Triple Threat

By Ak Leigh

They're beautiful, accomplished, and they have identical interests...

In their spare time, identical triplets the Farris sisters work together to solve cold cases. Lizzie uses her skills as a Criminal Profiler, Nina her Scenes of Crime Officer experience, and Carrie assists through her work as a both a Forensic Scientist and Forensic Anthropologist.

Romantic and idealistic, Lizzie is picky about men. But despite the good–natured teasing of her sisters, she refuses to settle for anything less than 'The One'. She loves her life, her job as both a profiler and a university lecturer, and her sisters, and won't make changes for anything less. If that makes her unrealistic, then so be it.

Gabe Montcoeur has just moved across Australia from Perth to Cairns and starts a job as a journalism teacher at Cairns University: the same university where Elizabeth Farris works. On the surface, the move seems innocent, but he has an ulterior motive. Gabe wants to elicit the aid of the Farris sisters in solving the murder of his family members, and the only way to circumvent their notorious 'no contact' policy is to reach out to them in person.

But when Gabe meets Lizzie for the first time, the attraction is instantaneous – and mutual. The deeper they fall into each other, however, the more guilty Gabe feels about his real motivation for getting close. Lizzie wants the real deal, the one, true love – can Gabe ever offer her the future she deserves if he keeps holding on so tightly to the past?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Apr 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489241016

Ak Leigh

A.K. Leigh is a multi-genre, hybrid romance author. She is a huge Michl Jackson fan, martial arts movie buff, ex-professional astrologer, amateur astronomer, and identical triplet. She holds a post-graduate degree in counselling, which enables her to create rounded and complex characters. Her other qualifications include a recently completed COA (certificate of achievement) in both Forensic Science and Forensic Anthropology. When not writing, she is hanging out with her three energetic children, and one grumpy cat, in Queensland, Australia. She is a proud member of Romance Writers of Australia. Visit her on the web at www.fallinlovewithleigh.com and on social media at www.facebook.com/AuthorAKLeigh and on Twitter @AKLeighAuthor.

Book preview

Chapter 1

She smiled as a cool, late spring wind from the direction of the esplanade weaved through her loose curls. At least the weather was pleasant tonight. That made the wait in the restaurant’s line bearable. While the couple ahead spoke with the maître d’, she scanned the interior: low lighting, a single red rose on each table, crisp white tablecloths. It would be romantic if she weren’t there with her two sisters. She focused back on the couple and frowned.

What’s taking them so long?

A grumble in her tummy made her hold a hand to it. Why hadn’t she grabbed something to eat on the way home from the university? Or taken Malcolm up on his suggestion of a late lunch when she’d cancelled their dinner catch-up—that’s what he’d called it, though she knew what he’d really meant. He was trying to win her back, but it wasn’t going to work.

An image came of the over-tanned dark-blond adventure blogger she’d dated a month earlier. Though many women found him physically attractive, and she was one of them, she’d soon discovered there was nothing more to it than that. On her side at least. That’s why she’d called it off. She was right to do so, regardless of what her sisters thought.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the maître d’s strong French accent, ‘I’m sorry, monsieur. As I told you—twice already—we are full. You will need to wait in the bar until a table opens.’

Oh great. Nina wasn’t going to be happy about that development. Why hadn’t they come earlier?

She peered over her left shoulder. Nina was standing behind her, an impatient expression on her face. Her ash-blonde ringlets were in a loose bun style, with a couple of free strands framing her face. ‘I don’t think we’re going to get a table tonight.’

‘Don’t be too sure of that, Lizzie.’

Her sister nodded toward the maître d’. When Lizzie glanced back, she caught the man’s leering stare.

On her right, she heard a groan. ‘Here we go again.’

It was her other sister, Carrie.

The three of them approached as they were greeted, ‘Bon soir. Welcome to L’Amour de la Nourriture … you are the Farris triplets, no?’

