Surfboards and Suspects Page 4

  A cover story. An interview with a traitorous best friend.

  Because Alyson Foulkes only had one thing to say.

  “Claire did it.”

  6

  Oh, this was it. This was really it. She had gone too far this time, and Alyson Foulkes had gone plenty far before. I turned on the shower to try and wash away some of the no-good, horrible day, but it wasn’t getting any hotter.

  “Hey!” I yelled out into the living room. “Has the gas been disconnected?”

  Bianca wandered down the hall and rolled her eyes before quietly whispering, “No, it’s just that our house guest keeps helping himself to four hot showers a day.”

  Ugh. That boat could not set sail soon enough. I turned off the tap and gave up.

  Bianca had some thoughts on the Alyson situation. Like everyone else in Eden Bay, she’d read the newspaper. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe she is just trying to cover up her own guilt?”

  She lounged back on the sofa with a tall glass of iced berry tea in her hands and her sunglasses still on, a bathing suit on with a pair of shorts over the bottom.

  I didn’t say much, just pulled open the salad drawer to make dinner. But Bianca wouldn’t stop her theorizing.

  “Think about how many strange things have happened over the past year, and hasn’t Alyson Foulkes been involved with pretty much all of them?”

  “That is ridiculous, Bianca,” I said, feeling annoyed. I was trying to get my head clear and she was just making it cloudier.

  She sat up straight. “Well, what if you got the wrong guy the first time and it has been Alyson ever since?”

  Roger’s ears pricked up and he looked over at me for my reaction. There was dead silence in the overheated apartment.

  I wasn’t sure I subscribed to the theory that my best friend was a serial killer who had been on the loose for a year, right under my nose, and I hadn’t even noticed that anything was up.

  But I did have to admit that she was the only one on the ship that night. And until I had proof that there was another single soul who could possibly have done it… Alyson had to be my prime suspect.

  I mean, she’d turned on me. So wasn’t it time for me to turn on her?

  Had it really come to this? Was this the end of our friendship—for good?

  A train would have been a life-saver right then, but they were working on the tracks heading north to Sydney and above, and I had already spent too much money on rental cars over the past few months.

  So I was left studying the bus schedule, trying to make heads or tails of all the interceding lines and trying to figure out which route I needed to take and where I needed to change in order to get to Silverwater Prison.

  Just when I was about to give up and decide that walking would probably be the quickest route, a car pulled up beside me

  It was Michael. Ugh. Of all people.

  He called out to me through the open window. “You look a little lost.”

  Part of me wanted to ignore him entirely. He didn’t seem that thrilled to see me either, but he had pulled over and stopped so he was at least attempting to be nice.

  “Why do you have a car?” I demanded to know. After all, he arrived in town by boat.

  “Rented it,” he said with a shrug. “Is that a crime?”

  None of the cruise ship passengers were supposed to leave town. I moved closer to the window. “You’re supposed to stay in Eden Bay.” We were right on the outskirts and from the speed he had been originally traveling and the direction he was headed, I knew he was leaving. If he tried to tell me he WASN’T about to leave, I wouldn’t believe him.

  But he just held my gaze. “And so what? I’m not a prisoner, am I? I’ve got some business I need to take care of up near Sydney.”

  “That’s where I’m headed. Well, nearby at least.”

  He smiled at me. “Well then, I suppose I’d better give you a lift then.”

  It was almost perfect. Almost. Apart from sharing a car with this guy.

  But I accepted. We took off at a sped so high I didn’t even notice the “You’re Leaving Eden Bay” sign.

  <<< INSERT SECTION BREAK ??? >>>

  “I didn’t want to be stuck on a bus for hours,” Michael said as we cruised up the freeway. He sounded annoyed about the train being out of service. “Highly inconvenient.”

  “The trains are usually pretty reliable,” I said, automatically jumping to the defense of the Eden Bay transport infrastructure. I wasn’t even sure why.

  “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t that keen on being stuck in Eden Bay in general. It feels good to be free.”

  Once upon a time, I had understood that desire. Greatly. When I was a teenager, all I wanted to do was to escape Eden Bay and get to the city. But right then, I was sorry to be leaving. It was only under duress that I was. It wasn’t like I was going for a picnic. I was going—quite literally—to a prison.

  Michael glanced over at me. “I read the paper yesterday. You don’t look like a killer to me. Just for the record.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Hey, I meant it.”

  <<< INSERT SECTION BREAK ??? >>>

  “So what do you need to go to the prison for?” Michael asked me when I’d been quiet for almost ten minutes. What I wanted was to put my earbuds in and listen to my podcasts, but I was worried that might be a little too rude considering this guy was given me a free lift. “You got a family member in there or something? A boyfriend?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. I just shook my head and told him that none of my family were behind bars and that I didn’t have a boyfriend at all, let alone one behind bars.

  “Oh.”

  That said, it wasn’t as though the man behind bars didn’t have any personal connection to me at all. “He was actually my favorite teacher when I was at school,” I said. “And I was his favorite student.”

