Bitter Nothings (2 page)

She ran her finger around the glass rim. “Sorry…”

“What the hell for? We’re the ones behaving like children, not you. Right, Emmy—” Gabe cleared his throat. “Right, Emmet?”

Her younger brother’s left eye twitched.

“Right?” Gabe prompted.

She cringed. Eyes closed, she steeled herself for the end to the shortest ceasefire in brotherly history.

Silence. She opened one eye to find Emmet watching her, his mouth pinched as he tipped his head in a solemn nod. She released her breath.

Gabe stood, patting his pockets. “Must have left my phone in the car. Be right back.”

Dervla waited until he disappeared from sight and then turned to Emmet. “Okay, what haven’t you told me?”

Confusion flashed across his face. “Nothing. You know as much as I do.”

“You’re not just trying to protect me?”

He gave a half-laugh-half-snort, the first hint of color on his face since he’d arrived. “That would be more than my life’s worth.”

“You and Gabe really don’t know anything more?”

Emmet shook his head. “It’s too soon. I don’t think the police even know that much yet. I suspect Gabe’s gone to check if there’s any more news.”

“You don’t really think Dad did it, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

She pressed on. “You must care, though. Why else would you be this upset?”

His face hardened. “I care all right. Just not about him. Drop it, okay?”

For a few moments, neither spoke, the tension hanging like a pall over them. She felt his hurt, understood it, although not his need to cling to it. For the sake of Kayla and Oliver, Dervla had tried to make peace with their father, her father. Despite her best intentions, though, their relationship had remained more that of casual acquaintances than father and daughter. Nevertheless, she couldn’t believe him capable of murder.

With a deep sigh, Dervla pushed herself to her feet. “What do you suggest we do about finding Alana?” Contrary to what Gabe had said, she didn’t need proof to know she and 22-year-old Alana were sisters. One look at those dark eyes – her father’s eyes – was more than enough. Why her father continued to deny it, she didn’t know. Evidence of an indiscretion he would rather forget perhaps.

Emmet shrugged. “What can we do? You know what she’s like when she decides to go walkabout. She could be gone for months.”

Gone in more ways than one. “I assume she’s with Toxic,” Dervla said, referring to her half-sister’s hollow-cheeked boyfriend. If he had a real name, no one knew it.

“Guess so. I didn’t see him at the house.”

“Someone must know where they were headed,” she said, tapping the empty glass against her palm. “Maybe if we go together and explain how important it is we find her…” Her voice trailed off. The whereabouts of her AWOL half-sister was the least of her worries.

“Maybe.” He stood and faced her, his hands restless at his sides, his jaw moving from side to side in a chewing motion. He edged half a step closer toward her. “Maybe not.” His breath smelled of burnt coffee.

Without warning, he caught her up in a vice-like hug, crushing her face to his chest. She squirmed, struggling to breathe.

“Love you, sis. We’re family, you and I.” His hold tightened. “Don’t ever forget that.”

CHAPTER 3

Dervla started at the sound of voices – Gabe’s and a male one she didn’t recognize. She jumped again as the front door banged closed. So much for security. Apparently anyone could walk in off the street. Doorbell not required.

“Cops,” Emmet said, taking the coffee cup from her outstretched hand before she could spill it.

Rubbing her palms on her jeans, she hung back, waiting for her brother and whoever it was with him to appear. For some reason, she felt like a visitor in her own home.

A female voice joined the mix a split second before Gabe and his entourage traipsed into the living room. The narrow-hipped woman, her chestnut hair pulled back off her lightly freckled face in a ponytail, didn’t look familiar, but her male companion did. Dervla stared at him, trying to place him. Taller than Gabe, but the same square, thickset shoulders. Smooth olive-complexioned face. Scalp-hugging tight black curls…

He thrust a hand in her direction, the corners of his deep-set ebony eyes creasing in a hint of a smile. She took it, hoping like hell that his name would leap out at her. His grip felt firm and dry in her clammy one.

“You remember Todd Gleeson,” Gabe said. “Detective Senior Sergeant now.”

