The Investigator (24 page)

Folding her arms across her chest, Kate pressed her lips together. “I could have told you that. I picked it up from Mom’s emails over the last few months before she stopped corresponding.”

“Did she say anything specific?”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you think I would have told you—?”

He reared back and held up his hands. “Whoa, I wasn’t implying—”

“It was more what she didn’t say,” Kate interrupted him, the indignation fading from her face. “She knew I didn’t like Darryl. She was always trying to make me see him in a better light, like she could change my mind about him. She’d share things they’d done together and tell me how lucky she was to have him.”

Her voice drifted off. Riley watched a myriad of emotions chase each other across her face.

“Then, there was nothing,” Kate continued quietly. “The last couple of months, she didn’t mention him, apart from telling me she was cutting him out of her will. She didn’t elaborate on her reasons, but it was obvious things between them weren’t good. I was relieved she’d finally given up trying to convince me he was a saint.” She sighed.

The anger and tension slowly released her from its grip. Her shoulders slumped. She sat down beside him.

“I’ve said this before, but he’s responsible for whatever happened to Mom, Riley. I know he is.”

Riley nodded and reached for her hand. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“I found out yesterday Darryl’s been involved in police corruption. At least, that’s the way it looks.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head. “I can’t tell you any more than that. I’ve handed it over to Internal Affairs. Of course, it doesn’t make him a murderer, but it does say a lot for his character.”

Kate’s eyes grew huge as they absorbed the ramifications. “We need to find her.”

CHAPTER 20

Kate glanced across at Riley’s strong, sure hands where they gripped the steering wheel. He’d phoned her from the station after locating an address for Detective Sergeant Barry Bloomfield, now retired, and a half hour later he’d collected her outside her motel room.

The morning sun filtered through the windscreen and into her eyes. She’d forgotten her sunglasses and now pulled down the sun visor to shade her face. Her skin wasn’t used to exposure to the harsh Australian sun anymore, even a milder winter sun. Riley shot her a look and noticed her hands were clenched in her lap.

“Hey,” he coaxed. “Try and relax. I know it’s easier said than done, but we have the best part of a couple of hours, yet. I hope you don’t get carsick because some of this road twists and turns like a rollercoaster and it’s pretty steep.”

Kate managed a small smile. “Don’t worry, Detective. I promise I won’t ruin your immaculate squad car.”

A grin tugged at his lips. She wished she could see his eyes behind the Ray Bans as his head tilted toward the detritus of takeaway food packets, chocolate bar wrappers and soda cans that littered the floor beneath her feet.

“Hey, I’m not the only one who uses this car,” he protested. “The fingerprint guys will be able to tell you most of it belongs to Chase.” He flashed her another grin. “I’ll be exonerated and then you’ll have to tell me how sorry you are for besmirching my character.”

Kate grinned back, thankful for his attempt to distract her. Her gaze lingered on his crisp white shirt and navy-blue suit pants. A dark blue-and-gray striped tie was knotted around his neck. She’d noticed a navy suit jacket lying flat across the back seat when she’d climbed in. He’d obviously dressed for the occasion and she couldn’t help but feel pleased he’d made the effort.

Apart from the good impression it was sure to make on Daisy Bloomfield, she got to drink in the sight of him in business attire—she’d always been partial to a well-cut suit. With his broad shoulders and narrow hips, his good looks were only intensified.

Heat stole into her cheeks and she turned her face away and stared out of the window before he caught sight of the tell-tale blush and started drawing his own conclusions.

She thought of their last kiss and her heart picked up its rhythm, but it was excitement, not fear that caused it. The feeling was so new to her, she wondered at the reality of its existence, but she couldn’t deny it was there.

She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel his lips on hers and his muscular arms drawing her in against his chest. He made her feel safe, protected, loved.

Loved
? Was she out of her mind? He didn’t love her and she sure as hell didn’t love him. She barely knew him. Just because he was the first man who’d made her forget about her past for a while, that didn’t mean the tumultuous feelings went any deeper than a fleeting physical attraction. And even if she yearned for things to be different, if he ever found out about her childhood, he’d never look at her with desire again.

