Date With Death: A Montana Morgan Mystery

By Chris Rolfe

Montana Morgan is an Private Investigator, whose sister is bludgeoned to death.
Montana’s ‘blind’ date is arrested on suspicion of murder, but did he really kill Cassie? Montana hopes not.
Can Montana find out who really killed her sister before she herself suffers the same fate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483551029

Book preview

EPILOUGE

PROLOGUE

Andrew Flanagan. Tall, blonde, tanned and athletic. My perfect man. I first met Andrew five years ago in Fiji. We were holidaying at the same resort. He was sunbaking on the beach and I completely missed him. I was so engrossed in the book I was reading, I literally tripped over him. As soon as our eyes met, I could feel electricity between us. I offered to buy him dinner as a ‘sorry’ for disturbing him. He gladly accepted, but insisted on paying.

That night, after a few cocktails at the bar followed by a beautiful traditional Fijian dinner, we ended up back at his bungalow and had the most amazing evening. We talked all night and I could not believe that we both lived in the same town and had never run into each other.

For the next two weeks, Andrew and I were inseparable. We did everything together. It was the best two weeks of our lives and, when it was time to return home, we knew that we were meant for each other.

We had planned on having a long and happy future together, complete with lots of kids. Well, at least four. The perfect fairy-tale but, as it turned out, without the ‘happily ever after’.

It was then, two years ago, when tragedy struck. Andrew and his best mate, Matt Robinson, had gone away for an abseiling weekend. They were due back on the Sunday. I remember it vividly. I was vacuuming, when suddenly I was overcome with a feeling of being shrouded in cold vapour. Goose bumps erupted on my arms. I knew there was something terribly wrong and that somehow it involved Andrew. It felt like my heart was being ripped out. I was falling into a black abyss.

I was in a zombie-like state, fearing the worst, when Matt rang to tell me that Andrew had fallen down a cliff face. Matt was hysterical. He was talking to me, but everything sounded blurred. I couldn’t comprehend anything, but heard snippets ...‘helicopter…hospital…dead.’ Dead! I stopped listening. Numbly holding the phone, eyes staring, not thinking, Matt yelled, ‘Are you listening to me? I’m telling you Andrew’s dead.’

Matt’s yelling broke my reverie. ‘I know.’ I told him, my voice flat. ‘I knew before you rang.’ I hung up and just stood there, tears welling in my eyes. I don’t know how long I was standing for, but when the room started to spin, faster and faster, I couldn’t keep my balance. I crumbled into a heap on the floor. My whole world went black.

For days I didn’t eat or sleep. I just stayed in bed. My sister managed to find a doctor who was willing to make a house call. He prescribed Valium. Without it, I don’t think I would have been able to take care of the funeral arrangements.

That was two years ago and I’ve only just come to terms with my grief.

* * * *

CHAPTER ONE

It was around 9:30 pm when my phone rang. I had angrily left my sister’s place a couple of hours beforehand. ‘Hello, Cassie.’ I snapped, thinking it was her ringing to apologise.

‘Hi, Montana…it’s Dick. Dick Thompson.’ His voice had a hesitant edge to it. I remembered Dick from a barbeque at Cassie and Bob’s place last month. Dick reminded me of Danny DeVito. He had dark hair, with a rapidly receding hairline. He gelled his hair back, which made his forehead look abnormally large, and his face was plump. Dick wasn’t as short or as plump as Danny and, from what I’d seen of him, I’m sure he didn’t have the same sense of humour. Dick’s wife, Tammy, got really drunk the night of the barbeque and fell off the back patio and broke her arm.

‘You need to get over to your sister’s place … right now.’

He had hung up before I could ask him why, but from the tone of his voice, I wasn’t going to argue.

When I arrived at Cassie’s, Dick was waiting out the front for me. ‘I didn’t know who else to call.’ He was very pale and clearly shaken up by something. ‘Be prepared for the worst,’ he warned.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Cassie was sprawled on her lounge room floor in a pool of blood. Her hair was matted and stuck together in clumps. It looked like she’d had her skull smashed to a pulp. Blood, brain matter and skull fragments dressed the walls in blotchy patches and covered the lounge suite and coffee table. Dick was close by and caught me when my knees gave way. He led me outside where I threw up over the balcony. ‘She’s dead,’ he said. As if it wasn’t obvious. ‘I checked.’

Dick started talking in my ear. I couldn’t make out a single word he was saying. It was like an annoying buzzing that wouldn’t stop. My head was swimming and I was trying to steady myself on the balcony railing, but my legs wouldn’t hold me. I felt like I was on a ship in really bad weather and couldn’t keep my balance. I crouched down, holding on tight to the balcony’s railings for support. I closed my eyes.

‘I’m dreaming, it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,’ I whispered. Then that buzzing again, droning on and on.

