Sleight Malice (11 page)

“Desley, can we
please talk?”

Her gaze didn’t
waver from the computer screen. “Isn’t that what we’re doing,” she said, her
fingers continuing to tap the keyboard.

“No.” He
couldn’t care less if the hyperlink colors were green, blue or pink with purple
spots. His hand hovered for a moment over her shoulder. Withdrawing it, he
moved to the side of the desk. “Please let me explain.”

“Explain what?
Why I must’ve been out of my mind to think I could trust you in the first
place? Forget about it; we all learn from our mistakes.”

Her curt tone
didn’t sound like forgiveness. Did she mean she wouldn’t make the same mistake
twice?

He squatted
down to her level. “Yes, we do. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I knew DS Mitchell,
but it wasn’t because I was trying to deceive you. When Kim rocked up here with
Grant that first day, she made out she didn’t know me. I knew she must’ve had
her reasons, so I just played along.” He shifted position, redistributing his
weight. If only she would look at him. “It was Grant, not you, who she wanted
kept in the dark. Grant and I have history. Kim’s worked hard to get to where
she has. She saw no need to bring our association into the mix. You’ve seen
what he’s like.”

Desley’s dark
eyelashes flickered.

“About Kim and
I—”

“Please don’t,”
Desley said, holding up a hand, glossy crimson fingernails flashing. “It’s
really none of my business.”

“I want to tell
you,” he said, bouncing back on his heels as he felt the bite of his hamstrings
cramping. If he didn’t move soon, he might never stand straight again. “It’s
not what you think. Five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

One long blink
later, Desley met his gaze, her hazel eyes guarded. For a second, he thought
she was going to refuse, but then her head moved in a slow nod.

“But I need
caffeine first,” she said, abandoning what to him looked to be a screen crammed
with indecipherable code. She paused at the door. “Are you coming?”

He didn’t need
to be asked twice. He would’ve spun on his head singing Waltzing Matilda if
that’s what it took to make it right again. His good intentions had backfired.
Had he stopped long enough to think it through, he would’ve seen betraying
Desley’s confidences could never be acceptable. Under any circumstances.

Fergus loitered
near the kitchen entrance, keeping out of Desley’s way, while mentally
rehearsing what he wanted to say. The hiss of the espresso machine helped cut
the awkward silence, the familiar aroma of superheated coffee almost lulling
him into believing nothing had changed.

In the living
room, she sat at the farthest end of the couch, her feet together on the floor
and not curled under her, as was her habit. She held herself ramrod straight,
eyeing him over the rim of her coffee cup. She wouldn’t be an easy audience.

“First,” he
said, “I am truly sorry if I have let you down. Regardless of what my reasons
were, it won’t happen again.”

She didn’t look
convinced.

“I’m not making
excuses… just trying to explain…” he said, groping for words, his rehearsed
spiel all but forgotten. “Kim’s a good mate, nothing more. We met at a Police
Association Christmas function years ago. Sure, we had a bit of a thing for a
while, but it didn’t last. She’s a great girl, but I felt as if I was dating my
sister. The chemistry, for want of a better word, just wasn’t there. Kim agreed
and we parted amicably. No dramas. We’ve stayed in touch. From time to time,
she’s asked me for a favor and vice versa. Friends.”

“Your
relationships – personal or otherwise – aren’t the point here, Fergus. Do you
get a buzz out of playing both sides? What did you hope to achieve? Are you
trying to get me locked up?”

“Far from it!
As difficult as you may find this is to believe, I was actually trying to help
you. And to a point, it’s worked—”

She cut him
off. “How? By throwing suspicion on my ex-husband?”

“No, you’ve got
it all wrong. When Kim started sharing – begrudgingly, mind you – information
about the case with me, it was on the proviso that I never revealed my source.”

Desley bowed
her head, breaking eye contact.

