Free Murder with the Lot by Sue Williams Page B

could over all the brittle, crispy leaves. At least the raging wind might fill the murderer’s ears, distract him from my crunching.
    The full moon came out, lighting up the place. I shrank into the shadow, until the moon slid behind another cloud.
    Feeling my way along the shack wall, trying not to pant, I found the door. I paused, listening, my ears on high alert. I wished I’d paid more attention to Brad’s briefings on screaming-woman owls. Maybe their scream ends in a muffled sound, as if a hand was placed over the owl’s beak. Wouldn’t it be terrific to find it was just an owl. A lost, bedraggled owl, longing to get home.
    I edged along the dark hallway, full of the sad, musty smell of a place empty too long. A scratching sound. I froze, held my breath. Whack. Something hit my leg. Soft, but also sharp. Something way bigger than a rat. I shrieked, kicking, trying to shake it off. It just gripped on harder. A shaft of moonlight shone through the window. I looked down. A cat was clinging to my leg. It stared at me with huge eyes, hissed, then scampered off. I let out a lungful of pent-up breath.
    I headed down the hall, retracing my steps towards the back door, almost jaunty with relief. It was just the cat, that noise. A yowling cat. No one shrieking. I needed to Jif out my ears. I turned into the kitchen doorway.
    There was a shadow lurking by the door.
    I screamed as I leapt back into the hall. The shadowy maniac screamed back. Then it rushed outside, dragging a clanking bag. It was a smallish kind of maniac, I realised, as I followed it outside. A maniac with long blonde hair.
    I galloped after her, to see her race to my car and yank at the driver’s door, then open the back door, fling in the bag and scramble in over the back seat. She drove off.
    I stood, shouting, but Aurora was gone, belting my little Corolla down Ernie’s track at top speed.

I scuffed back to the shed, cursing. There was a good long wait, which gave me the chance to review in detail exactly how stupid I felt, how I should have stayed at home, how I should have turned Clarence away that night he’d first arrived. Then eventually headlights appeared on Ernie’s track. A car pulled up in front of me, dazzling and skidding in the gravel.
    Two men jumped out. Monaghan strode towards me, Terry following. In the headlights, they cast long skinny shadows across the shed. Terry gave me an anxious smile. Monaghan’s off-looking, half-shut eye was oozing. Maybe it did that when he was stressed.
    â€˜Mrs Tuplin.’ Monaghan sounded impatient.
    â€˜In there.’ I pointed at the shed.
    Terry went inside but Monaghan stayed put in front of me. He barked out a bunch of questions. What was I doing here? Where exactly had I seen Aurora? What had she said, where had she gone? And had I seen Clarence?
    â€˜And tell me, Mrs Tuplin, why do you continually snoop around this property?’
    I explained about Ernie’s phone call, his worry about the tenant. Aurora and her water bottle. My stolen car.
    Another set of headlights appeared on Ernie’s track. We stood, watching the lights approach. It was Brad, with Claire in the passenger seat. He pulled up behind Monaghan’s car. Brad gave his horn a couple of parps, as if I hadn’t seen him. They stayed sitting in the car.
    â€˜And how many more of your family do you expect to call in here tonight?’
    I wasn’t keen on Sergeant Monaghan’s tone. I might have to mention it to Victoria Police. I imagined they’d have standards about police officers’ tones.
    Terry came out of the shed, looked at Monaghan and shook his head. ‘I think we should let Cass go home now.’ Terry put a hand on Monaghan’s arm. ‘We’ll discuss all this with her later.’
    Monaghan shook off his hand and gave him an angry look. ‘Mrs Tuplin needs to answer my questions.’ His voice was a hiss. ‘It’s a serious offence