I opened my eyes. It was dark. I was still on Cassie’s balcony. I wasn’t dreaming. The horror of what I had seen sank in. I couldn’t get away from it.

My breath became ragged and I had trouble breathing. There was tightness in my chest. I started to hyperventilate and my head started to spin. I was going to pass out.

I closed my eyes. Taking deep shaky breaths, I tried to get my breathing back to a steady pace. I no longer felt like I wanted to pass out, but then, like a wave, everything started to sink in.

I felt alone and helpless. I burst into tears. It was like losing Andrew all over again. Sobs racked my very core. A hanky was thrust in front of my face. I noisily blew my nose and wiped the tears that refused to cease. I offered Dick his hanky back, but he shook his head. It seemed like an eternity had passed. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself.

‘I’ve called the police,’ Dick almost whispered.

I just nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I knew from experience that the General Duties police would attend first, to confirm the situation.

While we were waiting for the police, I tried to sort through the confusion in my brain. I had only left Cassie a couple of hours ago and now she was dead.

I thought back to yesterday when everything started.

* * * *

It was early afternoon, I had to make a mad dash to answer the phone before it went to voicemail. Gasping for air I answered ‘Hello, Montana Morgan.’

‘You have to come over tomorrow. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.’ Cassie sounded excited.

‘Not another one?’ I knew my sister well and setting me up on blind dates was her latest pet project.

‘Don’t be like that. It’s not my fault the others didn’t work out. Look, just suss him out and see what happens. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

‘Okay, I’ll meet him,’ I agreed, somewhat reluctantly. ‘What time?’

‘Three-thirty. Wear something nice. See you then.’ Then like a whirlwind, she was gone.

I rolled my eyes as I hung up. Great, another one. God, I hope this one’s an improvement on the last two!

* * * *

I arrived at Cassie’s a little late.

‘Come in, come in,’ Cassie greeted me, eyes twinkling. Her dark curls bounced as she spoke. It was hard to believe we were sisters. My hair was shoulder length blonde and dead straight. But we both have blue eyes. She was a good two inches shorter than me and a couple of pounds heavier, which she attributed to having children. Cassie wore her hair parted in the middle and sported a short fringe. I could see the line of grey in her part and at her temples where she needed to re-dye her roots. The disadvantages of having dark hair, I thought. I was lucky. My few wisps of grey only served to lighten my colour.

Cassie wasn’t blessed with good teeth either. Both of us had had braces as teenagers, but she couldn’t put up with hers and got stuck into them with a pair of pliers. When she laughs, which is often, you can see a mass of silver fillings.

Cassie gave me a quick top to toe and looked at me disapprovingly. I had chosen to wear my everyday jeans and a plain polo shirt. I did put some makeup on, but only a smidge. I wasn’t planning on dressing up. ‘He will just have to accept me for who I am and how I look. Besides, look at what you’re wearing.’

Cassie wasn’t wearing any makeup, was dressed in an old pair of shorts with a loose fitting caftan style top, all of which had paint stains, and wasn’t wearing any shoes. ‘I don’t give a shit what I look like; he’s not coming to see me.’

My sister, the ever tactful one. ‘You didn’t tell him I’m a private investigator, did you?’

No. I told him you were a secretary who works for an accountant. Even more boring than what you really do.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

‘What did you do with Bob and the kids?’

Cassie’s expression sullied. ‘They went to Canberra for the weekend to watch the footy, thank God! Bob and I had the biggest fight. So probably better we have a bit of time out.’

Robert Tanner, my brother-in-law, and Cassie’s two kids, Rebecca, 8, and Robert Junior, 5, were all mad keen, green machine Canberra Raiders’ supporters. Each time their team played at home, they’d be at the stadium cheering them on. Usually Cassie shared their enthusiasm for football, but obviously something was amiss.

‘What happened?’

‘I don’t want to get into right now because Graham will be here any sec, but I’ll fill you in tomorrow, promise.

‘Here he comes.’ We both peered out of Cassie’s window using the curtain net to hide our curiousness.

I watched as a tall hunk of man walked, or should I say sauntered, up to my sister’s front gate and made his way up the path. Oh, my God! I did a double take and realised I was standing there with my mouth open. He was drop-dead gorgeous. His dark hair was gelled back, showing a very prominent ‘widow’s peak’. He wore khaki cargo pants and a polo shirt with some sort of emblem on the breast. I couldn’t make it out from where I was gawking, but I wasn’t really interested in that. I estimated that he was about six foot three inches tall and probably worked out, if the circumference of his upper arms was anything to go by. His sleeves were stretched to capacity. If he had a tan, that would have really topped off the whole package. But, then again, he was probably the sensible type that didn’t sun bake. Not like me.

