Murder on the Hill (16 page)

“See you, Cordi.”

I hung up.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “Your hunky new detective guy can’t get enough of you, eh?”

Was that jealousy I detected in Cole’s voice?

“I don’t think it’s that,” I said. “I think he’d rather keep us close so we don’t break the case and get the reward money.”

“Well, by tomorrow night, if all goes to plan, money won’t be an issue for either of us.”

“Let’s hope so. Listen, Cole, I just wanted to thank you for everything you’re doing for me. The ID and setting me up with Cordi. I can’t begin to repay the kindness you’ve shown me.”

“It’s my pleasure. I can’t stand by and ignore a friend in trouble.”

Friend. That felt like an anticlimax after the earlier tone of jealousy. I hated these mixed messages. One moment I felt that Cole and I had something, and then in no time at all we were back to just friends.

“Okay,” Cole said, checking his watch. “I’ve got to get to another appointment, and I don’t want to be here when Alex comes for you. Police and all that…”

“I totally understand,” I said. “Thanks again for everything. I’ll let you know how it goes with the key logger installation later tonight.”

“Take care, won’t you. Don’t do anything too risky.”

“You know me, I’m all about caution and safety.” I grinned innocently at him.

“I mean it, babe, be super careful.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Right, good luck with the investigation. I’ll talk to you later.”

We both stood, and he kissed me on the cheek before leaving the pub. I sat back down and sighed, my mind filled with mixed emotions and half-formed theories. Now I had a day trip with Alex to look forward to.

Urgh.

CHAPTER 18

We arrived at the Greenways Country Club a little after two p.m. A few miles north-east of London, we were transported once more from a grey urban landscape to one of rural wealth.

Alex turned his BMW into the main approach road to the club. A pair of stone lions standing proud on pedestals either side of the road greeted us with cold stares. A large sign on the base of one of the pedestals told us the club was strictly
Members Only.

Having a friend whose ex was a cop got around that little issue. I could get used to that. It was like a universal multi-pass—much easier than having to break into places.

“Nice place,” Cordi said. “Remember that golf club you were trying to get into, Alex?”

“The one that wouldn’t have me?” he asked as he drove slowly up the tree-lined road toward the clubhouse.

“They must have had good taste,” Cordi said. She was sitting next to him in the passenger seat. I was pleased to be in the back, where I could sit out this particular argument. I felt like a child witnessing their parents passive aggressively arguing over some deep-rooted issue.

“Any club who would have me wouldn’t be a club I’d want to be a member of,” he said.

“Is that how you chose your wife?”

“Ex-wife.”

“Not until I sign those papers.”

“Okay,” I said, interrupting before we got into a blazing row. “What’s the deal here? Who are we here for?”

While Alex found a place to park among all the Bentleys and Jaguars, Cordi looked over her shoulder to me. “The bike is registered to the club’s chairman, Gerald Stanley.”

“I’m not sure a country club chairman would be the kind to come after us and kill Winkle,” I said. Sure, stranger things have happened, but it didn’t sound quite right.

“I doubt it’s him,” Alex said, “but for right now, it’s the only lead we’ve got, so we’re going to follow it up. I’m not ruling anything out at this stage. When we meet with him, let me do the talking. I want you two to be quiet and be observant.”

“Why didn’t you bring Kava and Salassi?” I asked.

“Lack of resources,” Alex said, applying the parking brake and switching off the ignition. “They’re canvassing the care home and questioning the residents. Besides, I like the company.” I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine with regard to me, or being sarcastic to Cordi.

Either way, we got out and walked into the clubhouse.

“Don’t you feel that déjà vu?” I asked Cordi as we entered the main reception.

“What do you mean?”

I nodded to the huge portrait of a grey-haired gentleman hanging on the wall behind the large oak desk. “With the grounds and the portrait, this could just as easily be a care home.”

An old guy with white hair, dragging a golf bag on wheels, stared at me.

“Now that you mention it,” Cordi said, giggling. The man tutted and shuffled off through a door with a sign that read:
Course Entrance.

Alex approached the young girl behind the reception desk. “I’m here to see Gerald Stanley.” He showed her his police ID.

