PRAISE FOR SARAH BARRIE’S LEXI WINTER BOOKS

‘Phenomenal. Lexi Winter is the gritty hero I didn’t know I needed … I’m now desperate for more.’

—Bestselling Australian author Nicola Moriarty

‘Right from page one, Barrie puts her foot on the accelerator, and it doesn’t leave the floor until the final pages. Vendetta is relentless. Polished prose, sharp dialogue, and so many twists that you will find it difficult to put this down.’

—Better Reading

‘With its fantastic lead character, tense drama, and thrilling action, the Lexi Winter series is an excellent crime series, and Vendetta another absorbing read.’

—Book’d Out blog

‘Barrie has produced an impressive and fast-paced crime thriller with Retribution. Following complex protagonists across several compelling investigations, this is an awesome read that is guaranteed to keep readers on their toes.’

—Canberra Weekly

‘This quick paced thriller stuns with many heart-stopping moments of danger, violence and destruction. Intense, fast moving and consuming, I was completely on edge while reading Retribution.’

—Mrs B’s Book Reviews

‘Dark, propulsive … relentless and filled with unexpected twists and turns.’

—The Australian on Retribution

‘Dark, gritty and filled with unexpected twists and turns, Retribution is brilliant and picks up to a relentless pace in the second half. Don’t start reading this before bed … there’s no way you’ll be able to put it down.’

—Better Reading

‘Sarah Barrie at her nail-biting, heart-stopping best in this riveting novel of a flawed, gutsy heroine who emerges from a dark past to prey on the predators.’

—Bestselling Australian author Tea Cooper on Unforgiven

‘A gritty, twisty journey of suspense. Recommended.’

—Canberra Weekly on Unforgiven

‘If you like a read that keeps you on the edge of your seat, this addictive, suspenseful thriller is for you.’

—Woman’s Day on Unforgiven

‘There is drama and suspense aplenty in this gritty tale.’

—Sunday Telegraph on Unforgiven

SARAH BARRIE is the author of eleven novels including her bestselling print debut Secrets of Whitewater Creek, the Hunters Ridge and Calico Mountain trilogies, and a crime series starring Constable Lexi Winter. In a past life, while gaining degrees in arts, science and education, Sarah worked as a teacher, a vet nurse, a horse trainer and a magazine editor, before deciding she wanted to write novels. About the only thing that has remained constant is her love of all things crime.

Her favourite place in the world is the family property, where she writes her stories overlooking mountains crisscrossed with farmland, bordered by the beauty of the Australian bush, and where, at the end of the day, she can spend time with family, friends, a good Irish whiskey and a copy of her next favourite book.

Also by Sarah Barrie

Secrets of Whitewater Creek

The Hunters Ridge Trilogy

Legacy of Hunters Ridge

Shadows of Hunters Ridge

Promise of Hunters Ridge

The Calico Mountain Trilogy

Bloodtree River

Devil’s Lair

Deadman’s Track

The Lexi Winter Series

Unforgiven

Retribution

Vendetta

Endgame

www.harpercollins.com.au/hq

To the survivors, especially to the one

I am privileged to call my friend.

May the series you inspired encourage others

to embrace their courage,

confront their pasts, and become the incredible

people they are meant to be,

just as you have.

CHAPTER ONE

Saturday, October 7

The two twelve-year-olds giggled and shushed each other as, beers in hand, they quietly shut the fridge and tiptoed to the back door. Jacob’s dad was throwing a post-game barbecue tomorrow for the footy team so he’d never notice a few missing cans from an overstocked fridge. Jacob knew the door squeaked when it got to about the half-open mark, so he was careful to open it just enough for him and his best friend Aaron Baker to slip through. Aaron bumped him as he squeezed past and fumbled one of the beers. Jacob’s eyes widened, his breath hitching in panic until Aaron managed to pin the can against his stomach and readjust his grip.

The breath fell from Jacob’s mouth in relief, sending both boys into a fit of fresh giggles as they raced to the back gate. He had his little red camcorder ready—the one his grandma had given him a couple of Christmases ago. His older brother Bobby said it was a stupid present ’cause phones can record everything, but Jacob liked it. He could store videos on memory cards and stash them away ’cause his dad kept an eye on his iCloud account. Yep, this was the perfect way to spy on Bobby, without Dad or Bobby finding out.

Bobby had snuck out earlier to join the party down on the beach. Dad had said he couldn’t go ’cause they’d swapped the party from Friday night to tonight and he needed to be at his best for the charity game tomorrow—the rep coach was going to be there. But Bobby had wanted to see some girl and had taken off as soon as Dad had started snoring. Bobby was nearly nineteen so Dad couldn’t really tell him what to do, but it didn’t stop him trying.

Excitement singed in his veins as they drank the Carlton Dry and trekked the short distance through the trees to the main road. Jacob owed his brother for ratting on him over trying one of the cigarettes Billy Wilson had brought to school and sold for five dollars each. Bobby had been an arsehole since he’d been caught posting that disgusting stuff with that weirdo girl online. Jacob felt a bit bad about that. He and Aaron had set the camera up to catch them smoking pot, not doing that. But Bobby had found the camera and taken the memory card, so Jacob had had no idea what he’d filmed until everything blew up and that girl died. He reckoned Bobby deserved everything he got. And if Jacob could get some good footage of Bobby tonight, he’d hold it over him next time Bobby decided to be a jerk.

A cool breeze scattered leaf litter across the road. Wilfred Barrett Drive was bordered by tall trees and thick scrub. The sprawling suburban houses of Noraville sat to the north, with nothing but bush, beach, the cemetery and a couple of sports grounds to the south. It was a long, dark, winding road, creepy from the safety of a car, even more so on foot. And then there were the stories.

‘Have you ever seen her?’ Aaron whispered, his thoughts obviously going in the same direction as Jacob’s.

‘Nah,’ Jacob said as bravely as he could. ‘It’s just a stupid story.’

‘Nuh-uh,’ Aaron said, eyes wide. ‘One of James’s friends saw her hitchhiking.’

‘He’s just making that up.’ But he couldn’t help throwing a look over his shoulder, just in case.

‘He swears he’s not. His friend said it was really cool.’

It would probably be cool to see a ghost. But if Jenny Dixon turned up out here right now, he didn’t think it would be very cool at all. At least, he wouldn’t be. He’d probably do something really embarrassing like run away, crying.

His skin prickled and he looked around again. Wondered at every small noise in the bush around them. All dark, all quiet. Just the occasional car passing and the soft sound of the breeze teasing the tops of the trees. A few more steps and a trio of ducks burst up out of the vegetation, squawking and flapping. The boys jumped in fright.

‘We should have brought a torch,’ Aaron whispered.

‘Use your phone.’ Jacob could see the lights from the power station up ahead, together with the streetlight that pointed the way off the main road and onto the one they’d follow to the beach. ‘There’s Bungary Road. We’re almost there.’

They picked up their pace, moving through the carpark, where they dumped their beer cans, and on to the top of the long wind of steep steps that led to Jenny Dixon Beach.

‘I can hear them,’ Aaron whispered.

Jacob heard them, too. Laughing, joking, singing. He tiptoed down the first few steps until he could see the beach. A long way down was a bonfire where a couple of dozen guys and girls sat or stood around, tossing back drinks and being silly. Aaron was on his heels as they crept towards them.

Jacob was so intent on the group ahead he was almost on top of the pair before he noticed them.

‘Come on.’ That was his brother’s voice.

‘Bobby, I said no, like, three times already!’

Jacob’s eyes widened. Another silent step and he could see Bobby had a girl pressed up against the towering wall of rock that divided the beach from the reserve. Bobby’s face was buried somewhere between the girl’s throat and the low neckline of her cotton dress as she squirmed.

Jacob bit down against a giggle and pointed. Aaron moved closer and peeked as Jacob opened the camcorder.

‘You don’t really mean it,’ Bobby cajoled. ‘You came out here with me. Maybe just—’

‘Get off!’ She shoved him and he stumbled back with a laugh, hands up.

‘Steady on.’ His face was sickly sweet. ‘Just kiss me then.’

‘I’m going back to the others.’

This was even better. Bobby was getting rejected on camera.

‘Wait—’

As Bobby lunged at the girl, Aaron leant forward, phone extended. When the flash went off, Jacob’s heart dropped into his stomach.

‘Hey! Who’s there?’ Bobby called out.

Aaron turned to Jacob, face stricken. ‘Uh-oh.’

‘You forgot to turn the flash off!’ Jacob hissed.

‘Jacob! Aaron? You spying little brats!’ Bobby spat. ‘I’m going to get you!’

The boys ran, pursued by the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the steps towards them. Jacob felt the beer swish sickeningly in his stomach as he used the handrail to propel himself up, up, up. He swung around a corner too fast, crashed into Aaron and they both tripped. Aaron fell forward, the thud making Jacob flinch. Jacob pulled him up, dragging him on, limping and whimpering.

When they reached the top and Aaron went down again, Jacob shoved them into the closest bit of scrub, careful not to go in too far—there was a sheer drop down to the beach somewhere close by and he didn’t want to find it. His friend’s face was a pained grimace. Jacob tried to breathe quietly as a wave of nausea hit him. He swallowed it down as Bobby ran past. They waited. Waited.

‘Where are you!’ Bobby shouted from somewhere in the distance. ‘What the fuck!’

‘I think he’s pissed he can’t find us,’ Aaron whispered.

‘Shhh. How’s your foot?’

‘I think I twisted my ankle. It’s okay. Aching a bit.’ He started giggling. ‘Did you get the video? Who was the chick?’

‘Dunno. I saw purple hair. I can’t believe you didn’t turn off your flash!’

‘Sorry. But I bet the photo was good. Uh …’ Aaron reached into his pocket. His eyes widened. ‘Oh no! My phone must have fallen out of my pocket!’

‘Uh-oh … your dad’s gonna kill you! I’ll call it.’

‘Wait! We have to wait till we know Bobby’s gone!’

‘Maybe he found it. Maybe the photo is what he was yelling about.’ Jacob cautiously crept from the scrub, brushing off twigs and leaves as he stood, looked around. ‘I think he’s gone. He’s not gonna risk us getting back and waking Dad up and not being there.’

‘You’re probably right. But … what if he gets back and wakes your dad up and we’re not there?’ Aaron asked.

