I inhale sharply. There’s no mistaking who it is. The burly shoulders, the bright red hair glinting in the sun.
Nick Gould.
***
“You’re sure it was him?”
The others stare at me over the Inn’s version of a continentalbreakfast—dry Weetabix cereal and untoasted bread with a jar of Vegemite.
“There’s no question,” I answer Ellery.
“But why would he do that?” Josh asks around a mouthful of bread.
It’s the question I asked myself the entire walk back to the Inn, once I waited for Nick Gould to disappear from my view. My mindset may have been far from calm, but I was at least of sound enough mind not to confront him on my own.
“I think I must have intruded on him,” I say, presenting the most logical theory I’ve come up with. “Maybe visiting the mine is some sick way for him to relive what he did to Phoebe all those years ago.”
I can tell the others aren’t buying it. They still don’t seem sold on the fact that Nick killed Phoebe. Kyan’s eyes narrow and Adrien’s lips twist upward in something like a grimace. But thankfully—likely given my apparent fragile state—no one contests it.
“Well, we should probably report this to the AFP,” Declan proposes. “I mean, what’s to say he’s not going to try to hurt you or one of us again?”
“No.”
Josh’s response is adamant. His face appears calm, but there’s a sharp line running between his brows.
“I mean,” he says, appearing to catch himself, “does Detective What’s His Name know that we’re back here?”
“No, but if we’re in serious danger, I’m sure they wouldn’t be hung up on the fact we left Sydney,” Ellery pipes up. “Especially if it would help their investigation.”
“I just think we should give this some time.” Josh again. “Making an accusation like this could really fuck up a guy’s life. Even if it is Nick Gould.”
I shoot Josh a curious glance. He’s never seemed too concerned about Nick’s well-being before. But I don’t challenge it. The fact is, I’d rather not share my suspicions with Villanueva either. Not only would it mean her catching me in a lie, but I need to buy more time. I need concrete evidence to get the police to stop investigating.
Thankfully, the topic of conversation changes before anyone else can disagree.
Josh’s phone dings with a news alert, his eyebrows immediately scrunching.
“Shit, have y’all seen this? The wildfires?”
“Yes, Josh,” Adrien says, pedantically. “That’s the whole reason we couldn’t fly back yesterday, remember?”
“No, I mean, I know. But this says they’re evacuating the area around Cullamonjoo, the national park we went to. Where Tomas…” He trails off, covering the rest of his unspoken sentence with a cough. “That’s only a few hours from here.”
Ellery’s eyes widen. “Should we be concerned?”
Her question is met with a throaty scoff emanating from the front desk. I shouldn’t be surprised. Back when we were first here, Randy had a habit of eavesdropping on our private conversations. I guess nothing has changed.
“Something you want to say, mate?” Kyan asks. The question is casual, but there’s a streak of hostility in his tone.
“I wouldn’t right consider myself your mate,mate.” Randy’s voicetakes Kyan’s hostility and raises it ten levels. It also carries a slight slur. I check my watch. Barely nine. Looks like Randy starts on the bottle early these days. “But it figures yous’d be worried about wildfires. You aren’t cut out for a place like this. I don’t know why yous bothered coming back. Did you want to gloat at the rest of us? Check that we’re still where we belong?”
“I’m sorry,” Adrien says, her tone making clear she’s anything but. “Have we done something to offend you?”
This elicits another scoff and a mumble of something unintelligible.
“We just found out our friend was murdered,” Ellery says. “That’s why we’re back.”
“Ah yes, that slut bitch of yours who—”
