“Yes,” Carol said grimly, thinking about Corinne Jawalski, Graeme Welton and Edward Livingston, and hoping that the horrific toll of this virus would not end up taking in the entire Eureka Opera Company.
Mark said softly to Carol, “The word’s filtered down to me not to press charges as far as Kenneth Raeburn’s concerned, which will keep your name out of the media, Carol.”
“For the moment,” she said dryly.
Anne’s indignation was plain. “He shouldn’t get away with it!”
“He hasn’t,” said Bourke, “his whole world’s blown up in his face and his precious son’s reputation with it.” He touched his beer mug to Carol’s glass as he added, “You know, we cops close ranks over some things-no one’s going to be talking to the media about you.”
Carol sipped her whiskey, inspecting this new shift in the center of her universe. She was out now, to her own family and to her police family. She was no fool-there would be problems, serious ones. But it felt right. And good. Very good indeed…
“Oh God!” she said suddenly. “Talking about the media reminds me of Simon Sykes. He demanded I tie up the case by Wednesday and now I’ve bloody well done it to his schedule.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Balmoral Beach looked ravishing in the bright spring day. Little waves danced in from the harbor, seagulls inspected the sand or wheeled overhead with flashing white wings, a few swimmers braved the chill of the water while the less adventurous paced along the yellow sand. Up from the sea wall the white rotunda sat smugly in a sea of lawn.
Carol smiled at Mark Bourke, whose usual nonchalance had abandoned him. “I know something’s going to go wrong, Carol.”
“Relax. It’s pre-wedding nerves.”
Knots of people were gathering, greeting each other with lighthearted comments. The marriage celebrant beckoned. “Mark, we’ll be starting in a moment.”
Carol gave him a gentle shove. “Go on, Pat’s waiting for you.”
As he went up to take his place Carol saw Sybil’s red hair. Carol skirted the crowd and came up beside her. Carol said, “Hello, darling.”
Sybil gave her a tentative smile. As Carol took her hand, linking their fingers, she had a sudden flash of Alanna and Lloyd holding hands. She said, “Are you coming home?”
Sybil tightened her fingers. “Maybe. Can you give me a good reason to?”
“I miss you.”
“Not bad, but have you something better?”
“Jeffrey really misses you.”
“That,” said Sybil, “just might do it.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Claire McNab is the author of the Detective Inspector Carol Ashton mysteries, Lessons in Murder, Fatal Reunion, Death Down Under and Cop Out. She also authored Under the Southern Cross, a romance. She firmly believes that every person should explore the beauties of Australia for herself and find out if Aussies really do say, “G’day!”
