The Investigator (4 page)

Her thoughts returned to the detective. Anger reignited inside her. He was no better than the rest of them. He’d treated her with barely disguised disdain. The wall of blue—solid, impenetrable, impassable.

Bastard
.

She thought he’d be different. The sound of his honeyed tones on the end of the phone had lulled her into believing it was possible and when she’d seen him, the genuine warmth in his eyes had given her hope. He’d looked open, friendly, willing to listen—nothing like the policemen she’d grown up around.

But then he’d started the interview and the illusion had disintegrated to ashes. He was exactly like all the rest. Despite his pretty boy looks and his killer smile, he’d paid her lip service and had done squat. And then he’d taken the insult even further—he hadn’t even pretended to believe her.

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She padded out of the tiny bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed. It squeaked in protest, but she lay down anyway, too tired to care. At least the heating worked. The room was pleasantly warm, cozy even. Clad only in her underwear, she curled up in a ball and replayed the afternoon’s events.

He’d known she lied about calling Darryl. She’d seen it in his eyes and in the subtle turning down of his mouth. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to build up the courage. She just hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it. Each time she picked up her phone to dial Darryl’s number, panic had stiffened her fingers and nausea had choked her throat.

Even now, congealed fear moved in the pit of her stomach, sliding with insidious intent through her veins. For almost a decade and a half, it had been ever present inside her, but from the moment she realized she’d have to return to Watervale, it had intensified into cold, stark terror.

Rage exploded inside her, white-hot and searing. She hated the power he still held over her. She thrashed against the feelings of helplessness and panic, rolling across the bed with her arms locked hard around her waist. She wasn’t a child anymore. She wouldn’t let him best her. Not again.

Never again.

Fierce determination surged through her. Pushing herself upright, she reached for her phone before her courage withered. Her heart hammered against her chest. She could almost smell her fear.

She’d do it. For her mother’s sake, she had to. It was obvious the police weren’t going to help her. Just as she’d always known, she was on her own. She dialed his number with fingers that trembled.

* * *

Riley strode through the doorway of Watervale’s local drinking establishment and waved to Sonia from across the room. Although there was a golf club on the hill that catered to a more upmarket clientele, he preferred the dimness and casual camaraderie of The Bullet. Besides, he could always catch up with Sonia here. She worked the bar four nights a week. Her friendly brown eyes lit up as he approached.

“Hey, there,” she greeted him. “How was your day? It looks like you could do with a beer.”

He smiled his thanks and pulled out a stool, resting his elbows on the bar. “You know me so well.”

“Not as well as I’d like to.” She winked and her gaze lingered on the open expanse of skin at the base of his neck and then moved lower. “I’m always happy to extend our acquaintance.”

He grinned and returned her once-over. The low-cut black top she wore was covered in sequins that sparkled under the overhead lights, drawing attention to her generous cleavage, as it was no doubt meant to. A short black skirt molded to a sweet ass and was complemented by a pair of black fishnet stockings.

They’d first swapped stories over the scarred wooden bar on his second night in Watervale and Riley couldn’t deny he’d felt a spark of interest. It had been months since he’d parted ways with Iris. His ego might have taken a bruising, but he was still a man with physical needs that he’d ignored for far too long.

Sonia’s cute button nose and spontaneous smile was just the medicine he needed after the uptight austerity of his ex. Iris had even controlled their most intimate moments, directing the how and where and when until most of the fun and all the impulsiveness had been taken out of it. Looking back, he couldn’t believe he’d put so much time and effort into the relationship. He almost felt sorry for the man she’d left him for.

Pushing the memories aside, he picked up his glass and took a healthy swallow. The beer was cold and refreshing and slid easily down his throat—a welcome feeling after the day he’d had.

Images of Kate Collins immediately clamored for attention. She was beautiful, in a cool ice-blonde untouchable way. But then she’d gotten angry and her controlled facade had cracked. Passion, albeit anger, had flamed in her eyes—eyes so wide and blue he’d felt lost in them. Even now, the thought of her made his pulse race. His response to her hadn’t helped his objectivity and that had irritated him all evening.

