There was a small huff from Ceefer. Hettie ignored it, as both she and Belle gave Stuart their full attention.

  “There are several items unaccounted for according to her family. A laptop, thumb drive, and a watch and necklace that she would have been wearing. Her key for the Airbnb where she was booked is missing, and her room appears to have been searched as well. The car keys were left in the ignition.”

  “The thumb drive may have been meant for me,” Belle told him, “if it had her research on it.”

  “It sounds as if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Hettie said. “Her death may have been accidental, but the killer then took the opportunity to try and cover it up and get what they could from it.”

  “Sounds like a very cool customer,” Stuart commented.

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “Does Alicia have family in Perth?” Belle asked.

  “Her daughter is a Master’s student at UWA. We contacted the husband, and he gave us the girl’s contact details.”

  “Did she identify the body?” Stuart nodded. “The poor girl,” she said softly, echoing Hettie’s thoughts.

  A brief knock on the interview room door sounded and it opened to reveal Grayson Fox.

  “A quick word please, Sergeant,” he said, without a glance toward Hettie and Belle.

  Stuart clicked off the recording on his phone and went out, closing the door behind him.

  “I hope I don’t have to repeat it all again,” Belle said. “Even if he is handsome.”

  “Hpff.”

  “I thought you liked him, Ceef?” Hettie said surprised.

  “Mroff.”

  “On the fence? I see. I feel a bit the same way.”

  “Is he seeing that woman he brought to your mum’s charity auction?” Belle asked.

  “Anna Noble, the police sergeant? I’ve no idea,” Hettie replied willing herself not to sound as if she cared. She didn’t really. She had no intention of starting that relationship up again. It was just - well - it would be a nice boost to her ego if Grayson at least showed some interest in wanting to.

  “Hpff.”

  Hettie was startled. She hadn’t spoken aloud, had she? Surely that cat couldn’t read minds as well. Heaven help them if that was one of his hidden talents.

  “Well, you’ve got another admirer in this Sergeant, anyway,” Belle said. “Have you noticed how he’s trimmed up a bit lately? Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s getting ready to make his move.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed how he looks at you?”

  “How he… That’s ridiculous.”

  There was a snicker from beneath the table. You too?

  “And sharing information the way he did.”

  “He shared that with you too if you remember. Honestly, Belle.” Hettie found herself at a loss for words.

  “He’s a bit of a hunk himself, you know,” Belle said. “Not in the same league as Grayson, but a better choice if you’re looking for something long term.” She shifted restlessly in her seat. “I’m sure they make these chairs uncomfortable on purpose.”

  “More than likely,” Hettie agreed. “Could we please change the subject now? I’d hate to think they can hear what’s being said in here the way they do on police TV shows.”

  Belle giggled. “Oops.” A few more minutes dragged by. “Have you done anything about the Open Day?”

  “Vi and I settled on the food and the date,” Hettie told her, glad for a safe subject. “Sunday in four weeks, sausages, burgers, ice cream trucks, and coffee and cake in the Cafe.”

  “Coffee and cake in the Cafe at the Croquet Club with a cat called Ceefer,” Belle all but sang. “It certainly has a ring to it.”

  “Don’t repeat that in George’s hearing,” Hettie warned, “Not unless you can add something about the Bowls Club in there. I’m in bad enough with him as it is.”

  “Burgers and balls at the Bowls Club with…? she hesitated, searching for something beginning with a ‘b.’

  “A big dog called Brutus?” Hettie offered.

  Belle laughed. “Sandra Alberts would like that anyway. We could encourage people to bring a pet.”

  “You volunteering to clean up afterwards?”

  Ceefer snickered.

  “And then again, perhaps not.”

  They were both laughing when the door to the interview room opened again and Grayson came in, followed by Stuart.

  Chapter Five

  A Commission for Belle

  It was Grayson who took the chair on the other side of the table. Stuart remained on his feet.

