Good evening, my beloved readers. I feel I need to apologise for the slow pace of this story. Jack and Phryne somehow decided that they wanted a bit of a breather after their serial killer experience and I wasn't ready to argue with them. So this is going to be a long, but hopefully enjoyable little tale with plenty of room for their private affairs. I also am sorry, if I should have traumatized anyone with my lavender visions; it was not my intention to change your take on those lovely flowers. ;)

Chapter 9: Hazelnut

It was early afternoon by the time the two slightly dishevelled detectives walked hand in hand through the rose covered gate to Wombat hall. The rest of the party was littered throughout the gardens, mostly under a couple of pear trees that were spending enough shadow for the assembled family members. Aunt Esmeralda was the first to notice their arrival and hurried towards them.

"There you are. We were starting to get worried. Rudolf returned some time ago, saying you sent him away. We weren't sure what that meant."

"Probably, that you should invest in a hearing aid for your driver," Jack grinned with no real annoyance. He had enjoyed his time alone with Miss Fisher, even though sweat was now pouring down the back of his shirt and their clothes had suffered a bit from their roll in the lavender – even though they smelled heavenly. Obviously his aunt noticed it too, as she was currently staring at them in open confusion.

"We took the shortcut across the gully," the Inspector finally explained, before she could ask. "And Miss Fisher had a slight incident with a lavender field."

Phryne laughed at this.

"I fear my heels aren't made for cross-country walking. Mind you, it is beautiful countryside."

There was a dangerous glitter in Aunt Esmeralda's eyes. So she knew. She didn't ask however, but smiled broadly, taking them back to the party. Phryne Fisher was relieved. She had been right about Jack's aunt, there was more to her than her surface promised.

"Will, Wendy, this is the Honourable Phryne Fisher, Jack's fiancée."

The lady of the house obviously enjoyed her introduction and Phryne played along. With polite friendliness she uttered greetings, shook hands and smiled. Jack's brother looked nothing like him she realised with some curiosity. He was taller and broader with a round, friendly face. Actually her reminded her more of a young Walter. But the way he moved was exactly the same as Jack and his voice might have been even a shade deeper than her Inspector's. She watched the brothers greet each other and something about it touched her as pained. They were nice to each other, familiar even, but there was a certain distance that she couldn't lay her fingers on. She was shaken out of her reverie by a little girl approaching her.

"I'm Lizzy," she said, extending her hand.

"Hello, Lizzy," Phryne said, shaking the girl's hand very politely, holding back a grin. "I believe, Jack has told me about you."

"I'm uncle Jack's niece," the girl stated, without blinking an eyelid.

"Yes, I kind of figured that," Miss Fisher smiled. "He did mention he had an incredibly adorable niece."

"Yeah, he says silly things like that."

This was delivered with such calmness that Phryne Fisher had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Yes, yes, he does."

She glanced up to see the mother of the girl watching them with warm eyes. Wendy Robinson might not have been a classic beauty, she was a curvy woman with straw blonde hair, fitting perfectly to the country-side setting she currently walked in, but there was something about her, an aura of calm happiness, that made Phryne take to her straight away.

"Please excuse me," the girl said. "I haven't said hello to Uncle Jack yet." And off she went. The friendly politeness got lost somewhere on the way and instead, Lizzy Robinson threw herself with something near a howl into her Uncle's arms who caught her with ease and picked her up.

"You have grown, since I last saw you," he stated calmly, holding the girl over his head.

"That's because I'm growing fast, Mummy says."

"Your Mummy is a very clever lady," Jack said, relieved that his niece seemed to have forgiven him easily for not dropping by as much as he'd used to. He set the girl gently back on her feet.

"Yes she is. But your lady is very beautiful."

Jack proudly glanced at Phryne who was watching them with Wendy, while the women chatted along easily.

"Yes, isn't she?"

