‘In here please,’ Rachel said, pointing to a formal lounge that was drowning in beige. For some reason Kim found herself disappointed in the woman’s creativity. She would have liked to see colour, personality, something that matched the fire with which they’d just been met, but she saw decor that matched the house and not the person.
‘What you told my brother is absolute bullshit,’ she said, standing behind a caramel velvet chaise.
‘We heard you the first time, Mrs Hewitt, but the facts remain that your father, brother and sister were shot, and the gun was found in your mother’s hand.’
‘Are you sure it was that gun?’
‘I’m sure the ballistics report will return a positive identification.’
‘It’s impossible. I’m telling you.’
‘Your mum didn’t shoot guns?’ Kim asked.
‘Yes, she shot. Nothing live. She couldn’t stand the thought of killing an animal, but she shot tin cans in the paddock. My father insisted she learn how to use one because of living rurally.’
Kim said nothing. It wasn’t impossible as she stated and she knew it.
‘It couldn’t have been accidental?’ she asked, twirling the chunky chain around her neck.
‘Your siblings were shot as they slept, Mrs—’
‘Rachel, please. And my father?’
‘Your father appeared to have tried to defend himself.’
‘He wasn’t asleep?’
Kim shook her head. Rachel probably wanted to believe that none of her family members had known what was going on.
‘We believe that the first two shots to Lewis and Rosalind—’
‘Rozzie,’ Rachel interrupted. ‘She abhorred her name. Everyone called her Rozzie.’
Kim nodded her understanding. ‘The sound of the first two shots appeared to wake your father, but he couldn’t get to your mother before she shot him.’
She visibly paled at the pictures that were forming in her head.
‘Sweetheart, I just need to—Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise.’
A suited man Kim assumed to be Rachel’s husband had burst into the room.
‘Police officers,’ Rachel explained and then looked him up and down. ‘You can’t possibly be going into the office.’
‘Pleased to meet you. Daryl Hewitt,’ he offered in their general direction before turning back to his wife. ‘I have to, love – the team needs reassurance. I’m sure they’ve all heard the rumours. We need to steer a steady ship in the face of the shock—’
‘What about my shock, Daryl?’ Rachel asked as her eyes filled with tears. ‘How can you leave me at a time like this? I’m not a bloody employee. I’m family and they’re all gone. I need you here. Mia needs you here.’
‘Mia is sound asleep,’ he said, crossing the room and taking her in his arms. Kim should have felt embarrassed at being privy to the tender moment, but she didn’t and she quickly understood why. It wasn’t a moment where a husband was offering genuine comfort or support. He wasn’t shouldering any of her anguish. He was simply giving her a hug as he stared over her shoulder. His body was wrapped around his wife, but his spirit was already halfway out the door.
‘My husband works for the family business,’ Rachel said, taking a handkerchief and wiping her eyes.
‘Managing director,’ he corrected, as though his title mattered to them. Quite honestly, she didn’t care if he was the tea boy.
‘William left the running of the business to me when he retired.’
‘Okay,’ Kim said. ‘And how well did you know Helen?’
‘Rachel and I have been together seven years, married for five, so I’d say I knew her quite well. Helen was a wonderful woman, who could be unpredictable at times. I’m sure you know that her mental health was—’