  Michael gave me a little side glance. “It must have been hard for you to put him behind bars then.”

  Why did people keep putting it like that? Like I was personally responsible? Anyway, I knew exactly what he was getting at.

  “It was hard, actually. That was why I needed to be completely sure that he was guilty. And I WAS sure.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows. “And yet you’re traveling a fair way to double-check that fact.”

  The plan had always been for Michael to drop me off at the prison and then for him to keep driving to his appointment in the city. I’d already told him that I would find my own way back and that he didn’t have to come by on his way back to get me. But as we pulled into the parking lot, I gulped as I saw the barbed wire and the security gates. Michael hesitated before starting the car again.

  “Maybe I should come in with you. Men’s prisons can be pretty tough places.”

  I didn’t like the insinuation that I couldn’t handle it. Or that a men’s prison was any worse than a women’s. Or that I was in any way fragile or in need of his protection. I didn’t need his protection. But I also kind of did want someone to come in with me.

  But still, I shook my head and said no, I would be fine.

  Michael still hadn’t started the car. “Hey, I’m kinda interested myself now… Kinda feel like I’m in a spy novel.” He shrugged. “I’d like to come in. See how this plays out.”

  I knew that he was only saying that to make it seem like this was his decision and not just him feeling bad for me. I highly doubted that he was much of a spy novel reader—or much of a reader at all. He looked like your typical surfer dude, even with the shaved head. I stopped putting up a fight. “Well, okay then. But this is my investigation. So you’ll have to sit back and observe.”

  “You’re the expert.”

  <<< INSERT SECTION BREAK ??? >>>

  “Claire. It is so good to see you.”

  Well, I was not expecting that reaction from Mr. Carbonetti. And certainly not those words.

  “Don’t you blame me?” I asked frankly as he sat acr
oss from me. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and his stubble had gone completely gray. His once dark hair was following suit.

  Mr. Carbonetti looked at me with tired eyes and shook his head. “It was the police who did it, Claire. And the judge and jury.” Okay, finally, someone was making sense. At last. “And I know you would never mean any malice towards me, Claire. You and I always had a special relationship.”

  I shifted a little uncomfortably. I could feel Michael shooting me a look when that was said. There had never been anything untoward between me and Mr. Carbonetti. It was purely a student/teacher relationship.

  “So you’ve heard what happened?” I asked. “In Eden Bay. Another murder of a surfer.”

  He nodded. “Of course. News travels around here pretty fast.”

  I nodded. I was sure there were ways.

  “Wel,l you were here all this time,” I stated, as though that was just a fact. I’d been through the security check-in—this wasn’t a place you could just duck in and out of.

  He gulped a little and didn’t seem at all sure of the answer. “Well, um… That’s a little difficult to answer.” He cleared his throat.

  What the… Well now, this was not what I was expecting to hear.

  I leaned forward. “What? Mr. Carbonetti? Were you in the prison on the day of the killing or not?”

  Mr. Carbonetti stared down at his hands. “Last week, my mother died.”

  “Oh. I am sorry to hear that.” In spite of everything that he had done, I felt like that was the right thing to say. Losing a parent is horrible no matter what.

  “And I was allowed permission to leave. For the day. But— But I was under complete supervision the entire time.”

  I interrupted him. “What day?”

  “Thursday.”

  I stared over at Michael.

  The day Dan Millen had been killed.

  And the funeral for Mr. Carbonetti’s mom had taken place in Eden Bay.

  Michael was full of adrenaline by the time we got back in the car and on the road. I wasn’t even sure he knew which way he was was going. He was just driving. “Can you believe this?” he asked, hitting the steering wheel. “So, this means the guy did do it!”

  Well, I wasn’t entirely sure we should jump to that conclusion. “It’s just very interesting timing, that’s all,” I said, staying cool. Michael was an amateur. He didn’t know that you had to stay completely cool until you had all the facts.

  But yes. The timing was uncanny. No one could argue that it was actually an insane coincidence, and my mind was working overtime to make sense of it. All I wanted to do was to call Alyson and tell her the strange news. Did she already know?

  “You’ve gone awfully quiet,” Michael commented, and some of the excitement had dropped out of his voice by that stage as well.

  “It’s just that Mr. Carbonetti was right,” I said as we made the turn off into the city and I realized that I was going to Sydney with Michael whether I intended or wanted to. “He would have been under guard all day. There is no way that he escaped long enough to come to the beach, kill a man, and then return, without anyone even notice he was gone. What, did he say he was ducking out for a bathroom break and no one even questioned it?”

  That made Michael go quiet as well. “Hey, I suppose you’re right,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Darn. So where does that leave your investigation? Back at square one?”

  I supposed so. Or close to it, at least.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we drove right through the city and over the harbor bridge onto the North Shore. A familiar spot to me. The place I used to live. The place I used to work. We were near the movie studios and offices I had once called my home away from home.

  I got an eerie feeling in my stomach as Michael turned up a familiar street and stopped in front of a large glass-fronted office. I had been there once before when I’d had to meet a director about a script. Not the offices of the production company that I had worked for, but a different one.

