Page 32 of Wild Horses

The next day Tyler parked his car in the lot adjacent to the police station, hands lingering on the steering wheel as he gathered his thoughts.

The building loomed before him, its stark, utilitarian design a far cry from the stylish lines of his restaurant or the rustic charm of Currawong Creek.

Tyler swallowed hard. He was not looking forward to this.

He adjusted his collar and entered a lobby bustling with activity.

Tyler approached the front desk, stated his name and was asked to take a seat.

He pulled out his phone, checking the time again, even though he knew he was early.

Tyler’s mind was filled with questions. The fire had been ruled an accident eleven years ago.

Why had the investigation been reopened?

What new evidence had surfaced? He swallowed hard, wondering just how deep the police would dig; wondering what they might find and what truths might be revealed.

‘Mr Ward?’ A uniformed officer approached.

‘Detective Sergeant Hunter is ready for you.’ Tyler was led down a labyrinth of sterile, dimly lit hallways to a small interview room – bare except for a table and two chairs.

Inside a small, rather dapper-looking man introduced himself.

His neatly trimmed beard was greying at the edges, his thinning hair neatly combed and slicked back with too much gel.

Hunter gestured for him to take a seat, his eyes sharp and searching.

‘Why has the case been reopened?’ Tyler asked.

‘I’m not at liberty to disclose that information just yet,’ replied Hunter, his tone flat, giving nothing away. ‘Let’s focus on what you remember from the night of the fire. And is it okay if I record this chat?’

Tyler tried to order his thoughts. ‘Grace wasn’t supposed to be there,’ he began, his voice slightly hoarse.

‘The restaurant was closed that night due to a gas leak that was due to be fixed the next morning.’ He paused, swallowing hard, his hands clasped tightly together beneath the table to keep them from shaking.

‘I stayed at the restaurant later than expected, talking to the gasfitter. I’d lost my mobile phone earlier that day, so I hadn’t been able to call Grace to say I’d be late. ’

Hunter watched him, unblinking, occasionally taking notes.

‘When my cab arrived home I found Leo, but not my wife. The babysitter told me Grace had been worried when she couldn’t reach me and had gone to the restaurant.

’ Tyler’s voice cracked. ‘Then I got a call – the restaurant was on fire.’ He paused, the words catching in his throat as he relived the panic that had seized him then.

‘I rushed back, but by the time I arrived, the place was fully alight, firefighters everywhere ...’

He trailed off, the image of the burning building seared into his memory. ‘They found Grace after the fire was extinguished. She’d almost made it to the door but ... but she died of smoke inhalation.’

Hunter set down the pen, his expression unreadable. ‘What was going through your mind when you were told of the fire?’

Tyler exhaled slowly, feeling the old grief rising.

‘Alarm ... worry ... confusion,’ he said.

‘I couldn’t believe it. I was frantic, terrified for Grace’s safety.

And then ... then the guilt, because she went there looking for me.

If I hadn’t stayed so late, if I hadn’t lost my phone .

..’ His voice faded, the words dissolving into air.

‘And how did you feel about your wife?’

‘I adored her.’ Memories of Grace flooded in: her radiant smile, the way her laughter lit up a room, the warmth of her embrace. With each recollection, the ache in his chest grew until it felt like his heart might burst.

‘Grace believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

She pushed me to follow my passion, to be the best I could be.

She wasn’t just my wife and the mother of my child; she was my best friend, my partner in everything.

’ The words spilled out with a rawness that surprised even him.

‘Grace was my whole world. Losing her, well ... it broke me.’ He gazed out the window at the grey, unremarkable parking lot that somehow mirrored the desolation he felt inside.

‘And you never remarried?’

‘No.’

Hunter set down his pen, and for a moment he silently acknowledged Tyler’s pain. ‘Mr Ward, I understand how difficult this must be for you. We’re simply trying to piece together what happened that night and find out if there’s anything we missed.’

‘And you can’t tell me what’s caused your renewed interest?’ asked Tyler.

Hunter’s show of sympathy evaporated and he shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

As the interview progressed, Hunter shifted topics to the financial state of the restaurant. ‘Can we discuss the insurance claim you filed after the fire? Was the Club Kitchen facing any financial difficulties?’ His tone was neutral, yet the implication of the questions was clear.

Tyler shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘My accountant filed a claim to cover the damage. I mean, the entire place was destroyed and I needed the money to rebuild,’ he said.

‘But the restaurant was performing well. Like any business, we had our ups and downs, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.’

Hunter nodded, jotting down notes, then looked up sharply. ‘Were there any individuals who might have had a motive to harm your restaurant? Rival chefs, disgruntled investors?’

‘I only had the one investor.’ Tyler scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Enzo Fontana. He was more of a silent partner, really. A close friend and mentor as well – godfather to my son.’ He paused. ‘Enzo died shortly after I lost Grace.’ His voice broke as he remembered. ‘It was a terrible time.’

Tyler’s reticence grew with each question.

How could he bear to revisit such pain? He leaned back slightly, creating a small but perceptible distance between himself and Hunter.

‘I can’t think of anyone who would have wanted to burn down the Club Kitchen,’ he said, perhaps a little too defensively.

‘We had a good standing in the community.’

Hunter continued to probe, his eyes squinting slightly as he assessed Tyler’s responses.

‘No disputes with other businesses? No disagreements with partners or stakeholders?’ asked Hunter, eyes keen as a hawk’s.

‘Take your time, think it through. Sometimes, people harbour grudges or resentment without us even realising it.’

Tyler licked his dry lips. ‘No, Detective Sergeant, nothing like that.’

The silence stretched between them for what seemed like forever until finally Hunter closed his notebook. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Ward. I was wondering if you’d mind me taking a look at the restaurant’s books. Perhaps your accountant has kept them?’

‘You’d be welcome to, but I changed accountants shortly after the fire.’

Hunter took a card from his wallet and handed it over. ‘I’d appreciate it if you’d email me with the details of your old firm just the same. I’ll be in touch if I have any further questions.’

Tyler stood up, feeling drained, aware he’d disappointed Hunter, and feeling bad about it.

The man wanted to discover why Grace had died.

They were on the same side. So why was it so hard to open up?

His mind kept returning to the heavy breather on the phone.

Should he mention it to Hunter? No, it was probably just some crackpot. He’d had crank calls before.

Although eager to get out of there, Tyler lingered in the room a while longer – long enough to cause Hunter to raise a questioning brow.

‘I want to thank you for what you’re doing for Grace.’ Hunter acknowledged his words with a nod. ‘And if you’d keep me updated with the investigation?’

‘Of course.’

When Tyler stepped out of the police station, the brightness of the day jarred. The sun was too bright, the sounds of the city too loud. And the sick feeling in his stomach grew with every step. He hoped that he’d be strong enough to deal with whatever the investigation revealed.