  “Sergeant Higgins has filled me in on your interview,” he said, his tone formal. “Thank you for providing that information, Ms. Danvers. I may have some more questions for you, though, Hettie, but we can leave that until later.”

  Hettie felt a nudge as Belle’s leg met hers and did her best to ignore it. Grayson cleared his throat. Had he noticed the movement? She felt the warmth spreading over her face at the thought their conversation might have been overheard.

  “I need to ask a favour of you, if you wouldn’t mind,” Grayson said. He cleared his throat again. “Alicia Feldhurst’s family would like to visit the cemetery where she was found, and they are also wanting to meet the person who found her. I was hoping you might be amenable to combining those two tasks, Hettie. It would be a help if you could.”

  Grayson was asking a favour of her in an investigation? To say she was surprised was an understatement.

  “Um, yes, I guess. What is it you want me to do, exactly?”

  “If you could escort the Feldhursts to the cemetery and answer any questions they may have about finding her. This isn’t about you investigating the death,” Grayson said. “I must stress that. This is strictly about providing a little support and help for the police, as we are stretched right now.”

  “I understand.” But if she did learn anything – and quid pro quo. “Has the autopsy been completed?”

  Grayson raised an eyebrow but answered. “It has. There was an injury to the head consistent with hitting one of the gravestones, likely the result of a fall, and a stab wound to the neck.”

  “Someone who’d come prepared to kill?” That seemed to put an end to her earlier theory of an accidental death and an opportunistic killer.

  “It’s possible. I’ll introduce you to the victim’s family members now,” Grayson said, clearly feeling he’d imparted enough information.

  “I would like to meet them too,” Belle said. “Alicia did engage me to write her family’s story.”

  “I’ll introduce you both,” Grayson said. “The family members are Alicia’s husband, Jackson, and their daughter Keira. They’re in the waiting room.”

  Stuart went to fetch them. Jackson Feldhurst was a medium height, blue-eyed, blonde-haired fifty-something, with a ruddy face that spoke of an outdoors occupation. Daughter Keira must have taken after her mother as there was no resemblance to Jackson. Sadness and a sense of unreality seemed to emanate from them. It was hardly surprising.

  After the introductions, it was decided that Hettie and Belle would drive to the cemetery in Belle’s car, and the Feldhurst’s would follow in theirs. Hettie didn’t have Ceefer’s short leash with her, so settled for tying off his walking leash to the seat belt fastening with just enough length for him to curl up on the seat.

  “They looked numb, poor things,” Belle said, as they headed out of Rosny and across the Cygnet into Woody Lake. Numb, yes. Trust a writer, ghost or not, to come up with an appropriate word, Hettie thought. “I feel awful for Alicia,” she went on, “and I didn’t even find her body.”

  “You did speak to her though, and more than once I imagine,” Hettie said. Belle nodded. They left Jersey Street and headed out of town. Hettie glanced behind and saw the Feldhurst’s black SUV following.

  “You’ve been involved with several nasty deaths lately,” Belle said. “How do you deal with it?”

  “I try to think of it as a puzzle.”

  “Does that work?”

  “Not really,” Hettie admitted.

  Ten minutes later, it was a silent group that made its way up the hill to the cemetery. At least the crows had gone, but police tape hung from a tree, and another length hung over the metal railing around the Parke grandparents’ graves.

  Hettie didn’t think there’d been enough wind since Saturday to cause that. Had some ghoulish sightseers visited? Belle collected the tape from the graves area, as Hettie explained how they’d found Alicia’s body, and where she’d been buried.

  Jackson murmured a ‘thank you’ and Keira knelt and placed a bouquet of wildflowers on the spot Hettie had indicated. Hettie stepped away and glanced at Belle, who nodded. They quietly made their way back down to the cars leaving the couple to grieve in private.

  “Someone should have a word with the police about littering,” Belle said, as she threw the ball of yellow tape onto the back seat of her car, earning a sharp retort from Ceefer. Belle apologised to him, and Hettie let him out and gave him some water.