Jacob didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Okay, I’ll call your phone. We might be able to find it.’ He pressed his number and they strained to listen.

‘I can hear it!’

‘Yeah, me too. But it sounds like it’s over there somewhere.’

‘But we didn’t go over there.’

Jacob felt more than a bit sick. ‘But Bobby did. I hope he didn’t smash it.’

‘Me too. Ow!’ Aaron said as he took a step. ‘My ankle really hurts.’

‘Are you gonna be able to make it back?’

‘I hope so.’

‘You sit over here on the post and keep calling. It should light up. I’ll find it for you. Then I’ll help you walk back. Find you a stick to lean on.’

‘Okay.’

Jacob handed his phone to Aaron. ‘Keep calling until I answer.’

Jacob followed the sound, eyes scanning the tree-dotted, grassy expanse. Why couldn’t he see it? He should see the light from the screen. But wait. He turned his head from the reserve to the dense bushland bordering it. The sound was coming from in there. His heart kicked up a notch. How could it have gotten in there? Bobby was either waiting in there to jump him or … What were the chances his brother would wait around in there, even to pummel him? Slim. More like he’s tossed it in there so they wouldn’t be able to find it. So they’ll get in trouble for losing it. Yeah, that was exactly what his arsehole brother would do.

He stopped at the impenetrable wall in front of him and pushed a couple of heavy branches out of the way, almost tripped over another and picked it up. Deciding it would make a good walking stick for Aaron, he tossed it out to the path.

The ringtone cut out then picked up again. There! A glimmer of hope shot through him as a faint light penetrated the darkness. He took a couple more difficult steps in—did a quick, shuddery dance backwards as he walked into a spiderweb. He tried again, branches scratching at his arms as he did his best to protect his face. His dickhead brother was going to pay for this. The brave words in his head were a desperate attempt to ignore the uneasiness crawling over his skin as the claustrophobic darkness enveloped him.

Again, the ringtone cut out then restarted, as he followed what was now his only light source: the tiny dot that was the phone screen.

Slowly, slowly, he got closer. He noticed the ringtone sounded funny. Off-tune. Was it damaged? Shit. Aaron was gonna cop it. Ouch. He jarred his knee stepping on some uneven ground. They’d both be limping home if he wasn’t careful. He edged his way around a couple of large, rough-barked trees. He was almost there. He could just make out the bright colours of the Sydney Roosters screensaver. He was a bit disorientated from darkness and the beer but the phone seemed to be off the ground. While his mind tried to make sense of that, he stumbled upon the silhouette of the decaying tree trunk it was sitting on … and the faintly illuminated figure hunched on the ground beside it.

He jerked to a halt. It was a woman, her back turned to him, her attention on something on the ground in front of her. His eyes strained against the darkness to make out matted dark hair, a dirty white dress. She swayed and twitched, humming the tune the phone made. But the sound was just as wrong to his senses as her movements. Then something at her feet jerked and moaned.

The phone stopped ringing, all light and sound vanished. One petrifying moment bled into two. Jacob stepped back, a twig cracking underfoot as the phone flicked to life again. The woman’s head snapped around with almost unnatural speed. Her face was deeply shadowed, save for the glint of two piercing, malevolent eyes that locked on his.

Utter terror rocketed through Jacob. ‘I—uh …’ His bladder let go as he staggered backwards, unable to drag his eyes from hers. With a bone-chilling screech, she lunged, limbs contorting at odd angles as she clawed through the tangled undergrowth towards him. A scream tore from his throat.

He bolted, crashing through branches and into trees, ignoring the sticky grab of spiderwebs, the searing pain as something sliced his cheek.

Tripping and stumbling, he beat his way back, his sobs intermingling with desperate gasps of air. The fight to get out, get away, seemed to take too long, then he burst through, losing his footing as the last of the clinging branches let go. He fell, flailing, bare limbs skidding painfully across loose gravel, leaving him in a heap on the path. The silence stretched.

A hushed, malicious giggle. The same terror that had initially propelled him forward now held him paralysed.

He stared into the dark void. Helpless.

CHAPTER TWO

Sunday, October 8

The most depraved type of human being is the man without a purpose.

‘Well, I beg to differ, Ayn Rand, whoever you are,’ I mutter. I’ve somehow been sucked down a million rabbit holes of everything death, depravity and pure evil while looking for whatever books I haven’t already read on psychopaths, sociopaths, sadists—and the rest. They’re getting more difficult to find. I close the internet tab and check the time while draining the last of my coffee. Nine thirty? I’m surprised my houseguest, Cait, hasn’t knocked the door down yet.

I close the computer to pick up a favourite read on psychopaths. I really should buy more books on Kindle; my need to understand Vaughn has reduced too many paperbacks to battered relics. But I need to learn everything possible. I need to be prepared. Because as far as I’m concerned the most depraved type of human being, despite Ayn Rand’s assertions, is Damon Vaughn and he very definitely has a purpose. Me.

So what the fuck is he waiting for?

Six months into my detective training, complete with all the associated university work, I should have more than enough to occupy my mind. But Vaughn’s out there somewhere doing fuck knows what and that means my mind is never completely where it needs to be. We need one lead, just one solid he’s-in-the-country lead and Inspector Rachael Langley’s cosy little hand-picked task force will morph from a part-time skeleton crew into a colossal man-hunting machine. Hell, if I thought I could get away with making up a lead, I probably would.

Knowing what’s coming doesn’t make for an easy night’s sleep—not that I’d admit it to anyone. There’s a gnawing anxiety in my gut everywhere I go, accompanied by the kind of hypervigilance that has me wondering if I’m finally pushing at the PTSD diagnosis that’s been out to get me since childhood. Of course, if I tell anyone I’ll be kicked from the case and shoved into counselling and some sort of police protection. And like fuck that’ll be happening. I want this bastard.

A burst of laughter interrupts my pointless thoughts. Cait and her new best friend Lizzy have been in each other’s pockets for the last few weeks. Lizzy slept over following some party or other last night. On a trek out for coffee earlier I’d noticed they’d taken over the lounge and TV, feet up on the coffee table showing off brightly painted toes stuffed between cotton balls. From the sounds of things they haven’t moved far, though they’ve switched out the TV for music. Taylor Swift is several decibels too loud for a Sunday morning, but I still manage to catch the crunch of the fridge opening for the umpteenth time in the last hour as I try to focus back on some reading. Upside: maybe they don’t want me to take them to the footy club fundraiser today. I thought I was done traipsing to Noraville every Sunday once the season ended in glory a month ago, but they seem to keep coming up with reasons to keep things going and though Lizzy, a year older than Cait, has her P plates, the reliability of her car seems sporadic at best.

‘Oh, shit! Really?’

Cait’s yelp has me putting down my book and pausing to listen. There’s some sort of hushed murmuring before Lizzy’s ‘We should go out there’ rings enough alarm bells to get me off the bed to see what’s going on. Maybe they’ve just remembered the footy. Hopefully that’s all it is. Cait needs to stay out of trouble.

I open the door and almost bump into her as she lifts her hand, ready to knock.

‘Can you take us out?’ she asks abruptly.

I look the sixteen-year-old up and down. The messy, purple-streaked hairdo and heavy make-up cover more skin than the black singlet top announcing F*#k You! and the scrap of denim pretending to be shorts. Her kewpie doll tattoo blows me a kiss from one forearm while a heart bleeds out flowers on the other. If I ever find out who thought it was okay to permanently decorate a child, they’ll be wearing her singlet top slogan as a forehead brand. Only three sets of earrings glint from her ears this morning and she’s chosen the gold ring rather than small silver stud to stick through her nose. As temporary guardian, I think I’m supposed to try to parent, or at least have some sort of positive influence, but where do I start?

Small battles, I remind myself. She’s a work in progress. A few months ago, Cait was prostituting herself to an outlaw motorcycle gang for a roof and food. This war would not be won overnight.

‘Well?’ she asks almost desperately.

I stare at the nose ring. She knows I hate it. ‘Sure, let me get a lead rope.’ I get the usual eye roll. I consider whether or not to tell her to put on more clothes, she’s gonna freeze, but Lizzy’s equally as scantily attired so they can suffer it out together—last time Cait lent Lizzy a jumper, she permanently acquired it. I’m not made of money and though Cait gets a government allowance and has a part-time job, she never seems to have any.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Someone from the footy team died last night,’ Cait tells me. ‘Out at the beach near the club.’

‘Someone from the party I picked you up from?’

‘Um … yeah.’

‘What happened?’

‘Not sure,’ Lizzy says. ‘We just heard through the group chat. Cops are there now. We’re all meeting at the beach.’

My eyes narrow in disapproval. ‘You’re going to gawk?’

‘Be with our friends, you know,’ Cait says, ‘support each other. You can leave us there. We’ll catch a ride home with someone later.’

‘Who?’

‘One of the guys will drop us home,’ Lizzy promises.

One of the guys? I sigh. I don’t necessarily agree with taking her out there, but I know if it was one of my friends, I’d want to be there, and she’s not going to want to be the one left out. It took a long time for Cait to make friends and I know it’s important she has them. That she fits in, feels part of something. I also know she’s used to making her own decisions, doing her own thing, being responsible for herself and doesn’t take too well to being told what to do. I like to keep the word ‘no’ to a minimum.

‘Okay. We’ll go and see what’s happening. But I’ll hang around for a bit. If I’m not happy leaving you there, you come home. Deal?’

‘Thanks,’ Cait says. ‘Ah … I don’t suppose you could chuck fifty on my card? I’m a bit short.’

Another sigh. ‘Yeah, all right. But you’re on dishwasher duty for the rest of the week. Give me five minutes.’

* * *

I guess it’s not the biggest deal in the world that Cait’s school, her friends and the Noraville rugby team they all revolve around are up on the north end of the Central Coast and I’m a lot closer to the bottom of it, but it does make for a lot of driving. I’m about thirty minutes into a thirty-five-minute trip when it occurs to me to ask, ‘Have you booked in to sit for your L plates yet?’

‘Uh, no. Can’t afford a car yet anyway.’

‘I told you I’ll teach you in mine.’

‘Yeah, all right. Next holidays.’

You’d think she’d be keen for her freedom, but whatever. Maybe the price of petrol is putting her off. Or the having-to-savefor-a-car part. ‘Next week. Book in or this is your last lift.’

