All That Was Left Unsaid by Jacquie Underdown

Author:Jacquie Underdown [Underdown, Jacquie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-21T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

A knock at Chris’s hotel door. His heart skipped, hoping it was Isabelle. He was flying out to the mine in the next couple of hours and didn’t want to leave what had gone wrong between him and his wife still broken.

He threw on a shirt and jogged to the door. Apprehension made his shoulders heavy. He prayed Isabelle wasn’t going to give up on this relationship so soon. He was terrified of being thrust back into the aftermath of another separation. It hurt like nothing else to have a good relationship end.

Chris hauled the door open, but his brow wrinkled when he found a sharp-dressed man and woman.

“Chris Brooks?” The man asked.

“Yes, but—”

“I’m Detective Inspector McKenzie and this is Detective Jenkins. Do you mind if we come in and have a chat?”

He shook his head. “Detectives? What’s this about?”

“Just a few questions about Juliette Stanley.”

“Juliette? Why, what’s she done?”

They peered down the long, empty hall. “It’s probably best if we come in and chat about the matter.”

He stood out the way and gestured they enter. He was staying in a small room, the bed taking up most of the space. There was a desk along the front wall with a single chair, but that was it as far as seating went. “I don’t have anywhere to sit.”

“That’s okay. We can stand.”

The detectives stood in the centre of the small room, their presence enormous.

“Have you been in touch with Isabelle recently?” McKenzie asked.

“We spoke a couple of days ago,” Chris said. “Why? What’s going on?”

Jenkins gestured to the bed. “Take a seat there, Chris.”

Chris backed up and sat down, his gaze never leaving Jenkins.

“I’m sorry to inform you of this but yesterday morning, Juliette died. At this stage, we strongly suspect she was murdered.”

Chris leaned forward, eyes bulging, and mouthed, “What?”

“I apologise for being the bearer of this news, but I assumed Isabelle would have told you.”

He shook his head again. “No,” he said, but it came out so weak it was barely audible. He coughed, attempted it again. “No. I haven’t. I had no idea. Dead? Are you certain?”

“The victim’s family still needs to formally identify the body, but it’s, ah, a certainty.”

“Oh, my God.” He lowered his face into his hands. After a long moment, he lifted his head, gaze darting between the two detectives. “How?”

“She was bludgeoned with a heavy tool. We’re still waiting on an autopsy.”

His eyes were glossing. “I can’t believe this. Oh, God. Isabelle. She must be beside herself.”

“Is it out of the ordinary that she would keep this from you?” McKenzie asked.

Chris nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t even know anymore. I would have thought she’d call me immediately. She’s been on her own since yesterday?”

“A close friend has been giving her support,” Jenkins added.

McKenzie glanced around the hotel room. A suitcase sat open on the luggage holder. Bright yellow reflective high-vis shirts and blue jeans filled the insides. “So, why are you in a hotel rather than the family home?”

Chris sighed, shoulders slumping.

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