  “I don’t know why they can’t just roll it up and take it with them when they’ve finished,” Belle went on, clearly on a roll herself. “You should mention it to Grayson. I mean, how difficult would it be to roll it up on their way out?”

  “You’ve got a point, but I’ll leave you to bring up the subject, if you don’t mind.”

  They sat in the car and chatted until the Feldhursts came back down.

  “Thank you for waiting,” Jackson said, as Hettie and Belle got out to meet them.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you?” Hettie asked.

  “I want the story told,” Keira said. “The story Mum was wanting to write about her grandmother. It’s the least we can do for her. Would you still be available for that?” she asked Belle. “Whatever arrangement you had with Mum, we’ll honour it.”

  “I’d be happy to do it,” Belle said. “We had a contract. I can give you a copy of it, and you can decide if you want to go ahead, or there’s anything you would like to change.”

  “No, I don’t need to decide,” Keira said, fiercely. “Whatever Mum arranged with you will be fine. I just want it done.”

  Belle nodded. “Your mother didn’t have a chance to give me the material, though. The police told us a laptop and thumb drive, were missing from her belongings.”

  “Yes. Her research was on both. The thumb drive was what she was going to give you,” Keira said. “But she gave me a copy too, for safekeeping. In case her laptop got stolen, she said. She has it all up One Drive anyway, but she didn’t feel safe away from home. If only… Do you think that’s what it was? A theft that went wrong? It just doesn’t make sense. Did someone follow her? Why didn’t they take the car? I mean…who would be out here?” She gave a wave of her hand at the empty countryside. “I’m just so mad. It doesn’t make sense,” she repeated.

  “The police are doing their best,” Jackson said, seemingly helpless in the face of his daughter’s anger and grief.

  “I hope so. I just need to be doing something. Here.” Keira pulled a small object from her pants pocket and handed it to Belle. “Here’s the thumb drive Mum left with me. I hope it has everything you need.”

  “I’ll look through it today,” Belle said, taking it.

  Keira nodded.

  “What connection did your mother have to the Masons who used to live here?” Hettie asked. “I know about the two Mason boys who drowned in the Cygnet River over a hundred years ago. I imagine they were buried in this cemetery.”

  “That’s what Mum thought too,” Keira said. “Her grandmother was the boys’ sister. One of the problems Mum told me she was having with her research was the conflicting information she’d uncovered about those early years. She hoped you’d be able to sort it out for her,” she said to Belle. “A fresh pair of eyes.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Belle told her.

  “You couldn’t help?” Hettie asked. “I don’t know what you’re studying at uni.”

  “Not history, or genealogy,” Keira replied. “I’m majoring in economics.”

  “What was your mother planning to do with her grandmother’s story once it was written?” Belle asked. “Did she just want it for the family?”

  “She was going to have it properly printed and give the required deposit copies to the State Library, as well as to the Denmark library.”

  “I see.”

  “Well,” Jackson said awkwardly. “Thank you again for your help. Everyone has been so supportive. We really appreciate it.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Keira said. “Can I give you my mobile number, Belle? We’ll be staying in Perth until we can take Mum home for the funeral.”

  “The police should have some answers by then,” Jackson said.

  “Keira’s right,” Hettie said, as they left the cemetery. “It doesn’t make sense. Are you sure Alicia came here on her own?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Belle told her. “She could have had half a dozen people with her for all I know.”

  “They left the car though. If she was killed by someone who was with her, they would have driven away in it, one would imagine. It really does look as if someone were setting it up as a missing person situation.”

  “But the police would have found her when they’d searched the area. I mean, you did.”

  “We certainly did,” Hettie replied, “but the person who buried her probably wasn’t counting on the gases and rigor mortis resulting in her arm moving and the fingers poking through the soil. If that’s what happened.” The thought that Alicia may have lifted her arm in one final movement before she finally died didn’t bear thinking about.

  Belle shuddered. “Enough with the details.”