"Does that mean, Aunt Rosie isn't coming anymore?" Lizzy asked and silence fell. Throats were cleared and Jack could feel Will stiffen beside him, ready to sweep his girl away and berate her for being so nosy. But he was quicker.

"No, Lizzy, Aunt Rosie is not coming back. Her and me just didn't get along very well anymore. That happens sometimes."

For a moment, everybody was holding their breath. Seemingly oblivious to the screeching halt she had put to everybody's conversation, Lizzy Robinson nodded and then smiled, extending her hand.

"Have you seen my tree, Uncle Jack? It has grown even more than me."

Jack searched out Phryne's eyes as he was dragged over the grass towards the back of the house, where trees had been planted for the birth of every child in the family since Wombat Hall had been in the hands of the Cox-Staffords. To his relief, she didn't look like the mention of his first wife had upset her much and he returned his attention to the girl chattering along with an air of utter satisfaction to finally have her uncle to herself again.

In fact, Miss Fisher, in whose hand magically had appeared a glass of champagne, was less worried about Rosie's name falling in itself, but more by the stony expression on Iris Walker's face. When Jack's cousin realised, who was watching her, she forced herself to smile at Miss Fisher, which didn't make the detective in the slightest bit more comfortable. She excused herself from Wendy and Esmeralda and walked over to the woman, wondering how to approach her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Walker," she smiled sweetly, settling beside the woman who looked like she wanted to run away. Instead she nodded politely.

"Miss Fisher."

"This estate is very beautiful," Miss Fisher tried after a long, uncomfortable moment of silence. "Did you spend your childhood holidays here too?"

A fond and genuine smile crept over the pretty features of Mrs. Walker.

"We all did. Will was a pest back then, Amanda and Laura wanted to play princess all the time and Hazel was constantly blubbering, because everybody was older and mean to her. But Jack was always hiding somewhere with his nose in a book. I think he devoured Hamlet, when he was twelve years old."

"Heavy reading," Miss Fisher pointed out.

Iris Walker laughed, half drifting off into the photo albums in her head.

"True, but that never stopped him. I'll never forget the feeling of lying in the grass of the enchanted garden and listening to Jack reading silly poems to me."

The feeling was actually faster than the realisation coming along with it. Something about this statement deeply unsettled Phryne, throwing her off her inner balance. The picture of Jack and Iris lying in that garden with Ivy growing over its walls, a curious fish watching them. There was no doubt what the enchanted garden was and Jack had shared that he had spent his boyhood days there – but he had failed to mention the company. Phryne swallowed hard, letting her eyes fly over the assembled people. She guessed every single one of them had stories like this one to tell, of Jack when he was ten or 15 or 25, doing silly things, clever things, lovely things, long before she had entered his life. She encountered an emotion at the thought, that in want of a better word, she would have called jealousy. Here were the people that loved Jack too, knew him, cared for him. For the first time in their acquaintance, Phryne realised, that he wasn't just "her" Inspector. He was also "their" Jack. She had to share him.

The notion confused her somewhat and so she was rather glad when Rupert Walker wandered over the grass towards them, luring his wife away with some whispered words. Iris smiled geuninely at Miss Fisher as she excused herself and Phryne tried her hardest to return the smile, but she was too deep in thought to really care. She turned, looking for a familiar face, but found only Jack's family - no Inspector, no Mac, not Dot, no Jane. Thankfully, also no Aunt P. Mrs. Stanley had redeemed Walter Cox-Stafford's promise of giving her a private tour through the halls and he had willingly obliged.

"The girls headed for the lake some time ago," A friendly voice beside her said. "Would you like me to show you the way?" Olivia Morgan asked. Phryne switched her smile back on and shook her head. She was Miss Fisher, for God's sake. She could deal for a while on her own. But the dark blue eyes surveying her, seemed to look right through her facade.

"I'm sure, they can take care of themselves." Phryne smiled, draining her glass in one big gulp.