“Let me just see if he’s in. He might be out on the course,” the blonde said, picking up a phone. She spoke quietly, nodding her head and placing the phone back in its cradle. “He’ll be about twenty minutes if you don’t mind waiting. He said to go through to the bar and order a drink, free of charge. He’s just finishing up some business.”

The receptionist indicated an archway that led into a bar.

Cordi and I followed Alex inside. We sat at a table by a window overlooking the golf course. Right next to us was a driving range. A number of older men were being instructed by younger golf pros. I quite enjoyed the sight of the younger men as they wiggled their butts before they swung at the ball.

“It’s not Gerald,” I said to Alex as I brought my attention back to the bar.

“How do you know?”

I nodded to a picture behind the bar. It was of Gerald. Let’s just say he was a larger-than-usual gentleman. “You think he matches the figure on the camera footage?”

“Fair point,” he said. “Well, might as well get a drink while we’re waiting. If there was some staff.” Alex stood up and approached the bar and looked around. No one seemed to be about.

While Alex was trying to find someone to serve him, I glanced out the window again. Cordi had already spotted the local fauna and was gazing at those wiggling butts with a faraway look.

It wasn’t those pert buns that caught my attention this time, though. It was a familiar face on the other side of the range. I only spotted her for a few seconds as she, with a young golf pro, ducked inside a small hut off to the side.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Cordi. “Just need to visit the bathroom.”

“Um hmmm,” she said, in a world of her own.

I saw the sign for the ladies’ restroom at the end of the bar. I got up and walked toward it. Alex grabbed me by the arm. “Where are you going?”

I shrugged out of his grip. “To the bathroom. Why, you want to come?”

“Just don’t get up to anything stupid. We’re here to speak with Gerald. I don’t want to have to bail you out again.”

“Bananas,” I said to him and turned away. I could feel his angry glare burn into my back, but I just swung my hips and patted my butt. Once out of the bar I ignored the bathroom and jogged down the corridor.

At the end was a fire exit to the grounds. I exited and worked my way around the clubhouse. I came out behind the driving range.

To the left I saw the small hut where I saw the golf pro enter with a familiar-looking girl. I couldn’t quite remember where I had seen her before; I only got a brief glimpse of the side of her face.

Still, I always trust my instincts.

Curiosity was a terrible thing, but I just could never resist. I always had to know.

Luckily for me, the guys on the range were focused on swinging their clubs, and I approached the hut without being seen. It was brick built, about ten metres square, and had a single window on the back wall.

I stretched up to look inside but could only see the movement of shadows. It was too dark inside to make out any detail, but I heard movement.

The door was on the other side that faced the range, but I stepped carefully around, watching out to make sure nobody was watching me. No one was, so I pressed my ear to the door. I heard moaning and heavy breaths. I reached out for the handle and tested it. It wasn’t locked. I only intended to open it a crack, but as I began to push it open I heard someone scream, “Fore!”

My reactions weren’t fast enough.

A golf ball struck me on the back of the head, sending me staggering forward into the hut. I burst in, throwing the door wide open.

It slammed against the wall opposite, knocking into a shelving unit.

Hundreds of golf balls came crashing down on me. I slipped on one and hit the floor hard. As I went down I caught a brief glimpse of the young man I saw coming in earlier. The girl he came in with was shrouded in shadow, and I couldn’t make her out.

“Watch out!” the guy said, reaching for me.

Too late.

Something heavy hit me, knocking me out cold.

My last image was of the guy frantically pulling his pants up.

***

“Harley, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

I felt sick. I swallowed the nausea and blinked the tears from my eyes. Cordi stood over me, her hands on my arm. My head throbbed. “What happened?” I said, my speech slurring.

“You were hit with a ball,” Cordi said. “I saw it from the bar.”

“Jesus, are these balls kryptonite or something?”

“It wasn’t just the ball,” another voice said from behind me. “She hit her head on the floor.”

I sat up and realised I was in the hut, surrounded by hundreds of golf clubs and balls. Alex and a large gentleman, who I assumed to be Gerald, stood in the doorway, their mouths open in shock.