She forced a smile, the idea of throttling her brother forefront in her mind. He might have given her advance warning. “Of course,” she said, taking a step back. “You flatted together for a while when you were in uni.” That is if a constantly rotating shift of six or more undomesticated male students bedding down in a three-bedroom house could be called flatting.

Dervla turned her attention to the woman. “Dervla Johns,” she said, proffering her right hand.

“Detective Senior Constable Brooke Stewart.” She grasped Dervla’s hand and shook it, the policewoman’s fine fingers belying their strength. “Pleased to meet you.”

Was she? Dervla certainly wasn’t pleased to see the police. Not least because of the reason behind their visit.

Todd nodded a greeting at Emmett, eyeing up the cup he held.

Gabe obviously caught the look, too. “Good idea,” he said, slapping Todd on the back. “Coffees all round?”

“Thanks. White with one.” DSC Stewart moved away from the crowded doorway, her gaze sweeping the open-plan living room.

Gabe snapped his fingers at his brother. “You heard the lady, white with one. And a strong black for my mate. Make that two.” He held up two fingers, which from their upward thrust had obvious other connotations.

Emmet scowled but said nothing. Instead, he turned his back to the room and started taking cups one at a time from the shelf next to her small coffee machine.

Her older brother ushered the detectives toward her dark burgundy leather lounge suite. Todd opted for the overstuffed armchair closest to the courtyard, his subordinate perching about a meter away from him on the couch. Gabe plonked himself in the other armchair.

Dervla scratched under her right eye. Everyone else felt quite at home in her house, so why didn’t she? She remained standing, as if it somehow gave her an advantage. Behind her back, her left hand gripped the breakfast bar’s rounded granite edge.

“So, Detective—” She coughed. If no one else was going to stand on ceremony, why should she? “So, Todd,” she said, a slight waver to her voice, “what can you tell us? What happens now? What’s happening…” She swallowed, the saliva drying in her mouth as she struggled with the words. “What’s happening with… with their bodies? When can we see them? Say our last goodbyes?” The words jarred. It was wrong, all wrong. They were only children, for God’s sake.

“At this stage, except for what I’ve already told your brothers, there’s not a lot I can tell you. But be assured that we’ll let you know as soon as we do have anything.”

She glanced at Gabe and then over her shoulder at Emmet. Both brothers avoided her gaze. “And what exactly did you tell my brothers?” Not that she didn’t trust them.

Todd frowned, the hiss of the coffee machine behind her drowning out his words to Gabe.

“Sorry, come again.” Another hiss. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought Emmet was deliberately making as much noise as possible. “I missed that.”

Gabe gave her a dirty look. “Why are you doing this, Dervla? You already know what happened. Don’t you think Todd has better things to do than repeat himself for your benefit?”

“Fine. In that case, I don’t know why you’re here. If you’re not going to tell me what the hell is going on, I want you to leave. All of you.”

Her older brother grunted. “God, woman, don’t start getting all melodramatic. You’re making mountains out of molehills.”

She’d give him bloody molehills. Their father used to talk the same way to their mother. “What, you think the massacre of a family is a molehill? You think the murder of two innocent children, our own blood, is a molehill?” Adrenaline surged through her body. “And what about our missing father? Is that a fucking molehill, too, Gabe?”

Remaining seated, he leaned forward, knuckles planted on his chunky thighs and elbows splayed like some ape trying to make himself look bigger than he actually was. “You forgot Lucinda.”

Something snapped inside her. She lunged at him, desperate to wipe the smirk from his face. She didn’t care that he was twice her size. She didn’t care that she had never physically attacked anyone before. She didn’t care that he was her brother. She didn’t care.

Strong hands hauled her back before she could connect with her target. She tried to wrench herself free, but the hands held fast. Her breath escaped in a whoosh, her fight deflating along with it. What had she been thinking? She buried her face in her palms, too mortified by her behavior to look at anyone.

“You’ve had a huge shock,” DSC Stewart said close to her ear. “It’s quite natural for emotions to boil over in situations like this. Don’t worry, we see it all the time.” She gave an easy laugh and patted Dervla’s shoulder. “And take it from me, having brothers doesn’t help either.”

Dervla drew a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Tell me about it.”

