Thrown (15 page)

‘It happened in America. The point is, I’ve read a lot of information about depression and anxiety and it is possible for it to be a genetic trait, a misbalance of chemicals in the brain. With my mom taking her own life just a year ago, it makes it statistically more likely that my aunt could have done the same thing. She could have the same condition.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘So if this is true, you could have that same condition yourself.’

‘I’ve battled with depression for most of my life, Detective.’

He thinks for a moment then says, ’The cat angle interests me. We knew your aunt had a cat because one of her friends told us so when we interviewed her. When we couldn’t find Mr…Tibbles?’

I nod. ‘Mr Tibbles.’

‘We assumed he was just outdoors. But if he was put into a cattery the day before the accident, we need to know why and who put him in there.’

‘It was Aunt Beth who put him in the cattery.’

‘Are you sure?’ He pulls a little black notebook and a pencil from the inside of his coat and scribbles a few notes.

‘Yes, she signed the form. I saw her signature myself.’

‘OK, and what is the name of he cattery?’

‘Meow Meow.’

‘That’s in Penzance.’

‘You know it?’

‘With a name like Meow Meow, I’m not likely to forget it. I’ve walked past it many times. Is there a branch near to Promise Cove?’

‘No, Mr Tibbles was at Penzance.’

‘There are places much closer where she could have put the cat. Very strange.’

‘That’s what I told Stoker. It doesn’t fit.’

‘Stoker? Dean Stoker?’

‘Yes,’ I say, surprised that he knows Stoker’s name.

He poises the pencil over the notebook. ‘Tell me more about your relationship with Dean Stoker.’

His sudden change in demeanor makes me wary. ‘Do you know Stoker?’

‘Yes, Dean Stoker is known to us.’

‘Why? I don’t understand.’

‘Dean Stoker has been arrested a couple of time for public disturbance. Fighting.’

I remember the cuts on his knuckles. I had tried to tell myself that he could have got them working on engines.

‘But what interests me more,’ Detective Macbeth continues, ‘is that we interviewed Mr Stoker just after your aunt’s death.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Our lab technicians found traces of engine oil on your aunt’s clothing. At the same time, our officers discovered links between Dean Stoker and your aunt.’

‘Links? What kind of links?’ I can’t believe I’m hearing this and my heart is beating like a hammer in my chest.

‘They had contact on a few occasions.’

‘What do you mean by contact?’

‘We aren’t sure exactly but they knew each other and the oil was enough circumstantial evidence for us to visit Dean. At the time, he had a satisfactory explanation for the oil on your aunt’s clothing. Her car had broken down that day. The exhaust fell off while she was driving along the Sea Road. We have witnesses to that fact. It could explain the oil if she picked up the broken piece of pipe or went to look under her car.’

‘That doesn’t sound like Aunt Beth. She’d call a tow truck.’

‘She did. She called Dean Stoker. He went out there in his Land Rover and towed the car to his garage. He showed it to us. It was parked behind the garage. The silver Volvo you’ve been driving. He’d fixed it and was going to return it early the next morning to your aunt but by then she…

had her accident.’

He shakes his head. ‘So the oil stain could have been picked up from her own car or while she was in Stoker’s Land Rover. He might even have touched her to help her climb into the vehicle. It led us nowhere.’

I’m stunned into silence. Stoker said nothing about this at all.

‘So what is your relationship with Dean Stoker, Amy? It’s interesting that he’s made contact with you.’

Made contact?
What is Macbeth suggesting…that Stoker might have murdered Aunt Beth and is returning to the scene of the crime to see how much I know? I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it. I refuse to believe it.

‘He brought the car back to the house. That’s all. And we had coffee.’

I don’t tell him any more than that.

He writes in the notebook. ‘You say you had coffee. Did he initiate that contact?’

‘No, I just ran into him one morning totally by chance.’

‘Where was this?’

‘On a beach. I was on the cliffs. I just saw him there.’

‘What beach was this?’

The beach where Aunt Beth was found.

I don’t know. I was just out walking.

And Stoker was painting on the beach where they found her body.

Returning to the scene of the crime?

