no, but Addison wasn't sure she could take on the responsibility of a dog.

"I don't think he does, no," said Juliet. As if on cue Charlie lunged into Olivia's arms. "He seems to have taken a liking to you!"

"Mum…"

"I don't know, Livvy. We've got so much happening in our lives right now. A lot of new things to adjust to. I don't think adding a dog to the mix is such a good idea. Besides, you're off to university in two more weeks. You won't even be here."

"But Charlie will give me an extra reason to come visit every holidays," she said, eyes pleading.

Addison didn't know whether to laugh or be offended.

"What are you studying?" asked Juliet.

"Forensic Science at Griffith. My dad was a cop, and he got me interested in all that."

"Sounds great." Juliet finished poking and prodding Charlie. She looked up at Addison. "He's a little thinner than he was, and his fur needs sorting out, but otherwise it seems Charlie has survived his adventure unscathed."

"That's good news," said Addison, giving the dog a scratch on the head. He was happily lapping up Olivia's cuddles.

"I can take him home with me until we find a new home for him," said Juliet, "But I have to admit I have a rather full house. If you have the room and don't mind…"

Now Juliet was giving her the hopeful eye, too. Addison didn't stand a chance.

"All right. We'll take Charlie for the time being. I've got a lot on my mind right now, and this little fella doesn't deserve a rushed decision. We'll figure out what to do with him later." She gave Olivia her best stern face. "You're responsible for looking after him," she said. "Feeding, washing, cleaning up after him. All of it. Deal?"

"Deal!" Olivia beamed with the brightest smile Addison had seen in a long time. It looked like they'd just added to the beach house's growing list of residents.

"Is there a groomer in town?" Addison asked. "We'd better get him cleaned up."

"There's one right behind my surgery," said Juliet. "Just go down the driveway, and you'll come to a glass door. Josie will sort him out. She'll be delighted to see him."

"Great, thanks. What do I owe you?"

Juliet held up her hands. "No, nothing for today. There's nothing wrong with him, and I'm just glad he's been found. Thank you for bringing him in."

After purchasing a collar and lead and a few other supplies to keep Charlie going, they said goodbye and followed the driveway down to the glass door. Addison slid it open and did a double take. Juliet must have gone another way to meet them here, because there she was standing behind the counter.

"You've just met my sister, haven't you?" said the woman, who Addison now realised wasn't Juliet at all.

"You're identical twins," said Olivia. "Cool."

"Charlie!" Josie reacted to the dog just like her sister had, and Addison and Olivia waited until the second reunion of the day was over.

"Do you normally groom Charlie?" Addison asked once they'd introduced themselves.

"Yes. We were so worried when Jerry passed away and Charlie went missing." She leaned over and swooped Charlie up in her arms. "I'll get him all cleaned up. Are you going to take him?"

"Yes," said Olivia, that beaming smile gracing her face again.

"For now," Addison clarified. "Until we can decide what's best for him."

"Well the first cut's on the house," said Josie. "Everyone's going to be so thrilled Charlie's back. Oh, hey, are you the new people out at the beach house?"

"That's right."

"You must be Layla's cousin. I'm so sorry about what's happened. You know, to her sister. And the gallery. It's such a tragedy."

"Thanks. Did you know Jenna?" Addison asked.

Josie shook her head. "Not really. I heard a lot about her, though. She certainly caused more than her fair share of drama. Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude. Me and my big mouth. She was your cousin. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"No, that's okay. Layla told us what's been going on."

"So you know about Jason?"

"Jason Sadler? Yes. Layla mentioned they'd been dating, although I struggled to see it. Jenna was old enough to be his mother."

Josie's eyebrows raised as she nodded. "That's what everyone tried to tell him. It was no use. The boy was smitten. He's a good guy, Jason, but he has a tendency to let his heart rule his head."

"So he was really in love with her?" asked Olivia.

"Oh yes. That's why he was devastated when she told him she was leaving." Josie continued to pat Charlie as she talked, who sat there on the counter as if he was listening to every word.

"She told him that?" asked Addison. Layla hadn't mentioned Jason knew Jenna was leaving town.

"A couple of days ago, apparently. Jason was really angry. Rumour has it he put his fist through a wall at his mother's place. Lucky he knows how to fix holes in walls. Anyway, I'd better get on with cleaning up this little one. Can you come back for him in an hour or so?"

"Sure," said Addison, not paying much attention. Her mind was already starting to wander. What if Jason had been angry enough to try and stop Jenna from leaving? What if it didn't work and he killed her?

She might have just found her first suspect.

12

"You're going to investigate, aren't you," said Olivia once they'd left Charlie behind with Josie.

Addison shrugged. "Someone has to."

"Mum. That's what the police are for."

"And if the police were doing a decent job, I'd be able to leave them to it. But they're focusing on Layla, and we know she's innocent. Here, you drive. I have to make a phone call."

Olivia took the keys out of her mother's hand and approached the driver's side of the Rav 4. "Where to?"

"Home. I don't want to leave Layla on her own for too long."

Olivia started the car and pulled out into traffic, what little of it there was in Getaway Bay. "Do you remember what Dad used to say about people who tried to do his job for him?"

"He didn't speak too favourably about them," said Addison, pulling her phone out of her handbag.

"That's right. So what makes you different?"

"I was a homicide detective's wife for twenty years, Liv. That's got to count for something."

Olivia shook her head. "I doubt Detective Wilcox will see it that way."

"Well if Detective Wilcox would stop hounding Layla and get on with finding the real killer, I wouldn't have to." Addison located the number she needed on her phone and then held a hand up to stop Olivia protesting further. She pressed send to make the call.

"Hello?" His voice was small and croaky, as if he'd just got out of bed.

"Jason? Hi, It's Addison."

"Oh, hi. I'm sorry I didn't come around to the beach house today. I thought… with what's happened… the fire…"

"Yes, thank you. I understand. But I wonder if you wouldn't mind coming over for an hour or so? It's just…" Addison struggled to come up with a decent excuse. "Layla is staying with us for the time being, and I really want to crack on and get at least one room looking nice for her. You know, to help her feel at home."

Olivia raised her eyebrows at her mother, but Addison pointed to the road.

"Oh, okay," said Jason. "I'll be right there." He sounded like he'd rather be anywhere but the beach house.

"Just for an hour. Two at the most. Thank you, Jason." Addison ended the call.

"What are you going to do? Ask him if he killed Jenna?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know. But I'm sure we could find out something just by talking to him."

"Woah, what's this we? I never agreed to participate in your investigation," said Olivia. They were almost back at the beach house.

"And why not? You're just about to embark on a career in forensic science. Your life is going to be all about catching bad guys. I thought you'd be all over this." It felt a little like playing dirty to bring Olivia's chosen field of study into the debate, but Addison meant what she said. Why wouldn't Olivia want to get involved and help prove their cousin's innocence?

Olivia sighed. She pulled the Rav into the beach house driveway and engaged the parking brake before switching off the engine. She undid her seatbelt and turned to face her mother.

"I'm worried about you, Mum. Moving up here was a big change after losing Dad. You bought a huge rundown house that you're insisting on doing up yourself. You want to run a bed and breakfast without having a clue how much hard work that involves. And now you're going off on another tangent, investigating a murder of all things. What is going on?"

Addison was shocked. Everything Olivia said was true, but she'd never looked at it that way herself. She was getting on with her life. Was that so bad? Did it matter how she chose to do it?

"Do you think I should have stayed in Sydney?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. We all felt the need to leave Sydney. I get that. But I worry you're taking on too much. You're retired, you know. You're supposed to be taking it easy."

"I'm retired from teaching. I'm not retired from life, sweetheart." Addison could see where this was going now. Both her kids worried she took on too much, especially after losing Rob. But sometimes they treated her like she was an old woman already. "I can handle the beach house, and the bed and breakfast. And I can handle this, too. It's not like I'm launching a full-scale investigation. I'm just going to ask Jason a few questions, that's all. Relax."

Addison opened her door and climbed out of the Rav before Olivia could object further. Jason was already pulling into the driveway in his truck. She left her daughter and went over to greet him.

"Thank you so much for coming, Jason. I know it must be hard for you. You were close to Jenna too, I heard."

"Hi Mrs Lake. I mean, Addison. Yes, Jenna and I were… actually, I don't know what we were. How's Layla doing?"

"She's holding up. Come inside, I'll get you a cold drink before we start work."

Addison decided to tread carefully. She hadn't a clue what to ask Jason, besides where he was when the fire started. He walked with slumped shoulders into the house, and she recognised how fragile he was. She wanted to get to the bottom of his relationship with Jenna, but she didn't want to push him away. Assuming he was innocent, she still needed his help on the beach house.

"Hi, Layla," Jason said as they entered the house. Layla was in her usual position on the couch, staring out the window. She stood when she saw Jason.

"Come here," she said, wrapping him in a hug. They both teared up, and Addison felt a little guilty standing there watching. Olivia had already fled to her room.

"I'm so sorry," Jason said to Layla. "She was your sister. And the gallery…"

Was Jason sorry for Layla's loss, or sorry that he caused it?

Addison left them alone and went into the kitchen to fix cold drinks. She came out a few minutes later carrying a tray with three glasses of her favourite pink grapefruit cordial.

"Here we go," she said, setting the tray on the coffee table. "How are you holding up?" she asked Layla.

"I'm okay. I think I might go for a walk. Clear my head."

"That's a good idea," said Addison. "Jason's going to help me with the room on the other side of mine. We should have it finished in a day or two, then you can get yourself properly settled."

"You shouldn't be making Jason work right now," said Layla. "He's grieving too."

"It's okay," said Jason. "I think it will be better if I keep busy." He polished off a glass of cordial in one go. "Can we get started?"

Layla headed off for her walk, taking a hat from the hatstand on her way out.

Addison sat staring at Jason. "You want to know why, don't you?" he finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why I loved her when she was so much older than me."

"Well, I have to admit I am a little curious. You're a good-looking young man. With lovely manners. I'm sure there are plenty of young women around here chasing you."

Jason sighed. "You sound like my mother. And I get it, I do. But no-one else made me feel like Jenna did. She didn't care what other people thought of her. She was a strong woman. I loved her. I thought she loved me, too."

"I knew Jenna her whole life, Jason. The only person she ever loved was herself."

He stood. "Let's get going on that room. I'll go and get the paint from the shed."

They spent the next hour discussing what needed to be done to make the room inhabitable. Jason gave her instructions, and Addison came up with some styling ideas while her mind worked overtime trying to decide how to ask him where he was last night. Eventually she just came out with it.

"Jason, I'm sorry to bring it up again, but I'm curious. Where were you last night when the fire started?"

"You think I killed Jenna?"

"No, I didn't say that…"

"It's all right. I know what people are saying. Nothing is secret in this town. But I didn't kill her. I loved her."

"So where were you?"

"I was at home. And before you ask, no, no-one can verify that."

Addison started work on removing the wallpaper. She always found it helpful to have something to do with her hands when she was part of an important conversation.

"You knew Jenna was planning to leave for Sydney as soon as her father died, right?"

"Yeah." Jason helped with the wallpaper stripping. "We talked about it a couple of days ago. But I thought I could change her mind. I still think I could have, if I had time. Now we'll never know."

Addison decided to change the subject. She'd grilled the poor boy enough. "I heard Jenna had been creating waves amongst some of the people here in Getaway Bay."

Jason half-smiled. "She gave old Ed a bit of trouble."

"Edward Mathieson? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yeah. He didn't like her at all. If there was anyone who might have killed Jenna, I reckon it'd be him."

13

Addison asked Jason why Edward didn't like Jenna, expecting to get the same story of cafe rivalry and cockroaches in croissants that she'd already heard from Layla. She didn't expect what Jason said next.

"She told me she didn't like him because he was a bully."

"A bully? Is that true? Do you think he's a bully?"

Jason shrugged and pulled down a large sheet of wallpaper. "He can be pushy sometimes. He likes to think he runs Getaway Bay. He's our representative on the council, and he's always saying how we need to do this and that for the town, for progress, that sort of thing. I don't really listen much."

"But Jenna did."

"Oh yeah. She said people like that back in Sydney were known as bullies, and when she called him on it he couldn't handle it. So he started saying stuff about Hazel's cafe, which Jenna said was to divert attention. Because he couldn't find anything bad to say about Jenna."

Now Addison was confused. "Edward didn't like Jenna calling him a bully, and he couldn't find anything bad to say about her, so he badmouthed Hazel's cafe instead?"

"Yeah. That's what Jenna said."

"That doesn't make a whole lot of sense, Jason."

"Tell me about it. I told her to let it go, Edward is who he is and no-one else around here really cares. I wanted her to forget about all that stuff and spend time with me. I don't get much time off as it is."

Addison was going to need to dig into Edward Mathieson further.

They continued working on the bedroom until all the wallpaper was stripped. Then Jason showed Addison how to sand the walls and get them ready for painting.

"You already know how to paint, right?" he asked.

Addison nodded, having never painted anything in her life. "Sure. How hard can it be?"

Jason smiled, the first one today she'd seen that had genuine mirth. "This one's the primer," he said, pointing to one of the cans he'd brought in from his truck. "It goes on first. Let that dry, then do your colour."

"Then what?"

"I'll be back before you get that far." He checked his watch. "I really need to get home now."

Addison nodded and walked him down to the front door. "Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. I agree you need to let Layla get settled in here. The gallery is a mess."

"We haven't been back there yet. I'm not sure how Layla will handle it."

"Maybe give it a few days," said Jason. "Bye."

Layla still wasn't back from her walk, and Olivia had gone to pick up Charlie after his grooming session, so Addison made herself a cup of tea and pulled her notebook out of the drawer. She wrote down as much as she could remember from what Jason had said, realising that he had no alibi for the time of the fire.

What if he went to confront Jenna about her leaving, and they got into an argument? Wilcox said Jenna had been murdered, but he didn't say how. It could have been an accident. A bit of pushing and shoving, someone falls onto something hard and hits their head, next thing you know they're dead. It happened. Rob had seen it enough times.

Layla said she locked the door to the gallery. So whoever went inside either broke in, or Jenna let them in. Who would she let in? Jason, definitely.

If that was what happened, if Jason accidentally killed her, would he have panicked and set the fire? Or would he have called an ambulance? Addison didn't know him well enough to answer that. He seemed like a nice guy, but you never could tell. That was something else Rob had taught her.

Jason certainly hadn't acted like a killer today, though. He'd come over when she'd asked, and helped her with the room for Layla. He'd been upset, naturally, but he hadn't seemed like he'd just committed murder and arson. Maybe she had it wrong with him. Or maybe he'd been trying to act normal and cover his tracks.

Who else was there? Ed Mathieson? It sounded like he'd become Jenna's latest plaything. Addison had witnessed her younger cousin's games back when they were teenagers, and by all accounts she'd never grown out of it. She liked to pick on people who would bite back, and Ed sounded like just the right fit.

Jenna rubbed people up the wrong way, and she never knew when to quit. It was very helpful in her career as a lawyer, but not so helpful when it came to making friends. No wonder Layla didn't know if she had any.

Just then the door opened, and Layla returned from her walk. She hung her hat on the hatstand, and ran a hand through her hair. As she came into the kitchen Addison could see she'd been crying.

"Hey, what is it?" Addison asked. She pulled out a chair at the dining table for her cousin.

"It's nothing. Just… oh, Addison, I feel so guilty."

"Why do you feel guilty? You haven't done anything wrong." Addison's stomach tightened as she thought again of Detective Wilcox zeroing in on Layla for Jenna's murder.

"I went to the gallery," said Layla, bursting into tears again.

Addison put an arm around her for a minute, then when Layla calmed a little she got up to put the kettle on.

