Chapter 15 #2
Jonothon Wright blinked, clearly surprised by Nick’s answer. He shared a quick look with the constable, who was scribbling furiously in his notepad. If Austin had read Chloe’s letter, then he’d know Nick was her son, and yet he hadn’t said anything. Why?
The detective eyeballed Nick. “You’re Chloe’s son?”
“Yes,” Nick repeated. “I’m her son. She left when I was around eight years old. Then a couple of months ago she writes a letter wanting to reconnect. And here we are.”
The detective frowned. “But Austin doesn’t know?”
I rolled my eyes and again answered for Nick.
“Chloe told us their relationship is sometimes strained and that Austin can be bossy.” I was more than happy to throw some mud in the other direction.
“She wanted to talk with Nick first before telling anybody else. Austin’s father knew all about Nick, but not Austin himself. ”
“I see.” The detective wrote in his own notebook. “And yet Chloe’s doctor and her neighbours paint Austin and Belinda as reliable and trustworthy caregivers.”
I said nothing, too busy watching Nick for any sign he was about to lose his shit completely.
“You understand my dilemma,” the detective continued.
“I have a number of reliable people vouching for Austin, but only you and your partner—” He shot me a considering look.
“—saying anything to the contrary. So, my question is, where is your proof regarding your relationship to Chloe and any evidence of this so-called strained relationship?”
Shit.
Nick sent a slightly panicked looked my way. Chloe’s letter was gone, and other than what she’d told the two of us about Austin, we had nothing concrete except the accounts which were beginning to seem the best chance we had of swinging opinion our way. Dammit.
But there was one other card up our sleeve. “Chloe has a scrapbook about Nick in her bookcase,” I blurted. “She’s been following Nick’s career and personal life for years. We can show you where it is. Austin doesn’t know about it.”
Nick made a slow turn to face me, the relief evident on his face. “That’s right. It’s maybe not proof exactly, but it’s close.”
Wright nodded. “That would go a long way toward helping your case.”
Nick threw up his hands. “What case? Are we being accused of something?”
Wright ignored the outburst. “But even if you are her son, there are a lot of reasons family come out of the woodwork and start circling when parents are sick, most of them not good.” The detective got to his feet. “Would you mind if we take a look around?”
Nick was still festering about the whole family-coming-out-of-the-woodwork thing, and so I answered for him. “Go ahead. Just don’t touch anything. Chloe’s not here. Never has been.”
As they began their snoop, I elbowed Nick in the ribs and whispered, “I think we should tell them about the accounts.”
Nick’s lips set in a thin line and he shook his head. “No.”
“Stop it,” I hissed, returning his belligerent look. “If you want to be included in the search, then you need to give them a reason to doubt Austin’s innuendos about you. Muddy the waters a little.”
Nick said nothing as he tracked Jonothon Wright’s movements through the kitchen. The man could be an arsehole of the highest order.
“Nick,” I insisted, his name sounding more like a growl than anything else. “They might be important in finding Chloe. You don’t know.”
“Okay, okay,” he blustered, getting to his feet. “Detective?”
Wright turned.
“You might be interested in taking a look at the printouts on the dining table. Chloe took us by her bank yesterday.”
Jesus, Nick. I groaned at how that must’ve sounded. The man was as subtle as a sledgehammer some days.
Sure enough, Wright was suddenly very interested. “She what?”
Nick huffed. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It was all above board.
You can check with the teller. No forms were signed or any withdrawals or transfers made.
Chloe had asked me to consider accepting power of attorney over her affairs.
I said I needed a lot more information as to what that might involve, so we went to the bank to take a look at her finances.
I’m an accountant and I worked in the financial crimes unit for over two decades.
My brother-in-law is a sergeant in Auckland’s marine division. ”
Jonothon Wright’s eyes bugged. “Goddammit, I thought I recognised your name. You were the two idiots involved in that fuck-up in Australia a few months back.”
I snorted. “If by fuck-up, you mean helping to break a major sex trafficking ring while rescuing two of its victims, then yes, that was us.”
The detective’s glare turned steely. “No, I mean fuck-up. Word is they’re still trying to unravel the bureaucratic nightmare your actions caused.”
I caught his gaze and held it. “You’re welcome.”
Wright sighed and crossed the kitchen toward the table. “Why didn’t you mention these earlier? Belinda said you took Chloe to the post office, not the bank.”
I shrugged. “Because Chloe didn’t want Austin to know that Nick was her son. Not yet. And because Austin has signing rights on those accounts and changed the password and took her cards so that Chloe has no access anymore.”
The detective looked up, the wheels turning in his brain. “Is that right?” He returned to flipping through the printouts. “So, what am I supposed to be looking at?”
Nick walked him through everything we’d learned and what we suspected but couldn’t prove. Wright listened without comment. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking—he had that inscrutable cop expression down pat—but I thought I saw the seed of doubt in his eyes for the first time.
“This is hardly a smoking gun,” he said, shuffling through the printouts again. “There could be any number of legitimate reasons for those changes and transactions. And it wouldn’t be the first time a password has been changed so that a forgetful or confused relative can’t access funds.”
“True.” Nick closed the distance between them and looked Wright in the eye. “But it’s not like you have a smoking gun with us either.”
“Just the word of someone who might have a vested interest in getting us in trouble,” I added.
The constable walked back into the room and looked from us to his boss. “Nothing.”
I tried again. “All we’re asking is that you consider there might be other agendas at play here and please let us help you find Chloe.”
Wright held my gaze for a long moment before looking to Nick and nodding. “Fair enough, but I’m taking these.” He waved the statements.
Nick shot him a look. “Ignoring the fact you can’t actually do that without a warrant, I’ll agree to let you.” He turned to me. “You took photos, right?”
I kept my eyes on the detective. “I did.”
Wright rolled his eyes and handed the statements to the constable.
“Come on then. We’ve based the search out of the riverside car park closest to Chloe’s townhouse.
But if I hear one more thing about either of you that I don’t like, I’ll pull you from the search so fast you won’t know what hit you. Got it?”
Nick and I answered in unison. “Got it.”
“Good.” Wright flicked his hand at Nick. “You’re coming with us. Your friend can follow. On the way, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Chloe, Austin, and how you came to be here. Then you’re going to show me this scrapbook, understood?”
“Understood.” Nick lifted his chin. “But I’m going to need your full names and badge numbers in return.”
The stand-off lasted a few seconds, the two men eyeing each other like feral dogs.
It was all I could do not to laugh. Then a tiny smile tugged at the corner of Wright’s mouth and he fished in his pocket, drawing out a business card.
He shook his head as he handed it over. “You’re going to be a pain in my damn arse, aren’t you? ”
I snorted and passed between them. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Yeah, what he said.” Nick followed me to the bedroom. “We’ll meet you outside.”
Wright broke first. “Wear something warm. It’s three degrees out there.” A comment that instantly wiped the smile off Nick’s face.
The second the other men were gone, all that panic Nick had been stuffing down was finally unleashed and he grabbed me by the shoulders.
“We have to find her, Mads, and soon. She could die out there in this weather. Three fucking degrees.” He handed me his phone and the two police business cards.
“Call Jacko and Samuel from the car. Tell them what’s happening and give them the details of these jerks. I am fucking taking names.”