I couldn’t stop looking at him. It was as if he was walking in slow motion towards Cassie’s front door. Something that I was immensely grateful for. Where on earth did my sister find him? I suddenly wished that I had made more of an effort to dress up.

Cassie rushed off to answer the front door as Graham approached. I don’t think he even had time to knock. Cassie was smiling as she returned to the kitchen, Graham following closely behind.

‘This is my sister, Montana Morgan. Montana, this is Graham Walsh.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ I said, shaking his hand. And I was too, really pleased.

‘Likewise.’

Cassie ushered us out the back door to her patio. She had wine and beer in a bucket of ice and a tray of nibbles set on a brightly covered table.

As we arranged ourselves around the table, Cassie handed me a light beer, a full strength to Graham and then proceeded to pour herself a glass of wine. I noticed that the bottle had already been opened and was only half full. I wondered if she had already had a few drinks before we arrived.

The low afternoon sun shone directly onto the patio, warming the area.

And there we sat. I don’t think anyone knew what to say. Graham was the first to speak. ‘So, you’re sisters?’ We nodded like a pair of dogs in the back window of a car.

‘You don’t look alike.’

I shrugged. What can you say to that?

‘Montana was adopted. Mum and dad found her under a cabbage leaf,’ Cassie said, and we all faked a laugh.

This was going to be a fun afternoon. Not! I racked my brain, but couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘So…’ Graham tried again. ‘Are you both locals?’

That was enough for Cassie, she was off. ‘Yep, we were both born here. Our grandfather, we call him Opa, he was Dutch and was one of the one hundred thousand people from over thirty countries brought to Cooma for the construction of the Snowy Mountains Hydro-electric Scheme, which is one of the civil engineering wonders of the world’. She emphasised quotations with her fingers.

I knew that once Cassie started on about our family history, she wouldn’t stop. When she paused for a breath, I jumped in.

‘Cassie’s just finished researching our family tree and is a major history buff, if you haven’t guessed.’ I interjected. I gave her the look that meant shut up, no-one’s interested in that crap except for you, but she didn’t take the hint.

She was off again. ‘Our dad was only a baby when Opa came to Australia. He worked for the Snowy Corporation for several years, but because he missed Oma so much, he returned to Holland. Years later, not long after dad married our mum, they both immigrated to Australia. Opa had told them so much about Australia, and Cooma in particular, that mum and dad decided they wanted to see it for themselves. Within days of settling in Cooma, dad managed to get a job with the Snowy as well, following in Opa’s footsteps.’

‘Do your parents still live here?’ Graham inquired.

Cassie fell silent. It was my turn to reveal a bit of history. ‘Our parents were killed in a car accident several years back.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Graham placed his beer on the table and laid his hands flat in front of him.

I gave Graham a tight smile. Cassie was still quiet. ‘So, You’re a prison officer. Do you work with Bob?’ I asked, changing the subject.

‘Yeah. I’ve not long transferred down from Goulburn gaol and Bob and I just seemed to hit it off, even though he’s a higher rank. He’s an AS and I’m a baggy.’

I gave him a blank look.

‘AS is Assistant Superintendent and a baggy is a First Class Correctional Officer.’

‘Ohh.’ It struck me as odd that if he and Bob were mates, why wasn’t he here? Or did Bob have a problem associating outside of work with a lower rank? I mulled that over as Cassie found her voice again.

‘Graham, you’d know an inmate by the name of Peter Robinson?’

‘As a matter of fact I do. Is he a friend of yours?’

‘Oh God no. Peter’s brother, Matt, was Montana’s fiancé’s best friend.’

There it was. Cassie and her verbal diarrhoea.

Graham looked at me. ‘I didn’t realise you were engaged.’

I opened my mouth to explain, but Cassie was on a roll. ‘Andrew was killed two years ago in an abseiling accident.’

‘I’m really sorry, Montana.’

I forced another tight smile and started to imagine weird and wonderful ways of how I was going to kill my sister. Now I was positive that she’d had several wines before I’d arrived ‘Do you hear much from Matt nowadays, Montana?’ Cassie asked.

‘Occasionally,’ I responded, trying to keep my temper in check. I think Graham must have sensed tension in the air too. ‘So…before transferring to Cooma, I use to work at Goulburn gaol, as I said. There are some funny stories I could tell. I remember one day when I was in the gate house, with the gatekeeper, chewing the fat, as you do, and this inmate comes up to the gate and says Gate chief. The gatekeeper said Yes, very good and tomorrow I’ll get you to identify a tree.’

Cassie burst out laughing. I smiled, even though I was still cranky with her.

‘So, how do female prison officers cope, working with all male inmates?’ I asked not knowing what else to say to keep the conversation going.

‘Most cope quite well. I think the key is to have a good sense of humour. One female friend of mine was supervising showers and an inmate came out, dropped his towel and said, so, what’s this? and