Olivia and Charlie burst into the kitchen. "When's dinner? Oh, sorry," she added when she saw the state of Layla. "What's happened?"

"Layla went to the art gallery."

"Oh." Olivia took a seat at the table. "How bad is it?" she asked gently.

Layla shook her head. "Everything's gone. I've lost everything, and I'm devastated, and that's why I feel guilty."

"You feel guilty because you're devastated?" Olivia asked. "That doesn't make sense."

"I feel guilty because Jenna is dead, but all I seem to care about is my stuff. My paintings, my furniture, everything I've collected over the years. Everything that meant anything to me was in that place. I've lost it all, and I can't help but care about that more than I care about my sister's death. I'm a horrible person."

Olivia looked at her mother with wide eyes; she clearly had no idea what to say.

"I'm going to do a pasta bake for dinner," Addison said to Olivia. "Why don't you put the water on for the pasta, and chop up some mushrooms and green veg for me."

Olivia nodded, and got to work. Addison took her seat in front of Layla, putting a hot cup of tea down in front of her sobbing cousin.

"You're not a horrible person," Addison said gently. "It's natural for you to feel this way. You care about Jenna's death, I know you do. She wasn't the nicest person in the world, but she was your sister and I know you loved her. I know you're grieving her loss."

"Then how come all I can think about is the gallery? It was just stuff. I shouldn't be so upset about losing stuff."

"It wasn't just stuff. It was a part of you. Your possessions form part of your identity. You lost a big part of yourself in that fire, Layla. That's why it hurts so much. That's why you're feeling the loss of the gallery so hard. It doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human."

Layla seemed to understand. She leaned forward and hugged Addison. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too."

Addison realised she was crying as well. It was hard to see her cousin – her friend – like this. But they'd get through it. Together.

They took another moment to clean themselves up, then helped Olivia with dinner. With three of them chopping and preparing, the pasta bake was in the oven in no time.

"I think a glass of wine might be in order," said Addison. She found a bottle of white in the fridge, and Olivia pulled three glasses down from a cupboard.

"How was the rest of your walk?" Addison asked Layla as she poured.

"It was okay. I got that weird feeling again, though. Like when we were in the shops."

"Like someone was following you?"

"Yes. I didn't see anyone, though."

"Were there others around when you were at the gallery?" Addison asked.

"Yes. A few of the people from the town were close by. They came over when they saw me."

Addison shrugged. "That's probably all it was. You were feeling like they were watching you."

"Yes. Maybe."

Layla turned her wineglass in her hands. "I think I'd like to make a toast," she said, raising the glass. "To Jenna. May she rest in peace."

"To Jenna," said Addison and Olivia.

"And may her killer be brought to justice," Addison added.

14

On Sunday morning Addison spent some time helping Layla make phone calls and arrangements regarding the insurance on the art gallery, and Jenna's funeral.

The fire chief had called around the night before and informed them that sadly nothing had been salvaged from the gallery. It was completely destroyed in the fire. Layla asked if he knew how it had started, but he'd just mumbled something about it being an ongoing investigation.

One of Jenna's work colleagues had managed to reach Layla. He'd apologised for the loss, saying all the things you said to someone whose family member had suddenly passed away. He assured Layla that everyone in the firm was feeling the loss with her, and that Jenna had been a valued colleague.

"I find that hard to believe," Layla said when she'd ended the call.

"Maybe he just meant she was valued for all the hard work she did," offered Addison, who'd been listening in on the call. "However much she alienated people, you can't say she wasn't very good at her job."

"She was very good at her job because she alienated people," said Layla with a smile.

"True. Is there anyone else you want to call?"

Layla shook her head. "I think I'm done with talking to people for today. What are you going to do now?"

It was still only mid-morning. "Olivia and I are going to get cracking on your new room."

"Can I help?"

"Of course you can, if you feel like it. I was going to ask if you wanted to choose the colour. Jason brought a few different ones because I told him I want to paint each room a different colour. I think I want to make this house as bright and welcoming as possible."

"Good idea," said Layla.

They all got to work in the room, and the sanding and undercoat were done by lunchtime. Layla chose a powder-blue colour, of which Addison approved.

"That was one of my favourites when Jason showed them to me," she said. "Good choice. We can make a start on that tomorrow. Let's get some lunch."

Addison and Layla made sandwiches while Olivia helped herself to the chicken pasta bake left over from the night before.

"Are you going to heat that up?" asked Addison, watching her daughter spoon cold pasta into her mouth straight from the casserole dish.

"Tastes better cold," Olivia replied.

"You had no complaints last night," said Addison, mildly offended. Her pasta bake was always one of her kids' favourite meals.

"No, I'm not complaining. It was awesome as always last night. But it tastes even better cold. Here, you try." Olivia thrust a spoonful in Addison's direction.

Addison had a taste, and couldn't believe it. "You're right. It does taste better cold. How'd you figure that out?"

"I didn't. Justin did. He came home late one night and couldn't be bothered to reheat the leftovers, so he just ate it cold. We've been doing that ever since."

Addison smiled at the mention of her son. She must call him tonight, see how he and Emily were doing.

After lunch Layla went for a lie down, so Addison and Olivia took Charlie for a walk. He got terribly excited at the sight of his lead, and Olivia had to fight to get it on him.

"Settle down, boy," she said, which made absolutely no difference. Then she stood straight and said "sit!" firmly, and Charlie immediately stopped wriggling.

"Wow," said Addison. "He's been trained."

"Yeah. We've been practicing, but he already knew sit, and come. He's not so good at fetch. He'll go get the ball every time, but only gives it back when he feels like it. We're still working on that one."

They walked along the beach after checking the signs to make sure dogs were allowed. There were a lot of people in the water today, being a Sunday in the middle of summer. It was nearing the end of the school holiday period, though, and Addison assumed the crowds would drop soon.

This was the first time since arriving in Getaway Bay that Addison had been for a walk along the beach. There had been so much else going on, she hadn't had the chance. But walking in the sand with her daughter and an over-excited dog was exactly what she needed right now. It was so calming, even with all the tourists around. This was going to be a great place to live. Murderer notwithstanding.

"That's going to be a big house," said Olivia, pointing to a building in progress towards the southern end of the beach.

"It sure is," Addison agreed as they neared. "It looks more like apartments. It's very close to the beach." There were quite a few serviced apartment buildings at this end of the beach. Getaway Bay was a summer tourist hotspot, and families liked to rent apartments and come for weeks at a time. But none of them were built as close to the beach as this new building.

"I wouldn't have thought council would approve a building that close to the sand," said Addison as they reached the construction site. "It should have been much further back."

She peered through the fence at the scaffolding surrounding the large frame. The building was going to be four storeys high, at least. It was still in its early stages, though.

Olivia and Charlie turned and started walking back towards their end of the beach, and Addison hurried to catch up with them. "Shall we go to Hazel's for a coffee?" Addison asked.

"What about Charlie?"

"He'll be okay. He's on the lead. We'll sit outside. I want to explore more of the town. We've hardly had a chance to look around yet."

Olivia agreed, and they made their way back up the beach and into town. It was a decent distance, and by the time they'd walked up and down the main street, checking out all the shops, they were ready for a sit down.

Olivia and Charlie plonked themselves at a table out the front, while Addison went in and ordered.

"Hi Hazel," said Addison when she spotted the owner behind the counter. The cafe wasn't too busy, the lunch rush over for the day.

"Oh, Addison! Hello. How are you? How's Layla? The poor thing."

"She's holding up okay," said Addison. "Thanks for asking. We're just taking things one day at a time."

Hazel wiped her hands on her apron. "What can I get you?"

"Two iced coffees, thanks. We'll have them outside, if that's okay." Addison pointed to where Olivia and Charlie were waiting.

Hazel followed Addison's finger and her eyes lit up when she saw the dog. "You found Charlie!"

"Yes. He seems to have attached himself to us."

"He's such a dear little thing. Jerry used to bring him down from time to time. I'll bring you a bowl of water for him."

"That would be great. We've just had a big walk along the beach, and then all the way into town. He's exhausted."

Hazel laughed. "It's probably the most exercise he's had in his life. Jerry wasn't big on walks."

Hazel set to work making the iced coffees. Addison was still curious about the development on the beach, and thought Hazel might know something about it.

"Do you know what they're building at the other end of the beach?"

Hazel's face dropped at the mention of the construction site. "Ugh. Don't get me started. That's Ed's life's work, that building."

"Ed Mathieson? The baker?"

"The one and only. He's poured every penny he owns into that building. It's his retirement plan, apparently."

"Is he going to live there?" Addison asked.

"He plans to live in the penthouse and rent the rest out as holiday lets. It's a good plan. He'll manage it himself until he gets too old, then he'll just hire a manager. Or so he keeps telling me. Over and over again. He's like a broken record, that man."

Addison watched as Hazel topped the iced coffees with whipped cream. She hadn't realised how thirsty she was. They looked delicious.

"Would you like something to eat with these?" Hazel asked, pushing the drinks across the counter.

Addison remembered tasting Hazel's scones the other day. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She checked the display cabinet, finding it quite empty. She remembered Hazel mentioning on Friday night that she hadn't found a baker yet.

There was a glass jar of cookies on the counter. Addison decided to play it safe. "We'll have two of those please. Chocolate chip."

"Lovely," said Hazel. "I made these myself."

15

"So, how goes your meddling in the murder case?" said Olivia when Addison returned to the table with the iced coffees and cookies.

"I'm not meddling. I'm simply asking a few questions. Like that detective should be doing."

"How do you know he's not?"

Addison hadn't thought of that. "Good point."

"He hasn't been back to see Layla since yesterday morning. That might be a good sign," Olivia continued, obviously buoyed by stumping her mother.

"Yes, all right. But it can't hurt for me to look into things on the side, can it? I might find out something he can't."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something someone might be willing to tell me but not a police officer. What's with all the negativity?" Addison bit into her cookie and nearly broke a tooth. "Ouch!" She quickly looked through the window to see if Hazel had noticed. Fortunately, she was busy serving a customer.

"That bad?" asked Olivia, picking up her cookie and tapping it on her plate. "Oh. Right. I think I'll pass."

"The poor woman needs to find a baker, fast. Layla was right about one thing, though. She makes good coffee. And iced coffee."

"You could bake for her. In amongst all the other jobs you're taking on." Olivia smirked behind her iced coffee.

"I could," said Addison, calling her bluff.

"I was joking, Mum."

"I know you were. Let's just stick with the murder case for now, shall we? Answer my question. Why all the negativity? I thought you'd agreed to help."

"I am helping. I'm playing Devil's Advocate."

"Oh, right. I missed that."

Hazel appeared at the table with a plastic container full of water. "Sorry, Charlie," she said, leaning over to put the water on the ground and pat the dog. "I nearly forgot you. Everything okay out here?" she asked the women.

"Yes, great," said Addison, praying Hazel wouldn't notice the uneaten biscuits. She did.

"They're pretty bad, aren't they?" she said with a sigh. "I'm doing everything I can to find another baker."

"I'm sure you'll find one soon," said Addison in her best reassuring voice.

Hazel smiled and followed another customer back through the door.

"So give me your list of suspects," said Olivia once Hazel was out of earshot.

Addison wished she had her notebook with her. She tried to remember everything she'd written and relayed it to Olivia. Unfortunately, her list of suspects was very short. Jason, who she hoped didn't do it because he was so sweet, and Ed Mathieson, who she hadn't even met yet.

They discussed the possibilities of each suspect, and Addison realised she needed to find out more about Ed.

"What could we be missing?" asked Olivia.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, who else could have done it? Maybe it wasn't someone from around here. Maybe it was a random stranger who broke in and killed Jenna."

"Then why would they burn the place down?"

"Why would anyone? To destroy evidence."

Addison contemplated the random stranger theory while she nibbled on the edge of her cookie. If you took really small bites, they weren't that bad.

Because of the fire it was impossible to know whether the killer had broken in or been invited in. Perhaps someone broke into the gallery with the intention of stealing some of the art, Jenna had surprised them, and they'd killed her. Then instead of stealing anything they'd lit the fire to destroy evidence. That could have happened. She ran the theory by Olivia.

"It's not impossible," said Olivia. "But whoever it was, the fact that they lit a fire tells me the murder was unintentional."

"How do you figure?"

"Because lighting a fire, which draws everyone's attention almost immediately, is risky. I reckon you'd only do it if you panicked, and you figured you needed to hide the evidence. If whoever did this planned it, then they would have come up with a less risky way to hide evidence."

"Or been careful enough to not leave any evidence that needed hiding," said Addison. "This is good. You're going to make an excellent forensic scientist."

"You're just saying that because I'm helping you."

"No, I'm not," said Addison. "You're very clever, and I'm very proud of you. Your dad would have been too."

Olivia picked up her cookie as a diversion from what she often called the 'sappy moment', and after a failed attempt at eating it herself she fed it to Charlie. At least his teeth were up to the challenge.

"Okay. So let's assume the murder wasn't planned," said Olivia. "Who else could it have been, besides Jason and Ed?"

"We're at a bit of a disadvantage not knowing many people around here yet," said Addison. "And I'd hoped to get to know the locals in a more friendly way than 'Hey, do you know who killed my cousin?'"

"It's not a great opening line," Olivia agreed. "What about a non-local? Getting back to the random stranger or thief idea. Or maybe it wasn't a stranger. What about someone Jenna knew from Sydney?"

"That's something we hadn't considered."

Charlie stood and stretched himself out, then reached up with his paws onto Olivia's lap.

"You ready to go, mate?" Olivia asked the dog. He answered by jumping up and down and turning in circles.

"I think that's a yes," said Addison with a laugh. She stuck her head in the door and waved goodbye to Hazel, and they set off for home.

"Do you know anyone from Jenna's life in Sydney?" Olivia asked as they walked.

"No. I barely knew Jenna."

"But she was your cousin. We lived in Sydney my whole life up until now. How come I'd never met her?"

"It's complicated," said Addison, and gave her daughter a look that said she wasn't going to discuss it. And she wasn't – Olivia didn't need to hear about Jenna's attempt to steal Rob from Addison. It was a long time ago, and it wasn't going to help find her killer. But it did mean Addison and her family had never socialised with Jenna, and therefore she had no idea of anyone back in Sydney who might travel to Getaway Bay and kill her.

"Well we can't ask Layla," said Olivia. "Maybe we should be leaving all this to the police."

Addison mulled it all over as they walked the rest of the way home. By the time they reached the beach house she was exhausted. Charlie looked tired, too. She leaned down to give him a pat when he suddenly strained at the lead.

"What's up, boy?" said Olivia. Charlie started yelping, and soon progressed to a full-on bark.

He was barking in the direction of the side of the beach house. The shrubs and weeds were overgrown down that side between the fence and the house, but Addison could just make out a figure standing in amongst all the bushes. He'd been trying to peer in the side window, but had been spooked by Charlie. He was now staring straight at them.

Addison instinctively put herself between the stranger and her daughter. Then she realised it was no stranger. She took Charlie's lead from Olivia.

"Go in the house and call the police," she said, not breaking eye contact with the man. "Tell Layla to stay inside."

"Who is it?" Olivia asked.

"It's Layla's ex-husband."

"The one who's supposed to be in jail? The violent drunken maniac you told me about?"

"That's the one. Go call the police. NOW!"

16

By the time Wilcox and Short arrived, Rick Ramirez was long gone. Layla sat at the kitchen table with them while Addison hung around in the kitchen. Olivia had taken Charlie up to her room.

Addison was desperate for a glass of wine to calm her nerves, but didn't want to start drinking in front of the cops. Even though she rarely had more than one or two glasses, it just didn't feel right.

