Deadly Obsession Read online

‘Sorry, but she does.’

  Oh, don’t I know it!

  ‘So, back to last night,’ Lexie said.

  ‘Melissa had been drinking for a while and suggested we go up to my flat. I live on the premises. When I knocked off work we had a few drinks and went upstairs. We had more to drink at my place and then had sex. I passed out . . . She was gone when I woke up this morning.’

  Matt Talbott’s voice faltered ever so slightly as he uttered the last sentence and Lexie sensed he was leaving something out.

  ‘So the last time you saw Melissa was at roughly what time?’

  Matt sighed loudly.

  ‘As I said, we’d had a fair bit to drink. She was pretty maggotted and so was I, but I’d say I crashed about 2.00 am. Now, are you going to tell me what all the questions are about?’

  Lexie took a deep breath.

  ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news,’ she said, gently. ‘Melissa has died. She was found early this morning at Clovelly Beach.’

  Lexie observed his eyes widen.

  ‘Her death appears suspicious and an investigation is under way. As far as we know, you are the last person to see her alive.’

  She waited for the reaction, assessing and evaluating his body language for any signs of guilty knowledge.

  Matt Talbott’s response was in slow motion. His already pale skin turned white and his jaw dropped. A shaky hand slowly moved to cover his mouth. Then he turned in his chair, grabbed the waste-paper bin on the floor next to him and dry-retched into it.

  Lexie looked away. This guy was either a really good actor or he was genuinely shocked. They gave him a moment to clean up and pull himself together.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Lexie and Brad asked simultaneously.

  He nodded, taking another gulp of water from a bottle on his desk.

  ‘I can’t bloody believe it. What happened? Was she bashed or something?’

  ‘We’re not sure what happened to her yet. That’s what we’re trying to find out. So, you say you fell asleep at around 2.00 am and that was the last time you saw her? You admit you were both alcohol-affected. Had you taken any drugs?’

  ‘No, no, I don’t do that shit. I don’t think she did either. Not with me, anyway.’

  ‘Did you give Melissa a red rose? Or did you see her with one?’

  Matt Talbott gave her a strange look.

  ‘Uh . . . no, to both questions.’

  ‘If you passed out, how would Melissa have let herself out of the hotel?’

  ‘Um . . . I’m not sure. She might have just let herself out the back way. That’s the way we came up. I don’t know.’

  Lexie watched him for a long moment.

  ‘You would have CCTV in and around the hotel?’

  He glanced around the room as though in search of an answer.

  ‘Yes, we have CCTV. You can look at it. You can have whatever you like. Though there is no camera covering the private entrance, the one I use.’

  Although Matt Talbott appeared compliant, Lexie sensed there was something he was omitting to tell them.

  ‘Did Melissa happen to mention being worried about anything, anyone? Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt her?’

  ‘No, no, no. But I don’t really know her that well, know what I mean? I’ll just get someone to get the CCTV footage.’

  He jumped up, left the room and was back almost instantly.

  ‘I just thought of something.’

  Fear burned bright in his eyes.

  ‘They’ll find my . . . we, I, used a condom but couldn’t they still find semen on . . . in, her body. Will that make me a suspect?’

  Lexie avoided giving a straight answer.

  ‘We will be speaking to everyone who has seen or been with Melissa in the last twenty-four hours, along with her friends and associates. If you’re telling us the truth, you have nothing to worry about.’

  Matt Talbott was adamant.

  ‘I have nothing to hide, nothing. I was here all night after she left. I was asleep.’

  ‘I’m assuming you were alone for the rest of the night?’

  Matt hesitated. It was enough to make Lexie push that little bit further.

  ‘You look concerned, worried. Is there something you’re not telling us?’

  His eyes flicked around the room and he seemed suddenly very uncomfortable.

  ‘I suppose you are going to find out anyway and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to hide anything, so I’ll tell you the truth.’

  Lexie held her breath, hoping for a lead.

