Death in the Sunshine (Retired Detectives Club, #1)(24)

‘The start of the Wild Ridge Trail isn’t far from Manatee Park,’ says Moira. She glances at Lizzie who seems to be staring over her shoulder, into space. Tilting her head, she focuses on Lizzie until she notices and gives a little nod. Moira looks back at Philip. ‘The driver could have used the trail to get around the back into the park to avoid being seen by any street CCTV cameras.’

‘We need to know where the cameras are,’ says Rick. ‘Surely there are some inside the park?’

‘There must be.’ Lizzie’s nodding. It’s the first time she’s got involved in the discussion about the murder. At first her voice is hesitant, but it grows in strength as she warms to her theme. ‘And we need to get exact confirmation of the times Clint and Donald saw the vehicle.’

‘We do,’ says Philip. He runs his hand over his bald pate, smoothing an imaginary strand of hair back into place. ‘We need everything our patrols have seen over the past few weeks. Someone else might have seen something but not remembered it.’

‘Agreed,’ says Rick. ‘I’ll get the logs off the patrollers.’

‘And we need to get a look at the gate register – a Maryland plate means the driver is most likely an outsider. Anyone coming into the neighbourhood has to sign in at the gate. There should be a record of them arriving and leaving.’

‘Good thinking. And we need to get the details on whoever drives the station wagon too,’ says Philip. He takes a couple of steps sideways and starts a new list. Writes ‘Action Log’ at the top, then numbers the actions – first is the community-watch logs, second is the gate register, third is checking the driver ID of the station wagon, fourth is trying to access the CCTV. Turning back towards the group, he asks, ‘What else?’

‘We need to know who the man following Moira is,’ says Lizzie.

Damn. Moira turns to look at Lizzie. She hadn’t wanted to bring up the blond guy; she was going to handle that herself. ‘It might not be connected.’

‘What guy?’ asks Rick, frowning. ‘Is someone stalking you? That’s a real problem, we should—’

‘I don’t know for sure,’ says Moira. ‘He was near Manatee Park this morning, parked across the street from Philip, and as I was getting into Philip’s car he took a picture of me. Then, when I was out in the garden with the dogs, he was watching me, and—’

‘He was here too. Outside the gate on to the street,’ says Lizzie. ‘Moira chased him but he jumped into a silver Beetle and drove away.’

Rick looks thoughtful. ‘Sounds like you’ve got a stalker to me.’

‘And if he was outside the crime scene this morning, he could be connected to the murder. He could have seen something,’ says Philip, making a note on the glass.

‘Or be the killer,’ says Lizzie.

Moira holds up her hands. ‘Or he could be nothing to do with it. He could be following me for some other reason.’

‘Like what?’ asks Lizzie.

Moira shrugs. Tells another lie: ‘I don’t know.’

Rick shakes his head. ‘Well, that doesn’t make it any less concerning.’

True, thinks Moira. But she doesn’t want to dwell on it. Instead she tries to distract them. ‘Where are the cops with the investigation?’

Philip shakes his head. ‘Bloody nowhere.’

‘Golding said they’re working a few angles,’ says Rick. ‘Seems the one they’re running with is that it was a mugging gone wrong.’

Moira rubs her forehead. She’s trying to limit her input – doesn’t want them to think she’s anything more than a concerned citizen playing amateur sleuth – but it’s hard to hold back. ‘That makes no sense. If it was, why did the mugger leave the money and whatever was in the bag?’

‘I said before to Philip, maybe they can’t swim?’ says Lizzie. She looks from the murder board to Moira. ‘Can you message me those pictures you took at the crime scene, so I can look at them on my iPad?’

‘Sure.’ Taking out her phone, Moira selects all the crime-scene photos and sends them to Lizzie. ‘Should be with you now.’

As Philip writes ‘non-swimmer?’ as a query on the patio door make-do murder board, Lizzie hurries into the kitchen and collects an iPad from a docking station on one of the counters. She taps on the screen as she walks back to the patio. ‘Got them.’

Sitting down again, Lizzie focuses on the iPad screen, flicking through the pictures.

Moira looks back at Rick and Philip. ‘Manatee Park seems a weird place for a mugging. It shuts at, what, ten in the evening? No one goes there after that. If two or more people met up there last night it had to be prearranged rather than by chance.’

‘Yeah.’ Rick’s nodding. ‘So she knew her killer?’

‘I’d say so,’ says Moira. She glances at Lizzie, but she doesn’t look up. Instead she stays silent, studying the pictures. It’s good she’s getting involved now, but Moira still wonders what the stand-off between her and Philip was about.

‘It’s sloppy,’ says Philip, jotting ‘killer known to victim’ on to the patio door. ‘I reckon they’re only thinking of the mugging angle because of the money.’

‘Could be,’ says Rick. ‘But it raises the question why was she carrying that much cash anyways? Everything here is on account.’