He blundered on,
needing to finish. “Of course the information had to be quid pro quo. Friend or
not, she wasn’t prepared to put her career on the line without something in
return. I know you aren’t involved in Laura and Ryan’s disappearance. I know
you didn’t belt Selena over the head. But sometimes, it’s the smallest detail
that breaks a case. Nothing I passed on implicates you.”

Desley
stretched forward, setting her empty cup on the dice coffee table. Her
dragonfly tattoo peeped out from under the edge of her purple scoop-neck top,
retreating again as she sat back.

He took a swig
of his now lukewarm coffee, hoping Desley would take the opportunity to say
something. Anything. Only women could use silence as a weapon.

“So that makes
it okay, then?”

What did he
have to do? Get down on his knees and beg forgiveness? He took a deep breath
and shook his head. “No, it doesn’t, but we can’t change the past. All I can
do,” he said, laying a hand over his heart, “is promise you it won’t happen
again.”

Her chest rose
and fell in an inaudible sigh, her shoulders sagging. He saw the scars of past
hurts welling in her eyes. She blinked and stood up. “I’ll keep that in mind,”
she said, her mask back in place. “Now, I have work to do; your website isn’t
going to design itself.”

But before she
could leave, Fergus caught her by the wrist. She started, glanced down at the
fingers holding her captive and then at him, questioning.

“Does this mean
you don’t want me passing on what I learn about the police investigation?”

Her fingers
bunched beneath his grip, but she didn’t try to pull away. Her skin felt cool
under his hot palm, and though he could feel a faint pulse, he couldn’t be sure
it was hers.

Sensing her
dilemma, he made it easy for her. “Another person of interest has surfaced—”

“A suspect?
Who?”

“If you sit
down, I’ll tell you.”

“Why didn’t you
say something earlier?” She perched on the front edge of the couch. “No, don’t
answer that,” she added, in response to his raised eyebrows.

“Anything I
tell you has to stay in this room.”

“Yes, yes,” she
said, her circling hand urging him on. “I know how to keep secrets.”

A pointed dig
at him, he knew. But how far would she go to protect a secret? Did she know
more about what was going on with Laura than she had let on? Wasn’t it what
women did, confide in their best friend?

“How much do
you know about Ryan’s background?”

Desley frowned.
“You said the police had a new suspect—”

“Not suspect,
person of interest. This man had business dealings with Ryan in the past. I was
just curious to how well you knew him, that’s all.”

“Not as well as
I wish I did. If you’ve been digging into his past, you probably know more than
I do. Tell me about this sus… person of interest.”

“I will after
you answer my question.”

Her mouth
twitched. “Seriously, Fergus, don’t you think that if I knew anything, I
would’ve already told you?”

He waited.

Sighing, she
closed her eyes. “Okay. The life and times of Ryan Moore as I know it. Never
married.” She ticked off a finger. “No children that I’m aware of. Spent some
time in his early twenties traipsing around the world – don’t know for how
long.” Three fingers up. “Settled in Melbourne on his return. Started up a
graphic design and print business, which obviously didn’t pan out. Worked his
way up through the ranks at Geary and Associates. Met Laura about four years
ago, fell in love and well, you can fill in the blanks.”

“That’s it?
That’s all you know about your best friend’s partner?”

“I’m afraid
so,” she said, an apologetic undertone to her voice. “Ryan should’ve been in
politics. He’s a past master at saying a lot without revealing anything. It
frustrated the hell out of me initially, but Laura didn’t seem bothered. She
assured me that he was like that with everyone and just a really private
person. Opposites attract, they say. She loved him, so what did it matter what
I thought?”

If Desley had
been a man, he might have believed that, but experience told him females didn’t
let go that easily.

She read his
expression. “Don’t look at me like that. At least I checked him out on the
Internet – unbeknownst to Laura, of course. Do you know how many Ryan Moores
are out there? Thousands. I didn’t find any mention of him on datingpsychos.com
or the like, though. Besides, in all the time Laura and Ryan have been
together, she’s never complained about anything more serious than him leaving
his clothes on the floor.”