  ‘I’m not the only one Melissa had sex with last night.’

  CHAPTER 7

  Navigating the traffic, Lexie calculated the most direct route to the city morgue while Brad chewed on his chicken and salad roll.

  ‘This isn’t bad,’ he said, between mouthfuls. ‘I might get another one later.’

  ‘Eating ten times the recommended amount of healthy food kind of defeats the purpose, you know.’

  Having given in to Brad’s insistent whining, that he was ‘starving’, Lexie had made a quick pit-stop to get food, which had put them behind schedule and now they were hurrying to get to the morgue for the identification of Melissa’s body. But she was satisfied that, although Brad might have got his own way, she had at least made him eat something reasonably healthy.

  Not that she had any intention of starting on her own chicken teriyaki roll right now. It sat untouched on the back seat of the car. Her rule was to never attend the morgue with a full stomach, for obvious reasons.

  The morgue . . .

  Her mind shot back to the first time she had worked with Josh. It had been Lexie’s first murder investigation and they had been observing the autopsy of Robert King – a Devil’s Guardians gang member who had been shot by Harry Burgh – when Josh had collapsed from lack of food and exhaustion – or so he said.

  It had been a strange and surreal moment in time. The big macho detective was slumped on the floor of the sterile autopsy suite while the body of the bikie was being stitched right above him. She recalled the pathologist laughing, and other morgue assistants stopping to have a look at the cop who couldn’t take it.

  It had been Lexie’s first glimpse of Josh’s vulnerability and it had been her downfall. It was then that her heart began to melt, just a little.

  How many times did she have to tell herself? Don’t think about Josh.

  Lexie forced her mind to click back to work.

  ‘So what did you think of Matt Talbott? Is he guilty?’

  Brad had a tendency to think everybody was guilty. Lexie was sure it had everything to do with being in this job for almost twenty-three years. Some old-school cops were like that. They’d become jaded by time and dealing with the seedier side of life and humanity. She felt jaded herself some days.

  ‘Guilty as sin,’ Brad grumbled, still chewing feverishly.

  ‘I don’t think he is.’

  ‘No, neither do I, actually. But I can’t wait to speak to his mate. I hope he rings me back sooner rather than later. Our victim’s sex life is turning out to be more action-packed than . . . than . . .’

  ‘An erotic novel,’ Lexie finished for him.

  Brad agreed.

  ‘Yeah. Not that I’ve ever read one of those things.’

  Matt Talbott had informed them that his mate, Gus Riley, who was currently staying with him, had told him over coffee this morning, that he too had slept with Melissa in the early hours of the morning.

  Lexie nervously glanced at her watch. She didn’t want to be late and have Sasha and Vicky waiting for them. It looked unprofessional and a bit heartless.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get there in time,’ Brad assured her, knowing she had an obsession with punctuality.

  Lexie had always considered the huge number of hours spent during an investigation travelling from one place to another to be a complete waste of time. That was until she began working with Brad, who had pointed out it was a perfect opportunity to talk ab
out and mull over facts about the job in question.

  With that thought in mind, she asked the question that had been bothering her all morning.

  ‘What do you make of the rose?’

  Lexie stopped at an intersection.

  ‘Clear this side,’ Brad called, checking the traffic flow from the left while Lexie checked the right.

  ‘No idea. Some bloke probably gave it to her during the night hoping to get lucky. It seemed it didn’t take much to get her to hop on board.’

  Lexie looked unimpressed.

  ‘You will get struck by lightning talking ill of the dead, you know.’

  Stopping at a red light, she turned to Brad.

  ‘That rose was not crushed or damaged in any way. If she was rolled, or pushed, or whatever, down that hill, she would obviously have lost the rose. Someone put it there. It must mean something.’

  Brad rolled his eyes – his favourite gesture – and pulled a face at her.

  ‘Is that a professional hunch or your crazy psychic sixth sense?’

  ‘Don’t knock what you don’t understand,’ Lexie replied in a spooky, sing-song voice.

