Brittle Shadows by Vicki Tyley Page A

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left. She refused to speak to me for days after that.”
    “Only days?”
    Fen’s lips twisted in a wistful smile. “I think that when you
accused Sean of coming on to you, she felt for some reason that everyone was
ganging up on her.” She raised her hand to stop Jemma speaking. “I don’t doubt
for one second that Sean did what you said he did. Unfortunately for you – for
all of us – he was the one pulling the strings.”
    Jemma ran her fingers through the tops of the rosemary growing in
the garden next to her chair, releasing the herb’s robust fragrance.
“Unfortunate doesn’t begin to describe it. Why do you think she couldn’t see
through him?”
    “I don’t know. She obviously saw something in him that we didn’t.”
    “What about Ash Bartlett? What happened with him and Tanya?” She had
heard his take on it, now she wanted to hear a female perspective.
    Fen gave a little laugh. “Darling Ash. Honestly, I think he was too
nice for your sister’s tastes, not to mention a bit on the young side. She
loved him, though, just not in the way he wanted. Sean made it his mission to
sever that relationship.”
    “Why though? Surely, he didn’t feel threatened?”
    “Not threatened: not exactly, anyway. He just wanted to control her,
and Ash was a bugbear in that. Like we all were. I just learned to play the
game better.”
    The more Jemma heard, the more she realized how much of a hold Sean
had had over Tanya. She took a breath. “Do you believe Sean’s death was an
accident?”
    Fen choked on her drink. “Tanya was right about one thing,” she
said, setting her glass down. “You’re not backward in coming forward. Are you
saying you don’t think it was?”
    The arrival of lunch saved Jemma from having to answer. She didn’t
have one to give. She didn’t know what to think. Not anymore.
    Not waiting, Fen descended on her torta with both hands and chomped
into it. Her mouth full, she made nodding motions at the exotic looking salad
in front of Jemma.
    Jemma picked up a fork and poked at a walnut. She glanced across the
table at Fen who was chewing her way through the massive sandwich with gusto,
and wondered what rules she’d had to play by to stay in Sean’s game.
    In between mouthfuls, Fen quizzed Jemma on her trip to Melbourne,
what she had been up to, who she had contacted, what she had discovered. With
nothing to hide, Jemma didn’t hesitate, hoping her frankness would encourage
Fen to do the same.
    Fen dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “So you’ve had the pleasure of
meeting the third Mrs Bartlett then?”
    “You know her?”
    “Not personally, but Tanya talked about her often enough.”
    Jemma’s breath caught. She dropped her gaze and stabbed an apple
slice, inflicting her hurt on it. The longer she was with Fen, the more she was
reminded of how little she really knew of her sister, how little of her life
Tanya had shared with her. Even before the Sean incident. “What did she say
about her?”
    “You don’t know?”
    Another stab. “Know what?”
    “Danielle accused Tanya of being Marcus’s mistress.” Fen paused,
adding weight to her statement. “Ridiculous, I know. If Marcus was having an
affair, it wasn’t with his long-time personal assistant. Of course, that didn’t
stop the witch doing her damnedest to have Tanya sacked.”
    “When did this all happen?”
    Fen pursed her lips. “Let’s see, it would be a couple of years back.
It blew over fast enough, but the undercurrents remained. Danielle didn’t try
very hard to hide how she felt about Tanya and vice versa. Marcus tried to keep
the women apart as much as possible. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”
    Jemma pushed a bruised spinach leaf around the edge of her salad
bowl. Fen was right about one thing: Tanya had been on the scene for a lot
longer than Danielle had. If there had been anything going on between Marcus
and his loyal employee, then logic said it had to have been before