And who suggested coffee?

‘He did. We went to a beachside coffee shop in town.’

‘Sarah’s?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you talk about?’

‘Nothing really, just passed the time of day. Small talk.’

I don’t mention anything else. I feel like I’m betraying Stoker just telling Macbeth this much.

He makes a note then says, ‘Did he mention your aunt in any way while you were there? Did he bring up her accident?’

‘No.’

‘Amy, I’m going to re-open the investigation.’

I sigh. ‘Fine. But I really don’t think Stoker could have anything to do with this.’

‘I’ll let you know the moment we find out anything.’

‘But I wasn’t telling you this because I think Aunt Beth was murdered, I was telling you because I think she committed suicide. The fact that she made arrangements for her cat only fits the suicide theory.’

‘We’ll investigate both avenues. Thank you for the information.’

He leaves the shop and I sit there wishing I had never opened my mouth at all. The police interviewed Stoker over Aunt B’s accident and he never told me, never even mentioned it in passing. I don’t understand what’s going on. Why is Stoker being secretive and what is this ‘contact’

he had with my aunt? I knew there was a connection there when I first met him and he said he had fixed Aunt B’s car as a favor to her. Why?

I’m confused. I feel like I’ve walked into a movie halfway through and I don’t know who any of the characters are or what their motivations are.

And I’ve become very attached to one of those characters.

Just slow down, Amy. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you.

You hardly even know Stoker really. Maybe I’m too attached. These emotions I’m feeling are all new to me and because of that I don’t know how to control them properly.

I need to get to know Stoker better, find out what makes him tick.

But if I dig too deep, am I going to find something I don’t like?

His relationship with Aunt B is like a closed box I daren’t open because I don’t think I’ll like what I find inside. I know I won’t like it.

And if he had a relationship with my aunt then that puts a question mark over his relationship with me. Is he trying to relive what he had with her through me? Do I remind him of her and he doesn’t like the real me at all, just who I remind him of?

I swivel around in the chair thinking about all these questions and what I should do next. Is there anything I can do? I’m falling for Stoker, I know that. Will my emotions lead me down a path to a place where my heart will be broken?

Something on the wall catches my eye. The watercolor painting of the bookshop that hangs on the wall behind the counter. There’s a signature on the bottom right hand corner, painted in black with a flourish.

Dean Stoker.

So he definitely knew Aunt Beth well enough to give her a painting.

Not necessarily, maybe she commissioned it. Come on, Amy, don’t try and fool yourself. They had some sort of relationship.

Which makes my relationship with him seem very false. In fact, it’s fair to say that Dean Stoker is lying to me.

How do I always end up in these situations where matters of the heart are concerned? All my life I don’t feel any spark with anyone and then when a guy comes along who
does
make that spark happen, it’s all a lie.

It’s like a cruel joke. I feel like closing the shop, going home and going to bed and burying my head under the covers.

But I can’t do that. I have to keep Promise Books open for Aunt B. It isn’t her fault. She never knew any of this was going to happen after she was gone.

So I stay. I sit quietly behind the counter while my mind races over what Detective Macbeth told me and what Stoker
isn’t
telling me. It’s like everything is going on around me and I’m stuck in the middle of it all just letting it happen.

No more. I can’t just sit here and take it. I won’t have my emotions flung about like they don’t mean anything to anyone.

I storm to the door and flip the sign so it says ‘Closed’. I’m not going home to wallow in self-pity; I’m going to Stoker Autos to confront Dean Stoker. I get into the Volvo and gun the engine, almost stalling it as I pull out into the road because I bring the clutch up too fast.

It’s time for answers.

And Stoker is going to give them to me.

PART THREE

STORM

CHAPTER TWELVE

Break

Amy

I won’t cry. I won’t. Not until I know the truth about Stoker and my aunt and whether everything he has told me has been a lie. As I get into the Volvo, heavy rain starts to fall from the sky, as if it will shed the tears I refuse to. It bounces off the windshield in big drops and I turn the wipers on as I realize that I don’t know the way to Stoker Autos. I know the address but not where it is so I turn on the Volvo’s GPS and type in the address. A woman’s voice tells me to do a one eighty and turn around.