  Brad got freaked out by anything remotely supernatural. If something was not tangible or defied logical explanation, he did not want to know about it. And, of course, knowing this made it so much more fun to play with his mind.

  Turning right off Parramatta Road, Lexie took a left into Arundel Street and then another left into the morgue’s undercover parking area. She spoke into the security system and waited for the giant roller door to rise. Passing the loading dock, which was thankfully empty, she drove further around to the police parking area.

  ‘I’ll leave the rest of my roll here. Probably best not to take it in with me,’ Brad told her with a grin. ‘How you feeling there, partner?’

  Lexie gave him a look. She knew full well he had no intention of eating in the morgue. It was just that Brad knew how much she hated this place; he couldn’t help but stir her up.

  Two could play at that game, she thought, knowing what would wipe the smirk off his face.

  ‘Can you imagine how many ghosts are roaming around the corridors of this place? There would have to be thousands, don’t you think?’

  It worked. Brad’s face fell.

  ‘Shut up, Lex,’ he warned, reaching for the door handle. ‘There are no such things as ghosts.’

  ‘Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there, you know. I can feel them all around me. That’s why the place is so cold,’ said Lexie, getting out of the car.

  ‘Funny, I thought the morgue was cold because everything is refrigerated,’ retorted Brad.

  They were now out of the car and walking towards the loading dock.

  Lexie laughed, knowing she had unsettled him.

  ‘Let’s get this over and done with, shall we?’

  With that she mounted the stairs, took a deep breath and pushed her way through the heavy plastic doors that led into the morgue.

  *

  Rex Donaldson was incognito – or at least attempting to be.

  However, observing a subject for the purpose of gathering intelligence and evidence without their knowledge entailed blending into the environment around you. It was imperative not to stand out, or draw attention to yourself in any way.

  Standing 195 centimetres tall, and hauling around 120 kilos of tattooed bulk, meant that remaining covert was no easy feat for Rex. Then there was his salt and pepper beard that hung in a point off his chin, and the dark hair that hung down his back in a low ponytail. Even without his old leathers, Rex stood out as a fearsome stereotypical bikie.

  No, surveillance was not his forte. Rex’s talents lay elsewhere.

  One advantage of his fearsome appearance, however, was that no one bothered him. He could pretty much stand on his head in the middle of a busy highway and cars would just drive around him. No one wanted to upset someone like Rex. And although he was no longer a bikie, he still loved that power and the intimidation his appearance provided.

  From a safe distance, Rex crossed the road and followed his target into the Coogee Bay Hotel. He felt his heart quicken, his stomach tighten. But it was not adrenaline causing such sensations as was customary when following a scent. No, it was nerves. Rex was rarely nervous, so it was an unfamiliar state for him to find himself in, but perhaps understandable considering today’s mission was purely personal.

  Inside the hotel, Rex concealed himself as best he could behind a large concrete pillar at the rear of the bar. From there he watched Sandy weave and zigzag her way through the hordes of lunchtime customers, her head constantly swivelling from side to side as though she was searching for someone in particular.

  For a moment Rex lost sight of her when a group of young guys sauntered across his line of vision. They cleared just in time for him to see two men in suits give Sandy the once-over as she walked past them. One did a double take as if he recognised her, then hesitated for a moment as though considering whether to stop and speak to her. Rex didn’t know them, but they were detectives, no doubt. They had the look, the walk, the blank expression.

  Fuck off. She’s not doing anything wrong – yet.

  Rex could pick them straight away. Police were the only people who dared to look someone like him in the eye. Of course, they had the cocky reassurance of their guns close at hand, which gave even the tiniest cop the superficial confidence to cast suspicious glances his way. If only they knew!

  Something bumped him. Rex turned and saw a pathetically skinny girl hit the floor behind him. She stuttered an apology as he helped her up. How the hell could she have missed him? he wondered. He must stand out like dog’s balls. But Rex didn’t care. His only concern was that Sandy didn’t discover her father spying on her.