Alex was saying something, but I wasn’t listening. My head was pounding, and I felt two large lumps, one on the back of my head and another on my forehead above my eye. They were already quite swollen.

Then I remembered the guy and the pants. I turned to face him. He was standing there, fully dressed, and alone. No sign of the girl. The guy bent down and smiled. “Hey,” he said, “you took quite the tumble there. Are you all right?” He fixed me with a stare, and I understood the implication.
Don’t say a word.

“Is someone going to explain what the hell is going on here?” Gerald said.

Pants-guy and Cordi held me up. I was about to explain, still not quite thinking straight when Pants-guy spoke first.

“I was just talking with… Harley here,” he said, “giving her a quick tour of the place when someone from the driving range sliced a ball. It hit her on the back of her head. She tripped and brought down the stock of clubs and balls. Don’t worry, Father, I’ll get this all straightened up right away.”

Father
. So that’s why he wanted me to be quiet. He was the chairman’s son.

“Well, let’s get the poor girl to the first aid room,” Gerald said. “James, you and I will speak about this later. Detective Cobb, please accept my apologies.”

Cordi turned to the chairman. “I think it’s Harley who deserves the apology,” she said, raising an enquiring eyebrow.

“Quite,” Gerald said, his double and treble chin wobbling with her rebuke. “My sincere apologies, Harley. I take the safety of all members and guests of this club very seriously. I’m sorry you’ve been hurt. Is there anything I can do to make amends?”

“Ice,” I said. “My head is killing me.”

“Of course, of course. Here, let me help.” Gerald wobbled into the hut and took my arm as I walked unsteadily. Between him and Cordi, they took me into a small room, where they cleaned a cut on my head and brought an ice pack.

Gerald offered to take me to the hospital, but I waved it off. It wasn’t the first time I had taken a knock to the head.

Alex stood in the corner of the room, arms folded, nostrils flared. I turned away.

“I’ve told Jim dozens of times not to fraternise with the guests,” Gerald said to no one in particular.

“Jim?” Alex asked.

“My son,” Gerald said. “I know he’s foolish like all young men his age, but some day he has to learn.”

“No harm done,” I said. “At least not lasting.” I turned to face Alex and ignored his disapproving face. “Did you and Gerald get the issue of the motorcycle sorted?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “It’s used by various workers at the club for getting around the course. And missing.”

“Oh, when was it stolen?” I asked.

“Well, the last time anyone used it, according to the work sheets, was yesterday morning,” Gerald said. “I hadn’t realised it was missing until Detective Cobb told me.”

“Any ideas who might have taken it?” I asked.

Gerald shrugged. “None, I’m afraid. The security camera we have set up on our garages were damaged and didn’t record anything.”

That was interesting. It had to be someone who worked at the club, then, someone who knew about the bike and the cameras. “Do you have a list of everyone who has access to the garages?” I asked.

“Mr. Cobb was already one step ahead,” Gerald said.

“Thank you, Mr. Stanley,” Alex said. “I’ll be in touch about that list later. For now, I think it’s best we get Harley home. I’m sorry for all the disruption.”

“Don’t mention it,” Gerald said. “I’ll arrange for all of you to receive compensation. How does a free year’s membership sound? We even have a spa for the ladies.”

Urgh, being paid off never felt good. Cordi and I shared a disgusted expression before smiling at Gerald. Alex looked like he’d won the lottery. The two men shook hands, and Gerald excused himself.

“Are you okay to move?” Cordi asked. “We’ll go back to my place so you can rest up.”

“I’ll be all right. The ice has helped.”

I walked gingerly out of the country club, ignoring Alex’s incessant complaining. We barely spoke as Alex dropped us off at Cordi’s place. We climbed the steps to the door when from the open window of his car Alex said, “This is the end of the line for you two. I thought I could trust you to help, but you had to go and screw things up with your meddling, didn’t you, Harley? From now on, I don’t want you two anywhere near this case, or I will arrest you. Trust me on that.”

We didn’t get a chance to reply as he sped off in a rage.

“He’s kind of a douche,” I said to Cordi as she opened the door. “I don’t understand why you don’t just divorce and get rid of him.”