Lizzie ignored the question like she usually did. ‘We were hoping for a table. Mais nous avons pas de réservations.’

He flashed a half-impressed, half-sleazy grin at her when she switched to his native tongue. ‘There is no need for a reservation. I believe a table has just opened.’

Normally, Lizzie would have argued at the injustice of being placed ahead of the previous couple, but her growing hunger pains made her reply, ‘How convenient for us.’

The man beamed at her, seeming to have missed the sarcasm in her tone.

She noted the death stare aimed at her from the couple who’d been told to wait. Clearly, they weren’t as dazzled by the identical triplet thing as the maître d’.

Although she mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ at the couple, a twinge of guilt remained.

As she walked on, she heard Nina tease, ‘I think he’s in love with you.’

She pulled a face at her older—yes, three minutes counted—sister and retorted, ‘Be careful, or I’ll skip out before dessert and leave you to pay the bill.’

Their younger sister—yes, three minutes counted—laughed, ‘I’m in on that plan.’

‘Let’s order the most expensive dish.’

Carrie winked, ‘Would serve her right for dragging us to these posh places all the bloody time.’

Nina cut in on their teasing, ‘You’ll thank me for the lesson in culture one day.’

Lizzie and Carrie burst into laughter. There was only so much culture one could get in Cairns, and she was fairly certain their big sister had tapped the market already. Nina shot them an unimpressed scowl. That only served to make herself and Carrie laugh harder.

The maître d’ stopped. A glance at their location made Lizzie sigh. He’d led them to a table in the middle of the room. All the better to be gawked at like zoo animals. She should have known. They were never coming to a restaurant again when they had no reservation and could not prearrange their seating.

The man waved a hand, ‘Mesdames, votre tableau.’

Lizzie offered a forced nod to the man, ‘Merci.’

She didn’t add a ‘beaucoup’. She wasn’t very thankful and couldn’t pretend to be.

Her sisters gave him an equally tense nod and didn’t bother to say thank you in any language. Obviously, they’d noticed they were the star attractions too. The man rushed around pulling out each of their chairs. That was when Lizzie noticed the stares from the other diners. The whispers came a second later. Great. Even in the so-called classy hotel restaurants, people didn’t attempt to be polite about it.

The maître d’ bowed his head and announced, ‘I’ll send the waiter over to give you the specials right away.’

He eyed each of them up and down then flashed a toothy smile before he left them alone.

Nina groaned, ‘Thank goodness he’s gone.’

Lizzie shook her head, ‘Don’t get too excited, the waiter hasn’t had his turn yet.’

Carrie sighed, ‘Please let it be a female this time.’

‘Why? They’re just as bad …’ Nina made her voice a pitch higher as she mimicked the way women often reacted to seeing the three of them together. ‘Oh my God, you all look exactly the same! Your hair is soooo pretty. Is it natural?’ She grunted, ‘Half the time I say no just to stop the questions.’

Carrie chuckled, ‘Well, at least they don’t make the stupid innuendos.’

Lizzie nodded. Why did the men think they were being original? ‘Triplets do it three times better.’ Followed by a wink. ‘You must be a triple threat.’ Followed by a wink. ‘Do you have the same taste in men?’ Followed by a wink. They’d heard it all before, numerous times. Even the headlines in the newspapers detailing their crime-solving exploits had become clichéd, somewhat sexist, and uninspired.

Carrie added, ‘And what was with calling us mesdames, we’re not that old yet!’

‘We’re thirty-one, little sister. Our days of being called mademoiselles are over. Better get used to it.’

Carrie frowned at Lizzie’s response, which made the latter grin.

Nina changed the subject, ‘Can we get back to the reason for our meeting?’

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, ‘This is a meeting?’

‘It is.’

‘On a Saturday night?’ They’d gone to this uppity restaurant just to discuss a case? ‘I cancelled a … get-together with Malcolm for this. I thought we were having sister time.’