For a moment, I consider doing just that and not confronting Stoker at all.

I could just go back to the shop and forget this. Why spoil what we have between us?

But I know that this question, the question of what exactly happened between Stoker and Aunt B, will haunt me forever if I don’t find out the truth. As long as I know the truth, I can handle it and try to deal with it.

Not knowing if Stoker is lying to me is eating me up inside.

I follow the GPS instructions out of town and along the road that leads to Stoker Autos. How could he not have told me the police interviewed him about Aunt B’s death? That means they actually thought he could be a suspect. And Detective Macbeth’s words seemed to suggest that Stoker

“made contact” with me to see if he got away with the crime. My own thoughts are along the lines that Stoker had some sort of intimate relationship with Aunt B and is now only with me because I remind him of her.

I see the garage up ahead in the pouring rain and I pull off the road and stop the car in front of the reception door. Rushing in through the door to avoid the rain, I still get soaked immediately. Inside the small reception office, I ring the bell on the counter to get someone’s attention.

A man in his fifties comes into the office from the garage. He’s wearing blue overalls and his hands are covered in streaks of oil. There’s definitely a family resemblance between him and Stoker. This must be Max.

‘Can I help you?’ he asks, wiping his hands on a rag.

‘I’m looking for Stoke…Dean. Is he here?’

He shakes his head. ‘He took the afternoon off. It’s quiet.’

‘Oh. Do you know where he is?’

‘The beach maybe. Or Penzance. I’m not sure.’

‘Thanks.’ I’ll call him, find out where he is. I turn for the door.

‘Miss?’

‘Yes?’

‘Are you Beth Anderson’s niece?’

‘Yes, I am.’

He hesitates as if he’s not sure how to follow up his question then says, ‘I’m sorry about your aunt.’

‘Thank you, Mr Stoker.’ I rush across to my car and get in quickly.

My hair sticks to my face in long wet tendrils which I push out of my eyes. I’m sure my makeup must be running down my face. Great. Just what I need today on top of everything else. I dial Stoker’s number on my phone and he picks up straight away.

‘Hey, Amy.’

‘Hey.’ Will he be able sense the coldness in my voice? I’ve returned to my usual numb self. I don’t want to but the survival mechanism kicked in when I was a little girl and has been with me ever since is protecting me from my emotions. ‘Where are you?’

‘I came by the bookshop earlier but you were talking to someone so I went for a drive. I’m at the beach. Not working today.’

Talking to someone. Yes, I was talking to Detective, Macbeth, the man who interviewed you about my aunt’s death. ‘You’re at the beach in the rain?’

‘I’m sitting in the car.’

‘What you doing?’

‘Just thinking.’

‘About what?’

‘You.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. Are you OK? You sound…I don’t know.’

‘I need to speak to you, Stoker.’

‘Just come to the beach. The one I showed you. Do you know the way?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘I’ll see you soon.’

I hang up and start the car. As I pull away from the garage and look in the rearview mirror, I see Max Stoker standing at the window of the reception watching me.

*

The dirt road takes me to the parking area by the secret beach. The last time I was here, I felt so happy being with Stoker and visiting the Cave of the Mermaid with him but now a seed of doubt has been planted in my mind and I can’t halt its growth. I don’t want to have this conversation with him, I really don’t, especially after our relationship leaped forward at Le Chambre but I know this has to be done. I’m hoping Stoker will have answers to my questions that will kill my fears and let us continue on as we have been.

I want that so bad but I’ve had enough disappointments in my life that I never expect good things to happen. I stop my car next to his and look at him through the rain-streaked window. The wet ribbons of water running down the glass distort his face as he looks at me. My phone buzzes. A text from him.

‘My car or yours?’

‘Yours,’ I reply. If this goes bad and I am in his car, I can just open the door and leave. If he is in my car, I would have to get him to leave.

It’s easier if I go to his.

I open my door and get into his car as quickly as I can but the rain still drenches me. I close the door. Stoker is wet too. He must have been on the beach when the rain started.