With that thought firmly in the fore, she pushed the faint spark of hope that things could be different to the furthest recess of her heart and vowed to focus on what was really important: finding her mother. Talking to Daisy Bloomfield was at the top of the list.

* * *

Riley glanced at the navigation system mounted on the windscreen and made a left turn. According to the GPS, the Bloomfield house was right in front of them, at the end of a cul de sac lined with modern mansions and manicured lawns.

The Bloomfield residence was equally impressive. A two-story, cement-rendered structure painted mushroom gray, bordered by a high-walled fence in the same finish, stood tall and imposing at the end of the street. A pair of black wrought iron gates guarded the entrance and provided a glimpse of vast, winter-yellowed lawns and tidy garden beds. Parking the car at the curb, Riley glanced over at Kate.

“Looks like it pays to be a police officer—at least, a retired one. My pay packet sure as hell wouldn’t buy this kind of lifestyle. Between this house and Darryl’s, it’s hard to tell which one of them is doing it tougher.”

“So you think Bloomfield might have been involved in corruption, too?” Kate shook her head. “I can’t believe my mother wouldn’t be more discerning. She lived with Darryl for twenty years.”

Riley grimaced. “Perhaps Darryl didn’t let her anywhere near the finances. At least one person I spoke to told me Rosemary had no real money of her own. She relied upon Darryl for everything. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that he liked that power and didn’t enlighten her about his earnings.”

“I guess so. I was too young to remember how things worked when I lived with them, but I can remember Darryl would pay for things when we were out, like shopping and movies and stuff. If I needed money for school activities, it was always Darryl I would have to ask.”

Riley ignored the bitterness that had seeped into her voice. The more he came to know her, the more he accepted she probably had good reason for her animosity. His own run-in with Darryl had been distasteful enough. He couldn’t imagine living under the same roof as the prick—and being under his control. Riley’s mind shied away from other, more sinister, possibilities.

“We’d better go in.” He pointed with his chin to the security camera fixed to a tall pole near the gate. “From the look of the security system, they probably already know we’re here. No need to have them setting the dogs on us.”

Kate nodded. Her lips tightened and her skin turned a shade paler.

“I’ll do the talking, okay?” he told her. “After all, this is a police investigation.”

“Okay.” The word came out shaky, but there was steely resolve in her gaze.

Lowering the car window, he pressed the button on the security intercom. They didn’t have to wait long before it was answered by the cultured voice of a woman.

“Yes?”

“It’s Detective Munro from the Watervale Police. I’m here with Kate Collins. She’s the—”

“I know who she is. Please, come in.”

The gates slowly opened and Riley drove the squad car up the short graveled drive. The scent of orange blossoms wafted toward them from the direction of an early flowering Murraya tree that stood near the three-car garage, its branches laden with glossy, green foliage and thick white flowers.

The front door opened before they reached it and a real-life version of Daisy Bloomfield’s Facebook photo stepped out onto the wide porch to greet them. Riley knew from her Facebook profile she was fifty-three. The age sat well on her face, despite the uncertainty that shadowed her pale blue eyes.

He reached for his jacket and climbed out. Kate alighted without his assistance. Together, they joined Daisy on the front steps. The older woman assessed Kate with frank curiosity before a small smile turned up her mouth.

“You look even prettier than in the photos Rosie showed me. The color of your hair—like wheatgrass dancing in sunlight—no photo could do justice to that.”

Kate blushed. Daisy lifted tentative fingers to her auburn locks, carefully styled in a short layered cut that ended just above her shoulders. She shrugged a little self-consciously. “I used to be blond, but I would have no hair left if I’d kept up with the peroxide treatment my hairdresser told me was required to stay that way. I eventually decided on this.” She touched her hair again and offered a wry grin.

The whisper of a smile graced Kate’s face and then disappeared behind uncertainty. Riley knew how she felt. His gut had started churning the minute he turned onto the street. This woman could hold the key to understanding Rosemary’s disappearance.

He cleared his throat, impatient to get on with it. “Do you mind if we come inside, Mrs Bloomfield? I have a few questions I’d like to ask.”