They’d had a motto for as long as she could remember: sisters first. Always. That was the main reason she’d cancelled. Though, if she was being completely honest, another conversation with him about why they’d broken up hadn’t sounded enticing anyway.

‘We can do that too. Once we’ve discussed the cold case.’

Carrie grizzled, ‘Couldn’t we have met at your townhouse and ordered pizza? Or gone to the night markets? At least then we could have done some shopping afterwards.’

Lizzie added, ‘Or gotten a massage.’

‘Ooh yeah, massage!’

There was always a cheaply priced decent massage available at the Cairns Night Markets.

Their older sister pressed her lips together, her usual sign of frustration at them, and snapped, ‘I spend my weekdays dealing with murder, robbery, and general human ugliness. I think I’m entitled to some beauty and relaxation at the end of the week, don’t you?’

A lump of shame formed in Lizzie’s throat. She knew how hard her sister’s job as a Senior Constable for the Scenes of Crime Unit in the Cairns Police Force was. She saw how it affected her, even though Nina rarely admitted it. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carrie’s expression flatten into remorse. Their little sister had reached the same conclusion.

Lizzie reached over and gave her big sister’s hand a pat, ‘Of course you are.’

Carrie squeezed Nina’s other hand. ‘We were just teasing. Sorry.’

Nina smiled. They were forgiven. ‘Thank you.’

Carrie said, ‘That’s okay.’

‘Yeah, I’m not interested in getting back together with Malcolm anyway.’

A slow smile crept over Nina’s lips. Then she laughed. ‘Of course you’re not.’

Lizzie pouted, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

She knew. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation over the past fifteen years of her dating history.

‘You know exactly what it means. You’re too fussy.’

‘What Nina means to say is your protective instincts hit too soon and you put a wall up.’

Lizzie shook her head, ‘It’s not that. I’m just discerning.’ She saw her sisters exchange a look. She exhaled. Why couldn’t they get it? She tried again, ‘Look, I know you two think I romanticise love—’ Carrie interrupted with a sarcastic snort. Lizzie threw her a ‘stop it’ look, then continued, ‘But true love exists. I know it does. I feel it. Here.’

She tapped the centre of her chest.

Neither Nina nor Carrie responded. They didn’t understand what she was talking about. Neither of them were big believers in romance and everlasting love. Their personal experiences had given them that viewpoint. She could understand that. But it left her with a problem: how could she explain the deep sixth sense she had that The One was out there for her … as well as for both of her sisters?

It was something, like an inner knowing, that she’d never doubted since they were little girls. She hadn’t told either Carrie or Nina, but the feeling had intensified over the past six months. She had no idea why. If she were braver, she would have told them that she was sure the men were on their way for all three of them. In fact, if they weren’t all with their soulmates by this time next year, she’d be shocked.

Too bad it sounded insane to say out loud. Even so, it had made her unable to waste time. If a man couldn’t show her they were the right fit within a month, they were gone. That was reasonable, wasn’t it? Certainly better than wasting three years on someone before coming to the same realisation. She glanced at her younger sister. Like Carrie did.

Nina offered her a sincere smile, ‘I think it’s sweet that you can still feel that way after everything we’ve witnessed and been through.’

Lizzie smiled, thankful for her eldest sister’s attempt at understanding. She knew she wouldn’t get the same from Carrie, the eternal pessimist where love was concerned. She had to grin when her little sister said nothing.

Filling the silence, Nina said, ‘Speaking of what we’ve witnessed, if either of you still need time out, I can file this one away until you’re in a better headspace?’

Recollections swirled through Lizzie’s brain. A child, sexual assault, domestic violence, murder. The last cold case they’d worked on had been emotionally and psychologically taxing on all of them.

Lizzie shook the memories free. ‘As long as there’s no murdered children involved, I’m good.’

‘There’s not.’

Carrie nodded, ‘Same. I can’t deal with more dead kids right now.’

