Free Cherry Pie by Leigh Redhead Page A

ever get hitched it’d take place in Vegas with Elvis impersonators, strippers and a shitload of Bolivian marching powder.’
    Alex shook his head at the mention of drugs. He was so straight I was willing to bet he’d never even smoked a J.
    Unlike his best mate.
    ‘I could see Sean being in that. Heard from him lately?’
    ‘’Bout a week ago.’
    ‘Miss him?’ The question, coming from Alex, made me uncomfortable.
    ‘Of course.’
    Enough pussyfooting around. I tucked my legs under me, sipped my drink and rested the cup on the coffee table. ‘So spill, Senior Constable. Why are you really here?’
    He slid an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket, handed it over and I pulled out a stack of photos. The shots were grainy and it took me a moment to realise what I was seeing. Holy shit. It was me and Trip out the back of Jouissance.
    ‘Where did you get these?’ I asked, flipping through them.
    ‘Get these? I took the fucking things.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘From a unit block behind the restaurant.’
    ‘I don’t understand. You’re looking for Andi Fowler too?’
    ‘The missing waitress? Hardly. I’m fraud. We’ve been investigating Trip Sibley.’
    ‘What’s the fraud?’
    ‘Can’t talk about an official police case. What’s going on with the waitress?’
    ‘Sorry.’ I said. ‘Client confidentiality.’
    We stared at each other over the coffee table, a Mexican standoff. I tried to look inscrutable while my mind raced at a million miles. I was dying to know what Trip was being investigated for. It had to have something to do with Andi going missing. I couldn’t help myself and broke first.
    ‘It’s to do with the suss deliveries after midnight, isn’t it?’
    I blurted. ‘The ones courtesy of “colourful” Sydney businessman Sam Doyle.’
    Alex shrugged and put on a blank cop face that infuriated me so much I briefly considered slapping some expression into it. Instead I grabbed the empty coffee cups, marched into the kitchen, clattered them into the sink and turned off the stove. Alex followed and leaned against the slatted door of the pantry, wrinkling his nose at the farty, sulphurous smell.
    ‘I’m not stupid, Alex.’ I tonged the cauliflower into a bowl, picked up a fork and mashed it into a lumpy paste. ‘You’re obviously here to pick my brains, but you know how it works.
    I won’t give up shit unless you share information with me.’
    I opened the tuna and realised he was right, it did look a lot like pet food.
    ‘I’m not here for information,’ he said.
    I snorted, mixed in the fish and opened the fridge to retrieve the cottage cheese. ‘Yeah, right.’
    ‘I’m here because I’m not the only one who recognised you in the photos. Our case is at a critical juncture and my boss ordered me to tell you to stay the hell away from Trip Sibley.’
    I was halfway through peeling the foil back on the plastic tub and froze, every muscle tense. ‘Why?’
    He laughed. ‘C’mon, Simone, you’ve said it yourself. You’re trouble with a capital T.’
    I swung around and when he saw my face he held out his palms. ‘Hey, I’m not saying you’re a bad investigator but you have to admit, things have a habit of going pear shaped when you get involved and we can’t risk tipping the suspects off. Look, it’ll only be for a week or so, just until we’ve wrapped things up. If I find out anything about the waitress along the way, I’ll let you know.’
    He thought I was a fuck-up. The whole goddamn police force did. I was about to tell him just where to shove his orders when I had a better idea. It was risky, I might not be able to pull it off, but if I did I could possibly help Andi and prove Alex wrong all at the same time.
    ‘Okay, sure. I’ll back off.’ I turned and scooped about half the cottage cheese into the bowl, added salt, pepper and Tabasco sauce, and stirred.
    ‘Really?’ He sounded like he didn’t believe me.
    I leaned back against the bench, bowl in hand, and tried