‘Got it. Oh—except I need to get my hair dyed. Can you pick me up tomorrow arvo? Lizzy’s gonna do it for me at her work after school. She can give me a lift up there but not back down after.’

‘And there’s not a train?’

‘It’s a hike to the station with all my stuff. If it’s such a big deal …’

‘It’s not a big deal to pick you up. But I don’t know what time I’ll get off work.’

‘So I’ll call a cab, I’ll just need some more money.’

‘Want to tell me why you’re so short this week?’

‘’Cause you only let me work at the gym on Saturdays.’

‘So you can have plenty of time to concentrate on your studies.’

‘Rodger offered me Thursday nights. And then you could train when you pick me up, so you’d be going more than once a week. Which Rodger says is piss-weak.’

‘I train at home! I only do a session with Rodger on Saturdays when I pick you up to keep him off my back.’

‘It’s not working.’

It’ll never be enough for Rodger. Before my last case, when I got dragged into all this fitness-slash-self-defence stuff, I’d never set foot inside a gym in my life. It still surprised me that I kind of ended up enjoying it. ‘You have tutoring on Thursdays. Let’s see how you go on your exams. You also get a government allowance.’

‘Which is nothing! And Rodger had the gym closed last weekend ’cause of the renovations and I had a heap of school stuff to buy, then I had that day in the city with Lizzy and you’re making me save for a car so …’

‘Fine. I’ll cover a taxi.’ I’m not cut out for this parenting shit. I’m sure I cave too easily.

‘And she gets a discount on the hair ’cause I’m doing it,’ Lizzy says.

‘First-year apprentices are allowed to dye hair?’

‘I’m allowed to help Janine, the boss. She’s a great teacher.’

‘Good for you. Just …’ I glance in the rear-vision mirror at the mostly grown-out, semi-faded purple mess and wonder what harm she could do.

Lizzy anticipates my sentence and grins. ‘It’ll look great.’

As I approach the carpark to the beach, I slow. The entrance is taped off and the space beyond is filled with official vehicles. ‘Ah … We’re not getting in there.’

‘Do a U-turn and park in front of Eddie’s place,’ Lizzy says as though that makes total sense to me.

I do the U-turn, follow instructions onto a side street and pull up a minute later in front of a stunning residence on a cliff overlooking the ocean. ‘Your friend lives here?’ I ask.

‘Not really my friend but one of the older footy guys. His family own New Day Clinical. The company that sponsors my share house. Thanks for the lift.’

‘Yeah, I think I’ll check things out before taking off.’ I catch the look between the girls but they shrug and Cait sends me a wave before powering ahead with Lizzy down the quiet path and into the reserve towards the beach.

I take my time, wandering through dappled sunlight under giant paperbarks, the sound of crashing waves below the cliffs marred by traffic from the nearby road and voices from people watching the goings-on. There’s a large gathering of teens around a taped-off area of scrub a bit further ahead. They’re standing in small groups, talking quietly. I spot Cait and Lizzy with a couple of girls I recognise but can’t name. Other than Lizzy, I don’t really know Cait’s friends. She tends to hang out with them at school or on Saturday arvos after work with Lizzy, so other than a quick glimpse at a post-game pick-up, I don’t see them.

‘What was that?’

The question has my gaze shooting to an older teen: a guy with spiked dark hair and a lot of lean muscle. He’s glaring at Lizzy.

‘I said maybe he did have a conscience!’ she calls back.

‘That’s bullshit.’

‘Whatever you say, Eddie!’

Another teen standing next to Eddie says something and Eddie sends Lizzy a glare then looks away with a shake of his head. I’d been considering leaving them to it, but I don’t know what that’s about and emotions are obviously running high, so maybe I’ll stick around. I sit at one of the nearby picnic benches, take out my phone and decide I may as well get comfortable.

Eddie and friends take up residence on a nearby table. Who had Lizzy said his family were? New Day something … Clinical. Purely out of interest, I look it up. I knew Lizzy was living in a share house set up for local homeless youth and that she likes it there, but not much more than that.

The website reveals New Day Clinical was established to cater to the rising demand for streamlined, economical, and top-tier execution of clinical trials in Australia. Operating autonomously from the public health system allows New Day to swiftly address client needs and expedite trial completion.

I skim over a whole lot more information to find Moreover, New Day Clinical is passionately committed to local charity initiatives aimed at enhancing youth outcomes. By providing support to local teenagers in four accommodation sites across the coast, the organisation offers them a head start fostering a brighter future for the younger generation within the community.

Nice. People who can afford to be generous and actually are. I guess it’s a tax write-off PR exercise, but whatever. It’s making a difference.

‘Hey, Stewie!’ Eddie calls out.

I glance up and see another teen headed over. Huge guy. I’m guessing an awesome fullback.

‘Yeah, hey.’

‘What’s the latest?’

Stewie reaches his friends and throws his ample self onto the table to sit and stare out over the ocean. ‘Nothin’.’

‘You know what’s happening with Jacob?’

‘Nup.’

‘How’s your little bro?’

‘Pretty shook up.’ Stewie puts his head in his hands and shakes it. ‘Said some pretty crazy shit. Fucking weird.’

‘Jacob did? To Aaron?’

He nods.

‘They’d been drinking, man.’

‘He’d pissed himself! He was rockin’! In shock! He’s still not fuckin’ right.’

‘If he saw his brother hanging—’

‘That’s not what he said he saw.’

‘What’s your dad saying?’

‘Nothin’. They’re still in there.’ Stewie pushes off the table and stalks away.

His friends look at each other in silence.

CHAPTER THREE

Finn Carson scanned the Noraville sports ground. It was packed with kids of all ages running and screaming and kicking balls on small makeshift fields. Set up by the carpark was a jumping castle, rock-climbing equipment, some toddler rides and an assortment of food vans, but there was no sign of the man he was looking for. ‘Where are you?’

‘Behind you.’

He spun and, spotting Linc, ended the call. ‘Sorry, I went to the wrong ground.’

‘At least they’re not far apart and, hey, better than the other option. I was sure you’d wussed out.’ Jack Lincoln, or ‘Linc’ as he was known to just about everyone, lifted his sunnies from his eyes and scanned the far end of the football oval with a slight frown. ‘They’ve started, hurry up.’

Finn followed Linc at an almost jog, noticing they were headed towards a field where lines of solidly built young men in green and gold were kicking their legs high, twisting, turning, squatting and jumping as they warmed up. ‘Ah, if that’s us, I’m out. I told you. I’ve never played rugby in my life. I’m not facing down those guys.’

‘It’s touch footy and we’re playing a friendly community-bonding session game—local cops versus the under tens. It’s the field behind. The most first aid you’ll require is a band aid or two, I promise. The guys you’re looking at are the local rep side doing a demo game.’ He flashed Finn a wide grin. ‘Keep walking, chicken shit.’

‘Linc!’

‘Hey, Will,’ Linc said to a guy who must have been a young coach. A bolt of energy half the height of Linc zipped past with a ball tucked under one arm and some impressive footwork, securing a nice try. A loud cheer erupted.

‘You’re running late,’ Will remarked distractedly, his focus on the game. ‘Nice job, Logan!’ Logan shot him a grin and a thumbs up. Will glanced back at Linc. ‘Merv’s over there,’ he said, gesturing towards the change rooms. ‘He wants to see you. Something’s going on.’

‘Thanks,’ Linc replied, and with a ‘Let’s go’ at Finn, headed over.

‘No worries, mate, I’ll be over shortly!’ Finn heard as a man with his back to them ended a phone call. He followed Linc to the owner of the croaky voice: a solidly built old man in a well-worn football jersey. Startling white hair poked out from under an Akubra that shaded a decent amount of his coal dark, weathered face.

‘Uncle!’ Linc called out. ‘This is Finn, the one I was telling you about. Finn, Uncle Merv.’

Finn shook Merv’s hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘And you.’ Then he said quietly to Linc, ‘You mind doing me a favour?’

‘What’s up?’ Linc asked.

‘There’s been an incident. We’ve got a dead player.’

‘Dead?’ Linc asked.

‘Dunno much yet. Got a call a few minutes ago saying young Bobby Walker died sometime last night.’

‘Where’s Harry?’ Linc asked.

‘Down at Jenny Dixon Reserve with the rest of ’em, watching the cops work.’ He looked at Linc. ‘Wouldn’t mind knowing a bit more.’

‘A bit more of what?’

Merv took a long, slow look around before answering. ‘There’s been some trouble recently. Some in-fighting. It’s affected the team in a big way. Some solid answers would be good before the rumour mill goes into overdrive. Before any accusations start flying.’

Linc took that in and looked at Finn. ‘We’ll head over there. See what we can find out.’

‘Thanks. Make sure Harry doesn’t go getting into it with Eddie and his mates.’

‘Harry’s your nephew, right?’ Finn asked Linc as they got in the car.

‘Yeah. Plays for the same club as Bobby.’

‘No offence, but I hope Merv’s off track. A homicide in an under-nineteens footy team?’

‘I’m pretty sure Merv’ll be hoping he’s off track too.’

It was a short drive to the reserve and Linc pulled up as close as he could. They wandered past a full police setup with a couple of forensics vans and walked a long section of reserve guarded by police tape towards some uniformed cops.

‘Tell me we haven’t been called in on this.’

Finn looked around and spotted Lexi sitting at a picnic table, long legs crossed, arms folded. Snug jeans, loose knit white top, boots and those blue eyes of hers pinned on them with curiosity—her sunglasses were busy holding back all that long black hair she hardly ever wore out.

‘Not that I know of. Is it a murder?’

She shrugged. ‘Wasn’t under that impression, but I’m just playing taxi.’ She looked him up and down, probably curious at the sports shorts and tee. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I dragged him out for a game,’ Linc said.

‘You were going to play rugby?’

‘Until we found out about this.’ Finn wasn’t sure he appreciated the surprise on her face.

‘Touch footy. Against ten-year-olds,’ Linc amended happily.

‘Ah,’ she said, as though that made so much more sense.

Linc leant on the table beside her and surveyed the scene. ‘Then Merv sent us over to see if there was any news.’

She adjusted her sunglasses, dragged her hair back off her face and shook her head. ‘Nothing yet.’

‘Linc! Hi.’ A beanpole of a teen with a wiry frame charged over.

‘Hey, Harry. You okay?’