“I see you made it out of there, after all. You certainly smell a lot fresher.”

Riley glanced up as Chase pulled out the empty stool next to him and ordered a beer.

“Yeah, it didn’t take as long as I thought.”

“So, what was the story? They found the old girl wandering down the road, right?”

Picking up his glass, Riley took another swallow. “Nope, nothing like that. The daughter took offence to my manner and stormed out of the office before I could do more than cover the basics.”

“Sounds like you’re losing your city-boy charm. Maybe the women of Watervale have started to catch on?”

Riley ignored Chase’s jest. “For your information, she’s not a local, although she did spend most of her childhood in town.”

Chase looked curious. “Really? I’ve lived here all my life. Who is it? I might be able to shed some light on her.”

“Kathryn Collins. Goes by Kate.”

Chase frowned. “Kate Collins. Can’t say I remember her. How old is she?”

“She’s a couple of years younger than you, but she says she left town ten years ago. Her mother’s married to Commander Watson.”

Chase’s eyes widened. “Kate Watson? Christ, is she back in town? I wonder how she turned out? I had a hard-on for her all through high school. She was a real looker!”

Riley bit back an instinctive protest. “Yeah, well nothing much has changed. She’s a looker all right.”

Sonia placed a schooner of beer in front of Chase and hovered close, making no attempt to disguise her interest in their conversation.

Picking up the glass, Chase nodded his thanks and took a sip before turning back to Riley. “So, Kate came in to report her mother missing?”

“Yeah, but she went further than that. She thinks the commander’s murdered her.” Riley shook his head. “Can you believe it?”

“She always was a bit of a drama queen,” Chase replied. “I was a couple of grades ahead of her at school, but I remember her having a reputation for being a bit of a troublemaker. She was always getting into strife with the principal, Mr Savage. Not that it mattered to me. With looks like hers, she could get away with anything. Besides, old man Savage was a bit of a jerk.”

Chase nodded toward Sonia. “You remember Kate Watson, don’t you? You were in the same class. What do you think she was like?”

Glad for the invitation to participate in their conversation, Sonia leaned across the bar. Her breasts in full view, pressed provocatively against the wood.

“Kate Watson. Yeah, I remember her. She took off halfway through the eighth grade. Never saw her after that. It was right before the athletics carnival. Most of us were glad. It meant at least some of us had a chance at winning a ribbon or two.”

“She was an athlete,” Riley stated, raising his eyes from Sonia’s chest.

She shrugged. The movement sent her cleavage wobbling. Riley braced himself, half-expecting the bountiful flesh to spill out onto the bar.

“I guess so. She wasn’t competitive or anything. You never saw her training. But she was fast. She used to win all the sprints.”

“What was she like in school? Did she have many friends?” Riley asked.

Sonia looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I guess she did. Like Chase said, she was really pretty. A lot of the girls didn’t like her. Mainly because of that, I think—jealous, most of them. She was always popular with the boys.” She gave Chase a pointed look. “Not that she paid them any attention. She kept to herself a lot of the time. You’d best talk to Cally Savage. She knew her better than anyone.”

Riley turned to Chase with a raised eyebrow. “Any relation to the principal?”

Chase nodded slowly. “Yeah, his daughter. I remember Kate used to hang around Cally a bit. Before Kate took off.”

“Where can I find Cally?” Riley asked. “Is she still in town?”

“No, she fell pregnant at sixteen,” Chase replied. “Not a good look for the principal of Watervale High who was forever preaching morals and the art of restraint. So, he threw her out. She lives in Armidale, now. As far as I know, she’s attending university over there. Or maybe she’s finished…” Chase shook his head. “Hell, I can’t remember, but her father’s still in town. He might even still be the principal. Her mother died a few years back. Cancer, I think.”

“Where does he live? I’ll give him a call. It might help if I can talk to his daughter. It would be interesting to know what made Kate Watson leave town and when she changed her name to Collins.”

