Death in the Sunshine (Retired Detectives Club, #1)(86)

‘You lost big?’ asks Rick. Pressing his side harder to try and stop the pain.

‘Yeah, and then some.’ He looks up at Rick. ‘I was going to lose the house, man. I had to do something drastic.’

‘So you robbed your neighbours?’ Moira’s disgust is clear in her voice.

‘I was desperate. Coming here was meant to be a fresh start. It was a downgrade, sure, but it was the best I could do after the trouble in Vegas,’ whines Donald. ‘I didn’t realise there was a casino here. But once I’d found it I couldn’t stay away and . . . well, I ran out of money. Needed a way to get more, and I thought I’d figured it out, but then that bitch, Kristen, sees me and it gets a whole lot worse. She was blackmailing me. She took five grand off me the first time. Then she wanted ten more. I told her I didn’t have it.’ He looks at Rick, his eyes pleading. ‘And I really didn’t have it, man. I had to take some of the valuables I took from the houses to make up the amount – five thousand in cash, and another five from a clock, some medals and jewellery. I just wanted it to be over, man, and she said if I gave her the ten we’d be done. But when I handed the stuff over, she said she’d changed her mind and I should pay her a monthly fee – two thousand dollars every month.’

Donald exhales hard. Moira’s glaring at him. Rick says nothing, waiting for him to continue. He’s gotten the sense that Donald needs to tell them what happened. He figures if he stays quiet he’ll carry on the story.

Donald hangs his head. ‘I couldn’t pay it, man. I still owed the casino, and I was in big danger of losing my house and getting chucked out of this place because I was in arrears on the amenity and community fees. She’d promised the ten grand was the last. She’d damn well promised.’

‘So you killed her?’ Moira asks.

‘I . . . I shoved the money at her and it unbalanced her – the rucksack was heavy with the valuables inside. When I saw her stagger backwards I acted on instinct. I grabbed the little gun she always held when we met, and pointed it at her. I told her the ten thousand had to be the end of it. I told her and she . . . she just laughed. So I . . .’ Donald looks down at the asphalt. Swallows hard. Then turns and looks back at Moira. ‘I was real mad then. I yelled at her and fired the goddamn gun. Didn’t even aim properly.’

Rick hears sirens in the distance. They haven’t got long. ‘What happened next?’

‘She kind of staggered a bit and then fell into the pool. I could tell I’d hit her – there was blood on her chest and she was making a weird noise, kind of gurgling and gasping. I tried to get the rucksack off her, but she’d fallen too far back into the pool. I couldn’t reach her or the bag. She was splashing around, trying to keep her head above water, and she let go of the bag and the damn thing sunk.’

‘Did you leave then?’ asks Moira.

‘No.’ Donald’s voice breaks as he says it. ‘I stuck around for a bit. Kristen was in a bad way, but the cash had gotten loose from the bag and it floated up to the surface. I can’t swim, so I lay on my belly and scooped up as many dollars as I could.’

Moira narrows her gaze. ‘You did that while she was in the pool dying?’

‘I needed the money, man,’ Donald snaps back. He’s silent then.

Moira shakes her head.

Rick clenches his jaw against the pain.

The sirens are getting louder.





49


PHILIP


The scene in the alleyway is buzzing. Four cop cars are parked across the entrance, lights still on, and there’s an ambulance due any minute. Uniforms are swarming around and plain-clothes detectives are barking orders, trying to take control. Philip smiles to himself as he takes another big breath in, trying to steady his heart rate after the chase. It’s almost like old times. And he’s right in the thick of it.

He’d been slower than Moira and Rick on the chase, of course, as they pursued the suspect. But then he’s older, so that’s to be expected, and Lizzie had been only just in front of him. They’d arrived in time to see the suspect wrestled to the ground by Moira, and hear the confession of how and why he’d killed that poor girl. He’d been able to hear it, even though he’d been wheezing a bit as he tried to get his breathing back under control and was feeling rather light-headed.

They’ve done it – solved the case – and Philip’s proud of that. But the fact that the killer had walked among them – been one of them – within the Ocean Mist community is a problem. He’s already planning a complaint to the Resident Selection Board calling out the inadequacies of their vetting process. Donald Ettwood should never have been allowed to buy a home here on The Homestead. It’s not good enough, and Philip intends to make that absolutely clear.

He’s moved back, away from the action around Donald Ettwood, to be near Moira, Rick and Lizzie on the pavement. They had to step aside as the local cops arrived, guns drawn and full of bravado and swagger. Philip gives a rueful shake of his head; bit late arriving in a blaze of glory after the real work has finished. Still, let them have the paperwork – he isn’t complaining – but he’s not going far either. He’s an important witness – they’ll have to interview him.

Philip turns to Lizzie, Moira and Rick. None of them are looking at him, which he’s glad for because his heart has been racing and he was worried he’d pushed things too far on the run. Cautiously he takes his hand from his chest and inhales hard. There’s no pain. Relief floods through him. Seems like he’ll be okay.