‘Yeah, but Bobby’s dead.’ Harry looked from Linc to Lexi and back as though expecting an introduction, so Linc gave him one. ‘These are colleagues of mine, Finn and Lexi. This is my nephew Harry.’

‘Hi, Finn.’ Then to Lexi with just a touch of shyness, he said, ‘Hi. I’ve seen you around a bit.’

‘Running Cait back and forth,’ she said. ‘You’re the fast one, right?’

Harry performed a one-shoulder shrug, embarrassed. ‘Yeah, I’m not built like some of them, but I can get a ball across the line.’

‘I know.’

Finn chewed on a grin. Harry liked hearing that.

‘Was Bobby at the party last night?’ Linc asked.

Harry’s eyes locked on Linc’s before he nodded slowly. ‘Bobby was doing what Bobby does. Was out here with …’ he hesitated, ‘… a girl who got the shits ’cause he was being drunk and pushy so she took off and left him behind. He never came back but, man, didn’t seem like he was preparing to do anything like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘There’s talk he hung himself.’

‘Who found him?’ Linc asked.

‘Stewie’s dad. But his little brother—’ Whatever he was going to say petered out as a procession of forensic officers brought a body bag out of the thick scrub behind the reserve. Trailing them was a uniformed officer: mid-forties, buzz cut, receding hairline, short tidy beard and a sick expression. ‘That’s Jeff. Stewie’s dad,’ Harry said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Linc said. ‘I might see if he’s up for a quick chat.’ He caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff shook his head but approached.

‘Glad I don’t get too many of those.’

‘Suicide?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m going to go back to my friends,’ Harry said, disappearing into a circle of young men not far from the steps.

Finn, Linc and Jeff stood quietly for a moment as the body was loaded into the van.

‘So he hanged himself?’ Linc asked as the doors slapped shut.

‘Yeah. Looks like time of death was around midnight.’

‘Did he leave a note?’

‘No. But it was probably over that stupid video. The fallout has been affecting him badly.’

‘Video?’ Finn asked.

Jeff glanced around as though realising he’d been talking out of turn.

‘Jeff, this is Sergeant Finn Carson and Constable Lexi Winter. Friends of mine.’

Jeff relaxed a little. ‘A few months back, a young woman got smashed off her face at one of these Friday night get-togethers and took off with Bobby into that same bit of bush we just recovered his body from. A clip emerged of her on social media a couple of hours after the event in the throes of—What they were getting up to. It appears she handled it by taking a cocktail of drugs and jumping off the cliff behind us. We were able to establish it was Bobby that posted the footage online.’

‘Oh, hell,’ Linc growled. ‘What is wrong with these kids!’

‘Look, we only have Bobby’s account of what happened, but his story was that after the event he’d said thanks and see ya and she’d been angry, had thought it had meant more. In his words she’d “gone psycho” and decided she was going to go to the cops and cry rape, so he panicked and ran home and posted the video to prove it wasn’t. He admitted it wasn’t smart but they’d been off their faces and his judgement was badly impaired at the time. In court his lawyer argued that Bobby had acted in self-defence, so his actions didn’t strictly fit the cyber-bullying mould. Bobby was regretful, and the young woman involved had a history of mental illness. There was no proof her death was a direct result of his actions or the video—or even that she’d viewed it—so he ended up with a fine, a few hours’ community service and a stern word from the magistrate.’

‘If that incident is the reason for what he’s just done, I guess he was remorseful.’

‘He’d been struggling, as much from his peers giving him hell over it as anything else. But this is tragic. One mistake and two lives gone.’

‘But aren’t we missing something here?’ Lexi asked. ‘Why was he videoing it in the first place? Does he have a library of other events somewhere someone else might stumble upon?’

‘Now that might be worth following up,’ Jeff said. Then, ‘Ah, shit. It’s Jim Walker—Bobby’s father. I told him to wait at home,’ he said sadly. ‘Excuse me.’

A car door slammed, was followed by a distraught ‘Where’s my son?’

Jim Walker was a brick of a man with beady red eyes in a weathered face. He wore faded jeans and a flannelette shirt, one sleeve rolled, the other hanging at his wrist. His hair stuck out at angles and he staggered slightly as he charged from the car towards them.

‘We’re just taking him now, Jim,’ Jeff said calmly.

‘Have you questioned them yet?’

‘Look, Jim, I understand this is a difficult time, but—’

Jim’s face screwed up in bitter grief. ‘Them natives have done this!’

‘Excuse me?’ Linc cut in. ‘Natives?’

Jim looked Linc up and down with contempt. ‘You heard me. We let you lot into the club, now my son’s dead and it’s your fault!’

‘Your son killed himself, Jim,’ Jeff said calmly.

‘Because of them! Been giving him shit since it happened! Playing stupid games. Fucking with him till he couldn’t take it!’ He scowled at Harry and his friends. ‘Come ta gloat, just like I told ya they would! If you won’t do nothing about this, I will!’

‘Is that a threat, Mr Walker?’ Linc demanded quietly.

‘Damn straight!’ Aggression leaked from the man’s every pore.

‘Jim, I just heard!’ a woman said, appearing in the fray. Neatly attired, well spoken, mid-sixties, she stepped in, put a hand on the man’s shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry. Let me drive you home. You need some time to process, be with your wife. Come with me.’

Jim gave a flicker of hesitation, took the slightest step back.

‘That’s the best thing you can do right now,’ Jeff said. ‘Take some time to grieve with your wife. I’ll be in touch shortly to let you know when you can see your son.’

Under the woman’s guidance, Jim began to back away.

From somewhere in the large audience came a muttered, ‘Racist prick.’

‘Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll go,’ Jim shouted, turning purple with renewed rage. ‘But I meant what I said! You listening, skid mark?’ He pointed at Harry. ‘You and your mates are gonna pay!’

Linc launched forward. Finn stopped him in his tracks as—shit—Lexi put herself in front of Jim.

‘Okay!’ she told Jim. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, I really am. But you need to shut the fuck up and get your bigoted, twat-arse self home. Now.’

Jim seemed to grow several feet as his whole body radiated fury. ‘How dare you!’ he raged. ‘My son is dead!’

Lexi stood her ground. ‘That doesn’t make you any less of a twat. Go. Home.’

‘You think I’m going to let a girl tell me what to do?’

‘Unless you want to be physically restrained and removed from the scene by a girl, then yeah. You will.’

They stood eye to eye for several tense seconds while the public and a scattering of media watched with interest. Finn sweated on whether to risk letting go of Linc in case Jim called Lexi’s bluff. Deciding to trust Linc’s better judgement, he put himself between Jim and Lexi. ‘Mr Walker, you need to let Jeff do his job.’ He locked eyes with Jim. ‘Let’s not make things worse today.’

‘Jim, please,’ the woman said.

‘This is not over,’ Jim muttered before storming off.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Jeff said with a sigh. ‘He’s always a hothead, but under the circumstances …’

‘Is he ever violent?’ Finn asked. ‘Because under the circumstances I think he could be mad enough to do something stupid.’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘You didn’t have to take us home,’ Cait says as I drive back out onto the main road with the girls in the back seat.

‘Sergeant Baker wanted everyone cleared out. He doesn’t need dozens of teens crashing around his crime scene. Besides,’ I say, looking at the sky, ‘it’s about to bucket down. You want to be stuck out there in the rain?’

‘No. But what crime scene? Bobby killed himself. I can’t believe it. Who goes to a party and then hangs themselves?’

‘The rejection was just too much?’ Lizzy says with a weak attempt at humour.

‘Don’t say that!’

‘Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. I dunno why. He was pretty drunk. Maybe it was an accident. One of his stunts gone wrong?’

‘How do you accidentally put your head in a noose and step off a tree stump? And it doesn’t sound like any of his stupid friends were around.’

‘None of them would admit it if something like that went wrong.’

‘I guess.’

‘Jeff said he hadn’t been himself for a while,’ I say.

‘Don’t know, I hardly knew him,’ Cait says.

‘You got to know him a bit better last night.’

I glance in the rear-view mirror in time to see Lizzy’s eyes slide to Cait’s. Cait’s lips press together in a thin line.

‘What?’ I ask.

Cait sighs. ‘He cracked onto me. I told him to piss off. Unlike you,’ she shot at Lizzy.

‘Yeah, well, we all make mistakes.’ Lizzy leans forward in her seat to talk to me. ‘He could be a serious dick, but he was cute. And a good footy player. I learnt my lesson though.’

‘And did he piss off?’ I ask, still stuck on Cait’s revelation.

‘He didn’t want to,’ Lizzy says. ‘But then Jacob and Aaron decided to sneak up on them and take photos or something, so Bobby took off after them and Cait left them to it.’

‘Wait,’ I say, remembering the earlier conversation between Eddie and Stewie. ‘Jacob and Aaron?’

‘Jacob’s Bobby’s little shithead of a brother and Aaron’s his best mate. It was Aaron’s dad—Constable Baker—who found Bobby.’

‘Stewie’s brother.’

‘How’d you know that?’

‘I overheard the guys talking. Jacob saw something that left him in shock and Aaron’s pretty shaken up too, apparently.’

‘I don’t know anything about that! Man, how do you know more than me!’ Lizzy’s fingers start flying over her phone.

‘So these boys could have been the last ones to see him alive.’

‘What difference does it make?’ Cait asks.

‘Probably none. They might have known if anyone else was hanging around, that’s all. Bobby’s dad’s so sure he was goaded into it. I wonder if anything happened just beforehand.’

‘It wouldn’t have been anything to do with Harry or his mates, they’re too nice,’ Cait says.

Lizzy snorts. ‘How good was that mouthful you gave Jim! He’s such a dick.’

‘Hmm. I don’t feel good about slamming a grieving father but I needed to divert his anger from Harry before Linc lost it.’

‘Can you actually get away with that, though?’ Cait asks. ‘I thought police officers had to be polite.’

‘We’re supposed to be respectful, yes. Can we call them bad names? It’s frowned upon.’

‘I had a cop call me an idiot once,’ Lizzy pipes up, then giggles. ‘But never a twat-arse. What the heck is a twat-arse, anyway?’

The girls dissolve into laughter and I’m relieved. Cait’s been taking this suicide thing harder than I would have liked for someone she hardly knew.

