Underground

Chapter 2

Sam's unit was on the top floor of an older four-storey brick building. The balcony had an unobstructed view of the coast. The council had pushed up the rates as developers had their eye on the site for another luxury apartment block. Our grandparents had bought this holiday unit as an investment in the early eighties. It had given my grandfather the option of early retirement if they sold it. They couldn't bring themselves to part with it, so when they had both passed away, I inherited the house and Sam got the unit. This arrangement suited us both. Sam liked the view and being closer to Louise, and I loved being hidden away behind the wetlands.

We sat on his balcony, letting the sea air fill our lungs. The cool breeze kept me awake. Sam's ever-vigilant eyes scanned the street below. Traffic bottle-necked at the traffic lights, with two lanes trying to merge into one.

"You know what I found weird?" I started.

"Besides the whole thing?" Sam smiled.

"I'd gone into the en-suite to check on the shop assistant, and I smelled Dune."

"What?" he asked.

"The perfume. Mum used to wear it all the time. You'd know it if you smelled it," I told him. "She had bottles of perfume all over her chest of drawers, but no Dune."

"Maybe you just thought it was Dune. The shop girl wasn't wearing it?" he asked.

"No. She had some sweet body spray on. I took notice of that once I smelled the Dune. I think someone had been in there not long before us."

He looked at me and squinted, his forehead wrinkled with his frown. "Did you tell Lou that?"

"No. I just thought of it."

"You didn't go through her stuff, did you?" Sam asked, holding his breath. "She might keep perfume in a drawer as well."

"I didn't touch anything. I'm not that stupid." I just took photos. I thought I would keep that bit of information to myself for a while. "There were heavy drag marks on the carpet. The chair she sat in wasn't in its original place. I reckon it was dragged to the window with her in it."

"She could have moved it herself," Sam countered.

"It didn't look that heavy, and I can't imagine her moving it. Her place looked like it was ready for a magazine shoot except for that chair."

"If she planned on ending her life, she probably didn't care what the place looked like."

"I doubt it. That wouldn't be her style. She was immaculate."

"We're looking at surveillance footage from the lift. If someone else went up there, we'll see them." Sam sighed. He was staring at the breaking waves, though I doubted he was taking in the glorious view. His jaw worked overtime. I didn't want to break his train of thought.

I pulled out my mobile phone, pretending to check for messages, and clicked through the photos. I stopped on the one I had taken of Rebecca. She had been dressed in tight black track pants and matching polo shirt. A zip-up jacket hung across the back of the lounge chair. I stared at the photo for a while and closed it. I sat the phone on the table.

"Rebecca was dressed in exercise gear. If you were going to kill yourself or shoot up, why would you go for a run?" I asked.

"To clear your head?" offered Sam. "To give yourself time to change your mind or build your confidence to go through with it. Maybe that's what she wears at home. It is winter."

"Did she have drug issues?" I asked.

"Yeah. She was known for her parties. I've heard rumours that she was busted for heroin back in the nineties, but Nick knew enough people in the right places to make it go away."