  ‘Are you all right, luv?’ Rex asked, quietly annoyed she had distracted him.

  The girl nodded, and stared up at him. That’s when he noticed the glazed eyes, the dilated pupils, the unsteady stance. She was a junkie, completely out of it, and as Rex watched her scuttle away like a scared rabbit, it took him back to the time when Sandy had looked just like her. Thank God those days were well and truly behind them.

  Or were they?

  Sandy had begged him to trust her when she promised to never again touch that poison. And there were really no signs she was back on the gear. She had enrolled in a TAFE course and seemed to be enjoying her life. She was still going strong with his mate, Rowdy. She had put on weight, which was great. Thankfully Sandy no longer resembled the emaciated girl he had been reunited with only six months ago, when she was being kept alive by a life-support machine.

  So if she’s given you no indications of drug use, why are you here?

  I’m a suspicious bastard, that’s why.

  He may have missed having a hand in her upbringing – that opportunity had been taken out of his control a long time ago – but he was still Sandy’s father. It was up to him to watch out for her. Her mother was dead. She had been abused by her stepfather.

  Rex felt the familiar wave of anger rise like a tide inside him at the thought of Max Croft, a former member of the Assassins Outlaw Motorcycle Gang. Even the knowledge that Croft, was now riddled with the cancer festering inside him, that karma had finally caught up with him, could grant Rex little solace. Time was irreplaceable.

  Sandy was now at the bar. Rex felt his shoulders tighten. With his older and much abused kidney inside her, she had to stick to a very healthy diet regimen. She was allowed no alcohol.

  A moment later he was relieved to see her take what appeared to be a schooner of Coke from the barman. She then headed for a table on the other side of the bar. Rex adjusted his position to the opposite side of the pylon to get a better view. When he glanced back in Sandy’s direction, he noticed a man had joined her at the table. He could only see his profile, but he knew instinctively he’d not seen him before.

  Rex took a mental description of him; sandy blond hair, tanned skin even
though it was the middle of winter. Although sitting, he looked tall, fit and around thirty. He wore some sort of uniform with a jacket over it. He couldn’t make out what it was. Definitely not a cop, maybe a firefighter, an ambo, or even some sort of security guard?

  What is Sandy doing?

  Rowdy would be furious if he walked in now, he thought. Maybe she was seeing someone behind his back? That would explain the secrecy when he’d asked where she was going earlier today. He would be disappointed if she was doing the wrong thing by his mate. Rex might no longer be a member of the Devil’s Guardians, but some of them were still his mates.

  Watching their body language, he was happy to see there seemed nothing remotely sexual about their behaviour. Then he saw the man hand something across the table. Rex’s heart started beating faster and he moved again, just slightly, leaning against the pylon for balance as he edged forward to get a better line of vision.

  The man was holding something, a small package. Sandy looked at it then reached forward and took it, quickly placing it in her handbag.

  What the fuck was that?

  Shit. He couldn’t get any closer without risking being seen. It was probably all very innocent, he assured himself, but his heart sank to his toes as he saw his daughter pull out her purse and hand the man what appeared to be a number of fifty-dollar notes.

  Had he just witnessed a drug deal? If this fucking arsehole was supplying drugs to his vulnerable daughter, he was going to take great pleasure in ramming his balls right down his throat.

  With that thought in mind, Rex took out his camera and started shooting.

  CHAPTER 8

  They were cutting it fine. The briefing Lexie was due to deliver was set to start at 3.00 pm. At 2.55 pm Lexie raced into the upper level of the Clovelly surf club. Taking the stairs two at a time, she left Brad panting in her wake.

  The makeshift command post and briefing room had been set up for their purposes with tables and chairs laid out in straight lines across the width of the room. At the front of the room was a whiteboard, a long table containing different equipment, an assortment of files and folders and coffee and tea facilities, amongst other things.