‘I made it up because what I wanted to call him would have been even more frowned upon. And whatever he is, he just lost his son in one of the worst ways possible. I didn’t want it to get out of control.’

‘It might have if that Finn guy hadn’t stopped Linc in his tracks. And how hot is Finn, by the way?’ Lizzy elbows Cait. ‘Like wow!’

‘Yeah,’ Cait says, her tone back to contemplative.

‘How old is he?’ Lizzy asks me.

‘Too old for you.’

‘But not for you,’ Lizzy says suggestively. ‘I saw him checking you out.’

‘She doesn’t date,’ Cait says in a way that suggests one of her eye rolls. I don’t look in the rear-view mirror to check—I’m resisting an eye roll of my own. According to every teenage girl ever, if a guy looks at you for two seconds, he’s checking you out; it’s never innocent.

‘Like … ever? What about the bikie guy that comes over sometimes when I’m there?’

‘Zander’s just an old friend,’ I tell her.

‘Are you sure you two are on the same page about that? Because—’

Someone’s phone pings and there’s a momentary silence. Then, ‘Here we go. I knew that would be on,’ Lizzy says.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Group chat’s made their minds up. Bobby definitely hung himself out of guilt.’

‘Tell me more about this thing that happened,’ I say.

‘It was back in April,’ Lizzy says, head still in her phone. ‘Just before Cait started hanging with us. One of our Friday night get-togethers but a lot wilder and with a lot more people around. It was the first game weekend of the season. The guys were cooking sausages on one of the barbecues up on the reserve and everyone was drifting up and down from the beach. There was a bonfire and loud music and we were kind of spread out all over the place. It’s a wonder no one called the cops, I guess. But there were no fights or anything. Everything seemed fine. Most people ended up taking off home or passing out on the beach. Then later that morning, this video got shared around of this chick, Sophie, bouncing around on Bobby. She was drunk and into it and it was anything but flattering.’

‘She let him film it?’

‘I don’t reckon she knew what was going on. She was so … I don’t know, drunk or on something. It was disgusting the way everyone shared it. Anyway, next day she was dead. We’re guessing she must have seen the video and—’

‘And you never mentioned any of this?’ I snap at Cait.

‘It was before I met any of them! And you wouldn’t have wanted me to go to any of the parties. And that’s the only bad thing that’s ever happened.’

‘I beg to differ, after last night’s events.’

‘Bobby did what he did to himself. It wasn’t like I was in danger.’

‘Why would you even want to hang around guys like that?’

‘Most of them are really nice! You met Harry. Are you saying he’s not a nice guy?’

‘No,’ I admit.

‘Lucky, ’cause she wants to ask him out,’ Lizzy says with a giggle.

I hear a thump. ‘I’m just saying, you’re only sixteen. That footy team are eighteen-, nineteen-year-old men. Can’t you find friends your own age?’

‘There are other teams! Heaps of them are younger than that. Kids from school go, too. It’s been great. Always. This is just a one-off shit thing that happened. Besides, I’m not exactly your average sixteen-year-old. I can handle myself.’

‘Doesn’t mean you should have to. I’m supposed to be helping you get away from all that.’

‘The sad fact is, every Friday night, Bobby got as drunk as he could and cracked onto whoever looked the least bit interested,’ Lizzy says. ‘What happened sucks, but it won’t be happening anymore.’

I pull up in the driveway of Lizzy’s share house and she gets out. ‘If I hear anything else I’ll let you know.’

‘It’ll be on the group chat.’

‘True. See ya! Thanks, Lexi!’

Cait is quiet as I drive away. Too quiet. I can tell she’s been putting on a front for Lizzy and I know I have to fix whatever this is, but I’m not sure exactly what needs to be fixed.

I decide I may as well go for the direct approach. ‘Okay. Spill. What?’

‘To do what Bobby did you’d have to be pretty low. He must have been putting on one hell of a brave face last night. All that drunken shit he was carrying on with. It had to be bravado, right? I just—I can’t help but wonder if I’d been nicer to him if he’d …’

Ah, got it. I look her in the eyes in the mirror. ‘You’re right. From now on you’d better let every over-sexed low-life with a hidden camera fuck you in case they’re considering hanging themselves.’

‘Ew! Lexi!’ she gasps. ‘That’s so gross!’

‘You don’t want gross, don’t be stupid!’

‘I just meant—’

‘He didn’t hang himself because you said no. You’re not responsible for the actions he took that put him in that situation over that poor girl, and you’re not responsible for making him feel better about it. And you never, ever let any fuckwit’s emotional state manipulate you into being their physical doormat. Got it?’

‘I just meant maybe I could have let him down more gently.’

‘Do you really believe he’d have paid attention to “more gently”?’

I watch her think about that. Her mouth opens and closes twice before she answers.

‘No.’

‘How do you know?’ I press.

Her mouth twists. ‘Because I did actually try to be nice about it.’

‘And why do you think he didn’t listen?’

‘Because he was a fuckwit.’

‘And do we sleep with fuckwits?’

A hint of a smile. ‘No.’

‘You and I need to have some more serious talks. You’re softer than I thought.’

‘I’m not soft!’

‘From where I’m sitting you seem pretty soft right—’

‘Says you!’

‘Wait—we’re making this about me now?’

‘Well, we’re talking about soft, aren’t we?’

I’m genuinely shocked. ‘In what reality would anyone ever call me that?’

‘You didn’t want a housemate but you let me stay …’

‘Ha! Because I hate housework. I wanted a slave.’

‘Well, now you’ve got your slave, how about a boyfriend? The whole living like a nun thing is just weird. I mean, look at you! And Lizzy’s right. Between Zander and Finn—’

‘Finn’s with Olivia!’

‘Yeah, fuck that cow, I wish she’d hang herself.’

‘Cait!’

‘What? Not soft enough for you?’

‘You’ve only met her once!’

‘You left me in a room with her for five full minutes at headquarters while you collected your stuff. That was two minutes of pretend niceness and smug superiority and three more of being side-eyed like I was about to vandalise something.’

‘What changed?’

‘Finn was there for the first two.’ She must spot the slight shift in my expression because she adds, ‘She doesn’t like you either, you know. That polite mask she wore for you left at speed the second you weren’t looking.’

I’m more than aware of Olivia’s feelings. When I’d first arrived at headquarters another detective, Lisa Cassidy, had held a similar attitude towards me, but that had stemmed from a shared past she’d been desperate to keep buried. Since resolving that issue, we’ve gotten on just fine. Olivia’s different. For some unfathomable reason, her happiness with Finn seems to hinge on Finn and I not being friends and she’s been quietly attempting to drive a wedge between us ever since she decided to be a part of his life. During our last major case together that had manifested as attacks on my professionalism and insinuations about my mental health. At the time I could have happily proved her right and strangled the bitch. Since then, on the few brief occasions we’ve been in each other’s presence, I’ve managed, for Finn’s sake, to be nice, but I’m yet to be convinced her opinion has changed.

Cait’s phone pings, then she says, ‘Hey, you were right.’

‘Right?’

‘Apparently Jacob and Aaron got separated looking for Jacob’s phone last night after they ran off from Bobby. Aaron found Jacob in a heap on the path, all scratched up and rocking and crying and muttering a whole load of stuff that didn’t make sense, and called his dad to come get them. Jacob’s at the hospital in shock. No one seems to know anything else though.’ She sighs. ‘Poor kid must have seen Bobby hanging there.’

That’s not what he said he saw, Stewie had said. I let it go. I’m curious and I wonder why Jeff hadn’t mentioned Jacob, but I don’t need to add any more fuel to the teenage gossip fire.

We continue home in silence, which is fine. The rain is coming down in sheets and I need to concentrate. I’m not a huge fan of the rain but the forecast is for a couple of wet weeks so I guess I may as well get used to it.

We’re within metres of the apartment carpark when we get stuck in some sort of traffic jam.

‘We could park the car here and walk?’ Cait suggests.

‘In this? No thanks.’ My eye’s drawn across the road to Gosford Memorial Park. Through the long stretch of trees and mist-tinged rain, I spot a large male figure in a raincoat leaning casually against the sandstone cenotaph. A hood covers most of his face save for a square, stubbled jaw. A cigarette glows orange as its owner draws in smoke. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, telling me I’m being watched.

‘Oh, no! Looks like someone’s hit a dog,’ Cait says sadly, returning my attention to the road.

Two men are carrying the limp body of something brown and furry out of the way of the traffic. Cars begin crawling forward. I follow, then swing off the road and into my parking spot.

As soon as I’m out of the car, I look back across the road. The man in the raincoat has gone. I shrug the moment off and put my weird reaction down to the events of the day. I head inside with Cait, who’s busily typing away on her phone.

‘I think we’re going to have some sort of vigil for Bobby,’ she mutters when she notices my look.

‘We’re not done talking about this Friday night thing. I know you can take care of yourself and I’m not trying to play heavy-handed parent but …’

‘But I can and you are?’ she replies with a cheeky grin.

As we step out of the lift, her gaze moves past mine. ‘Hey, got an admirer?’

‘Huh?’ I spot a gift-wrapped box sitting outside the apartment. ‘That’s never for me.’

We reach the door and Cait swoops on the card. ‘“I’ve missed you. V.”’ Her brow shoots up and she hands me the card.

V. My heart rockets into a fast, uneven rhythm. I shove Cait behind me and drive her back.

‘Lexi, what—’

The man outside—was that Vaughn? Had part of me subconsciously recognised him? What the hell was in that box?

I move us a safe distance away and grab my phone.

‘Rachael. He’s back.’

CHAPTER FIVE

Monday, October 9

Finn took a seat in what was now the hub of Task Force Teras: the top floor of Gosford Police Station. The core homicide team—Rachael, himself, Linc and the recently returned Lisa Cassidy, or Cass, as she was known to her friends—had been joined, as promised, by Lexi and a full contingent of highly trained detectives and analysts from across the state crime command elite squads. He recognised many faces, including Jim ‘Neutron’ Hudson from Cyber and Olivia, his girlfriend, who had joined in her capacity as a criminal psychologist. Olivia was busy talking to Rachael so he didn’t interrupt. She’d worn her sleek blonde hair in a short braid today. He preferred it out, but she admitted the braid, along with the caramel-coloured suit she was wearing, gave her an extra confidence kick when she felt she needed it. Today, the first day in the task force, was one of those days. He nodded to a couple of guys from the sex crimes unit, but as Rachael started the meeting, his attention was drawn back to the front of the room.