"You're sure it was him?" Wilcox asked Layla.

"I don't know," she replied. "I didn't see him. Addison did."

"I'm sure it was him," said Addison. "I know I've only met him face-to-face twice, but I've seen enough pictures. I remember his face clearly from the trial. It was definitely him."

"And he was at the side of the house, trying to get a look in through the window?" asked Wilcox.

"That's right."

"He's supposed to be in jail," said Layla. "What's he even doing here?"

"We checked with Brisbane Correctional Centre on the way over here," said Short. "He was released on parole two weeks ago."

"Why wasn't Layla told?" asked Addison. Didn't they have some kind of system for informing the victims when convicted criminals were released?

"I can't answer that, I'm afraid," said Wilcox.

"What can you do?" asked Addison, fearing the answer.

"Not a lot. As far as we know he hasn't done anything wrong. He hasn't harmed anyone, made threats, or acted in a threatening manner."

"Doesn't peering in through the side window constitute a threatening manner?" said Addison. She gripped the edge of the kitchen bench as hard as she could in an effort to keep calm. Arguing with Wilcox wasn't going to do Layla any good right now. "Surely if he weren't up to no good, he'd have knocked on the front door like a normal person. Can't you get him for trespassing, at least?"

Wilcox sighed. "We can talk to him. If we can locate him." He turned to Layla. "Do you have any idea where he might be staying in town?"

Layla shook her head. "I haven't seen or spoken to him in five years, Detective. Not since he put me in the hospital. Our divorce was arranged by lawyers. Jenna made sure I never had to see or speak to that man again."

Wilcox shifted in his chair. "Your sister Jenna was your divorce lawyer?"

"Yes."

Addison saw the connection at the same time as Wilcox. If Jenna had stood between Rick and Layla in the past, maybe this time he got her out of the way. Rick had just put himself in the frame for murder.

"What was the relationship like between your ex-husband and your sister?" Wilcox asked Layla.

Layla's eyes sought out Addison, pleading for help. Pleading to not have to go through this story again. Addison took charge. She came and sat at the table next to her cousin, across from Wilcox and Short.

"Rick was a violent drunk, to put it bluntly," Addison began. "He put Layla in the hospital more than once, and the last time was the last straw. Jenna wasn't one to step in uninvited, but once Layla gave her the go-ahead, she went after Rick with everything she had. By the time Jenna was finished they were divorced and Rick was behind bars for aggravated assault, among other things."

"He'd also committed some armed robberies, we found out," said Layla. "He was sentenced to seven years. I didn't think he'd get out this early."

Wilcox rubbed a hand over his face. "So Jenna wouldn't have been his favourite person, then."

"No," said Layla. "He'd never liked her, but after all that, I can't imagine how much he must have hated her." Layla's eyes widened as she realised what Wilcox was getting at. "Do you think he killed her?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"It's possible," said Short. Wilcox shot her a look.

"Then it's my fault Jenna is dead." Layla's eyes dropped to her lap, and Addison's heart broke.

"You're not responsible for Rick's actions, Layla," said Addison. "You never have been. He's the one who hurt you. He's the one with the problem. Leaving him was the best thing you ever did. Helping you leave him was the best thing Jenna ever did." Addison put her arm around her cousin and pulled her in close. "We'll figure this out," she said. "If Rick did this to Jenna, the police will catch him and put him away forever. He'll pay."

Addison looked straight into Wilcox's eyes when she said those last two words. Wilcox nodded once, acknowledgement of the pain Rick Ramirez had caused Layla, and a silent promise to hold him to account. Maybe the detective wasn't so bad after all.

"I need be alone right now," said Layla, pulling herself from Addison's embrace and standing. "Do you have any more questions for me?"

"No, we have enough to go on," said Wilcox.

Layla nodded and headed for the stairs, leaving Addison alone with Wilcox and Short.

"Rick Ramirez is a nasty piece of work," said Addison once she'd heard Layla's bedroom door close. "He's the reason I didn't visit Layla more often when they were together. It makes total sense he'd be behind Jenna's death."

"You think he was that angry with Jenna?"

"She came between him and Layla. And he was an angry man in general. He had five years in prison to think about it." Another thought occurred to Addison. "Plus burning down Layla's gallery is an added bonus."

"How so?" asked Short.

"It's made Layla vulnerable. You saw her, she's a mess. Rick probably thinks he can get her all upset and displaced, and then come in like the big hero and take care of her. He'll probably promise he's changed, say all those years gave him time to think, now he'll be the husband she wants him to be, etcetera. And with Jenna out of the way, there's no-one to talk any sense into her." The more Addison thought about it, the more she convinced herself Rick must have killed Jenna and burnt down the gallery. Well, he might have got rid of Jenna, but he didn't count on Addison.

"It's an interesting theory," said Wilcox. "We'll look into it. In the meantime, please call us immediately if you see or hear from him at all." Wilcox handed her his card as he and Short stood to leave.

"Who else have you been looking into?" Addison asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Wilcox turned back to face her.

"Do you have any other suspects? We haven't heard anything from you about the investigation, so I was just wondering where you were up to."

Wilcox shot off the standard line. "We are following a number of lines of enquiry."

"Jason Sadler? Edward Mathieson? Are they involved in any of your lines of enquiry?"

Wilcox took a deep breath and sighed. "Mrs Lake, have you been conducting your own investigations into this case?"

Addison shrugged. "Layla's my cousin. She's family. I'm entitled to ask a few questions here and there."

Wilcox sighed again, making Addison feel like a naughty schoolgirl. "You're Rob Lake's widow, aren't you?" he asked, catching Addison completely off-guard.

"I… I am, yes. Did you know my husband?"

Wilcox shook his head. "No. But I would have liked to. I worked in a Sydney local area command for ten years before I moved up here. He was well-known, even back then. Had a reputation as a first-class homicide detective."

Addison nodded solemnly. She didn't know what to say.

"Still," Wilcox went on, "that doesn't give you the right to interfere in my investigation. I doubt your husband would have approved."

Addison smiled. "You sound like my daughter."

"She's a wise young lady." Wilcox turned for the door and followed his partner, who was already out on the verandah. He had one last speech for Addison. "Please, don't get involved. Call me if Ramirez turns up, or if you have anything else to tell us."

Addison lowered herself onto the steps and watched the police car drive away. Wilcox had known of Rob. There was a turn up she hadn't expected. It was nice he'd heard such positive things about her husband. But of course he would, Rob was an excellent detective. And Wilcox was right, Rob would have told her to stay out of the investigation. Maybe Wilcox wasn't as bad as she'd first thought. Maybe she should concentrate on looking after Layla and let him do his job.

17

Addison woke early on Monday morning after a fitful night's sleep. She lay in bed for a while, watching the sun stream through the still un-curtained window, thinking about all that had happened in her short time so far in Getaway Bay. It really had been a whirlwind introduction to the small town.

She tried to push thoughts of Jenna's murder and the fire to the back of her mind. Wilcox had been right yesterday. She really should leave it to him. She should be concentrating on getting the beach house ready to open as a bed and breakfast, and of course spending time with Olivia. She had less than two weeks before her daughter would head off to campus for the first time.

Addison's thoughts turned to breakfast, and what she would be doing if the bed and breakfast was already up and running. She wanted to offer a range of food options for her guests, not just breakfast. She'd planned to dig up all her old recipes and start baking again, as well as offer a couple of dinner choices for guests as an extra service.

Cooking for her family was one thing Addison had loved, but had lost all interest in after Rob died. Even though they had those final eight weeks together after his diagnosis, it still seemed like her life had been ripped away so quickly two years ago. Rob's death had crippled Addison, and it was all she could do to hold it together for Justin and Olivia.

But now, here in Getaway Bay, she was starting to see the possibilities of the future. She could imagine cooking for people again, and the idea filled her with joy. If she was honest with herself it was the real reason she wanted to run the beach house as a bed and breakfast. Cooking she was looking forward to – changing beds and cleaning bathrooms, however, she was not.

Addison pulled herself out of her reflection and got out of bed. She was showered and dressed and down in the kitchen before anyone else was up. Even Charlie had still been curled up at the foot of Olivia's bed when Addison had peeked into her daughter's room.

She didn't want to wake the others so early, so she decided to start practicing in the kitchen. She pulled puff pastry sheets out of the freezer then set about making the custard for Portuguese custard tarts. They were one of Olivia's favourite treats.

Addison was filling custard into pastry cases when Olivia appeared bleary eyed in the kitchen. She went straight to the coffee machine, Charlie trotting after her.

"Good morning, sweetheart," said Addison. She opened the back door for Charlie, and he dutifully went out to go about his business. She'd have to talk to Jason about putting a dog door in, she thought, then remembered that keeping Charlie wasn't a decision they'd made yet. The little dog was quickly worming his way into their lives and her heart.

"What are you making?" said Olivia once her hands were wrapped around a steaming coffee mug. Olivia had to have her coffee first thing, whereas Addison was more of a mid-morning coffee fan.

"Portuguese custard tarts," Addison replied. "I put a squeeze of lime in the custard, thought I'd see how that goes." They'd found lemon and lime trees in the backyard as well as the mango tree, and Addison had made it her mission to figure out interesting ways to use the citrus.

"Mmm, great. When will they be ready?" asked Olivia, her mouth cracking into an evil little grin.

"At morning tea time. You're not having tarts for breakfast."

The grin faded, and Olivia started searching through the cupboards for food. She eventually settled on cereal.

"So what did the cops have to say yesterday?" Olivia asked. They hadn't discussed Wilcox and Short's visit over dinner last night, or Rick's appearance. Layla had wanted to put it all out of her mind.

"They're going to see if they can find Rick," said Addison. She also told Olivia how she'd decided to stay out of the investigation for now. "Wilcox might not be as incompetent as I first thought," she admitted. "I should leave it to them, now they seem to be laying off Layla."

"Good idea," said Olivia through a mouthful of cereal. "So what's on the agenda for today, then?"

"We're going to finish painting Layla's new room. And I'm going to drive her to the nursing home, too. She needs to spend time with her dad."

Layla's car had been lost in the fire along with everything else. It had been parked in the garage around the back of the gallery. The insurance company were due at the gallery today to assess the damage. Addison had avoided seeing it for herself, but going on what other people had said there was nothing left. She hoped they'd pay Layla out quickly so she could get on with rebuilding her life.

The nursing home was close enough that Layla could walk, of course, but Addison wasn't going to let her cousin out of her sight while Rick Ramirez was on the prowl. Come to think of it, she wasn't that keen on the idea of leaving Olivia here on her own.

"I might give Jason a call, see if he can come over for the day and help us," she said.

Olivia shrugged. "Whatever. I'm going to take Charlie for a walk." She put her empty cereal bowl in the dishwasher, grabbed the dog's lead, and went out the back door.

Addison popped the tarts in the oven just as Layla entered the kitchen.

"Good morning," said Addison. "How did you sleep?"

Layla just smiled and shook her head. Addison knew how she felt.

"Would you like to go and visit your dad later today?"

"Yes, I suppose I should." Layla made herself a coffee and took a seat at the bench while Addison cleaned up her cooking mess. "Oh, Addison. What is he doing here? And why now? It can't just be a coincidence that he turns up at the same time as Jenna is murdered, can it?"

"It is unlikely," Addison admitted. "But he just got released from prison. We know how he feels about you, Layla. It does stand to reason he'd come here and try to see you."

Layla sipped her coffee. "So you think he came to the gallery on Friday night and found Jenna there instead of me? And he decided to get rid of her?" Addison noticed her cousin's hands were shaking.

"Let's let the police worry about that for now." Addison got a carton of eggs out of the fridge. "I'm going to make you an omelette. You need your strength. Just let me call Jason first."

Addison left Layla in the kitchen while she made the call from the great room. Jason agreed to come over in a couple of hours. She promised him a Portuguese custard tart would be waiting with his name on it.

Olivia and Charlie returned from their walk, and after Layla had managed to eat half an omelette the three of them got to work with the painting. They had the first coat almost finished by the time Jason arrived.

"This is looking great," said Jason, inspecting their work. "You're all naturals. We'll have this room finished in no time."

He seemed in brighter spirits today. Addison thanked him for coming, and then after a quick morning tea she and Layla left for Getaway Care nursing home.

18

When they entered Dennis's room, they found him sitting up in bed listening to Angie. She was reading to him from the Harry Potter book, and his eyes were bright. There was even the hint of a smile. Addison was pleased to see him looking so well, but Layla wasn't happy at all.

"How dare you?" she said to Angie, snatching the book from her hands.

"Oh, my. Oh, Layla, I'm so sorry. I was just—"

"I'm the one who reads to him, not you!" Layla all but pushed Angie out of the way as she put a protective arm around her father.

"I'm so sorry," said Angie again, and Addison noticed the nurse's eyes well up as she quickly left the room.

Addison stood near the foot of Dennis's bed and watched as Layla fussed around him. She adjusted his pillows and bedclothes, all the while telling him everything was going to be okay. Or telling herself that.

When she finally settled down, Addison decided she should say something.

"You might have been a little hard on Angie just then."

"She overstepped," said Layla sharply.

"Maybe, but I think her intentions were good. And Uncle Dennis didn't seem to mind."

Layla looked at her father and burst into tears. "You're right. I shouldn't have got upset with her like that. I just don't know what to do anymore, Addison."

"It's okay." Addison guided Layla into the chair beside Dennis's bed. Dennis had drifted off to sleep. "You've been through a lot, hun. It's completely understandable. We're just taking one day at a time, remember? One day at a time. You don't need to worry about anything except spending time with your dad."

Layla nodded and pulled a tissue out of the box on Dennis's bedside table. She composed herself, then sighed. "I should probably go and apologise to Angie," she said. "She's been so good to Dad."

"I'll do it," said Addison. "She'll understand, I'm sure. You stay here. Sit with him for a while."

"Okay. Thanks, Addison."

Addison gave her cousin a reassuring smile, then went off in search of Angie.

She found the kindly nurse in tears in the break room. "Are you okay?" Addison asked.

"I'm really sorry," Angie said, wiping her eyes. "Layla was right. I shouldn't have been reading to him. That's a family thing."

"It's all right," said Addison, taking a seat on the couch opposite Angie. "Layla overreacted. She's been through a lot these last few days, as you know."

Angie nodded and blew her nose.

"I told her I'd come and find you to apologise on her behalf. She's sorry she got so upset with you."

"I understand. She's very protective of her father, which is as it should be. I was the same when my mother was in here."

"Your mother was a resident here at Getaway Care?" Addison asked.

"Yes. It was a while ago now. Before I worked here. The staff back then were very caring, too. It helped a lot to see that my mother was being treated so well. Like family. That's what made me want to work here. It's why I treat all the patients as if they were my own family."

"Because you know what it's like to be on the other side," Addison said.

"Yes. I know what it feels like to leave your loved one in the hands of strangers. But I promise I won't read to Dennis anymore. That's Layla's thing to do with him, and I respect that."

"Thank you," said Addison. "And thank you also for treating him so well. I know Layla really appreciates it. In spite of her outburst just now."

Angie nodded, her tears gone now. "Is she coping okay? Layla? I mean, it's hard enough having a loved one in here and so close to the end. I can't imagine how much her sister's death is weighing on her. And the loss of her gallery. The poor thing."

"We're taking things one day at a time," said Addison. "It's hard, of course. But she's strong. She'll get through it." Addison wondered whether she should warn the nursing home staff about Rick. Would he come here looking for Layla? She decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and Angie seemed like the kind of person who would be discreet about the situation.

"There is something you should probably, know," Addison began. By the time she'd finished explaining about Rick's release from prison and his subsequent visit to the beach house, Angie was aghast and concerned for Layla's welfare all over again.

