“No.” At the question, Dwyer swung back a little in his chair to look at Falk. His expression was unreadable. “They weren’t.”
“What?” said Falk.
Dwyer paused, debating silently. “You’re going to read something into this.”
“I’ll do my best not to.”
“You will, though.” Dwyer didn’t sound judgmental, simply resigned to the inevitable. On the desk, his phone started ringing. He reached for it, but didn’t answer immediately. “You’re going to see something that’s not there. You will. But you’ll be wrong.”
“Okay.”
“One cop to another, this is a small town. It’s just one of those things.”
“Try me.”
“For a couple of years, Kim had the office on the right.” Dwyer picked up the phone. “And until he died, Dean Tozer had the place on the left.”
30
Dwyer was right, Falk hated to admit as he stood on the street in front of the office block that Kim and Dean had once shared. Falk’s immediate instinct was to read a whole book into that.
He’d left Dwyer to his phone call and walked out of the station and straight across the road. Falk looked at the businesses now—31A and 31B—and was fairly sure he could feel the officer’s eyes on him through the station window. Falk didn’t mind. If the situation were reversed, he’d be watching, too.
Dwyer had been adamant, though, and Falk knew from personal experience that coincidences were almost daily occurrences in small towns. Still. He breathed out and consciously pushed his instinctive reaction down. Then looked again.
The offices were both nondescript, glass-fronted spaces, with a view out onto the main street. There were two people working in the print shop, and a lone woman in the lawyer’s office, who regarded Falk warily from her desk when she spotted him peering in. He moved on quickly. From what he could tell from the external layout, the businesses shared nothing but a front door and entrance hall. The occupants would see each other arriving and leaving, but not necessarily during the day. Not unless theywanted to, which Falk supposed they might. Kim and Dean had gotten along, from everything he’d heard, and they’d both been close to Charlie.
Falk stepped away and walked slowly the whole stretch up and down the main street, past some of the shops he’d been in earlier. He ignored them now, looking beyond the retail fronts and instead counting office spaces. He spotted eight that he thought looked suitable for small to medium businesses. About what he’d expected, give or take. If Kim and Dean had both wanted to work in the center of town, the choice was not exhaustive. And that choice would have been dictated further by other factors, Falk guessed, such as lease availability. But the fact was, Kim and Dean had found themselves working side by side, for a while at least.
Small-town coincidence,Falk thought as he looked again at 31A and 31B. Sometimes it was just one of those things. Sometimes it wasn’t.
“Aaron, mate. G’day.”
Falk heard the familiar voice and in the reflection of the print shop glass saw someone crossing the street toward him. Charlie.
He turned. “G’day.”
“Thought that was you.” Charlie was lugging two heavy-looking bags of some agricultural product Falk couldn’t identify. He lowered them to the ground with relief and glanced at the office space behind Falk, his eyes lingering on 31B in particular. Kim’s former workplace. A cloud crossed his face, but he didn’t say anything. When he looked back to Falk, his usual smile had returned.
“You heading to the vineyard?” he said. “Want a lift?”
“No, thanks, I’ve got the car here,” Falk said. “I’m catching up with Gemma soon, anyway.”
“Yeah?” Charlie didn’t sound surprised by this, but there was a pause as he seemed to consider something. Then he nodded at the bags on the pavement. “I’m parked around the corner. Got time to give me a hand with these?”
“Sure.”
Falk picked up the nearest one and followed Charlie along the footpath to a shady side street. When they reached his truck, Falk helped him heave one bag into the back, then the other.
“Thanks.” Charlie unlocked the driver’s door but didn’t open it. Instead he leaned against the side. “Listen, it’s so bloody hard to talk at home right now, people everywhere.” He flashed Falk a grin. “There’s not usually this much mayhem, by the way. It’s mostly just me and Shane a lot of the time, getting on with things. You can hear yourself think, at least.”
“Right.”
“Yeah. So anyway, I think Rita might have mentioned, but if you were maybe looking to hang around Marralee—”
No.Falk’s internal response was immediate, but he stopped himself before he spoke. Charlie caught it in his face, anyway.
“That brother of mine giving me dud info, is he? Wouldn’t be the first time.”