X

In fact, the girls were currently enjoying themselves, possibly even Laura. She had joined them for company, but didn't seem overly fond of bathing and instead sat in the shade, playing with her child, who had turned out to be a boy by the name of Fred junior. Dot was currently chasing Jane through the knee-deep water, trying to splash her, while the laughing redhead escaped her with ease. Mac was leaning against the trunk of a small tree, fully clothed, but with her sleeves rolled up, carving at a piece of driftwood with her pocket knife. She looked up to watch Hazel come towards her in her bathing suit, water drops glistening on her tanned legs, her long hair now undone and sticking wetly to her back. The doctor looked back down quickly, while the brunette grabbed a towel and fell beside her into the warm grass.

"So you work as a doctor in Melbourne, do you?" she asked when she had caught her breath.

"Yes, I do."

"Must be an exciting occupation," the girl smiled, looking at Mac. Elisabeth had no choice but to tear her attention away from the piece of wood in her hands. There was a drop of water hanging in Hazels dark lashes. Up close it was evident that her eyes fit her name perfectly. They were of a earthy shade of green, with tiny dots of gold sprinkled through them. Mac found herself gulping.

"Since my friends seem to be mostly busy chasing killers and getting their lifes into danger quite regularly, my occupation pales somewhat in comparison," she heard herself say.

"Must be hard having friends like that," Hazel stated, stretching out in the sun.

Mac threw the driftwood aside and buried the blade into the ground.

"Phryne is brilliant," she said. "And she is the most loyal of friends."

She felt the look of her companion burn on her skin even hotter than the sun. Finally she turned her head, wanting to ask impatiently why she was being stared at.

"Are you in love with her?" Hazel Morgan asked levelly. Mac wasn't sure, what surprised her more. That someone guessed her secret 'abnormality' so easily or that the woman had come to the conclusion that she was in love with her best friend. Probably it was simply the bluntness with which the question was asked that shocked her. It took her a moment to shut her mouth.

"No. I love Phryne, but not in that way."

"You do talk an awful lot about her."

Elisabeth MacMillan chose to ignore that comment. It was true, she talked about Miss Fisher a lot. Because she liked her, enjoyed her company and was proud to call her a friend – and because Phryne's life was that much more exciting than her own. Romantic love didn't come into it. She didn't tell Hazel that. Instead she decided to go for honesty.

"I was with someone, a bit less than two years ago. Daisy; she was murdered."

The younger woman stayed utterly silent at this. Quiet laughter was heard from further down the beach, where Dot had finally succeeded.

"Phryne and Jack found her killer and made sure I didn't go to prison," the doctor smiled. "Well, actually Dot did first. The murderess wasn't happy with her."

"I'm sorry," a quiet voice beside her said with absolute sincerity. Mac had almost forgotten, who she was talking to.

"It's been a long time ago," she said, picking up her knife and snapping it shut. The soft breeze blew some dust into her eyes, making them feel a little more watery than she would have liked.

X

By the time the table was set for the afternoon tea, Phryne Fisher was pleasantly tipsy and had engagend in more meaningless conversation than she had in years. She needed to get out of here. She excused herself from the company of Will and Walter, nodded at Aunt P, who looked like she was just about to launch onto her niece and stumbled up the steps to the veranda. The house was cool and quiet and Phryne took a moment to lean against a wall, closing her eyes. She wanted to like Jack's family and really, she did, but they were too much to battle on her own. She longed for some company who didn't ask her what she was doing, didn't want to hear any suspenseful detective stories from her and certainly didn't enquire after her wedding date. The Inspector hadn't reappeared in an hour and a half, lost somewhere in the gardens with his little niece, who he probably read stories to as well. Phryne carefully beat her head against the cool wall, trying to shake some sense into herself. She was not going to start being jealous of Jack's attention to five year old girls.

It was bad enough that she was actually wondering now, if Iris's hostility towards her was only grounded in her friendship with Rosie or if it was at all possible that there was more behind it?