"Like I said, the police are aware of the situation, obviously, and are conducting their investigations. But I just thought you should know in case he turns up here. He is most definitely not welcome."

"Got it," said Angie. "I'll let the rest of the staff know. Do you think he might be responsible for Jenna's murder?"

"The police are looking into that," said Addison. She didn't want to go into any more detail. It was Layla's business, after all.

Angie excused herself and went back to work, and Addison found her way back to Dennis's room. She gave Layla a thumb's up to say everything was okay, and then sat quietly in the corner while Layla continued reading to her father.

They left when a different nurse brought Dennis's lunch in.

"I don't know why they bother," said Layla as they walked to the car. "He hasn't eaten anything for days."

"There was a tub of custard on the tray," said Addison. "Maybe that'll be easy enough for him to swallow."

"Maybe."

"Shall we go to Hazel's for lunch?" Addison suggested.

Layla nodded. Addison sent a quick text off to Olivia to let her know what they were doing, and check that Jason was still there. All was well back at the beach house, so Addison drove them the short distance and parked in front of Hazel's cafe.

There were three staff helping Hazel with the lunchtime rush, which was just as well. Addison had never seen the place so busy.

"Maybe she finally got a new baker," Addison whispered as they approached the counter, but changed her mind when she saw the empty display cabinet.

"Hazel's is always busy for lunch," said Layla. "She has no problem with savoury food. It's just the sweets she can't seem to get right."

"Oh. Well that's something then."

"Hi girls," said Hazel, wiping her hands on her apron. "I gave up," she added when she saw Addison staring at the empty cabinet. "Thought I should concentrate on my strengths for now."

"Good for you," said Layla. "Have you got room for us for lunch?"

"We're just leaving," came a voice from behind them. "You can have our table."

Addison swung around to find Josie Porter, the dog groomer, finishing off the last chips on her plate. Or was it Juliet? Whichever twin she was, there was an older woman with her who had to be their mother.

"Hi… Josie?" said Addison.

"Good guess," Josie answered.

Addison smiled. "You did an excellent job on Charlie, thanks for that."

"You're most welcome. How's he doing?"

"He's great, actually. Follows my daughter around everywhere she goes. I don't have the heart to separate them."

"So you'll keep him?" asked the older woman. "I'm Felicia, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. Yes, I think Charlie might be staying with us. My daughter's had enough loss. I can't send him away."

Josie piled her and her mother's empty plates together and placed them on the counter for Hazel. "There you go," she said. "Take a seat." She placed a hand on Layla's arm. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said sincerely.

"Thanks, Josie. I appreciate it."

"Is there anything we can do to help?"

Layla shook her head and lowered herself into the booth Josie and Felicia had vacated. "No, thank you. Addison is taking care of me."

Josie gave Layla's arm one last squeeze, and then she and her mother left.

"Everyone's been so nice," said Layla. "I don't know how to handle it."

"I think you handled it just fine," said Addison, picking up a menu but not opening it yet. "There are no rules for something like this, Layla. You just have to look after yourself. Don't worry about other people. They don't know what to say or how to handle things any more than you do."

"No, I suppose not." Layla opened her own menu. "I'm starving."

Addison smiled. It was the first time Layla had been interested in food since the fire. It was a step in the right direction.

19

On the drive home from the cafe, an idea entered Addison's head. What if she were to offer to bake for Hazel? She'd joked about it with Olivia the other day, but she had to admit she'd been half serious. She could do it from her own kitchen, which would be commercial enough once the bed and breakfast was up and running. And it wouldn't be that much extra work. If she was baking for her guests, surely it wouldn't be too much trouble to do extra for Hazel's cafe?

"What are you thinking about?" asked Layla as they pulled into the beach house driveway.

"Oh, nothing," said Addison. She didn't want voice her idea just yet. She knew Olivia would go nuts at her trying to take on even more work, and she wasn't ready for that argument. "Come on. Let's go see how much work these young, fit people have managed to get done."

Olivia and Jason had done quite a lot, actually. Addison was very pleased with their efforts. The bed and breakfast would be ship-shape in no time.

They all worked together for a couple more hours, until Layla's new room was ready to move into. Jason and Olivia moved a couple of pieces of furniture in for her, then they all left her to it.

"Who wants coffee?" asked Addison once the three of them were down in the kitchen.

"Yes please," said Olivia.

"Any chance you can do an iced coffee?" asked Jason. He fished a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his forehead.

Addison shrugged. There was cream in the fridge, and it wouldn't take much to whip it. "I don't see why not."

"That sounds good," said Olivia. "Make mine an iced coffee too, please."

"Three iced coffees, coming right up." Addison set about making the drinks while Jason and Olivia laughed about some joke or other they'd seen on the Internet. Addison was pleased to see Olivia had gotten over her initial shyness around Jason. It was also good to see Jason smile.

The iced coffees turned out delicious, and they were polished off quickly. Charlie, who'd been patiently sitting at Olivia's feet, stretched up and pawed gently at her legs.

"Okay, boy," said Olivia, scratching the top of his head. "It's time for your walk. Let's go." Charlie ran around in excited circles while Olivia found his lead.

When they were gone, Addison asked Jason to join her in the back garden. "I have some ideas for out here I want to run by you," she said.

The back garden currently consisted of the dilapidated shed, the mango and citrus trees, and a large amount of overgrown grass. It was a big space, but it needed a lot of work.

"What are your thoughts?" asked Jason as they strolled.

Addison explained her idea of creating a large seating area centred around an outdoor pizza oven. "I think it would be lovely to sit out here of an evening and enjoy a glass of wine while we cook pizzas. What do you think?"

"Sounds great to me. You want me to build it?"

"If you think you could, yes. That would be lovely. After we finish the inside of the house, though."

"Of course. I'll start working on some plans." Jason walked around the area, as much as he could with the overgrown grass. Addison could see he was already thinking of where the pizza oven could go. She let him pace things out and took a seat in the old cane lounge the previous owner had left behind on the back verandah. When Jason was finished he came and sat in the other chair.

"I think that'll work out great," he said. "I'll work on a price for you once I've had a look at the equipment. I'm sure they have kits for pizza ovens at the hardware store."

"Excellent," said Addison. She was so pleased the beach house was coming together. It was going to be a wonderful place to gather with new friends. Speaking of new friends, she counted Jason as one of them. She was a little ashamed she'd thought of him as a suspect in Jenna's murder.

"How are you doing, Jason? I mean, after Jenna…"

Jason nodded and sank back in the chair. "I'm okay. I mean, I'm angry and hurt, and I'm upset that I didn't get the chance to change her mind about leaving. And I'm angry that someone took that chance away from me. If only she'd come to the door…"

"Come to the door when?" asked Addison, her detective hat back on all of a sudden.

Jason's face sank. His gaze dropped to his lap and he gripped the arms of the chair.

"Did you go to see Jenna on Friday night?" Addison asked. She held her breath as she waited for him to answer.

He nodded.

"But she didn't answer the door?"

He shook his head.

This was something he could have mentioned earlier. Addison wondered whether Wilcox knew.

"Did you tell the police?" she asked.

Another head shake.

"Jason… You can't hide something like that from the police. It makes you look guilty. You're not guilty, are you? Did you hurt Jenna? Did you set the fire?"

"No!" That brought his voice back. "I didn't touch her. I never would have hurt her."

"Then why were you there?"

"I told you before. I thought I could change her mind about leaving. I know I could have, if I'd just had the time."

"Okay," Addison held a hand out to placate him. She didn't want Layla to hear them arguing. "Tell me what happened."

Jason took a deep breath. "I went home from here on Friday afternoon and changed. Then I went to see Jenna. I called to tell her I was coming."

"You spoke to her?"

"Yes. Just briefly. I asked if it was all right if I came over, she said yes."

"What time was this?"

"I called at about six o'clock, then I went straight round. I would have been there by quarter past."

Addison wished she had her notebook. It was just inside in the kitchen, but she didn't want to break Jason's momentum. She had a feeling he was only going to tell her this once. She'd have to try and remember what he said and write it down later.

"And when you got there, she wasn't there?"

"I don't know if she was there or not. But she didn't answer the door. It was locked."

"The gallery door? Downstairs?"

"Yes. I called her mobile again, I thought maybe she didn't hear me knock. But she didn't answer the phone."

"That wasn't long before the fire." Addison's mind was racing. "So let me get this straight – we left Jenna at around half past five, maybe a little later. You called her around six, and she answered and told you to come over. So everything was still fine with her at that point. But then when you arrived, she didn't answer the door or the phone."

"That's right."

"Would she have changed her mind about seeing you in those fifteen minutes, do you think?" Addison remembered Jenna's talent for playing games, and apparently the whole town believed she was leading Jason on. But Jason shook his head emphatically.

"She'd never done anything like that to me before. You know, I considered trying to break in. I thought something might be wrong."

"Why didn't you?" Addison asked.

"It was Layla's gallery. I didn't want to do any damage. Maybe I should have. Do you think whoever killed her was inside?"

Addison didn't want to add to his hurt, but she couldn't see any other explanation.

"I do. Something must have happened to her in those fifteen minutes between the time you called, and the time you got there and she didn't answer the door. You didn't smell smoke, did you?"

"No."

"Then the fire hadn't been started. Jason, you have to go to the police. I think whoever killed Jenna was inside the gallery while you were outside knocking."

Jason's head dropped into his hands. "I should have busted down the door. I should have made more of an effort. I could have saved her." His whole body heaved up and down as he sobbed. Addison wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know what to say.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe he could have saved Jenna.

20

After calming Jason down and sending him off to tell Wilcox about his visit to the gallery on Friday, Addison pulled her notebook out of the drawer and started writing.

She couldn't believe Jason had been there right before Jenna died. Or perhaps even after she'd died, but before the killer set the gallery on fire. If he'd broken the door down like he'd wanted to, he might have been able to save her. Or he could have caught the killer and stopped them burning down the gallery.

Or he could have been killed himself.

Addison shook her head of those thoughts. It wasn't going to help Jenna now. Or Layla, for that matter. She decided not to tell Layla about Jason's revelation. At least not just yet. She was having a hard enough time coming to terms with everything as it was.

Another thought rattled around in her head. Was Jason telling the truth? Did he really go to see Jenna with the intention of trying to change her mind, and then just leave when she didn't answer? Why wasn't he more persistent?

What if Jenna really did let him in, and he was the one who killed her and lit the fire to cover his tracks? But if that was the case, why would he have told Addison that he was there at all?

Because of the phone call. He'd called Jenna right before she died. He'd need to explain that to the police. They could track where your phone was these days. She'd seen that on some police show or other. They were able to say such-and-such suspect was in this location at this time, just because they had their phone turned on.

Wilcox would have checked Jenna's phone records by now. So he would know that Jason had called Jenna from outside the gallery right before the murder. Telling Addison what he'd just told her, about Jenna not answering, was one explanation for it.

The other explanation was that Jason was the killer.

Addison wrote all her suspicions frantically into her notebook. By the time she'd finished, she didn't believe it. Jason was a good guy. Addison had been married to a detective. She knew how to read people. Jason Sadler was not a killer.

Rick Ramirez, on the other hand, definitely had murder in him. Addison hoped Wilcox had at least been able to find Rick and keep him away from Layla.

Addison was just putting the notebook back in the drawer when Layla came into the kitchen.

"Hi," said Addison. "All settled in?"

"As much as I can be." Layla took a seat at the kitchen bench. "Addison, I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done. Letting me stay here…"

Addison raised both hands to stop her. "Don't be silly. Of course you'll stay here, for as long as you need. We're family, Layla. That means a lot in my book. I can't imagine what it must feel like to lose everything you own."

"It's been hard to get my head around."

"Well I'm here for you. Whatever you need. I mean it."

The corner of Layla's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I don't suppose you feel like baking?"

"That's a silly question. I always feel like baking. What's your request?"

"Chocolate brownies? My mum used to make them with raspberries and white chocolate chips. Any chance you could—"

"Say no more," said Addison, already reaching for the fridge door. "I think I have just about everything I need. One batch of raspberry white chocolate chip brownies coming right up."

As Addison went about gathering the ingredients, they heard the front door followed by voices. One of them was Olivia's. Layla and Addison froze and stared at each other wide-eyed, before the other voice became recognisable as a woman's. They both breathed a sigh of relief as Olivia and an older woman came into the kitchen, Charlie trotting along behind.

"Hello," said the woman, who Addison thought must be at least seventy. She was short but not stooped, her hair grey but stylish. She moved about like a sixty-year-old, but the lines on her face gave away a few extra years.

"Mrs Jones," said Layla with a smile, jumping up from her stool and giving the visitor a warm hug. "I haven't seen you for a while."

"I've been to Brisbane visiting my sister. She can't make the trip up here anymore. I've come home today to find I have new neighbours, so I thought I'd pop in and introduce myself."

"Hi," said Addison, reaching out to grasp the woman's hand. "I'm Addison. You've obviously met my daughter, Olivia."

"She and Charlie met me just as I was about to knock. I live next-door."

Olivia surveyed the baking ingredients spread out on the kitchen counter. "Looks like you've come at the right time," she said. "What are you making, Mum?"

"Brownies, by special request. Please, Mrs Jones, have a seat. Would you like a cup of tea? Olivia, put the kettle on."

Mrs Jones hiked herself up onto one of the kitchen stools and the four women chatted while Addison prepared the brownies. Mrs Jones had no idea about the fire, so Layla filled her in.

"Oh my, you poor thing. Losing your sister and your home like that. I can't imagine. Are you okay?"

Layla nodded. "I will be. Addison is helping me."

"That's good, dear. You're cousins, you said?"

"Yes. Addison's father and my father were brothers."

"How is your father?" Mrs Jones asked.

Addison listened to Layla explain how her father's illness had progressed, and couldn't help but feel sorry for her cousin all over again. As if losing her sister and her home wasn't bad enough, shortly she was going to have to deal with the loss of her father as well. She tried to think of a way to brighten the conversation, but she was overwhelmed with the sadness of it all.

Layla, however, seemed happy to talk about her father today. From what she was saying Dennis and Mrs Jones had been quite good friends over the years. Mrs Jones promised to visit him in the next couple of days.

When the brownie slab had cooled enough to remove from the tin, Addison sliced one end off and cut it into four pieces. She handed them out then made a fresh pot of tea.

"Oh, my dear, this is delicious!" said Mrs Jones, a chocolate crumb hanging precariously from the corner of her mouth. "Who do you bake for?"

"Just for us at the moment," said Addison. "But I hope to turn this place into a bed and breakfast, and I'll bake for the guests."

"Not good enough," said Mrs Jones. "These little beauties shouldn't be so restricted. You know Hazel in town is looking for a baker? For her cafe?" Mrs Jones turned to Layla. "Or did she find someone while I was away?"

"No, her scones are as rock-hard as ever," said Layla.

"Well that's it then! You absolutely must be Hazel's new baker," said Mrs Jones. The crumbs fell from her mouth. "I insist."

Addison wasn't sure what authority Mrs Jones had to insist on such a thing, but she was such a lovely lady Addison found it hard to say no to her.

"I have to admit the thought had crossed my mind," said Addison.

Olivia shook her head. "Mum! You can't take on another job. You haven't even got this one up and running yet."

"No, I know, you're right," said Addison. "That's why I didn't give the thought much attention." She turned to Mrs Jones. "Thank you so much for your kind suggestion, but there really wouldn't be any time for me to bake for Hazel. I'm very keen on the bed and breakfast idea."