Chase drank the rest of his beer and set the glass back down on the bar. “Yeah, sure. The Savages live over on the eastern side, on Jackson Avenue. They live in the nicer part of town, not far from Commander Watson. Wait until you get a look at some of the homes over there.”

Sonia scoffed. “Homes? That’s like calling the White House a bungalow.”

Riley frowned, barely listening. “I’m not sure what’s going on with little Miss Collins, but I got the impression something’s not quite right. I’m going to get to the bottom of it, whether the blond ice queen likes it or not.”

Surprise lit up Chase’s features. “Ice queen? You can’t be talking about the same Kate Watson? That girl was pure fire.”

* * *

Kate gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white. The call connected and her stomach catapulted downward.

“Yes?”

His voice was exactly as she remembered. Bile rose in her throat. She bit her lip and tasted blood.

“Who is it?” he growled.

She barely heard him over the rushing sound in her ears. Memories overwhelmed her as he had years earlier. But he wouldn’t this time. Not again. She wouldn’t let him. Her voice was ragged when she finally got it to work.

“Where is my mother?”

“Well, well, well. The prodigal child has returned.”

The sly malice in his tone hit her like a physical blow. Fury flooded her veins.

“Don’t go quoting biblical bullshit to me, you sanctimonious bastard.”

“
Tsk, tsk, tsk.
That’s no way to speak to your father.”

She was on fire. Her forehead. Her ears. Her cheeks. Her throat. She was going to combust from the heat of her anger. “You’ve never been a father to me.”

“Maybe not, but I’m the only one you’ve known and surely better than the useless hobo that fathered you.” Unlike hers, his voice remained calm, unruffled, as if they were discussing last week’s weather.

The derogatory reference to her father scorched her heart. She bit down hard on the moan of despair that ripped through her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d wounded her.

Her fingernails bit into her palm. Her breath came fast. She dug deep to find the strength to fight him.

“Tell me what you’ve done to my mother, or I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

Derisive laughter grated against her ear. “My dear, dear Kathryn, you of all people should know there is no God.”

CHAPTER 4

Riley traced yet another blue, felt-tipped circle around the name he’d written on his blank, yellow legal pad.

Darryl Watson
.

Despite his best efforts over the weekend to forget about the woman who’d attended upon him at the station late Friday afternoon, he’d spent the nights since tossing and turning while a kaleidoscope of images had tumbled through his mind. Even a Sunday spent browsing the paintings on exhibition at the local art gallery hadn’t been sufficient to remove her from his thoughts.

If anything, gazing at the myriad of colorful artworks had only served to heighten her presence in his mind. She’d told him she was a successful art dealer. He wondered how a girl who had run away from home at fourteen had managed such a feat.

It was mid-morning, but the station was quiet, as usual. Crime in the picture-perfect town of Watervale ran from the non-existent to the merely mundane: the occasional domestic disturbance, the odd drunk driving charge and now and then a break and enter. No one could remember the last murder, or if there had ever been one.

The letters on the page mocked him in their blue-biro boldness. He should call Watson and get it over with. It wasn’t like Riley was going to make any accusations against the former commander. He wasn’t stupid. He’d learned something from the fiasco in Sydney.

The easiest way to sort things out was to speak with the man in the best position to know. He still couldn’t work out why Kate hadn’t done that. It’s exactly what anyone else with nothing to hide would have done.

With an impatient shake of his head, he pushed aside a couple of files on his desk and reached over to pick up the phone. After punching in numbers, he listened as it dialed out. It was answered on the third ring.

“Yes?”

The voice was deep and well-modulated and brought to mind expensive cigars and single malt whisky.
Power.
Sudden nerves tickled the back of Riley’s throat. He coughed to clear it. The situation was delicate. The man on the other end of the phone was a decorated police officer. Riley was the new kid in town and still reeling from a run-in with his former superiors.

“Commander Watson?” Riley used the former title out of respect.

“Yes.”

“It’s Detective Munro from the Watervale Police. I’m sorry to call you, sir, but I’ve had a report that your wife might be missing. I was wondering if you could bring her to the phone.”