Page 57 of Serenity Falls

‘Or maybe luck has nothing to do with it.’

Sadie stares at Ramona. There’s something else going on here. An undercurrent.

‘So, what are you saying, exactly?’

Ramona and Ellis glance at each other. It’s Dax who speaks up:

‘Maybe Frankie’s death wasn’t an accident.’

16

Serenity sheriff’s office is the other side of town, out towards the hospital and trading estate Lockhart told me about.

It’s a small, single-storey building, whitewashed like lots of the buildings here, a US flag flying outside and parking spaces for two cars. Jerry’s brown cruiser takes up both spaces, abandoned at an angle with the casual arrogance of a man who knows no one is going to ask him to move it. The sight of the carelessly parked car irks me right away.

I squeeze the SUV in next to the cruiser and climb out of the car. I wince at the onslaught of heat. The headache that threatened earlier is now in full bloom. I shouldn’t have drunk so many beers last night. Present me is damn annoyed at past me. Past me doesn’t care because past me is drunk.

The door to the office is half open. Obviously, Jerry has the same attitude to security as he does to car-parking. I knock once, gently. ‘Hello?’

A few seconds later, a gruff voice responds wearily: ‘Yeah. Come in.’

I step inside, thinking that the open door must be fucking up his aircon. As soon as I’m in, I realize that’s not an issue. There is no aircon. Two huge fans waft warm air around. The small office is stifling.

Jerry, however, looks cool as a cucumber, reclining in a leather chair, feet up on a huge wooden desk in front of the window. Opposite him, half a dozen filing cabinets are squeezed into the cramped space and a door leads to a small kitchenette.

‘Mr Barker.’ Jerry smiles but doesn’t bother standing or putting his feet down. Again, the attitude of a guy who doesn’t need to give a shit. Each little slight cranks up my irritation another notch.

I try my best to smile pleasantly. ‘I called earlier?’

He stares at me, like he doesn’t recall. Like he has so much important stuff to do that a call from a mere mortal like me has already slipped from his mind.

‘I had something I wanted to talk to you about,’ I say patiently.

‘Oh yeah.’ He reaches for a mug of coffee on his desk. ‘So, how can I help you, Mr Barker?’

He still hasn’t invited me to sit down. I decide to take the initiative. I pull out the chair in front of his desk and plonk myself on it. It’s much smaller than Jerry’s leather recliner, so I’m forced to look up at him. The power grab isn’t subtle.

‘Like I said on the phone – I think we’re having some issues with an intruder.’

‘You think? You don’t sound too sure.’ A patronizing smile. ‘Are you or aren’t you, Mr Barker?’

I hold his gaze. ‘We are. Someone is breaking into our yard at night.’

‘O-kay.’

Jerry leans forward and leisurely flips open his notepad. I realize suddenly why the desk seems so abnormally huge. There’s no desktop or laptop taking up space. Just the notepad, phone, Jerry’s coffee and a picture in a frame. A pretty young woman with a blonde bob. Maybe his daughter.

‘And what is this intruder doing?’ Jerry asks.

I try to keep my attention focused. It’s hard in the hot, airless office. My under-arms are damp and sweat prickles on my brow. ‘They’re dressed up in the Arnie the Armadillo costume – the one Frankie was wearing when he drowned. And they have signs hung around their neck. The first night it was “No Accident”. The second night – “Help”.

Jerry stares at me. ‘Arnie the Armadillo?’

‘Yeah – I know it sounds crazy.’

He gives me an odd look. ‘It does. And have you confronted them?’

‘By the time I got outside, they were gone.’