Not that she seriously considered any romantic entanglement, yet, the idea of the two teenagers lying in the soft grass together, Jack reading Shakespeare to Iris, seemed a bit much. Miss Fisher shook the thoughts off as fast as she could and slipped up the stairs. She needed to have another look at the crime scene, needed to get her head back on the job. There was no point in pondering what she could not change.

Just when she pulled up the seam of her dress to reach the knife in her garter that would ease her way through the office door, a hand fell onto her shoulder.

"You are not intending to break into a crime scene, are you, Miss Fisher?" a voice full of humour asked. She spun, finding herself trapped between the door and Jack Robinson, who looked at her with sparkling eyes.

"What if I am?" she asked grinning mischievously. He leaned in.

"I suppose I would be forced to stop you."

Now he was so near that the smell of his skin took her breath away. Before she could come up with an answer, he closed her mouth with his lips, trapping her body against the door with his own. Phryne could hear her blood pound in her ears, as her fingers slipped into his hair. When he pulled back, his eyes had darkened and she felt silly for having worried.

"We'd best get through this door, before anyone sees us, Inspector."

Jack murmured his approval, without moving or releasing her.

"Jack!" she laughed, gently pushing him back to free herself. Finally the DI surrendered to the demands of the job at hand and produced the key to unlock the door. Silence greeted them between the now untouched shelves full of folders. Jack Robinson switched on the lamp.

"I am going to have to head over to Hepburn Springs tonight to inform Miss Spencer's sister of her death. I would prefer to be actually sure she is dead, however," he stated conversationally, riffling through the desk of the victim.

"Have you talked to the local police?" Phryne asked from somewhere in Uncle Walter's office.

"Yes, I just got off the phone. They are only too happy to hand over the case. Supposedly they are busy with a horde of stolen ducks."

Miss Fisher's head popped through the door.

"Ducks?"

"Big birds, like to swim. You know, ducks," Jack grinned, pulling open a drawer that housed a diverse collection of pencils.

Miss Fisher rolled her eyes and returned to her search for something, anything, that could give them a hint of where Madelyn Spencer might have vanished to or why someone would have killed her.

"I have also talked to Uncle Walter. He had noticed she seemed rather overdressed this morning, but avoided his questions about it."

Phryne nodded into the Persian carpet, she was currently inspecting for any specks of blood. She also hadn't missed the rather fancy dress the assistant had worn when she had walked in during breakfast, but then, who was she to judge?

"Anything?" Inspector Robinson asked, stepping through the door.

"Nothing. Not a stray hair," Phryne sighed, getting to her feet.

"Damn."

Jack ran his hand through his hair, dishevelling his perfectly sensible cut somewhat. It gave him a look of adventure that made Miss Fisher's knees weak.

"So I will have to talk to this woman and tell her that her sister's body has vanished from a locked room. That is going to be a fun conversation."

He slapped his flat hand against the wall in frustration, staring at the floor as if he could find the solution there.

"Do that again," Miss Fisher said. His eyes flew up. Then it registered. He gently knocked against the wall. The hollow sound was obvious. Phryne stepped beside him and carefully they covered the wall with their knuckles.

"It's at least as big as a door," Jack stated breathlessly. "Something like a priest hole maybe?"

"I don't believe Catholics were ever persecuted in Australia, Jack," Phryne said sweetly, getting excited herself now. Jack didn't answer, searching the wall for the edges of the hidden door. Miss Fisher was busily inspecting the bookshelf.

"Does your Uncle read much?" she asked.

"Not if it isn't about politics or hunting," Jack panted, from where he was crouching on the floor, still feeling in vain for any edges.

"I didn't think so." Miss Fisher stated, pulling out a rather dusty book on Greek history that had probably stood in the same place since the 1860s. Jack looked up in surprise, when the bookshelf swung open, revealing a dark hole in the wall.