"Oh well," said Mrs Jones. "You can't blame a girl for trying." She had a good look around the kitchen then. "You seem to be settling in nicely. I'm so glad you've moved in. I was getting concerned with the place being empty. I saw a man hanging around last weekend, you know."

Addison's danger radar went up. "A man hanging around? Can you describe him?"

"Not really. I thought he might be going to break in, but then he went away. I was going to phone the police, but then my taxi arrived to take me to the bus station. I must admit I forgot all about it until now."

Addison, Layla, and Olivia all stiffened and stared at each other.

"What?" asked Mrs Jones. "Did he come back?"

Layla explained that her ex-husband was in town, and without going into too much detail, told Mrs Jones that he wasn't welcome around here.

"If you happen to see him again, would you call the police?" asked Addison.

"Of course," said Mrs Jones. "Any chance I could have another one of those brownies?"

Addison sliced another end from the slab and cut four more brownie pieces. She was handing them out when Mrs Jones's eyes widened. Addison turned to follow the woman's gaze out the window, and came face-to-face with Rick Ramirez.

21

Addison was too mad to be scared. She flung the back door open and launched herself at Rick, shoving him in the chest. He just managed to grab the railing and stop himself falling down the stairs.

"How dare you come around here frightening people!" Addison yelled. "You've caused enough hurt. You've got exactly ten seconds to clear off before I call the police."

Rick held both hands high to show he wasn't there to do any harm. "Please, Addison. I know what I've done. I'm not here to cause any more trouble."

"Then what are you doing sneaking around the back of the house?"

"I didn't think you'd let me in the front door."

"You got that right," said Olivia over Addison's shoulder. Addison turned to find both Olivia and Mrs Jones standing right behind her, hands on their hips. Layla hovered in the doorway.

"Call the police, Olivia," said Addison.

Olivia pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket.

"No, wait, please," said Rick. "I've still got five seconds. All I want is to talk to Layla. To apologise. She deserves an apology after all I've done."

Olivia held the phone in the air but didn't make the call.

Addison turned to Layla. "He wants to apologise," she said. "Is that something you want to hear?"

"Maybe," said Layla. Addison could see the fear all over her face.

Addison stepped aside a fraction, just enough so that Layla and Rick could see each other. But she stood firm, ready to intervene if he made the slightest move. So did Olivia and Mrs Jones. Addison felt a tiny kick of power having the two of them back her up, even if one was barely an adult and the other was pushing seventy.

"Say what you've come to say," Addison told Rick.

"I was hoping to have a moment alone—"

Addison shook her head emphatically. "Never going to happen. Say what you need to say, then get out of here."

Rick took a deep breath and focused on Layla. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry for all I put you through. I had a lot of time to think about it these last five years. I was an a…" Rick surveyed the audience and chose better words after a stern look from Mrs Jones. "I wasn't a good man. I wasn't a good husband. You deserved better."

"You're damn right I did," said Layla, and Addison had to suppress a smile. You go, girl.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Rick asked.

"Did you kill my sister?" Layla countered.

"What? No. I didn't touch Jenna. I haven't seen her since… since I went away. I heard what happened, though. I'm sorry."

Layla stood in the doorway and regarded her ex-husband for a long while. Addison almost broke the silence herself, it was so tense. Eventually Layla spoke.

"I've moved on, Rick. I've built a home, a successful business. I'll build it again. I don't need you anymore."

Addison was so proud of her cousin right then. She thought Rick was about to cry.

"Please, babe. I know you don't need me anymore. I get that. But I need to apologise to you. Properly. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow? Anywhere you want. I just want to talk to you. I promise I'll never hurt you again."

Addison thought for sure Layla would turn him down, and she was ready to threaten him with the police again. But Layla surprised her.

"Meet me at Hazel's tomorrow afternoon," Layla said to Rick. "Two o'clock."

"Thank you," Rick said. He smiled at Addison and then walked away.

"Are you serious?" asked Olivia when they all went back inside.

"Olivia," Addison warned. "It's Layla's business."

"But…"

"No buts. Why don't you feed Charlie?"

Addison checked all the windows to make sure Rick had truly gone, then she took Layla and Mrs Jones into the great room.

"The child is right," said Mrs Jones. "You were no sooner through explaining all about that horrible man to me when he appeared, and now you've agreed to sit down with him. I thought you didn't want any more to do with him?"

Addison couldn't have said it better herself. She was beginning to like Mrs Jones a lot. She waited for Layla to respond.

"We'll be at Hazel's, surrounded by people. And Addison will be there too. I won't go alone." Layla raised her eyebrows at Addison, silently asking the question.

"Of course I'll go with you," said Addison. "But that's not what Rick thinks. He's not going to be happy."

"I'm not doing it to make him happy. I'm doing it to find out whether he killed my sister."

Now it was starting to make sense. Addison smiled. Her cousin wasn't as silly as she looked.

"Well I hope the two of you are very careful," said Mrs Jones. She glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the fireplace. "I'd better get home before it goes dark. I don't like being out in the dark, and Bella will be wondering where I am."

Mrs Jones headed for the front door as Addison mouthed 'Bella' with a questioning look to Layla.

'Dog,' Layla mouthed back. Addison nodded her understanding.

"Thanks so much for stopping by, Mrs Jones," Addison said. "It was lovely to meet you. Please come anytime."

"Yes, it was nice to meet you too, dear. Say goodbye to Olivia for me." Mrs Jones cast a final look at Layla. "Take care."

"I will," said Layla. "Give Bella a cuddle for me."

Addison watched as Mrs Jones made her way down the front steps and through a hole in the hedge to her house next door. Addison hadn't even known the hole was there. Which reminded her, she needed to get a lock for the gate at the side of the house. She didn't like the idea of Rick just waltzing in like he owned the place. Or anyone, for that matter.

Back inside, Addison and Layla stood in the half empty great room. The lounge area was furnished with the couch and armchairs Addison had brought up from Sydney, but there was a big space on the opposite side of the room where she planned to put a dining table suitable for a full complement of house guests. They'd have to go furniture shopping before too long.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Addison asked Layla. Olivia and Charlie joined them, Olivia taking one of the armchairs and Charlie, still licking his lips from his dinner, settling by her feet.

"I'm sure. He's not the type of person who gives up. And like I said, I want to find out whether he killed my sister."

"Are you just going to ask him?" said Olivia.

"I might. I don't know. But I won't find out anything if I don't talk to him."

Addison leaned forward. "It's not your job to find out who killed Jenna," she said, realising the irony as soon as the words left her mouth.

"Look who's talking," said Olivia with a little snort.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I'm serious. Rick Ramirez is bad news. I really don't want you going anywhere near him, Layla."

"But you'll go with me anyway, won't you?"

Addison sighed. She was never going to change Layla's mind.

"Of course I will. Now, let's think about some dinner. I'm starving."

22

Layla came down to breakfast the next morning with her phone to her ear. She sounded like she was just finishing off a call. Addison cracked eggs into a bowl, added a splash of milk, and whisked them with a fork.

"Who was that?" she asked when Layla put the phone down. "And good morning."

"Good morning." Layla flicked the kettle on before settling onto a stool at the kitchen bench. "That was some guy from Jenna's work. Said he was working on a special project for her."

"What special project?"

"I don't know. He said it was something she'd asked him to do outside of the firm. Looking into a development or something. To be honest, Addison, I didn't pay much attention."

Addison poured the eggs into the frypan and dropped three pieces of bread into the toaster. "So why was he calling?" she asked as she scrambled the eggs.

"He'd just heard about Jenna. He wanted to see if he should continue the investigation, seeing as it was a private matter she'd asked him to look into outside of the firm."

"What did you tell him?"

Layla shrugged. "I told him not to bother. It doesn't matter now, does it?" The kettle boiled, and Layla made tea for herself and Addison.

"It might," said Addison. She turned the stove off once the eggs were done and set the pan aside. The toast popped up, and she divided it and the eggs onto three waiting plates. "Olivia!" she called up the stairs. "Breakfast!"

Charlie came running down the stairs, followed by Olivia in her skimpy sleeping shorts and singlet. "Sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes. "I slept in."

"Late night?" asked Addison, pushing a plate towards her spot at the bench. They'd taken to eating breakfast here each morning together, Layla and Olivia on stools and Addison propped against the opposite counter.

"I made a start on some of the reading material for uni," said Olivia as she waited for the coffee machine to heat up. "Fascinating stuff, but there's so much of it. It's going to be an interesting year."

Addison made a start on her eggs, noticing Layla had almost finished hers. It was good to see her eating again.

"Do you want another piece of toast?" Addison asked.

"No, thanks. That's enough. What did you mean when you said it might matter? Jenna's special project?"

"Well, what if it had something to do with her murder?" said Addison.

Olivia's head swivelled around from where she was busy frothing milk for her morning latte. "What's got to do with Jenna's murder?"

"Some guy from her work just called Layla. Said he was working on a secret project for her," Addison explained.

"He didn't say it was secret. Just personal."

"Even so…"

"You could be right," said Layla. "I didn't think of it being related to her murder. I'm so stupid!"

"You're not stupid," said Addison. "You're tired. You've been through a lot, emotionally. It's okay. Did you get his name?"

"He did say it. Something interesting, like Flynn, Finn, something like that. I didn't catch his last name. Oh, but it was a mobile number he called from. I guess I could call him back?"

"Let's both do that after breakfast," said Addison.

"Good idea."

"Are we working on the house today?" Olivia asked. "I mean, before your meeting this afternoon?"

Painting was the last thing Addison felt like doing today. "Let's take a break," she said. "What would you like to do?"

"It's a beautiful day," said Olivia. "I thought I might spend a little time at the beach."

"Great idea," said Addison. "Layla? Do you want to go to the beach? Or are you going to visit Uncle Dennis?"

"I'll go and see Dad. I don't know how much time he has left."

Addison was torn. She should really go with Layla to the nursing home. Although she'd warned Angie about Rick, she didn't trust the guy one bit. She didn't want to leave Layla alone while he was in town. But she should be spending time with Olivia before she went off to uni, and a morning on the beach sounded great.

"Go with Layla," said Olivia, reading Addison's mind. "I don't trust that guy either."

Addison smiled and nodded her agreement.

After breakfast Olivia got changed and headed off to the beach, promising her mother she'd cover herself in sunscreen. Addison and Layla settled at the kitchen table to call Flynn or Finn back. Addison had her notebook ready. Layla put the phone on speaker and hit the last number on her recent calls list.

"Finlay Maguire," the voice answered.

"Hi Finn," said Layla. "This is Jenna's sister, we spoke earlier this morning."

"Yes, hello again. How can I help you?"

"I've been speaking with my cousin about what you said this morning. I've got her here with me, you're on speaker phone. Her name is Addison."

"Hello, Addison."

"Hi Finn," said Addison, leaning over the top of the phone. She'd always felt a bit weird using a phone on speaker.

"Would you be able to tell Addison what you told me this morning?" Layla asked.

"Of course," Finn replied. "Jenna had me looking into the legalities of a development project. It wasn't something to do with any of the cases the firm is currently working on, so I was just wondering whether I should continue or not. In light of your loss, I mean. I was very sorry to hear about what happened to Jenna."

"Thank you, Finn," said Addison. "What can you tell us about the development project?"

"Not a great deal, I'm afraid. I wasn't able to find out much, because the project is in Queensland and we're in New South Wales."

"It wouldn't happen to be an apartment building in Getaway Bay, would it?" asked Addison.

"Yes, it is." Addison heard the clicking of a keyboard. "It's owned by a Mr Edward Mathieson."

"What did Jenna want you to find out?"

"She was interested in the approval process. She wanted to know if there was anything, shall we say, dodgy about it."

"And was there?" asked Layla.

"Not that I could find. It was approved by the local council, five votes to four. There was some debate as to whether it was too close to the beach or not. Apparently it was submitted to council a couple of years ago, and at that stage it was rejected. But this time it was passed, so it went ahead."

"What had changed?" asked Addison.

"Well that's the thing," said Finn. "Nothing changed with the submission, from what I could see. The only thing that changed was one of the councillors. One must have retired and was replaced."

"Jerry," said Layla. "He retired last year."

More clicking on Finn's keyboard. "That's right. Jerard Nichols."

"So let me get this straight," said Addison. "When Jerry Nichols was on the council, the development was rejected five votes to four. Then he retired, and it was submitted again unchanged, and this time it passed."

"That's correct," said Finn.

"When was the development approved?" Addison asked, her pen now scribbling furiously in her notebook.

"Ah, hang on a minute. Yes, here it is. October last year. I'm sorry, I've got a meeting to get to. Is there anything else you need to know?"

Addison shook her head, then realised how silly that was. "No thanks, Finn. You've been very helpful."

They ended the call, and Addison and Layla sat silent for a moment. Addison's brain was working overtime. Jerry Nichols was Charlie's previous owner. He'd been a road block to Edward's development, until he'd retired from the council. He'd passed away only a few weeks ago.

"Do you remember Jerry retiring from council?" Addison asked Layla.

"I do, actually. The whole town was shocked. Jerry loved serving the community. He'd always said he'd do it until he died, or until he was voted off. Whichever came first. No-one expected him to retire."

"We should have asked Finn who replaced him."

"That's easy," said Layla. "Lisa Mathieson."

"Edward's niece?"

"Yes. She works at the bakery with him." Layla's eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, wow. You don't think…"

"That Ed somehow got Jerry to retire so his niece could take his place and vote in favour of his development? Yes. That's exactly what I think. And I'll bet Jenna thought so, too."

23

Dennis was sitting up in bed watching television when Addison and Layla arrived. At least his eyes were trained on the screen. Whether he was actually taking any of it in, Addison couldn't even guess.

"Hello, Dad," said Layla, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Dennis frowned. "Angie," he said.

"No, I'm Layla. Your daughter."

"Jenna."

Layla glanced at Addison, who'd settled herself into the chair in the corner with her notebook. Addison shrugged. They'd already decided not to tell Dennis about Jenna's death, for his own sake.

Layla turned back to her father. "Jenna's in Sydney, Dad," she lied. "I don't know where Angie is. I think it's her day off."

Dennis stared at Layla then, and Addison held her breath, wondering whether Layla would be strong enough to keep up the lie. Addison wasn't totally sure it was the right thing to do, but it had made sense when Angie had explained it.

Dennis closed his eyes and settled down further in the bed. Layla sat with him for a long while, just holding his hand. It brought back painful memories for Addison of her last weeks with Rob.

She distracted herself by opening the notebook and reading everything Finn had told them about Ed Mathieson's development. Jenna had clearly been suspicious of Ed if she'd asked Finn to investigate. Had she got close to a secret Ed wanted to keep hidden? Did he kill her to keep her quiet?

Addison decided she needed to speak to Wilcox. The police station wasn't far from here.

"Do you mind if I leave you here for a while?" Addison asked Layla. "I'll come back in time to take you to Hazel's."

"Sure," said Layla.

Addison gave her cousin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then left her to it. On her way out she stopped at the front desk to make sure they were on the lookout for Rick. The nurse on duty assured her they were aware of the situation, and would call the police immediately if he showed his face.

It was about a five-minute walk to the police station, and Addison used the time to think of a strategy for approaching Wilcox. It all went out the window when she literally ran into him outside the station.

"Oh, sorry!" she said as they collided. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

Wilcox looked exasperated, and she hadn't even started talking to him about Ed yet.

"Mrs Lake," he said with a frown. "Were you coming to the station? Do you have something new to report?"

"Well, yes and no. I'd like to talk to you about it, if you have time."

Wilcox made a point of looking at his watch. "I guess I have five minutes. I was just ducking out to get a sandwich, if you'd care to walk with me."