Todd stepped aside and Gabe lumbered to his feet, his downturned mouth at odds with his raised eyebrows. “Steady on, Dervla, I really didn’t mean anything by it. Sorry.” He took a tentative step toward her, arm outstretched.

She stiffened, her hip bumping against the breakfast bar as she edged backwards.

“You know I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you,” he said, still advancing.

The sound of shattering crockery split the air. Everyone in the room froze, Gabe’s hand suspended midair. Before he could realize what was happening, she ducked to her left, around the end of the breakfast bar into the kitchen.

Crouched in the middle of the tiled floor, Emmet picked up shards of ceramic with one hand, dropping them into the other. Coffee had splashed everywhere, staining cupboard doors, settling in grouting. She grabbed the damp cloth from the sink and began wiping down surfaces, grateful for the distraction.

“Here, give it to me. I’ll do it,” Emmet said, holding out his hand for the cloth. “You take out the coffees to the detectives. I’ll make Gabe a fresh cup when I’m done.”

“I can do that.” Any excuse to delay the inevitable.

He shook his head and then jerked it in the direction of the living room. “I’ve already heard what they have to say. And it won’t hurt big brother to wait for a few more minutes,” he added under his breath.

She sighed and chucked the cleaning cloth at him. “At least be quick about it.”

He caught it, stood, gave her a knowing smile, and deposited the cup fragments into the kitchen’s pedal bin. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking a moment to compose herself, Dervla tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, stretching it down over the top of her jeans. She breathed in, counted to five, and exhaled before turning to collect the two coffee cups from the bench.

The detectives had retaken their seats. Gabe had relinquished the comfort of the armchair to hunker down between them, one elbow on Todd’s chair, the other on the couch. All three heads were huddled together. Gabe was saying something that Dervla couldn’t make out.

“Sorry about that,” she said, a buoyancy to her voice she didn’t feel. She set the cups on the glass-topped coffee table. “So, are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

Gabe stood, patting his shirt pocket. “What all was about?”

“This.” She made a circling motion with her hand. “The big powwow.”

“Just filling in a few blanks for Todd, that’s all. It’s been a while.” He pulled a cigarette packet and lighter from his shirt pocket, already moving toward the open glass doors. “Now that you’re here, you can take over.”

She waited until Gabe was outside and out of earshot. “If I answer your questions, will you at least do me the courtesy of answering mine? I don’t think it’s a lot to ask, do you?”

“Not at all,” Todd said. “Although it would be easier if we were all sitting down.”

The armchair’s leather cushioning squeaked as she sunk into it. She pulled her feet up onto the edge of the seat, her arms locked around her knees. She gazed down at her pearl-painted toenails. Fairy polish, Kayla called it.

“Can we start with when was the last time you saw your father?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. “Two, maybe three weeks ago. He dropped by with some print proofs for one of my clients.”

“How did he seem?”

“Fine, why?”

“What did you talk about?”

“The weather.”

“Pardon?”

“The weather. When my father doesn’t know what to say, he talks about the weather, and if he’s feeling expansive, global warming.”

“Okay. Then what?

“Is this absolutely necessary? There’s a killer running around loose out there somewhere. You’re wasting your time here. I’m sorry, I don’t know where my father is – I wish I did – but I do know he would never harm a hair on those kids’ heads. Never.”

His face deadpan, Todd leaned back in his seat, straightening his left leg as if he were suffering from cramp. “And that’s why we’re here. We need to find your father to tell him about his family, as well as to eliminate him from our enquiries. Obviously, you and your brothers know your father far better than we do.”

DSC Stewart reached for her coffee. “You want him found, don’t you?”

Dervla started to nod and then stopped. The only reason her father would need to be found was if he was in hiding. And if he was in hiding…

“Look, have you checked with his staff?” Her father owned a print business specializing in digital printing and signage. “He’s probably away at some conference or other.”

Todd checked his watch. “We plan to talk to his employees, but wouldn’t he have mentioned it to you if he was going away?”

“What makes you think he would tell me?” She unclasped her grip from around her knees to flick a hand in Gabe’s direction. “You should be talking to number one son.”