“You have to leave,” Charmaine said, pointing to the door. “I can’t have you stay here. You need help—you need to be arrested. I always suspected you’d taken the money, but I let you convince me I was wrong, that I was crazy to think something like that about my own brother. But now the truth comes out — I was right.”
“I’m not leaving,” he said.
“Leave, or I’m calling the police.”
At first she thought he would hit her, but then he gathered his things into a duffel bag. He stopped in front of her, eyes wild. “I’m going to find that jewellery.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t have the jewellery, Sean. I don’t have anything at all, thanks to you.” Her heart pounded in her ears, panic worming its way up her spine.
He stormed from the flat, slamming the door so hard that the walls shook. Charmaine stood in the centre of the room, shaking, her fingers pressed to her lips. She’d seen that side of her brother in the past, but not for a long time. She should’ve listened to her instincts about him. She always fell for his charm—even as a young girl, she could never stay mad at him. But this was the last time. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
Watson emerged from wherever he’d been hiding and wrapped his tail around her legs in silence. She bent to pick him up, held him against her cheek and stroked his back.
“What am I going to do, Watson?”
The first thing she did was call the locksmith to have the locks changed on her flat. Next she opened her set of forty-eight watercolour crayons. She’d saved up for them when she started working at a restaurant in Brisbane a year earlier. She’d looked at them in the shop window for weeks before finally taking the plunge. They were perfect — the colours, the texture, the quality. Everything she drew with them felt like a masterpiece compared to the chunky, cheap crayons she’d used in the past. These were divine. She treasured them and used them daily.
She opened the back of the case and pulled out a long necklace covered in diamonds, then a matching tennis bracelet. She studied each piece, fingered the diamonds, then shoved them into her purse.
With a sigh, she reached for a hat, then donned a pair of oversized sunglasses. With one last look around the flat, she slipped out into the twilight and down the back staircase. Watson came with her, but stopped at the bottom of the steps to watch her head into town.
The bank would only be open for another thirty minutes. She’d have to hurry. She glanced back down the street and up in the other direction, careful she wasn’t being followed. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the sound of passersby who were laughing and chatting as everyone headed for home or out to eat together. Some recognised her and waved hello. She waved back, but kept moving. She didn’t have time for distractions.
Inside the bank, it didn’t take long to get a safe deposit box set up. She signed the forms and soon found herself alone with the box and a key. She put the jewellery into the box and shut the lid, then locked it and called the staff member into the room to put the box away. Then she tucked the key into her bra and walked out the door.
“Chaz!” A man’s voice sent her heart into her throat.
Bradford jogged across the street, and she inhaled a long, calming breath at the sight of him as her pulse slowed to a normal rate. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, offering her a shy grin. It looked good on him. “I haven’t seen you since our coffee date. I’ve been meaning to call. I got a new phone.”
She shook her head. “Glad to hear it.”
“I’d love to go out somewhere together. If you’re still available.” He questioned.
“That sounds great.”
“Surf and Seaon Saturday night? I’ll pick you up at seven.”
As she watched him walk away, her thoughts returned to the events of the evening. The locksmith would be there in the morning, but in the meantime, she had to spend the night alone in that flat with Sean wandering the streets. As far as she knew, he hadn’t copied her keys, but she’d let him take them often enough that he might’ve. Besides, the door to her flat wasn’t exactly sturdy or criminal proof. And she now knew for certain that her brother was a criminal.
Where had he gone? Would he be back? He’d promised he would find the jewellery, and she believed him. But it should be safe in the bank vault for now.
Maybe he’d decide that a dead sister was better than a live one and as her only living relative he would inherit her estate. She should make a will, leaving her estate to someone other than her brother. She’d go home and look online for a simple will kit. Not that she had much to leave behind, but she did have something. Something he clearly wanted. Whether or not he’d kill for it, she couldn’t say, but she didn’t want to wait around to find out.
She looked both ways before crossing the road, then hurried back to her flat. Inside, she pressed a chair up against the doorknob after locking it. Then she sat on the couch, eating macaroni and cheese and watching comedy reruns with Watson curled up beside her. The one good thing that’d come of it all was that she had her flat to herself again. And it felt good.
Ten
Evie seta dozen fresh peaches in her basket and then reached for a bag of cherries. Summer fruit was her favourite. She loved the cherries best of all. Throughout the year, she couldn’t wait for summer to arrive so she could eat fruit all day long. She never tired of it. However, she should’ve thought through her choice of basket a little better when she stepped into the grocery shop. A trolley would’ve been preferable to a basket on her arm — now it was so full and heavy, it was leaving a large red welt on her forearm.
She shifted the basket and headed for the egg aisle. When she saw David looking through the cartons of free-range eggs, she almost spun around to head in the other direction, but he noticed her before she could manage it.
With a smile planted on her face, she told him good morning, then wandered over to stand beside him, looking for her preferred eggs.
“It’s nice to see you again,” David said.
She nodded. “And you. How are you settling into life on the island?”