He sounded very formal for a laid-back Queensland town, but then Addison remembered he'd originally come from Sydney like her. She decided to break the ice a little instead of launching straight into the case.

"What part of Sydney are you from?" she asked as they headed towards the town centre.

"Originally I'm from the Western Suburbs, but I worked all over the city."

"Do you miss it?"

Wilcox shook his head. "I like the weather better up here. And it's quieter." He turned to face her. "Usually. What did you want to talk about?"

Enough small talk, then. "I wanted to know if you considered Ed Mathieson a suspect in Jenna's murder."

"You mean because of all the talk about a feud between them, also involving Hazel Henshaw?"

"Yes. But not just that." Addison explained their earlier discussion with Finn from Jenna's law firm.

"I see. So you think Mathieson was covering something up, perhaps some kind of underhanded means of getting his development approved, and Jenna found out so he killed her to keep it quiet?"

"Um, yes. But it sounds so wicked when you put it like that."

"Murder is wicked, Mrs Lake."

"I guess it is. So, are you investigating Ed?"

"We've looked into his possible involvement, yes."

Wilcox wasn't giving anything up easily.

"And?"

"And our investigation is ongoing. I can't tell you any more than that."

How frustrating. Addison shoved her hands in her pockets. "What about Jerry Nichols?"

"What about him?"

"Isn't it strange that he retired from council, even though he said he'd never do that? And he's replaced on the council by a relative of Ed Mathieson's, who subsequently approved Mathieson's development unchanged? And then within months Jerry is dead? Did he really die of natural causes?"

Wilcox stopped walking and stood in front of Addison with his arms folded. "Haven't I already asked you to stay out of this investigation? Making accusations like that could get you into trouble."

"I'm not making accusations. They're merely observations. Ones which you should have already made." Addison mirrored Wilcox's folded arms stance.

Wilcox let out an exaggerated sigh. He looked around, as if making sure he wasn't overheard, then he leaned closer to Addison.

"Look," he said, talking to her but watching the rest of the street, "It wasn't Mathieson. He has an alibi. He was in Riverwood at the time of Jenna's murder, giving a speech to some community group or other. There are at least fifty witnesses that can put him half an hour away at the time of the murder and the fire."

"Oh." Addison felt herself deflate.

"Yes, oh." Wilcox continued walking towards town, and Addison had to take a couple of quick steps to catch up with him.

"You might have led with that," she said.

"I'm not supposed to have told you that. It's a murder inquiry, Mrs Lake. I could lose my job for discussing it with you. You of all people should know that."

It was Addison's turn to sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just – I want to help close this case, for Layla's sake."

"You know I haven't completely ruled her out as a suspect."

"Layla? You can't still be thinking she killed her own sister. I told you – she was with me when the fire started. In the pub. She's got her own fifty witnesses that will say so."

"And like I already told you, there are ways to delay the start of a fire so you're not there when it takes hold."

Addison gritted her teeth together. It wouldn't do her any good to argue with Wilcox on that point. She knew Layla wasn't the killer. That was good enough.

They reached the front of the bakery, and Addison looked inside to see Ed Mathieson grinning at a customer from behind the counter. She'd never formally met the man, but she didn't like him. For all Jenna's faults, she'd always been a good judge of character.

"Did you hear from Layla's ex-husband again?" Wilcox asked.

Addison turned her attention back to him and nodded. "Rick turned up at the beach house again last night. He convinced Layla to meet him this afternoon at Hazel's. He says he just wants to apologise to her."

"Do you believe him?"

"Not in the slightest. He's up to something." Addison nodded towards Ed. "If it wasn't him who killed Jenna, it has to have been Rick."

"Are you going to be with her when she meets him, then?"

"Of course. I'm not letting him anywhere near her alone."

Wilcox nodded. "Good. Look, I've got go now. But there's something I need to speak with Layla about. Can I come to the beach house later this afternoon?"

"That depends. Are you going to charge her with murder?"

"Not at this stage."

"Then okay. We should be back there by four o'clock."

24

Addison returned to the nursing home and sat with Layla and Dennis until it was time to go to Hazel's. Their plan was to get to the cafe around one o'clock so they could have lunch and settle their nerves before Rick arrived at two.

"How is he?" Addison asked as they walked to the car.

Layla sighed. "He seemed unsettled. Kept asking for Angie, although I told him she wasn't there. Eventually I had to go and ask in reception if she was around, but it's her day off. I think I finally got that through to Dad. Then he kept going on about Jenna. It was a struggle to keep her death from him, Addison."

"If he's that lucid, maybe you should tell him?" Addison suggested.

"Yes, maybe."

Addison parked outside Hazel's and they went in.

"Where did you go today?" Layla asked once they'd ordered sandwiches and taken a table right in the middle of the cafe.

"To see Wilcox about that phone call," Addison replied. She told Layla about her conversation with Wilcox, leaving out the part about Layla still being a suspect.

"So it definitely wasn't Ed, then."

"No. I wonder whether there was anything in it? What Jenna found out about his development, I mean."

Layla shrugged. "We might never know. I don't think there were any suspicions around Jerry's death. And from what I can remember, he just changed his mind about retiring. He said he got tired, and found it difficult to get to the meetings."

"I suppose that's fair enough," said Addison. Hazel brought their sandwiches and coffees to the table, and the two of them ate in silence. Addison guessed Layla was thinking about Rick, while she was lost in her own thoughts about the case.

It must have been Rick. There was no other reasonable explanation. He was a slimy one, Rick Ramirez. Addison had no doubt he was capable of murder and arson if it served his own purposes.

Hazel cleared their plates away at a quarter to two, and asked if they wanted more coffee. They both said yes, and Addison explained who they were waiting for. Hazel said she would keep an eye on their table, and call the police at the first sign of trouble.

"I'm sorry," said Layla when they were alone again.

"For what?"

"You shouldn't have to go through all this. You've only just arrived in town. You came here to get away from drama, and here I've landed you right back in it."

"Hey, don't be silly," said Addison. She reached across the table and squeezed her cousin's hand. "None of this is your fault. What happened to Jenna, Rick being here, none of it is your doing. I'm just glad I'm here to support you."

"You're a good friend, Addison."

Addison felt Layla's body stiffen before she pulled her hand away. She turned to see Rick in the doorway of the cafe. He strode over to the table.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Addison.

"She stays or I go," said Layla before Addison had the chance to speak.

Rick thought about it for a moment, then pulled out a chair and sat. Hazel came straight over with Addison and Layla's second coffees.

"Can I get you anything?" Hazel asked Rick.

"An English breakfast tea please," said Rick with a smile.

Addison couldn't help herself. "Tea? Really?"

"It was the only good thing to come out of prison," said Rick. "The coffee they served was disgusting, so I learned to like tea. It stuck."

The three of them sat staring at each other for a long while. Rick's bravado of the previous day was gone. He actually looked nervous. Eventually Layla broke the silence.

"What do you want, Rick?"

Rick sat up a little straighter and folded his hands together in front of him. He glanced nervously at Addison before focusing his attention on Layla.

"I want to apologise, Layla. For everything. Including scaring you both yesterday. That wasn't my intention."

Layla and Addison remained silent. Rick continued.

"I know I was a lousy husband. I said things… I did things… things you have no reason to forgive me for. I was a drunk. A rotten, mean, drunk. But I loved you, Layla. I still love you.

"I've changed. I haven't had a drink since I went to prison. When I got out I was tempted, but I decided it wasn't as important to me as you are. I want you back, Layla. And I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to win you back. I want us to be together again."

Addison's eye's widened, but she kept quiet. She was here for moral support. Physical support, if necessary. But she wasn't here to tell Layla what to do. She just had to hope her cousin wouldn't fall for Rick's 'I've changed' speech. A drunk like him would never change.

Hazel brought Rick's tea to the table. She lifted one eyebrow at Addison, and Addison gave her a tiny nod in return. Everything's okay, it said. For now.

Rick poured the tea into the cup and added milk. He took a sip, and it was all Addison could do to stop herself knocking it out of his hands. He was too smug.

"You've stopped drinking?" Layla asked. Addison sensed a tiny sliver of hope in her voice. Oh no.

"Yes. I wasn't a nice person when I was drinking. I wasn't a good husband. I want to be a good husband, Layla. Like when we were first married.

"I've got a job lined up in Brisbane. You could come with me. We'll start again. It'll be different, babe. I promise. I've learnt my lesson."

Addison stared at Layla, and realised she was actually considering taking him back. Addison couldn't let that happen.

"How can you even be thinking about this?" Addison asked Layla. "You know he killed Jenna."

"I did not!" Rick's chair slid back, and for a moment Addison thought he was going to raise a hand to her. But he caught himself and settled down again. "I didn't touch Jenna. I hadn't seen her for five years. I didn't even know she was here."

"Rubbish," said Addison. She couldn't stop herself now. "You killed Jenna to get her out of the way, and you burnt Layla's gallery to the ground so she'd have nothing left. You destroyed her life, and now you swoop in here and offer her a new life to replace it. It's obvious. You killed Jenna. You must have."

"So call the police and report me then," said Rick. "You'll see how far your accusation gets." He turned his attention back to Layla. "I didn't do it, babe. I'd never do anything like that. I'd never hurt you."

Layla shook her head at that. "You hurt me for years, Rick. How do I know Addison isn't right? How do I know you didn't kill my sister?"

"Because I was in Brisbane when she died and that fire was lit. I was reporting to the police station as part of my parole. Check with them. I couldn't have been here. I didn't do it."

He tried to take Layla's hand, but she pulled it out of his reach. "I'm sorry, babe. I know I hurt you in the past. A lot. I'll never be able to take that back. I wish I could. But I can promise you I'll never hurt you in the future. Come with me, let me show you."

Layla wrung her hands together. She looked all around the cafe, to Hazel, to the other customers eating their lunches and drinking their coffee. She looked at everyone but Addison. Oh my goodness, thought Addison. She's actually considering this.

"At least wait until we've checked with Wilcox," Addison pleaded. "You don't know whether he's lying or not. He's lied his whole life." Okay, so Addison hadn't known Rick his whole life, but she still felt confident calling him a liar. She'd met enough of his type.

Layla shook her head. "I don't need to wait for anything." She picked up her teaspoon and started turning it over and over on the table. She stared at it for a long time. At least it felt like a long time for Addison. She couldn't believe it. Layla was going to go back to her abusive, no-good husband. The man who'd put her in the hospital. The man who she'd said she never wanted to see again.

"So you'll come?" Rick asked, glancing nervously between Layla and Addison.

Layla finally dropped the teaspoon and focused on Rick. "I hope you mean everything you just said. I hope you've stopped drinking. I hope you've got a job to go to in Brisbane. I really do. But I'm not going with you."

Addison's sigh of relief was audible. She put a hand over her mouth and stared at Layla. Thank goodness.

"I don't understand," said Rick. "I'm finally becoming the man you wanted me to be. Don't you see that?"

"It's too late, Rick. You needed to be that man years ago. Not now. I truly hope you've turned your life around. But you can't be a part of my life anymore. I've moved on. My life is here, in Getaway Bay."

"Then I could stay," Rick said. "I could find a job here. I'm sure we could work it out with the parole board—"

"No," said Layla. Her voice was firm. Addison was proud of her. "My life is here, not yours. You need to make a fresh start. In Brisbane, or wherever you might end up. But not here."

Addison thought Rick might burst into tears. Maybe he had really changed.

"You're sure?" he asked, shoulders slumped.

"I'm sure. A small part of me still loves you, Rick. Despite everything. I want you to do well, I really do. But I don't want you in my life anymore."

Rick nodded, and pushed his tea cup and saucer away. He took a deep breath, and stood. "So this is goodbye, then."

Layla stood and embraced him. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then stood back. "Goodbye, Rick."

He did cry then. "Goodbye, Layla." He fished in his pocket and left a five dollar note on the table for his tea. "Take care."

"Are you all right?" Addison asked once Rick had gone.

Layla nodded. "Yes. To be honest, I'm relieved he came here. It's given me a chance to put our marriage behind me once and for all."

Addison went and paid Hazel for their lunch and drinks, and then they walked to the car. "You really think he'll just go?"

"I do," said Layla. "I believe him when he says he's changed. He does seem different."

Addison unlocked the Rav 4 and they climbed in.

"You know," said Layla once they were on the road, "I was really dreading seeing him again. Even with him in prison, I knew he would one day get out. And I knew he'd find me. I guess even though I'd moved on and built my new life, he was always in the back of my mind."

"And now?" Addison asked.

"Now I think I can finally get him out of my head. I can rebuild my life. Again. And it's good to know he wasn't responsible for destroying it this time."

Addison shook her head as she remembered his alibi. "I was sure it had been him," she said as she turned onto Seaview Drive.

"I'm glad it wasn't," said Layla.

Addison parked the car in front of the beach house and switched off the ignition. "So that's both Ed and Rick ruled out," she said, as she saw Olivia come out onto the verandah to greet them. "Who does that leave?"

Layla nodded towards the man who appeared behind Olivia.

Jason.

25

"How did it go?" Olivia asked as Addison and Layla approached the house.

"As good as I could have hoped," Layla answered. "I don't think he'll be back."

Layla went inside and headed straight up to her room, leaving Addison with Olivia and Jason. She gave them a brief rundown of what had occurred at the lunch, as well as her meeting with Wilcox.

"So Ed's in the clear as well then," said Olivia as the three of them settled in the kitchen.

"It would seem so." Addison turned to Jason. "Did I ask you to come over today? I don't remember."

"No. But I wasn't sure what the situation was with Rick, and I wasn't doing anything, so…"

"Thanks," said Addison. He might be on Wilcox's watch list, but Addison felt no threat from Jason. He was an open book. If he'd murdered Jenna and burnt down Layla's home there was no way he could act so normal around them.

She opened the pantry and started collecting ingredients, and before she knew it a batch of Anzac biscuits was underway. Jason and Olivia watched on – Jason with interest; Olivia, by the look on her face, was just hungry.

"I've never had Anzac biscuits before," Jason confessed.

"Really?" Olivia looked at him as if he had two heads. "Mum makes them all the time, not just around Anzac Day. They're awesome."

Addison smiled at her daughter's compliment. "You'd better stick around, Jason. These won't take long. Olivia, get that coffee machine going. I think I need another one after today."

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting over coffee and biscuits, then Jason left and Addison made a start on the chicken casserole she'd planned to cook for dinner. By the time it was in the oven she realised she'd spent a good part of the afternoon in the kitchen, and there was no place she'd rather be.

Olivia had taken Charlie for a walk and Layla was still up in her room, which gave Addison a chance to sit down with her thoughts and her notebook. If Rick hadn't killed Jenna, and it wasn't Ed either, then who was it? The thought of a murderer remaining in the community was unsettling to say the least.

Addison realised Detective Wilcox had said he'd be over that afternoon. She fished his card out of her handbag and put the number into her phone. When she'd finished adding the contact, she called him.

"Detective Sergeant Wilcox," he said in a gruff voice.

"Detective Wilcox, hello, it's Addison Lake."

"Oh. Hello. I was meant to come around and see your cousin this afternoon. Time has gotten away from me."

"Well she's home now. Would you like to join us for dinner?" The invitation was out of Addison's mouth before she realised what she was doing, but she couldn't take it back. She grimaced as she waited for his response.

"Um, okay. I guess I could do that. Thank you very much. What time shall I be there?"

Addison checked the clock on the wall. It was already after five. "What about half past six?" she asked.

"Yes, I can make that. See you then." He ended the call, and Addison was left staring at her phone. She was still staring at it when Olivia and Charlie returned from their walk.

"What's up?" asked Olivia, grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard. Charlie lapped up water from his bowl.

"I think I just invited Detective Wilcox over for dinner."