‘Welcome to Gosford, everyone. There’s a reason I’ve brought the task force here and we’ll get to that, but suffice to say, this is where it all started with Vaughn, and this is where it will end. As you would have noted coming in, most of this floor is dedicated to a communal taskforce area. The south side of the floor is divided into freestanding modular offices. Mine is closest to the lift, so if I’m not here, I’ll be there. The others contain desks and tables and are available for interviews or anyone requiring a quieter space from time to time. You’ll find a makeshift coffee room at the far end. Bathrooms are located downstairs. Accommodation options for those travelling longer distances have been outlined in the email you should have all received and I believe everyone has been taken through the emergency procedures so we’ll get straight into it.

‘Damon Vaughn,’ she said, slapping a pen against the screen. All eyes turned to the mugshot. A not unattractive man in his late twenties stared arrogantly back at the camera. Well groomed, short brown hair, a fine layer of stubble over a set jaw, and hazel eyes that held a glint of something unpredictable and complex. There was a cold, calculating quality to that look, chilling enough to unsettle even the most seasoned cops.

‘This is our man. However, this mugshot is not recent. Vaughn is now fifty years old and when we caught up with him three years ago, he was sporting very dark hair, a beard and moustache, and was almost unrecognisable from this photo.’ She brought up CCTV footage of Vaughn at a table in a pub. It wasn’t clear but illustrated her point. ‘On a second encounter, the beard and moustache had been removed, but the dark hair remained. A few years on, it’s likely he’s altered his appearance again. We have a forensic artist working on an age-progressed image but for now, this is it.

‘I cannot stress to you enough how dangerous this individual is. We know what he’s done to children for profit. But since the Spider case, more information has come to light about Vaughn’s past, which you already have, but we’re going to run through again because you need to be prepared. You need to know from the outset that any small mistake you make with this man could be fatal for yourself or someone else.

‘Allow me to elaborate. During the Spider case, I gave a journalist a story to run on Vaughn, with very specific instructions on how to set it out.’ Another picture, this one of a smiling young journalist. ‘He chose to ignore those instructions and run something different. Vaughn retaliated by capturing and restraining him, and stabbing him more than fifty times.’

Another photo, the young man after his murder, had the room squirming in their seats.

‘This is not unusual behaviour from Vaughn. We’ve since learnt from carrying out interviews with captured members of the Hamill crime syndicate, Vaughn’s old employers, that he is responsible for at least eight other brutal murders carried out in the name of collecting drug debts and eliminating competition.’ She flicked some further horrific images onto the screen. ‘He appears to enjoy his work.’

‘This guy’s a nutter. Insane, surely?’ one detective called out.

‘No. He’s not. These acts and others he’s committed are undertaken with conscious volition. He fully appreciates that what he’s doing is wrong and he revels in it. He has a very distorted world view, but he’s not insane.’

‘So what is he, then?’

‘Let me introduce you to Detective Olivia Brighton, our criminal psychologist. Olivia?’

Olivia stood next to Rachael. ‘Good morning, everyone. Vaughn exhibits all the classic red flags associated with antisocial personality disorder and malignant narcissism. What does that mean? Malignant narcissists are arrogant and conceited. They have an inflated sense of self-importance, entitlement and superiority. They crave attention, admiration and recognition, and have a preoccupation with power and success along with a tendency to believe others envy them. They’re easily humiliated when they feel slighted and will react badly when others don’t show them the admiration they believe they deserve.

‘Keep that in mind and consider how toxic and dangerous those traits can be when combined with symptoms of extreme antisocial personality disorder, which commonly involves impulsive, manipulative tendencies, an inability to control anger and little to no capacity for empathy or remorse.’

‘How does a person become that way?’ Cass asked.

‘We’ll get into that later,’ Rachael said. ‘What’s most important right now is not losing his trail. We know he’s close and he’s likely to stay close. He has previously claimed his next move would be about settling a score with Constable Winter and the package left at her doorstep reinforces this. I believe revenge is why he’s re-emerged, and that is why we are basing ourselves here.’

‘Couldn’t we have worked out of HQ and put Winter in a safe house?’

‘For how long? I fully believe we would have spent most of our time travelling down and back to this location. Vaughn knows this area. He grew up here, he worked and dealt for the Hamills on the streets here. This is his old stomping ground. He’s comfortable here. This is where he’ll be. I guarantee it.’

‘I’m sorry, inspector, I’m having trouble believing someone who’s made as much money as he has and could be anywhere in the world would risk everything coming back here because Winter stopped him killing one kid,’ a detective from the sex crimes squad called out.

‘May I?’ Olivia asked Rachael. When Rachael nodded, Olivia continued. ‘During the Spider case, Lexi managed to inflict injuries on Vaughn and assist the child he had abducted to escape. Lexi outsmarted him, outfought him. His failure was all over the news, in the papers, in social media. Remember what I told you about malignant narcissism? Arrogance, conceit, superiority. Vaughn’s partner, Debbie Reynolds, told Lexi the idea she had beaten him was, in her words, “eating him up”. He couldn’t handle it. Prior to this, Vaughn had the media in a storm, the public terrified. He was all over the news and completely in his element. In Vaughn’s mind, what happened is an intolerable public humiliation. When he thinks about it, and I guarantee it haunts him, he envisages the world laughing at him. Simply by living, Constable Winter is rubbing salt in the wound. She’s a constant reminder of his failure. To satisfy his own delusions of grandeur, he has to regain the admiration he believes he lost. He has to beat her.’

Finn watched Lexi shift in her seat. Saw the discomfort in her tired expression, but also the resolve. Most people in Vaughn’s sights, probably most sensible people, would already have been smuggled away to a safe house. Instead there she sat, and despite the exhaustion she must be feeling from a long night of sifting through the unimaginable filth on the thumb drive Vaughn had left for her, that hair of hers was wrangled into a perfect bun, her light make-up skilfully applied, her suit ironed and heels shining. If anyone could handle this, it’d be her, and he was pretty sure she was looking forward to getting it done. But he wasn’t. He had a gut feeling this was going to be the most difficult case any of them had ever faced. At least as far as keeping Lexi alive was concerned.

‘Do we have an MO on this guy?’ another officer asked.

‘Unfortunately, Vaughn isn’t your garden variety serial killer,’ Olivia said. ‘He’s opportunistic, and unlike many others, adaptable. From drug dealer to standover man to child predator, Vaughn sees people as nothing more than a means to his latest ends. He has no preference in victims and no, he doesn’t follow an MO, which will make him that much more difficult to predict. Adults, children, male, female, killing by whatever means necessary, they’re simply stepping stones to getting what he wants. Despite being highly intelligent and well spoken, despite his polite, charming facade and his ability to fake empathy when it suits his agenda, no level of violence and cruelty is beyond this man. He’s a well-organised, merciless monster. Don’t forget it.’

Murmurs echoed around the room.

‘Thanks, Olivia,’ Rachael said. ‘As you know, sometime yesterday a package was left on Constable Winter’s doorstep. The package was signed by Vaughn and fingerprint analysis has confirmed he handled the package himself. Inside were thumb drives. These contained the contents of his latest dark web site. It’s huge. There are thousands of child pornography videos, which we believe could be raking in hundreds of thousands of dollars if not more.

‘Why has he sent us this content? No idea. It was presented as a gift. I’m gathering he’ll be in touch again to clarify, but it could simply be posturing and letting us know he’s close by. Lexi believes she saw him watching her as she entered her home yesterday afternoon.

‘We’re talking to everyone in Constable Winter’s apartment building, going house to house in the area, checking buildings and street CCTV, ANPR—I want number plate recognition on every car anywhere near the apartment on Sunday. Rule out locals and see if anything stands out. Forensics on the package. Where did it come from? Flowers—where did they come from? How was everything paid for? I doubt he’d make a rookie mistake but we could get lucky on a lead. We’re interviewing everyone still alive who might know or have known him for any information we can squeeze out of them and we’re offering a million-dollar reward for information that leads to his capture. Our media liaison is working on a press statement as we speak. We’re getting his face out everywhere and setting up a hotline for anyone who thinks they might have spotted him. I don’t want him feeling like he has a free pass to wander around anonymously in the community. I want constant pressure on him. People under pressure make mistakes. I expect that with the reward that hotline will go berserk with possible sightings and we’re going to have to check out each and every one, so clear your schedules and be sensible with your downtime. We’re going to need every single one of you to be at the top of your game, using every tool at our disposal in order to catch him. Let’s get on with it.’

As people moved in all directions and the noise level increased from busy going on headache, Finn considered snagging one of those quiet offices Rachael had mentioned.

‘Hey, Lex,’ Cass said, appearing beside them with Linc. ‘Sounds like you had quite a day yesterday.’

‘Turned out to be, yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if a complaint rolls in.’

‘Over what you said to Walker?’ Linc asked. ‘Not as big a complaint as what would have come in if you two’d let me near him.’

‘It wasn’t that bad,’ Finn said. ‘And it was better than arresting a grieving father. Besides, I don’t think he knew she was a cop. It probably won’t go anywhere.’

‘What’s this about?’ Rachael said, stopping in front of them and folding her arms. ‘What won’t go anywhere?’

‘A guy in my nephew’s footy team committed suicide on Saturday night,’ Linc said. ‘There was a nasty moment when the father of the dead boy arrived, spouting off a whole heap of racist crap and accusing the Indigenous boys in the team of having something to do with it. At which point I have to admit my temper kinda disintegrated and Lexi intervened with a few choice words to the understandably upset—but also racist prick—father of the dead kid. Unfortunately, the public and media on site witnessed the whole thing.’

‘What did you say?’ Rachael asked Lexi.

‘I told him to shut the fuck up and get his bigoted, twat-arse self home,’ Lexi said with a shrug. ‘In my defence, I really needed to break up the imminent fist fight by transferring his attention to me. A polite “move along” wasn’t going to do it. And physically taking down and arresting a grieving father in front of the media wasn’t a great option either.’

‘Agreed,’ Rachael said after a moment. ‘I’ll handle any fallout if it arises.’

‘Did I miss something?’ Olivia asked.

Finn looked around to see her waiting and smiled. ‘Hi. Just an incident at the footy thing yesterday.’

