Free The Investigator by Chris Taylor Page B

with his predicament and had congratulated him on his devotion to Rosemary for so many years. They knew it couldn’t have been easy for him, caring for an invalid wife.
    He’d made all the right noises and had accepted their murmured words of support with gratitude and humility. He’d thanked them for their concern.
    His plan had been brilliant. He’d continued to foster the impression that Rosemary’s condition had worsened. And then, he’d made the announcement: He’d arranged for her to go on a holiday—a four-month cruise. It was probably the last holiday she’d have.
    Despite recent setbacks, he was still confident the plan would work. The day after she was due to return to Watervale, he planned to make it known the holiday hadn’t been able to slow the downward turn of her health and he’d had no choice but to settle her into a nursing home in Sydney. He’d make it clear it was what she wanted and that it was for the best.
    No one would question his decision and if the truth were known, no one would even care. In recent years, Rosemary had kept more and more to herself. The few women she’d fostered friendships with had either faded away or had been the wives of his police colleagues. He was more than confident there would be no questions asked from that quarter.
    Watervale would continue as normal. In time, Rosemary Watson would be forgotten. Eventually, it would almost be like she’d ceased to exist.
    It was only with the return of her daughter that his plan had begun to fray at the edges.
    Darryl drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing the tension to ease from his shoulders. He was damned if he’d let his stepdaughter ruin everything. He would do whatever it took to see his plan through, including thwarting the overeager detective.
    Pretending to get confused over his wife’s departure date had been a stroke of genius. It was further proof he had nothing to hide. The detective would know an officer of Darryl’s experience would make sure he had a watertight alibi, if it came to that.
    It would stand to reason that if he had something to hide, he’d have the date of Rosemary’s departure fixed firmly in his mind. Appearing confused about something so important as the date her cruise departed—in effect, the last time he’d seen her—was not an expected way to maintain his cover, if in fact, that was what the detective assumed Darryl had been doing.
    Detective Munro .
    Darryl frowned in thought. He’d discovered the man had transferred from a command in Sydney. That, in itself, was suspicious. The fact he had family in the nearby area didn’t cut it. No one as young as Munro elected to be transferred to a backwater like Watervale without being prompted from someone higher up.
    There was more to Munro’s transfer than he was letting on. Darryl would bet on it and he never wagered on something he knew he wouldn’t win.
    It was just the way he was.

 
    CHAPTER 7
     
    Kate secured the sash of her thick terry housecoat around her waist and picked up the cup of hot soup. She sank into the motel room’s solitary armchair and tried to focus on the evening news that blared from the television a few feet away.
    She took a bite of her microwave dinner and sighed. Not exactly gourmet dining, but she hadn’t felt like socializing and the room service menu had been unilaterally uninspiring. In a town the size of Watervale, word was probably already out that she’d returned. No doubt her disappearance a decade ago had conjured up wild stories and people would be keen to see her for themselves.
    Not that she cared what anyone thought. All she wanted was to find her mother and return to her life in London. She might have told Detective Munro she suspected her mother had met with foul play, but for all of her suspicions, she hadn’t given up hope Rosemary was still alive and that there was a reasonable explanation for her lack of communication.
    A sharp rap at the door caught her attention.