"You think?"

"No, I did. I invited him. Why did I do that?"

"That was going to be my question." Olivia slopped juice onto the counter and cleaned it up with the dishcloth. She took a long drink from the glass.

"I don't know. It just came out. He said he needed to come over and speak to Layla, and it's nearly dinner time, so, I guess it just seemed like the obvious thing to do."

"I thought you didn't like him?" Olivia finished her juice and put the glass in the dishwasher.

"I didn't like him because I thought he was incompetent. He's risen in my estimation since then. Still, it's odd that he accepted. I don't even know if he has any family."

"You don't know if who has any family?" asked Layla as she appeared at the bottom of the kitchen stairs.

"Detective Wilcox," said Olivia. "Mum's invited him to dinner." Olivia raised her eyebrows and smirked as she spoke.

"Oh. As far as I know he's single," said Layla. Then she turned on Addison and gripped one of her arms. "Are you interested?" she said in a voice that reminded Addison of when they were teenagers.

"No! I just… he wants to see you, so… oh, sod off, both of you. Olivia, help me peel some potatoes for dinner."

"Can I go have a shower first? Charlie and I went for a run along the beach. I'm all sweaty."

"I'll peel the potatoes," Layla offered.

"Thanks!" Olivia raced off up the stairs before Addison could protest.

"So did he say what he wants to talk to me about?" Layla asked as she fished potatoes out of the basket they kept in the bottom of the pantry.

"No. It was a brief conversation. I called him to ask about Rick's alibi, whether they'd confirmed it or not."

Layla backed out of the pantry with four good-sized potatoes in her hands. "And had they?"

"I didn't get the chance to ask. He said he'd been meaning to come and see you, and my dinner invitation just kind of blurted itself out."

"Oh. Okay. I guess I'll just wait and see then."

Layla peeled the potatoes and put them in a pot of water on the stove while Addison prepared some green beans and broccoli to go with the casserole and mash. When everything was sorted in the kitchen she took herself off upstairs to change. It had been a long day, and she could do with some freshening up.

Back downstairs Addison heard shuffling in the great room. She went in and found Detective Wilcox standing in the doorway.

"I knocked for a few minutes, but you mustn't have heard," he said. "The door was unlocked so I let myself in. Sorry."

"That's fine, come in," said Addison, adding a doorbell to her mental list of items still to be purchased for the beach house. It wouldn't do for bed and breakfast guests to be left standing outside because she couldn't hear them knock.

Wilcox thrust a bottle of white wine at Addison. "I didn't know what you were cooking, but if this doesn't go with dinner you can save it for another night."

"Thank you," said Addison, accepting the bottle of sauvignon blanc. "We're having chicken, so this will go nicely. Please, take a seat. Layla will be down in a minute."

Addison put the bottle of wine in the fridge, then sent Olivia, who was hovering in the kitchen, up to get Layla. A minute later she heard Layla come down the front staircase, which descended into the great room. Olivia appeared in the kitchen via the back staircase.

"Are we going to join them?" Olivia asked.

"No," said Addison, although she was desperate to hear what Wilcox had to say. "Not unless Layla asks us to."

Addison lit the stove to set the potatoes cooking. Before long Layla and Wilcox entered the kitchen.

"Are you all right?" Addison asked her cousin.

Layla nodded. "They've found the murder weapon. It was…" she turned to Wilcox. "Can you tell them, please?"

Wilcox cleared his throat. "The coroner determined that Jenna was struck in the head with a heavy object. The forensic team found a wrench in the remains of the fire. It matches the wound found on Jenna's skull."

"He showed me a photograph, but I'd never seen it before. I didn't have anything like that amongst my tools."

"So whoever killed Jenna brought it with them?" Addison asked.

Wilcox nodded. "That is the conclusion we've drawn," he said.

There was an awkward silence as Addison digested this information. Whoever killed Jenna had brought a big heavy wrench with them. Either they were some sort of tradesman, or they had gone there with the intent to kill.

Layla began to cry, and Addison pulled her into a hug.

"They'll find who did it soon," she said, then looked up at Wilcox. "Won't you?"

"That's my intention," said the detective.

26

Over dinner Addison asked Wilcox about Rick's alibi.

"Yes, we checked that out this afternoon. He reported to a police station in Brisbane at five o'clock on Friday afternoon. There is CCTV footage, as well as three officers who verified his appearance. There's no doubt he was in Brisbane at five pm Friday."

"Which means he couldn't have been in Getaway Bay when Jenna was murdered around six-thirty," said Addison.

"No. It's at least a two-and-a-half-hour drive, and from what we know Ramirez doesn't yet have a vehicle. He claims he caught the last bus on Friday night, which would have got him here no earlier than nine pm. Senior Constable Short is confirming that, but either way he didn't kill Jenna."

"Can we not talk about this anymore?" said Layla. "I'm sure you're doing your best, Detective. I just… I'd really like to stop thinking about it all for now, if that's okay."

"Of course," said Addison. Wilcox and Olivia both nodded their agreement.

There was a moment's tense silence while everyone tried to think of something else to say, then Olivia spoke.

"Detective Wilcox, Mum says you moved here from Sydney like us. Do you have any family in Getaway Bay?"

Wilcox rested his knife and fork on the edges of his plate. "No. My wife passed away ten years ago. We didn't have any children."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Addison. "Ten years ago, you must have still been young."

"I was forty-six. I know, I was young enough to remarry, but I never wanted to. Beth was the love of my life."

"I know how you feel," said Addison.

"I came here because I requested a transfer out of the city. There was nothing available in New South Wales at the time, so I accepted an interstate transfer. This was the first available one."

"So you've been here ten years?" asked Olivia.

"Yes. I like the quiet. And the water. I do some fishing from time to time."

The rest of the meal passed with small talk, and Addison found herself liking the detective more and more. He was certainly becoming more like a real person to her rather than the authority figure she'd seen him as up until now.

When they'd finished eating Layla excused herself and went up to her room. She'd barely said a word at dinner, and Addison was worried about her. She asked Wilcox if there was anything else he'd spoken to her about earlier, besides the murder weapon.

"No," he replied.

"Okay. It's just – I thought she was improving. She'd started eating better, and then this afternoon she got Rick out of her hair for good. Things were looking up. And now… she hardly touched her dinner. And she was very quiet."

"Grief comes in waves, Addison. You and I both know that. I expect that's all it is. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

They stepped out onto the verandah and he closed the front door. "I still haven't completely ruled her out," he said in a low voice.

"For Jenna's murder? You can't still think—"

"I have my doubts, definitely. But Short thinks there's a possibility. She's been researching ways to set a fire and have it delay taking hold. It's not out of the question."

"It is most certainly out of the question," Addison countered. "It wasn't Layla. I was there. She couldn't possibly have run back into the house to get her purse, killed Jenna, set some sort of elaborate fire plan into motion, and then come out to the car all happy and natural. It just isn't possible. Layla is one of the nicest people I know."

Wilcox walked down the stairs towards his car, and Addison followed.

"I think you're right," he said.

"I know I'm right. So who else have you got?" Addison asked.

"As suspects? You know I can't discuss that with you."

Addison ignored him. "Are you looking at Jason?"

"Jason Sadler? He said he told you he went to the gallery that night to talk to Jenna."

"Yes. I sent him to you as soon as he told me that. It's possible he was outside knocking on the door when the killer was inside with Jenna."

"Or he is the killer," said Wilcox. "He's a tradesman, isn't he?"

"Handyman. He's been helping me fix up the beach house."

"Right. I wonder if he's missing a wrench?"

With that Wilcox got in his car and wound down the window. "Thank you very much for dinner, it was lovely. Much better than the frozen meal I'd planned to reheat tonight."

"You're welcome. For what it's worth, I think you're wrong about Jason, too."

"I have to follow all leads, Addison. Wherever they might take me."

She nodded, and stood staring after his car long after it had left her driveway. He was right. The police had to follow every lead, investigate every angle. But Addison knew it couldn't have been Layla or Jason. There had to be another explanation for Jenna's death. Someone else had taken a wrench to Layla's gallery with murder on their mind.

Back inside the beach house, Addison pulled her notebook out of its drawer and started writing. She made notes about the wrench, about Wilcox's suspicions, and Rick's alibi. Then she read back over everything she'd written so far. She was missing something. She had to be.

What were the possible motives? Rick's motive was revenge, Jason's was love, and for Layla and Ed Mathieson the motive would have been money. Layla stood to inherit all of Jenna's estate, and her father's shortly, too. Ed Mathieson wanted his development approved, which he got, but if Jenna uncovered any wrongdoing he could lose it all.

But she'd ruled all of these suspects out. So who else had a motive?

Did Jenna upset anyone else enough for them to want revenge? It was certainly possible. She wasn't terribly well-liked, and she was a very good lawyer. She could have made any number of enemies back in Sydney. But why would someone travel up here to kill her? Why come to a small town where an outsider would be spotted straight away? Why not kill her in Sydney?

What about love? It was hard enough to understand Jason's love for Jenna, let alone think of anyone else who might have felt the same way. No, Addison didn't think Jenna was killed for love.

That left money. The only person who stood to gain from Jenna's death financially was Layla. The police had checked her will, everything had been left to Layla. Wilcox said Detective Short had been investigating whether you could set a fire and have it not take hold immediately. Addison couldn't believe Layla would do such a thing. But still, she was curious.

Layla and Olivia had already retired to their rooms for the night. Addison locked up and turned out all the lights, then went to her own room. She pulled out the laptop Olivia had helped her choose a year ago, and changed into her nightclothes while she waited for it to boot up.

She had to type a few different search terms in to find what she was looking for, but before long Addison was reading a web page describing a simple way to light a fire and delay its start using nothing more than a candle and some folded pieces of paper. She was shocked at how easy it looked.

Could Layla really have done this? Why? She and Jenna had never been close, but that was no reason for murder. And Addison couldn't believe Layla could have killed her only sister for the money. Layla was doing all right, wasn't she?

Addison knew her cousin had struggled at first to get the money together for the gallery. And while they were making the necessary phone calls to the insurance agency it had become clear that there was still a sizeable mortgage on the property. But Layla was selling her art online, and doing quite well as far as Addison knew. Even if she did kill Jenna for the inheritance, why would she then burn down her own gallery?

No, it couldn't be Layla. Addison turned her thoughts to Ed Mathieson. He had a solid alibi, but still, Jenna had been investigating him. Could he have paid someone else to get rid of her? That seemed unlikely.

What if Ed Mathieson hadn't been the only person Jenna was investigating? She'd had quite the talent for upsetting people, Jenna. The first day they'd arrived, Addison remembered Layla talking about how Jenna had managed to upset people in town. People, she'd said. Not just one person.

It was late. Addison closed the laptop and her notebook, cleaned her teeth, and crawled into bed. Maybe she'd give that guy from Jenna's work a call in the morning. Finn, that was his name. Maybe Finn could tell her if anyone else from Getaway Bay had been in Jenna's sights.

27

Layla seemed brighter after breakfast the next day. She said she'd walk to the nursing home, as it was a beautiful day and she could do with the fresh air.

"Are you sure?" asked Addison. "Olivia and I are going into Riverwood to look at furniture. We could drop you off on the way."

"No, that's okay. I think the walk will do me good."

It must have been tough on her last night, hearing how Jenna had died. Addison tried to put herself in her cousin's shoes. Yes, she'd probably want to go for a long walk as well, to try and clear her mind as much as anything.

Addison remembered she wanted to call Finn from Jenna's work this morning. She asked Layla for the number.

"Sure," said Layla, pulling her phone out of her handbag. She found the number and read it off to Addison. "Why do you want it?"

Addison was deliberately vague. "Oh, just something he said yesterday. I'm sure it's nothing. I'll tell you tonight, once I've spoken to him."

That seemed enough to satisfy Layla. She put her phone back in her bag and headed through the great room to the front door. Addison watched her go, sad that Layla was off to spend another day at her dying father's bedside, but also somewhat relieved that she didn't have to go again herself. Sitting with a terminally ill patient brought back too many memories.

"We ready to go?" asked Olivia, as she came down the back staircase. Charlie trotted along after her.

"Just about. You can put him outside. I need to make one phone call, then we're off."

Olivia and Charlie headed for the back door while Addison tapped Finn's number on her phone. It rang a few times, then went to voicemail. She left a message asking him to call her back when it was convenient.

"All set?" she asked Olivia, who was locking the back door.

"Sure. Can I drive?"

"Of course."

During the drive Addison went through the wish list she'd made of furniture and accessories for the beach house. Top of the list was a large dining table to fill the other half of the great room. She wanted one big enough to seat all the guests should she ever have a full house.

There were six bedrooms in the beach house besides hers. One would always be Olivia's room, and off-limits to guests even when Olivia was not there. Addison wanted her daughter to feel like the beach house was her home. That left five possible guest rooms, with a total of ten possible guests. Add in herself and Olivia, and Addison figured she needed a table to seat twelve.

Layla was currently occupying one of the guest rooms, and Addison had said she could stay as long as she needed to. That room was already furnished, but the other four would need beds and side tables at the very least. The bathrooms all needed towels and accessories as well.

Addison thought about all those bathrooms. If the bed and breakfast was full, she could have five bathrooms to clean every day. Five beds to make, five lots of sheets and towels to wash. Not to mention five breakfasts to make, and the dinners she'd also planned to offer. For the first time she began to wonder whether Olivia might be right. Maybe the bed and breakfast idea was more work than she'd bargained for.

She could always hire some help, of course. But that would mean paying salaries, and superannuation, and all the tax and other complications that go with having staff. She'd never wanted to run a small business. She just wanted some company. And someone to cook for.

"What's up, Mum?" asked Olivia. "You've been quiet for a while."

Addison wasn't ready to voice her concerns about the bed and breakfast to her daughter. Olivia had been against the idea from the start. Instead, she focused on the reason for their trip into Riverwood.

"I'm just trying to think of how to furnish each of the bedrooms. We don't need to do them all at once, do we?"

"Nope. You can do one at a time if you like. Weren't you going to make each one a different colour?"

"Yes I was, but I've gone off that idea. Oh, I don't know. This business with Jenna has really got me all messed up. I wish Detective Wilcox would hurry up and catch the killer. I feel so uneasy about it all."

"I know what you mean." Olivia pulled into the parking area of a large furniture store. There were several such stores in a strip along the road leading into Riverwood. "This is as good a place to start as any," said Olivia. "Let's put the murder out of our minds for now. And you don't have to decide on any furniture today, either. We're just looking."

They got out of the Rav 4 and Addison linked her arm in her daughter's as they headed for the first store. "You're absolutely right. Let's just enjoy a day out."

Two hours and four furniture stores later, Addison's phone rang. It was Finn Maguire.

"Hello, Finlay," she said as she answered. "Thank you for calling me back."

"No problem, Mrs Lake. What can I do for you?"

Addison found a quiet corner and sat in an armchair. Olivia was on the other side of the store looking at curtains.

"Yesterday you told us that Jenna had you investigating that development in Getaway Bay for her. I wanted to ask whether she had you looking into anything else recently. Anything personal, I mean. Not connected to her work at your firm."

"Yes, actually, there was something. Hang on a minute, I'll check my notes. My memory is terrible." Addison heard the familiar clicking of keys before Finn found what he was looking for.

"I finished this investigation for her last week," he said. "That's why I didn't mention it yesterday. I figured she'd already dealt with it. I only wanted to know if I should continue with the unfinished one."

"Okay. Can you tell me about it now?"

"Actually, I'm not sure. Jenna never said whether it was confidential, but I don't know whether I can—"

"Finn, I appreciate your concerns. But my cousin is no longer with us." Addison chose her words carefully, making sure Finn knew she and Jenna were family. "What you investigated for her may be nothing, but it may have something to do with her death. I'd really like to hear about it."