‘I heard.’ Then to Lexi: ‘You were there?’

‘With Cait. She follows the local team.’

‘Right.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Finn asked.

‘No. No problem. Have you cleared swapping your Ava weekend with Viv so we can go to the wedding on Saturday yet?’

Ah, shit. He’d forgotten. Again. He shot her an apologetic grin. ‘I’m on it.’

He noted the flash of temper but she quickly masked it. ‘Right,’ she said again. ‘Maybe do that today? Rachael wants me to write something up for the media. I’ll be in one of the offices if you want to join me.’

‘Sure.’ He watched her walk away and felt a little guilty.

‘You don’t want to go,’ Linc said.

‘What? I don’t mind. I just keep forgetting to talk to Viv.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Linc said. ‘Your face totally gave it away.’

He groaned. ‘They’re dance nuts! The bride and groom are doing some special routine together and everyone has to join in.’

‘So what?’ Cass asked.

‘Back in his school days, Finn was always one of those boys who’d rather cut off his own leg than dance,’ Rachael said with a grin.

He pulled a face. ‘I still don’t like the idea, but I can’t see myself getting out of it. I’ll probably give it a go and fall over my own feet or something.’

‘Like you did at your wedding?’ Rachael taunted. ‘You should get Lexi to give you a lesson.’

He caught the startled objection on Lexi’s face. ‘Why me?’

‘Last case,’ Linc said with a cheeky grin. ‘We saw you dancing at the clubhouse.’

‘Fuck, really?’ Lexi muttered. ‘Finn’d look a little strange dancing like that. I’m sure you can help.’

‘Sure, but he’ll have to let me lead.’

‘Right, enough teasing,’ Rachael said. ‘We’ve got work to do. Lexi, I know you’ve spent most of the night on the contents of that drive. Any luck finding anything that’ll tell us where to find it online?’

She yawned. ‘Not yet. There doesn’t seem to be any reason to send it to me other than to rub my nose in it. It’s like the sick bastard’s just playing with me.’

‘Okay. Why don’t you try and get a couple of hours’ sleep while we get everything up and running?’

‘I don’t—wouldn’t be able to. Too many disturbing images behind my eyelids.’

‘Then at least take a break. Get a coffee, some breakfast. I need you at your best. Finn, go with her. I don’t want her heading out on her own.’

‘Sure, we’ll hit the café,’ he said.

As they walked out, he said, ‘You sure you don’t want to catch some sleep? There’s probably not going to be a lot of opportunity later on.’

‘Nope. I’m pumped!’ Lexi said, even as she actively hid another yawn. ‘It’s the waiting that’s been killing me. I’m ready. Bring it on.’

That was exactly the answer he’d been worried about.

CHAPTER SIX

Cait slid her books into her backpack and followed Lizzy out of the classroom. ‘Ugh, that was the most painful double period of biology I think we’ve ever had.’

‘It’s gotta be up there.’

‘Do you think there’s any chance of passing this exam? Mr Turner is evil.’

‘I heard that, Cait!’ Mr Turner called cheerfully from his desk.

‘Sorry, Mr Turner!’ she shot back with a sheepish grin.

Lizzy elbowed her and giggled as they stepped out of class. ‘I’ll come over a couple of nights this week. We’ll study. It’ll be fine.’

‘I want to run a café, not save lives. Don’t know why I need to know the parts of a cell, anyway.’

‘You picked your subjects.’

‘Because it sounded easier than chemistry.’

‘It is. Hurry up. People are waiting.’

Cait took faster steps to keep up with Lizzy as they moved through the school gates and out into the carpark. There was a crowd hanging by Lizzy’s car, smoking, vaping or on their phones, empty bottles in hand. They threw their bags onto the back seat and Lizzy unlocked the boot. Inside were two trays of neatly stacked shampoo, conditioner and colour bottles with names and prices printed on them.

‘Help me, would you?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said, and spent the next few minutes taking empty bottles and cash and handing over full ones.

When they were done, she handed Lizzy a thick wad of notes. ‘That’s some serious cash.’

‘Easy money,’ she said, taking it with a ‘Thanks’.

‘So rather than tossing out the bottles, they wash them out, bring them back, you refill them and sell them back. You sure Janine doesn’t mind you doing this? You’re there as an apprentice, right? Not to undercut her sales.’

‘Long as I buy the bulk refills from her, nup. She’s all for recycling and saving the planet and stuff. This is good for the environment and,’ she pocketed the cash with a grin and shut the boot, ‘good for me. Come on, Janine will mind if I’m late.’

Lizzy’s share house is crawling with builders and the girls take a moment to appreciate a couple of the hotter ones as they step inside the almost completed four-bedroom home. ‘No one else is living here. Still just me. Though only for another three or four weeks, at the rate it’s coming together.’

‘You really don’t mind being here by yourself?’

‘Mrs Hill prefers to have someone on the place—deters vandals and so on—and I like my space. I don’t care how long the renos take. Give me five.’

While Lizzy changed for work, Cait wandered, staying out of the way of two tradies adding finishing touches to some blinds on the lounge-room windows. She peeked inside one of several boxes marked Sophie. A green teddy sat on top of one box and she lifted it out, stared into the button eyes. Sophie. The one who killed herself after that video got out. Sad.

‘Ready,’ Lizzy said.

‘What’s all this?’

‘Oh that’s … Sophie’s stuff. She was in one of the other share houses but no one really knew what to do with it after she killed herself, so it ended up here.’ Lizzy took the bear and put it carefully back in the box, closed the lid.

‘Sorry.’

Lizzy shrugged. ‘Not like she needs it now. But we need to—’

‘Ladies.’

Cait spun at the voice. It belonged to the silver-haired lady Lizzy had seen guiding Jim away from that scene he’d created at the reserve.

‘Oh, Mrs Hill. Hi, what are you doing here?’ Lizzy asked.

‘I thought I’d call in. Make sure everything was coming together on time.’

‘I think it’s going to be great. Ah … Mrs Hill, this is my friend, Cait.’

Mrs Hill smiled. ‘Hello, Cait. Nice to meet you,’ she said, assessing Cait with shrewd brown eyes that seemed colder than her voice.

Cait smiled back politely. She’d been curious to meet this woman, but she didn’t feel particularly comfortable under that stare. ‘Hello.’

‘Is Cait looking for a place to stay?’ Mrs Hill asked Lizzy.

‘She’s staying temporarily with a court-appointed guardian. But she might end up needing a place.’

‘I see. Well, if you do, Cait, Lizzy will show you how to apply. Lizzy, I asked you to remove these boxes. We have enough rubbish lying around. If there’s anything worthwhile keeping, give it to someone who needs it.’

‘Yeah, I’ll have to sort through it. Sorry. Work’s been keeping me busy.’

‘Off there now?’

‘Yes. Better get to it. That little sideline’s keeping me on my toes.’

‘That’s great initiative, Lizzy. Good to see.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Well,’ Mrs Hill said with a clap of her hands. ‘I’d better keep going.’

Cait saw Lizzy exhale as Mrs Hill walked out then paused to talk to a tradie in the driveway.

‘Is she scary or is it just me?’ she asked.

‘She’s okay, but she has to keep a bunch of teens in line so, you know, hard exterior, that’s all. Let’s go get your hair done.’

* * *

The salon was a trendy little shop tucked onto the main street in Toukley that catered to young and old alike but exuded a fresh, modern feel that drew a clientele looking for the more daring cuts and colours as well as the standard number wanting the mundane and ordinary. It wasn’t unusual to see an old lady getting her purple-rinse perm in one chair, a kid with a hot pink mullet in the next.

Cait took her seat in a comfortable padded chair as instructed by Lizzy and adjusted the gown as it was thrown over her.

‘Just a sec,’ Lizzy said.

The hum of hairdryers and the snipping of scissors mixed with general chatter helped Cait relax. She watched one of the hairdressers performing some sort of twisty work of art on a young woman’s hair.

‘Hello there!’

Cait glanced up to see Lizzy return with Janine, her boss. ‘Hi.’

‘So what are we doing today?’

‘Just purple.’

‘Really?’ Lizzy complained.

Cait was taken aback. ‘That’s what we said. What were you thinking?’

Lizzy grinned. ‘Want to add some green and pink? Take a look at this.’ She showed Cait a picture in an open magazine. ‘Mermaid hair!’

‘Looks kinda dicky.’

‘Dicky?’

‘Just the usual.’

‘Oh, come on!’

‘Do you two need more time to discuss?’ Janine asked, scanning the salon. Cait got the impression Janine never missed a beat. She always seemed to be on top of every detail. And she never stood still.

‘I guess we could add a … slightly different shade of purple.’

‘Like pink?’

‘I … guess. But that’s absolutely it.’

‘This time,’ Lizzy added with an even bigger grin.

Cait drank coffee and sat quietly as Janine coached Lizzy through the process. She hoped it wouldn’t look stupid at the end. Pink and purple. Could go either way. The hairdresser behind her in the mirror was still braiding and twisting hair.

‘Cait?’

‘Huh? Sorry. That hairstyle over there. Looks kinda cool.’

‘Oh, yeah. Jess is incredible. If I ever get married, she’s doing my hair. I was saying I have to do some sweeping up and stuff while the dye does its thing. Yell if you need me.’ Lizzy’s phone pinged and, from across the room, Janine cleared her throat.

‘What have I told you about having your phone on while you’re working?’ she asked.

‘Sorry, forgot to turn it off!’ Lizzy quickly checked it. ‘Got anything on after this?’ she asked Cait. ‘One of the girls from my old share house has got her hands on some pot. Feel like a smoke and just chilling?’

‘Can’t see why not. I—Sorry,’ she said as her own phone sounded. She read the message. ‘Looks like I can’t. For some reason I have to stay put here and wait to be picked up by …’ Her brow shot up in surprise. ‘A cop? Shit.’

‘Probably something to do with that present you found last night.’

‘Yeah. Crazy paedo stalker. Lexi warned me it might get a bit full-on. Sorry. It sucks.’

‘Don’t be. You’re lucky.’

‘Lizzy, get moving please!’

‘Yep!’

‘Being summoned home is lucky?’