“Yes, of course. And call me Daisy. Everybody else does.”

After settling them onto an enormous burnt-orange leather sofa that looked like it cost more than a couple of months of Riley’s wages, Daisy left them for a few moments to speak to the housekeeper about organizing coffee.

Riley glanced around the room—tasteful and elegant, yet simply furnished. The off-white walls housed a scattering of original paintings of Australian landscapes. An uncluttered cedar coffee table stood a comfortable distance from the sofa and a huge flat screen TV took up a fair portion of one wall.

Riley’s gaze met Kate’s and her raised eyebrow reflected his own. It was obvious there was plenty of money in retirement for this ex-police officer. Unless it had come from Daisy.

The woman in question fluttered in a short time later, the myriad of diamonds on her fingers catching the mid-morning sun as it filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, sending a shaft of refracted color across the walls.

“Nellie won’t be long. She’s just pulled a tea cake from the oven, so you’re in for a treat.” She smiled as she took a seat on the sofa not far from Kate, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Riley leaned forward. “Daisy, we know you’re friends with Rosemary Watson.”

“I-I guessed that’s why you’re here, Detective.” Her gaze went between him and Kate. “How did you know?”

Kate cleared her throat and Riley let her answer.

“I’ve been through my mother’s emails. The last one was from you. It was a simple matter to find you on Facebook.”

Daisy sighed. “Facebook. Yes, of course.” Her lips compressed. “If you’ve read her emails, then you must know she was planning to leave.”

Riley nodded. “That’s how it sounded, but we wanted to talk to you about it. Obviously you and Rosemary are close.”

Another sigh escaped and Daisy slumped against the sofa, squeezing her hands together until her knuckles showed white. Her voice was strained when she spoke again.

“Yes, we are. From the moment we met, we clicked. You know… We have so much fun together. It’s like we’ve been friends forever.”

Riley eased his notebook and pen out of his shirt pocket. “Where did you and Rosemary meet?” he asked.

A fond smile tilted Daisy’s lined lips. “We met at the Police Ball in Lismore a couple of years ago. I assume you know Barry’s a policeman? Well, was,” she added. “He retired last year.”

Riley nodded.

“The Ball’s held at the Country Club every year,” Daisy continued. “You’ve probably even been to one yourself, Detective?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Daisy. I haven’t been in town long.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure you will. A good-looking boy like you will be in real demand on the dance floor.”

Riley blushed and averted his eyes, not daring to give as much as a glance in Kate’s direction. Clearing his throat, he steered the conversation back to safer ground.

“You met Rosemary at the Ball. Is that where your husband met Darryl?”

“Oh, heavens no. They’ve known each other for years. They were at the Academy together.”

Riley digested the information. Of all the people for Rosemary Watson to befriend, it was the wife of a man who’d known her husband forever. “Did Rosemary know?” he asked.

Daisy shook her head. “Not at the time. I assumed Darryl had told her. It wasn’t until I mentioned it in conversation a few months after we’d met that I realized she had no idea.”

“How did she react?”

“Well, naturally, Detective, she was surprised. I was probably just as surprised she didn’t know. Not that it made a difference to our friendship. Our husbands had both been in the service for many years. They know hundreds of fellow police officers.”

They were interrupted by a woman in her mid-forties, bearing a tray laden with a silver service coffee pot, matching cups and a plate of freshly baked cake that smelled of cinnamon and sugar. The woman placed the tray on the coffee table and turned to Daisy.

“Will that be all, Mrs Bloomfield?”

“Yes, thank you Nellie. We’ll serve ourselves.”

The woman departed as silently as she’d come and Daisy leaned forward and picked up the silver pot.

“Coffee, anyone?”

“Yes, thanks,” Riley replied and Kate murmured her assent. They’d been on the road most of the morning and it had been hours since he’d quaffed a short black at the station.

As soon as Daisy had dispensed cups of steaming black coffee and offered slices of tea cake, Riley got to the point.

“It’s clear from your emails Rosemary confided in you about her desire to leave Darryl. Do you know why she wanted to leave?” He heard Kate’s indrawn breath and knew she was as anxious for the answer as he was.