“Some women I
know think that’s a mortal sin,” he said, managing to raise a weak smile from
Desley. “My mother mainly.”

“Sounds like my
mother.” Her voice distracted, she touched the back of her left wrist as if
checking for a watch.

“We can talk
later, if you have somewhere you have to be.”

“Sorry, what
did you say?” she asked, her focus back on him.

He repeated
himself. Where had her mind been?
Close to home or further afield?
he
mused.

“Nothing that
can’t wait,” she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Now spill. A
promise is a promise, after all.”

Fergus leaned
forward, his folded arms resting across his knees. “You were right about the
graphic design business, if you call going into liquidation not panning out.
But it’s not quite as simple as that. Far from it. Ryan lost his initial
capital, but his business partner lost everything: the business, his marriage,
his children, his home, his self-worth – the lot. What’s worse he didn’t read
the fine print properly and unwittingly indemnified Ryan against all debts.”

Desley’s eyes
widened, her lips parting slightly.

“He blamed Ryan
for ruining his life,” he continued, “but of course, there wasn’t a damned
thing he or anyone else could do about it. From everything the guy’s ex-wife
says, he started drinking himself into a stupor every day, wouldn’t leave the
house and generally cut himself off from the rest of the world, including his
wife and two young sons.”

“Revenge…” Desley
said, half-question half-statement.

He shrugged.
“It’s one theory.”

“Well, could he
have done it? Could he have been involved in setting fire to Laura and Ryan’s
home? Could he have then abducted them and used Ryan’s four-wheel-drive to
flee? He would’ve had to have an accomplice, though,” she said, sounding more
like she was thinking out loud than talking to him. “How else would he have
been able to overpower two adults? But then perhaps something went wrong and
his accomplice was killed.”

“Anything’s possible,
but they still don’t have a lot to go on. Ryan’s old business partner hasn’t
been sighted for more than a month, way before the fire,” he said as he watched
Desley doodle figure-eights on the coffee table with her index finger. “Until
the body can be identified or they come up with fresh leads, it’s all
speculation.”

She paused and
looked up. “And the dead man couldn’t be Ryan’s missing ex-partner?”

He shook his
head. “No. His ex-wife assured Kim that he’s never been in hospital, let alone
had a hip replacement. DNA tests will no doubt confirm her statement.”

“How soon
before they have the details of the hip replacement? You did say they could
track the recipient from the serial number, didn’t you?”

“That’s the bad
news,” he said, sitting back up. “The serial number relates back to a batch
manufactured in 1988. Unfortunately, details on that particular batch have gone
walkabout. The company is sifting through its data now. They feel confident the
records haven’t been destroyed, just misplaced.”

Desley stared
at the floorboards beyond her boot-clad feet, clicking her manicured
fingernails. “Trent was right when he said he wasn’t the only one with a grudge
against Ryan.”

Fergus didn't
say anything.

“Let’s just
say,” she continued, her gaze still fixed on the floor, “if it's Ryan’s
ex-partner who’s out to get him, why go after Laura? What has she done to him?
She wasn’t even part of Ryan’s life at the time.”

“Nothing
probably, but it’s unlikely this guy is thinking rationally. Think about it:
thanks to Ryan, he lost his wife and everything else he held dear. Or at least
that’s how he saw it. He’s had years to stew on the injustice of it all. Maybe
he wanted Ryan to know what it felt like.”

Desley jumped
up. “None of this makes any sense.” She crossed the room to the sliding glass
doors, turned and faced him. “Why would he take both Ryan and Laura? If he
wanted to get back at Ryan, wouldn’t the guy just abduct Laura, leaving Ryan
not knowing what’d happened to his beloved? Wouldn’t that hurt more? Or if his intention
was to kill Ryan, why the need to drag an innocent person into it?” She paused.
“What did you say his name was?”