There was silence for a long while, and Addison began to worry he might not tell her.

"I guess it's okay," he finally said. "It's not confidential as far as the company is concerned. It has to do with Jenna's father."

Addison pulled out her notebook as Finn started talking. Her fingers raced to keep up with everything he said. It turned out Jenna had indeed been investigating someone other than Ed Mathieson. And by the time Finn was finished, Addison had little doubt that what Jenna had discovered had gotten her killed.

28

"What's the rush?" asked Olivia as Addison bundled her out of the store.

"We have to get to the nursing home, now. Give me the keys."

Olivia fished in her handbag for the car keys and handed them to Addison. Addison almost broke into a run to get to the Rav 4.

"Has something happened to Uncle Dennis?" Olivia asked as they climbed in.

Addison threw her bag into the back seat and started the engine. She pulled out of the parking lot and raced off in the direction of Getaway Bay.

"Mum, talk to me!" Olivia yelled. "And put on your seatbelt. You're going too fast."

Addison took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. Olivia was right; a car accident was the last thing they needed. She fastened her seatbelt and eased off the accelerator.

"Sorry," she said. "I just… we need to get to the nursing home."

"Is it Uncle Dennis? Who were you talking to on the phone?"

"Uncle Dennis is fine. At least I hope he is. That was Jenna's colleague on the phone, the one we were talking to yesterday."

"The one who told you she'd been investigating Ed the baker."

"Right." Addison checked her blind spot then changed lanes to overtake a slower vehicle. "It turns out Ed wasn't the only Getaway Bay resident Jenna had been checking up on."

Addison explained to Olivia everything Finn had told her. It took most of the journey to the nursing home, but eventually Olivia was as convinced as Addison.

"We need to call Wilcox," said Olivia.

"Yes. Grab my phone, his number will be in the recent calls list." Olivia did so, and put the phone on speaker. It went to voicemail. Addison yelled a message for him to meet them at the nursing home as soon as possible, explaining her suspicions about who killed Jenna.

"Do you think we should call the police station directly?" Olivia asked. "Maybe that other officer is there."

"Good idea," said Addison, swinging the Rav into the nursing home parking lot. She parked in a space by the door and jumped out. "You do that while I go and make sure Uncle Dennis is okay."

Addison raced into the nursing home reception area before Olivia had time to protest. Before heading to Dennis's room, though, she needed to quickly check something. She approached the desk, where a young nurse sat staring at her phone.

"Excuse me, I'm Dennis Dallimore's niece. Can I please check to see if he had any visitors on Thursday last week?"

The young girl shrugged. "Sure. There's the visitor's book. Help yourself."

Addison quickly leafed through the book she'd signed herself on the occasions she'd visited with Layla. There were two visitors logged as seeing Dennis on Thursday: Layla, and Jenna. Just as she'd thought.

"Thanks," Addison called, and went off to Dennis's room. When she got there, however, her uncle was nowhere to be seen. Only Layla was there, making the bed.

Addison panicked. "Layla! What's happened? Where is he?"

Layla was startled by her voice. "Oh, Addison. It's okay, he's fine. Angie has taken him in the wheelchair. They've gone out to the garden."

"Why did she take him without you?"

Layla tucked in the last corner of the sheet and then flopped into a chair. "To be honest I needed a break for a few minutes. He's been driving me crazy all morning."

"What do you mean?"

"He keeps saying Jenna's name, over and over again. Like he was yesterday, but more persistent. Like he wants her. I don't know why, she hardly ever visited him. Occasionally he'll switch and start asking for Angie, too, even when she's standing right there. Then he'll go back to Jenna. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep telling him she's in Sydney."

Addison grabbed hold of Layla by both arms and yanked her out of the chair. "Where are they?"

"The garden, I told you. Angie suggested she take him out for a while. What's wrong?"

Addison was already out the door. She saw a sign for the garden, and followed it at a run. Olivia had caught up to them by that stage, and she and Layla followed Addison.

They burst through the door to the garden, and Addison scanned all the wheelchairs and carers out there. None of them were Uncle Dennis and Angie.

"They're not here. Where else could they be?" Addison cried.

"I don't know," said Layla, her eyes wide with fright now. "What's going on Addison? You're scaring me!"

But Addison was off again. The nursing home wasn't that big, they couldn't be far away. She raced back inside and down the halls, opening doors as she went. Olivia caught on quick and as they went down each hall Addison took one side, and Olivia the other. Layla followed behind them apologising to all the residents they disturbed with their manic searching.

"I wish you'd tell me what's happening," said Layla as they reached the visitor's lounge. Addison remembered this door had been open each time she'd been past it recently. Now it was closed.

She flung it open and there they were. Uncle Dennis in his wheelchair, and Angie standing next to him with a needle in her hand.

29

"Angie, put down the needle," said Addison. "Don't do anything stupid."

Angie held the needle closer to Dennis's throat. "Stay back, or I'll kill him."

"No you won't," said Addison, although she really had no idea what the nurse was capable of. "I know you care about him. Please, he's done nothing to hurt you."

Angie's eyes darted between Addison, Layla, and Olivia. She kept the needle pointed at Dennis's throat. Dennis's eyes told Addison he was fully aware of what was going on. The poor man didn't need this.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Layla. "What's going on?"

Addison ignored her cousin and kept her focus on Angie. "It was you who killed Jenna, wasn't it?"

"She was a mean person," said Angie. "She didn't deserve Dennis. Or Layla."

"I can't disagree with you there," said Addison. She did her best to keep her voice calm and even, while on the inside her stomach was doing somersaults. How long before the police arrived?

"She was only interested in Dennis's money," Angie said, bolder now she was finally being heard.

"That's not why you killed her though, is it? Not the only reason."

Angie shook her head, but didn't speak. Her shoulders tensed, and her grip on the needle tightened. Addison needed to keep her talking, or at least listening.

"Jenna came to see you here the day before she died, didn't she? She was investigating you."

"She had no right…"

"Maybe not. But she found out some pretty incriminating stuff, didn't she? Information that would at least end your career, if not put you in jail."

Angie just stared at Addison.

"What information?" asked Layla.

Addison cast a sideways glance at Layla. "Did you know Angie is a beneficiary of your father's will?"

"No. Jenna handled all the legal stuff. We have an unwritten agreement. I look after Dad while he's still with us, and Jenna was in charge of everything that would need doing after…" her voice trailed off as she saw the tears in her father's eyes.

"Apparently Uncle Dennis changed his will a year ago," said Addison. "He left a monetary gift to his favourite nurse. Jenna didn't think much of it at the time, she reasoned Uncle Dennis was of sound mind and could leave his money to whoever he wanted. But after meeting Angie she wanted more information, just to reassure herself your father wasn't being conned. It was a significant financial gift."

Angie twitched nervously as Addison spoke, but the needle didn't get any closer to Dennis's neck. Addison kept talking.

"Jenna, or rather her associate, Finn, found out that Angie had received other such financial 'gifts' from grateful patients."

"I didn't coerce anyone," said Angie. "It was their right to leave me whatever they wanted."

"That's for the police to sort out. Whether it was legal or not, I'm guessing the nursing homes you've worked for would be interested to hear how you've been gifted money by nine terminally ill patients over the last six years."

Layla stepped forward. "You little—"

Addison shot out an arm to stop her. She had no idea what was in that needle. The last thing they wanted to do right now was spook the woman.

"I was trying to help you," Angie said to Layla. "Your sister didn't care about your father. She didn't care about anyone. All she wanted was his money, as if she didn't already have enough of her own. I got rid of her for you."

"She was my sister!"

"Jenna."

They all looked at Dennis, who was now crying openly. "Jenna," he said again.

"Oh my goodness," said Layla. "You knew, Dad. You weren't asking for Jenna all day. Or Angie. You were trying to tell me Angie killed Jenna." Dennis nodded, and Layla started to cry too.

"I told him I got rid of her," said Angie. "So the good daughter would inherit his money. I thought he'd be happy. I did it for you. For your family."

"You did not," Layla screamed.

Addison was shocked at the force of Layla's voice. She glanced backwards searching for her daughter, but Olivia was gone. She must have backed out at some point.

"You killed my sister to cover up what you'd done. All the money you stole from dying people. You're nothing but a thief and a murderer!"

Addison couldn't hold Layla back anymore. They both lunged forward at the same time, Layla grabbing Angie and Addison going for the needle. Addison managed to grab hold of the needle and get it away from Dennis, but Angie broke free from Layla's grasp.

She got as far as the doorway before she ran straight into Olivia and Constable Short.

30

Jenna's funeral was held two days after Angie was arrested for her murder. Layla finally settled on having it in Getaway Bay, so her father could be there. He'd been well enough to attend the service, then Layla and Addison had gone with him back to the nursing home and settled him in for the evening.

"There you go, Dad," said Layla, tucking him into bed. "Do you want me to read to you? I think we've only got a couple of chapters to go."

Dennis shook his head. Layla had hold of one hand, and he held out the other towards Addison. She came forward and took hold of it, and Dennis smiled and closed his eyes. Addison felt him squeeze her hand hard, and it looked like he was doing the same on Layla's side.

"I think he's happy," said Addison.

"Me too. Good night, Dad." Layla leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the forehead. They sat with him for a while as he drifted off to sleep.

"Let's go," Layla whispered once his breathing had evened out.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. We've got a party to go to."

By the time they arrived at the beach house, Olivia was in full entertaining mode. It was a small but lively bunch that had gathered in the backyard for Jenna's wake. Jason had cleared some of the overgrown vegetation, and they'd set up a barbecue where the new pizza oven was going to be. Detective Wilcox and Mrs Jones had both provided some outdoor chairs, and Hazel and her husband Martin had brought an esky full of cold drinks. Bella and Charlie were off exploring the rest of the backyard.

"How is he?" asked Mrs Jones once Layla and Addison had joined the circle.

"He's doing okay," said Layla. "He was quite lucid during the service, but then in the car on the way back to the home he asked why Mum hadn't been there."

"He seemed content when we left just now," said Addison.

Layla changed the subject. "Did that woman confess?" she asked Detective Wilcox.

"She did," he replied, handing both Layla and Addison a glass of white wine each before retaking his seat. "It seems she's been pulling the 'remember me in your will' trick for quite a few years. She'd built up a nice little nest egg for herself. We'll be working on getting that back to the families, but it will be a drawn-out affair. She's not going to need it where she's going."

"Was she in there with Jenna when I was outside the gallery?" Jason asked.

Wilcox nodded. "Yes. She said she heard you, and kept quiet until you left."

"Could I…"

"There was nothing you could have done," said Wilcox. "Jenna was already dead at that point. Angie brought a wrench she'd stolen from the nursing home's handyman. She says she only wanted to scare Jenna into giving her the evidence regarding the wills, but things escalated."

"Jenna wasn't easily scared off," said Layla.

"No, I suspect not. Whether Angie went there with the intention of murder or not is up to the courts to decide. But either way, she'll be going to prison for a very long time."

"I can't believe she had me so fooled," said Layla. "I really thought she genuinely cared for Dad."

"I still think she did," said Addison. "Just because she got money out of them, didn't mean she didn't care for her patients. I think she saw a way to use her situation to get a few extra bucks."

"Well it's still manipulating and cold," said Jason. "I'm glad Jenna caught her. I'm just sorry it cost her her life. If only I'd been there sooner."

"We can't live our lives with what if's, Jason," said Addison.

"No, I guess you're right." He got himself another beer from the esky, then turned to Wilcox. "Why did she light the fire? Was that my fault?"

"It had nothing to do with you. After you left she searched for the evidence Jenna had obtained, but was unable to find anything. So she set the place on fire to destroy it, plus any evidence of the murder." He took a sip of his beer and looked at Layla. "She used your blank canvases and methylated spirits to start the fire."

"Well I'm glad you finally caught her," said Hazel. "We don't need drama like this in Getaway Bay. My goodness, Addison, what a welcome you've had."

"It has certainly been eventful," said Addison. "I'm looking forward to settling down now. Speaking of which…" she nodded towards the dilapidated shed in the corner of the yard. "Jason, do you think you could get that cleaned up and structurally sound enough to be a useable space?"

Jason leaned back in his chair and studied the shed. "I don't see why not. What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to turn it into an art studio."

Both Layla's and Olivia's eyebrows raised.

"I've been thinking a lot about this house as a bed and breakfast," Addison said. She spoke mostly to Olivia. "I think you're right, hon. It would be too much work. But I still want company. I want people to cook for and talk to. I don't want to be rattling around in this big old house by myself."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Olivia, frowning now.

"I'm going to run the beach house as a boarding house for writers and artists. They can pay a weekly board, clean their own rooms, and I'll provide food and space for them to work. If they can pitch in around here as well I won't need to hire any extra help, so I can keep the board affordable. They can stay for as long or as little time as they like."

"Oh, Addison," said Layla, clasping her hands together, "I'm sure you'll please a lot of struggling artists with that idea! How wonderful!"

A few of the others murmured sounds of approval, but Addison concentrated on Olivia. "What do you think?"

Olivia beamed. "I think it's a great idea. You'll still have company, but you'll have a lot less work to do. It's brilliant. But I hope you'll still keep baking."

It was Addison's turn to smile. "Well that's the other thing. I was thinking I might ask if a certain cafe in town might like me to bake a few treats for them on a regular basis?"

Hazel's eyes lit up. "Really? You could bake for me?"

Addison nodded. "I'd want to do it from my kitchen here, but I don't see any reason why I couldn't deliver a selection of treats to the cafe every morning. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds just perfect," said Hazel. She raised her glass. "In fact, I'll even drink to that."

Everyone raised their glasses and beer bottles. "To new beginnings," said Wilcox.

"To new beginnings," everyone repeated.

"And to Jenna," said Jason. "May she rest in peace."

"To Jenna," said the group. There was a moment's reflection, and Addison said a silent goodbye to her cousin. She might not have been her favourite person, but Jenna hadn't deserved to die like that. Addison hoped she was enjoying a glass of wine with her mother somewhere.

Charlie and Bella came and joined the circle, bringing everyone back to the present. Charlie took up his position at Olivia's feet, and Bella jumped up onto Mrs Jones's lap.

"Oh, that was the other thing I meant to ask you, Jason," said Addison. "Any chance you could install a dog door for Charlie? I'm getting tired of opening and closing the back door for him all the time."

"Mum!" cried Olivia with delight. "Does that mean we can keep him?"

"Absolutely," said Addison. "I can't imagine the beach house without him. Can you?"

Olivia answered by jumping up and smothering her mother in a hug, almost knocking Addison's chair over. Everyone laughed, and Addison felt surrounded by love. She could picture many nights like this in her future here at the beach house in Getaway Bay.

It finally felt like home.

Note from the Author

Dear Reader,

Addison cracked her first case.

Did you?

Are you ready for a new adventure?

Is Addison ready for another murder in Getaway Bay?

She’d better be. Because the next body isn’t just in Getaway Bay – it’s in her own house.

Addison’s newfound happiness running a boarding house for artists and writers is about to come to an abrupt halt.

There’s a body in the beach house. Is one of her creative guests responsible?

As Addison and Detective Wilcox investigate, the mystery becomes more baffling. Was it suicide, or murder? If it was murder, how did the killer get out of the locked room?

And with all her house guests on the suspect list, who can Addison trust?

If you enjoyed Arson at the Art Gallery, you’ll love The Body in the Beach House. The stakes are higher. The twists are more surprising. And the baked goods will go down a treat.

Continue your journey now:

The Body in the Beach House