  “I wonder if it was Jackson. What if he followed her in his own car, thinking this would be a good opportunity to get rid of his wife far away from home, and make him the least suspicious?”

  “Wow,” Belle said, admiration in her voice. “That’s not bad, Hettie. You should try writing mysteries.”

  “The police will look at him first, anyway. They may already have discounted him.” Hettie pulled out her phone and googled Feldhurst Denmark. “There’s a Feldhurst Landscaping Company in the town,” she said scrolling quickly. “Jackson and Alicia are the owners. And it’s a four-and-a-half-hour drive to Denmark, so a nine hour round trip, an hour, perhaps two, to do the job depending on how soon after arriving Alicia went to the cemetery.”

  “Probably around mid-day Friday, or early afternoon, according to the phone call I got from her,” Belle said. “It could be done.”

  “Yes, it could.” She hoped for Keira’s sake that it hadn’t been, but the most dangerous people were those closest to you.

  Belle dropped Hettie and Ceefer off at her door, promising to let her know what she found on the thumb drive Keira had given her.

  Chapter Six

  Marlee Provides a Suspect

  After seeing Violet and Ceefer off to the Cafe next morning, Hettie sat at the kitchen table with her laptop and a fresh coffee. She had a study at the back of the house, but she preferred to work in the kitchen. For one thing, it was more convenient to the kettle and the coffee jar, and for another, the bright front rooms were her favourite place in the house.

  The kitchen was open to the dining room and living room, creating one welcoming space with views across Old Dairy Road to the park and lake, the Sunny Vale Retirement Centre, and the Parke Bowls and Croquet Club. She hadn’t been called in to take a class, so she was free to work on the details for the Club Open Day.

  Violet was dealing with the food requirements, but that was just one item for a successful event. She needed members available to give lessons and take visitors around the courts for a game. And an exhibition match between players from the State team, to show off the skills involved and the fun you could have, was always a drawcard. It gave people something to aspire to, and the realisation you didn’t need to be athletic to be a top croquet player. A video of an international competition playing continually in the clubroom would draw attention to what could be achieved as well.

  Then there was the opening of the new courts. She’d invite the Croquetwest president to perform that, with a suitable speech. All the other clubs would have to be informed of the event, too, and she needed to speak to George Engles, the sooner the better. She added those items to her list along with a note to update the Club website and review the current handout before sending it to the printer.

  Whew. She needed Romola’s help. If they could present a finished plan and timetable to the Committee on Thursday evening it would save a lot of to-ing and fro-ing, and time they didn’t have. She tidied up her list and sent it to Romola in an email, asking for input, and any ideas on who could do what. That done Hettie sat back. She could safely leave it with their Club secretary for the moment, efficient woman that she was. Time for another coffee.

  As she put the milk carton back in the fridge, her phone rang. Taking a quick restorative sip, she looked at the screen. Marlee’s name appeared.

  “Hettie, how are you? You wouldn’t believe, but I knew that woman we found at the cemetery,” Marlee greeted her when Hettie answered the call.

  “You did? Well, I guess that’s not surprising. She would’ve spent time in the Battye researching her family history.”

  “What? No, I knew her when I was a teenager. She was a friend of Sophie’s, my sister. They were at school together.”

  “My goodness, really?”

  “I know. That theory of six degrees of separation always seems to be more like two or three in Perth. Well, it used to be, thirty years ago anyway. Perth’s population has doubled in that time. We’re over two million now.”

  “So, you knew Alicia Feldhurst back then,” Hettie said, pulling Marlee back onto the subject. She had a habit of going off track and spouting information on a side matter.

  “Yes. Of course, her name wasn’t Feldhurst then. It was Alston. She wasn’t a nice person, either. Always ready with a nasty comment. Sophie thought she was funny, but she wasn’t on the receiving end.” And you were, Hettie surmised. “I bet I know who killed her too,” Marlee said. “Roddy Wallace.”

 

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