“That wasn’t necessary for you to bring it back. We do like to check it every visit but missing this one won’t hurt.” Adele accepted my offering regardless. “Is everything okay? You look a little lost.”
“Well, the thing is, I thought I saw a woman come in here, but now I don’t know where she’s gone.”
“We have a lot of women here. Can you be more specific?”
“She was wearing jeans, white T-shirt and a black cap. But she might have taken the cap off, I’m not sure.”
Adele looked around her. “Sorry Molly, I’ve been in with Lara for the last few minutes. I haven’t noticed anyone like that here. Is it important you find her?”
Hmmm, I hadn’t thought it through, had I?
“She was sitting at Café by the River when I saw she dropped...” Bugger, what did I have she could have dropped. “$50. Yes, she dropped a $50 note and I thought ‘wow that’s a lot of money. I should follow her and give it back’.”
Adele recoiled. “But that café is on the other side of town!”
“Ahuh.”
“Well, that’s very honorable of you.”
“So, you haven’t seen her?”
“Sorry, but if I do, I’ll give her your phone number, shall I? That way you can work out a way to return the money to her.”
Bugger.
I trudged back to my car wondering how the heck I could have missed her but buoyed by the idea that I’d wait for her to return to her car. However, the green wagon was no longer in the carpark.
Shit.
I crossed amateur sleuth off my imaginary resume and made a note to get back to editing the photos from Mercedes I’d been paid to do. At least that was something I was good at.
****
“I really like that one,” stated Lizzie.
“You don’t sound like you really care all that much,” I threw at her, smoothing the skirt of the dress I was trying on. We were in the women’s wear section of Westport’s one and only department store. Lizzie was squashed in the corner of the cubicle as I twirled in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, the privacy curtain drawn behind me.
“What gave it away?”
“Your monotone.”
“Yeah well, I’ve never really loved shopping.”
“Then why did you agree to come?”
“You said it was baby shopping, and I got excited. If you’d told me we were clothes shopping I would have stayed at home.”
“Maternity clothes are baby shopping,” I stated, adamant.
She shook her head, her wild curls bouncing around the shoulders of her pale blue shift dress. She’d covered her neck wound with a silk scarf I’d found in the back of my wardrobe, and she insisted everything was healing nicely. We have an appointment with the plastic surgeon booked for next week to see what they could do about the scarring. Until then my collection of scarves was going to be getting some use.
“I thought you meant cute little bitty baby clothes.” She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
“We can do that next. First of all, I need clothes. My jeans are already getting uncomfortable.”
“Don’t you have any dresses you can wear?”
“Sure, but what better excuse to buy new clothes can I ask for?” I grinned, deciding she was right about the current dress I was trying on, and I needed to buy it.
“I heard about the outfit grandma wore to her date the other day. Did it really look as bad as it sounded?”
My grin matched hers. “Yeah, but somehow she rocked it.”
“It must be a confidence thing. I couldn’t wear it now and I’m more than fifty years younger than she is.”
I slipped out of the dress and back into my shorts, allowing my shirt to hang loose over their band. “Ted asked her out on another date, but I talked her into wearing a dress for the next one. She looked relieved.”
Lizzie let out a bark of laughter, following me to the cash register, where I loaded my five new outfits on the counter, and waited for a shop assistant to finish serving another customer.
Searching for my wallet, I noticed my phone flashing from the depths of my bag and hurriedly retrieved it. It was caller unknown.
“Hello,” I sang, hoping it wasn’t a telemarketer. I’d already had one of those today who got quite upset when I refused to give to their cause. I tried to explain I already had a monthly donation in place with the RSPCA, the World Wildlife Fund, and the Guide Dogs Australia. If I donated any more, I would have to rent out my apartment and move back home with my parents. That was not an option.
“Tell your boyfriend to back off this case or there will be consequences.” A muffled voice danced down my spine.
“Pardon?”
“Tell Matt to stop investigating the case he’s working on.” The synthesized voice was eerie, the tone chilling.
“What, what case?”
“Tell him to leave the hospital records alone!”
I gulped. Matt told me he’d been checking hospital records after the whole blood group thing. “How do you know he’s doing that?” I bravely asked. It wasn’t brave. It just sounded that way. The facts were I had to cross my legs in order not to wet myself.
“I know his every move. I know your every move. He needs to leave it alone now or there will be consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” My knees started to shake, and I leaned my hip against the counter for support. Lizzie frowned and mouthed ‘who is it?’
“If he doesn’t leave well alone then you will end up in the morgue lying alongside Paul Pritchard.”
I gulped and a little bit of wee came out.
The line went dead before I could respond.
“Are you okay?” Lizzie asked, taking my arm and leading me to a nearby seat.
Sucking in a few deep breaths, I attempted to stop the heart palpitations beating their own tune behind my breastbone.
That was scary.
As I recounted the phone call, Lizzie speed dialed Ed Helms, and handed me the phone.
Ed took the call very seriously, and by the time I asked him if the tracking device I’d found in my handbag was related to the caller, he was ready to have a police officer shadow me twenty-four seven.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I explained. “I no longer have the tracker because I gave it to Matt, so the caller doesn’t actually know where I am anymore. If the two are related that is.”
I could hear Ed grind his teeth despite the phone connection not being the best.
“Molly, I don’t need to remind you what recently happened to Lizzie.” He gulped. “I don’t want a repeat of that.”
“Me either.”
“Did you get the license plate number of the green wagon?” he asked.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “No. I should have but in the heat of the moment it didn’t occur to me.”
“Alright, but if you see it again, call me immediately.”
“I will. I promise. Ed, Matt told me that Paul Pritchard was murdered. Do you think this caller is the one who murdered him?”
“I can’t say.”
“Oh. Is this because of privacy laws or something?”