‘It’s a murder case, but an adult this time. We spoke about it at the time. I think you’ll remember. It made Australia-wide news. The Baronie murder.’

Lizzie nodded, ‘Mm. I remember, but the details are a tad sketchy.’

‘Oh yeah. If I remember correctly, she was that rich socialite, wasn’t she?’

Nina faced Carrie. ‘That’s right. It’s a puzzling one though … the body of Maryann Baronie was found in the Pontomic River in Perth, just over three years ago. There were rope bindings around her wrists and ankles, and the coroner stated cause of death to be—’

Carrie interrupted with a sarcastic remark, ‘Drowning.’

‘Yes, but this is where the confusing part comes in. There was evidence of trauma to the head before the drowning occurred. Enough to suggest that the victim could have been knocked unconscious from it.’

Carrie replied, ‘Ah, so it’s unclear whether the suspect thought she was dead and tried to get rid of the body by tossing it in the river, or whether the killer knew she wasn’t dead and took her to the river to finish off the job?’

‘That’s right.’

Lizzie added, ‘So we need to figure out if this is a manslaughter or murder charge as well?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Is it known whether the river was the first or second location?’

‘The forensic and autopsy reports agree it was the second location.’

Interesting. That meant the murder had been carried out at one place and the body was subsequently moved. Lizzie pulled out the notepad and pen she always carried in her purse and wrote: Victim possibly hit on the head, causing unconsciousness. Killer probably took her to the river to hide or dispose of the body—unlikely that the murder happened at the river according to forensics and autopsy—causing her to die by drowning. Did the killer know she wasn’t dead before throwing her in?

Carrie asked, ‘Was it blunt or sharp trauma?’

‘Blunt.’

Which meant it was something like a baseball bat, smooth surfaced rock, metal pipe, or other unsharpened, though solid object that had knocked Maryann out.

Lizzie added the words ‘blunt trauma’ to her notes then peered up. ‘Any theories on why she was tied up?’

‘That is another odd part about this case. The educated guesses in the police reports have suggested it probably happened before the head trauma occurred. Maybe she wasn’t co-operating so she got hit on the head to settle her down? Having said that, there was no evidence of a struggle at the binding sites.’

‘Which means she didn’t fight against the bindings?’

‘Right.’

‘Which she likely would have if she’d been tied up while conscious?’

‘Yes.’

‘So it makes little sense that she was bound before the head trauma, and even less after it?’

‘That about sums it up.’

Lizzie jotted it all down, then looked up.

Carrie exhaled. ‘Fantastic. Another easy one.’

Nina shrugged, ‘That’s the reason they’re cold cases. If they were easy, we wouldn’t be investigating them.’

Lizzie gave a sarcastic chuckle, ‘Then why do we do this again?’

Nina smiled, ‘To help people like us.’

With a straight face, Carrie quipped, ‘What? One sixty-fourth Aboriginal people?’

Nina rolled her eyes, ‘Ha, ha. You know what I mean.’

‘Ugh. I know. You just sound like Lizzie saying it like that.’

‘Hey. What does that mean?’ Lizzie threw Carrie an unimpressed, though not angry, look. She knew Carrie well enough to know this had the makings of a joke.

‘Sappy.’

Lizzie grinned, ‘A little sappiness won’t kill you, you know?’

‘It might. Besides, we’re not the only orphans in the world.’

Nina replied, ‘Yes … but you know I didn’t mean that either.’

Their little sister always tried to lighten the mood whenever the subject of their parents came up.

Carrie responded with a sharp nod and looked away. ‘I know.’

A sudden sombreness enveloped them.

Nina cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, we’re getting off topic here again.’

Lizzie straightened, and asked, ‘Are there any suspects?’

‘So far the only suspect is the husband.’

Carrie scoffed, ‘Isn’t it always?’

Lizzie gave her sister a warm smile. She understood where Carrie’s disillusionment