  “I thought you were a surfer…” I said, a little uncertainly as we climbed out of the car.

  Michael shrugged casually. “Surfing is just something I do in my spare time. In my main time, I make movies,” he said with a grin.

  “Er, you know I used to work in film production too?” I asked him. It was almost uncanny. I stepped out of the car and followed him in through the glass doors and inside the lobby.

  “You’re kidding,” he said, and he sounded genuinely shocked. “So what are you doing running a bookshop in a small town?”

  “Well, that is a long story—” I said as we pushed through the doors of the elevator and were quickly interrupted by someone Michael knew who was surprised to see him there. He laughed and told the woman that he’d had a change of plans.

  The doors opened on the fifth floor and we stepped out into an office that overlooked a botanical garden. The whole room was full of sunlight.

  “This is my office while I am in Sydney. I didn’t expect to be back here quite so quickly, but I suppose I’d better make the best of a bad situation.”

  Geez. I was impressed. I sat down on the other side of his desk while he fetched us some drinks.

  “So,” he said as he handed me a glass of whiskey—my favorite as well. I hadn’t even told him. It was like he read my mind. “You were going to tell me a long story.”

  I told him all about how I had left film production behind when my grandma had passed away to come back and run her old shop in Eden Bay. “It’s not like books aren’t my life. They are. I’ve even written one of my own. A murder mystery. Based on a true story.”

  “And so you are happy in Eden Bay.”

  “I really am,” I said with a contented smile. Though there was still a hint—just a hint—of nostalgia for the old life that I still felt I was missing. Maybe Michael picked up on it.

  “You know we do a lot of book to film adaptions,” he said.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s what we do best, actually.” He stared across the desk at me. “Let me read your book.”

  7

  A call from an unknown number came through the next morning when I woke up in my hotel room. All paid for by Michael. I didn’t want him to think that I was taking advantage of his money and hospitality. I just wasn’t sure that it was safe for me to go back to Eden Bay.

  I didn’t recognize the number and so I didn’t pick it up.

  Michael had arranged to meet me in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It was a glorious morning, but I was mostly just grateful to be in an eatery that hadn’t completely sold out of food. There was a buffet on offer with every kind of pastry, fruit, cereal, and muffin I could devour. We took a seat outside on the terrace with plates piled high and hot espressos beside us.

  “The book was amazing,” Michael said. “Full of intrigue. An incredible ending. It would make such a great movie, Claire.”

  I took another slice of rockmelon and glanced over to my side, not giving too much away. The harbor was beautiful that morning with the soft white foam bubbling on the blue as boats glided over it. A stunning view. Though still not as nice as the views in Eden Bay, I decided.

  I didn’t want to get too excited about it. After all, I knew that books were optioned for movie and TV adaptions all the time and most of them never actually made it to screen.

  But Michael was not going to give up no matter how hard I made it for him to impress me. “Claire, you’d be perfect to work in this with me. Not only are you the author of the book, but you’ve also had experience in film production. Who better to bring your book to life than yourself?”

  You know that saying about how when things seem too good to be true, they usually are? Well, this was all just sounding too good. Far too perfect. So I just gulped down my espresso and wiped my hands without giving him an answer. It was time to get back to reality.

  “I wanted to speak to the guard that accompanied Mr. Carbone
tti to his mother’s funeral that day. But apparently, she is in New Zealand. So…”

  “She?” Michael asked, sounding surprised as he interrupted me.

  “Yes,” I said wryly as I grabbed my purse and finished off the last of my breakfast mimosa. “Women can survive in men’s prisons, you know. Contrary to prior belief. So I am going to have to go back to Eden Bay and speak to the funeral director directly. See what he has to say.”

  “You really didn’t have to drive me all the way back,” I said. “I could have taken the bus.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t put that punishment on my worst enemy.” Michael stopped the car near the pavement in the one free space we could find after circling the block several times. “Besides, I had to come back to Eden Bay eventually.”

  Yeah, but he hadn’t been planning on coming back for a few more days. I did feel a little guilty about it.

  “You want me to come in with you?” he asked me.

  “I think I need to do this one on my own,” I said before thanking him again as I shut the passenger door and walked down the block towards the funeral home. And I felt weirdly like I was walking away from a date. And I also felt weirdly sad, as though I was walking away from something I already missed. I glanced back over my shoulder, but he was already pulling away.

  I walked into the funeral parlor and introduced myself by my full name to the short man standing behind the front desk. It was so quiet in there that the silence choked me.

  Glenn was a man of fifty years of so with a mostly bald head apart from a few stray strands of hair clinging on for dear life.

  “Oh, you’ve got some kind of nerve being in here, don’t you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Well. Apparently, this lovely gentleman recognized me from the newspaper. So you could just go and thank Alyson Foulkes for that. Further, he thought I was showing up at the funeral of the man everyone now thought I’d killed—because that was what was getting ready to happen in this parlor.