Page 32 of Sharing Forever in Hope Creek (Hope Creek #2)

‘Only long enough to see there was nobody there. I wanted to get back to Hope Creek to be with Callie, so I decided that rather than hanging around Lancaster, I’d drive to the police station at Hope Creek to report what I’d found out to the officers there.’

The female detective maintained a stony composure, giving nothing of her inner thoughts away. ‘You drove straight from Lancaster Police Station to Hope Creek Police Station?’

‘Yes. Roughly forty minutes back to Hope Creek, a quick stop at the police station because, once again, it was unmanned, then I drove directly back to the homestead. I didn’t look at the time when I arrived back there, but Jim Richardson said earlier today to Rick and Gary that he noticed we all sat down to dinner at 7. 20 pm.’

‘And after dinner?’ Detective Fahy probed.

‘I was at the homestead until Gary and Rick arrived this morning and asked me to accompany them here to the station.’

‘Which means that Mr Marshall’s movements are accounted for during the timeframe of the murder,’ Sian stated baldly. ‘Apart from the testimony that Jack and the victim exchanged words yesterday afternoon—’

‘More than an exchange of words, counsel. Your client made threats,’ Detective Fahey corrected, ‘and the secretary said Mr Thompson was acting as though he was scared of your client.’

‘Acting being the operative word! His whole demeanour changed when Brianna arrived.’ Jack couldn’t keep the scorn from his voice as he replayed the scene from yesterday.

‘And if he was scared at all it was because I was going to report him to the police!’ Jack protested, ignoring Sian’s advice to be silent.

Sian’s lips compressed for a second as she shot a heated look at Jack. ‘Regardless of any words exchanged or the secretary’s speculation as to the way Mr Thompson may or may not have been feeling, you don’t have enough cause to hold Jack Marshall on the suspicion of murder.’

The female detective turned to her male counterpart and gave a barely perceptible nod.

Jack sat forward, literally on the edge of the chair as the man left and the woman sitting opposite him maintained a poker face.

‘On the contrary, counsel, my colleague will return with more evidence.’

Seconds later Detective Marr returned and handed some papers to the female detective.

‘Do you recognise this?’ Detective Fahey asked Jack as she held a photo out to him.

Jack looked at the image and saw the object that appeared to be covered in blood. ‘It’s a tyre jack.’

‘It’s currently with a forensics team in Melbourne, but we believe it will be identified as the murder weapon,’ the female detective said. ‘It was found in the bushes in the garden outside the cellar room where Thompson was murdered.’

‘How convenient you didn’t have to look far to find it.’ Sian’s voice was laced with disdain.

Unease crept up Jack’s spine, locking each of his vertebra rigidly in place.

‘We received a search warrant for your rental car.’ The detective’s voice was matter of fact and she glanced casually around the bare room, but Jack sensed she was about to strike.

‘There was no tyre jack in it, and yet the company you hired it from in Melbourne said there was one in the boot when they hired it to you.’

‘No more questions,’ Sian said in a steely voice.

‘No,’ Jack said. ‘I have no idea whether or not—’

‘Enough, Jack!’ Sian warned.

Jack ignored her again. ‘I haven’t needed to change a tyre so I have no idea whether or not the car had a jack. But if it was from the hire car, it’s clear someone’s trying to frame me. I haven’t touched it. Look for my prints on it! You won’t find any.’

Detective Fahey didn’t reply. Instead, another photo was thrust unceremoniously across the desk. ‘Do you recognise this?’

Shit.

Jack felt as though his chest hollowed out. It was impossible for him to draw another breath as he saw the photo of a shirt sprayed with blood.

My shirt.

His shirt, or at least one that was identical to the one he owned—one he’d worn only this last week.

He felt his jaw sag as he took in the gruesome image. It was horrific, yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from it.

His stomach churned and bile rose up to burn his throat.

‘It’s your shirt, isn’t it, Mr Marshall?’ Detective Fahey pressed.

‘This interview is terminated. Turn off that recording device immediately,’ Sian demanded.

Jack guessed his reaction told his lawyer everything.

‘This shirt was found in your car, stuffed under the driver’s seat.’ Detective Fahey’s voice had become louder and her tone more aggressive as she leaned across the table and pointed her finger at Jack. ‘You murdered Andrew Thompson, didn’t you, Mr Marshall?’

‘No! I did not!’

‘You’re out of line, detective.’ Sian didn’t need to raise her voice. ‘I’ve instructed my client not to answer questions and you will not badger him.’

Jack glanced sideways at her and saw why the detective had stopped in her tracks.

The steel in his lawyer’s voice was nothing compared to the cold, hard warning in her eyes.

The female detective stood. ‘Be advised that we have been granted the right to hold your client for twelve hours. At that point, it’s likely he’ll be formally charged with murder.’

No way! This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t really be happening.

‘Interview terminated at …’

Jack didn’t absorb the rest of Detective Marr’s words. His eyes were drawn back to the picture of his shirt while the female detective’s words rang in his head …

This shirt was found in your car, stuffed under the driver’s seat.

You murdered Andrew Thompson, didn’t you, Mr Marshall?

Nauseous didn’t even come close to describing the way he felt as he absorbed the shocking truth.

Someone had framed him for murder.

Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to frame him for murder.

How the hell was he going to prove his innocence now?

And Callie … She hardly knew him. How was she going to react to this?

‘Can you arrange for Callie to visit me here?’ he asked Sian. ‘I need to talk to her.’

Sian shook her head. ‘Other than legal counsel, you won’t be allowed any visitors right now, Jack.’

‘Then can you please contact her for me? Can you tell her what’s going on? Can you make sure she knows I’m innocent?’

The slight softening of Sian’s features and the light of empathy in her eyes told him she’d registered the desperation in his voice. ‘Give me her contact details and I’ll speak with her. I’ll call Jacinta too.’

She pushed a pad and pen along the tabletop to him and he grabbed it and thanked God he had a brilliant memory as he wrote Callie’s number down. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Sian stood. ‘Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. If they do charge you, I’ll work on getting you released on bail as soon as possible.’

Those words didn’t do anything to cheer him up.

He’d been through tough times before but, for the first time in his life, Jack knew what it meant to be worried sick.