‘Having someone who gives a shit about you? Yeah, I reckon. When I got kicked out of home I was lucky to find a spot in the share house, but no one was looking after me but me. I had to grow up real fast, learn how to manage money, pay bills, get myself around, still do school, find a job, all that shit. I know you did it tough, too. So you should know better than most how hard it can be without support. Now you’ve got someone who wants to help you do all that. If Lexi had my back, no way I’d be complaining.’

Cait watched Lizzy hurry off to find a broom. She was right. There was no reason Lexi should have taken her in like she did. She still didn’t get it, but she didn’t want to stuff it up. She didn’t really want to take drugs, either. Maybe getting a ride home this arvo with a cop wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘You think that’s him?’ Finn asks.

A chillingly familiar sense of anxiety washes over me as I stare, my eyes glued to the image on the screen. It doesn’t show much more than a grainy black blob against a bleak grey background of leaden sky and a stone cenotaph partially obscured by the twisted, waterlogged branches of an ancient fig tree. But it’s Vaughn. This monster that could be anywhere, doing anything, having whatever he wants, has chosen to be here, doing this, wanting me.

‘I know it’s him.’

‘Creepy bastard,’ Cass mutters.

‘Probably threw the dog in front of that car on purpose,’ Linc says.

‘That’s a stretch,’ Finn says.

‘This is Vaughn,’ Linc replies. ‘He would have wanted to make sure Lexi saw him. And that he got a good look at her.’

‘He’ll have been watching her long before he decided to let us know about it,’ Finn says. I sense his eyes on me. ‘Okay?’

I wish everyone would stop asking me that. ‘Yeah,’ I tell him, dragging my attention back to the room. It’s at least partly true. It’s late afternoon and the initial shock of Vaughn’s return has begun to wear off. The short, sharp adrenaline-filled burst of excitement has faded, and a sick sense of dread seems to be overtaking it. Probably just creeping in with the tired. ‘Just a long day catching up with me.’

‘Make sure you get that camera on your door replaced today,’ Finn tells me.

‘I can’t understand why it stopped working. I check it constantly. It’s always functioned perfectly up until now.’

‘Murphy’s law,’ Linc says with a wry smile.

I get a phone alert and I glance at it, then back up at Finn. ‘Rachael wants to see us before we go.’

I catch the slightest change in Finn’s expression as he nods and gestures for me to go ahead. ‘After you.’

Hmm. I get as far as the hallway, then stop in my tracks. ‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘What’s going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

I sigh. Glare. ‘I mean you did the whole oh shit why do I have to be there too? look.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yeah.’ When he tries to continue on, I step in front of him and give him an easy-to-read look of my own. ‘So?’

‘It’s fine.’

‘I’m on this case.’

‘You certainly appear to be.’

‘She’s not going to pull some “it’s too dangerous” shit after all, is she?’

‘Not as far as I know.’ He’s being evasive.

I study his expression in minute detail. ‘You know more than you’re saying.’

He laughs and turns me around. ‘Lexi. Go!’

I huff and send him another glare over my shoulder, but head for Rachael’s office. The door is open and she waves me in, ending a call as she gestures for us to take seats.

‘How are you holding up?’ she asks with a smile.

‘Bring it on. What’s up?’

‘Okay,’ she says in a way that I know means we’re about to go to war. ‘We’re going to be very careful how we juggle this.’

‘Juggle what?’

‘Your involvement. Yes!’ she says, raising a hand to stop me cutting in. ‘You’re in, I promised you that. But you are a target. If there was any doubt about that, he removed it with that gift he left you yesterday. We’re walking a fine line having you on board with this threat against you.’

‘Criminals make threats against you every day. It doesn’t stop you.’

‘And I’m not stopping you. But. I don’t suppose there’s any point in suggesting you move into a more secure—’

‘My apartment couldn’t be more secure. I’ve hardly been sitting around hoping he doesn’t turn up. I know we had that one issue yesterday but I’ll fix the damn camera.’

‘All right. But we are going to implement some precautions. Starting with extra protection.’

I flick a thumb at Finn. ‘This one has always done just fine.’

Rachael’s lips twitch. ‘Yes, but there will be times my detectives need to be elsewhere and you might want to go home, or to the shops, or run Cait around. Things I won’t be able to talk you out of doing.’

‘On that, I thought Cait might be better off staying somewhere else while we catch Vaughn, but she’s refusing to budge. If we try and force her, she’ll take off. I can’t let that happen.’

‘I have absolutely no doubt Vaughn knows about Cait. At this point, she’s better off under the same protection you’ll be under. That will be my recommendation if social services get involved. Which is a very big part of why,’ she says, motioning for someone behind me to come in, ‘I’d like to introduce you to Julian Dowd.’

Here we go. I turn, look the guy up and down. Tall, lean, young, pretty face. Definitely not intimidating. ‘Please tell me this guy’s not meant to be some sort of bodyguard.’

‘Protective service officer, federal police,’ he states confidently.

I’m far from impressed, even less convinced. ‘Are you sure?’

He seems to think that’s funny. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Ma’am? ‘Oh, hell, no. You can keep your ma’ams for the woman who’s probably still raising you.’

‘Lexi!’ Rachael snaps.

‘Look, no offence, Julian. I’m sure you’re a great guy, but I don’t like people very much, least of all when they won’t leave me alone. I’m fully capable of taking care of me and I don’t need someone following me around—especially someone I feel like I need to protect. Besides, I really don’t want anyone dying instead of me if Vaughn gets a chance to take a pot shot.’

His face breaks into an outright smirk. ‘I’ll do my best not to die. Ma’am.’

I point a finger in his direction. ‘Oh! And he’s a smartarse!’ I keep that finger pointed at him while turning to Rachael. ‘No!’

Rachael plants her hands on her desk. ‘Yes.’

‘What if—’

‘Non-negotiable.’

‘Even if I—’

‘No.’

‘But—’

‘Forget it.’

I hold Rachael’s determined stare, my mind scrambling for an escape plan, because the part about no one dying in my place is absolute. I have every intention of coming out of this alive, but if Vaughn gets one shot at me, no talented young cop with his whole life ahead of him will take that bullet. Even if I have to insult the hell out of him to make sure it doesn’t happen.

Rachael, the immovable force, is still staring me down so I change tactics. I shrug carelessly. ‘Fine. I assumed you’d probably insist on something like this so I have the perfect compromise. He can follow Cait around everywhere. Hell, they can go to school together. I’d appreciate it.’ I turn to Julian. ‘My sixteen-year-old charge is bound to fall in love with your cute little face and hopefully not made-up references. She’s one hell of a handful and more than enough for you to worry about. She’ll run you off your feet, trust me. Keep her alive and we’ll get on fine. In fact, she could do with a lift home from her hairdresser soon. I’d arranged for a uniformed officer to pick her up but I’ll give you the address and you can do it instead. That okay?’

‘Of course. And I’ll escort you to your apartment beforehand if you like?’

‘Escort me two minutes down a busy main road in broad daylight?’ I look at Rachael. Was this for real? Her expression suggests it is. I shake my head. ‘I’m not going anywhere just yet. May as well go twiddle your thumbs, Frank Farmer. I’ll let you know if I decide to head out and sing a song or something.’

‘I’m partial to “I Will Always Love You”, ma’am.’

A choked laugh escapes my throat. Damn it. Total smartarse.

‘We’ve leased an empty apartment on the first floor of your building. Julian will be staying there and other officers will be on site at all times.’

‘Great. Is that all?’

At Rachael’s nod, I walk out. I check behind me but Julian has stayed put, talking to Rachael.

‘I wonder if he responds to basic commands,’ I mutter to Finn.

‘Don’t be mean.’

‘He seems to think it’s funny.’

‘I’m sure he’s been warned—I mean briefed.’

‘Wish I had been. Traitor!’

* * *

‘Thanks for dropping me off.’ I stifle yet another tired yawn and stretch.

‘Big day,’ Finn remarks, pulling his car into my apartment building’s carpark. Automatically, his eyes scan the area for any sign of Vaughn, despite the police car trailing us and the one stationed at the building.

‘Yeah, not that we got far,’ I reply.

‘We’ve got CCTV, fingerprints, a website, a plan of attack, a full team on the job and a press release on the go. I think that’s pretty good for a day’s work. Especially considering you’ve barely slept in thirty-six hours.’

I check the time then glance out the window as uniformed officers gather around the car. ‘This is going to get very old, very quick.’ I open the door and step out.

Finn scans the area once more and thanks the officers before following me inside, taking the lift to my front door, where Julian steps out.

I manage a polite ‘Hello again’.’

‘Ma’am.’

Grrr. I smile tightly. ‘It’s Lexi.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

I picture taking my gun out and firing it at his head. Maybe I’m just tired. ‘Cait’s safely inside?’

He nods. ‘She is.’

‘Any problems with pick-up?’

‘None. And your camera has been replaced. The tech guy said something had come loose inside the old one.’

‘That’s weird.’ I push my door open then turn back. ‘You can go now.’

‘Thank you, ma—’

‘Do you enjoy solid food?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

I smile maliciously. ‘You can’t chew without teeth. It’s Lexi.’

‘I don’t feel comfortable—’

Finn clears his throat loudly.

‘Lexi. Of course,’ Dowd concedes. ‘I’ll be just downstairs. Please call if either of you need to leave your apartment.’

I step inside and look around. The place has been searched by the police. Rachael had wanted to ensure everything was secure. It’s a mess, but Cait seems to have made an effort to tidy up the worst of it.

‘Want a coffee?’ I ask Finn.

‘Sure.’

I kick off my shoes and go to the kitchen. The sound of running water suggests Cait is in the shower.

‘Even for you, you’re being hard on Dowd. You really don’t like him?’

‘Even for me?’ I ask, then more seriously: ‘I want him to like Cait and hate me.’

‘Why?’

‘So Cait lives and he doesn’t die.’

‘You’re trying to protect him by bullying him?’

‘You really think that little Power Ranger is any match for Vaughn?’ I stir some milk into his coffee and place it on the table with mine. He moves a few scattered books out of the way and reads the cover of one. ‘Talking with Psychopaths and Savages. Some light reading then?’

‘If you want to get inside Vaughn’s head, you should read it.’

‘Now I need to read a book to catch a killer?’

‘Maybe all of them. The author’s brilliant.’

‘Your faith in my abilities is humbling.’

‘It’s a great book. They all are.’ I gesture to the bookshelf, where several other titles by the same author sit, their spines worn from multiple reads.

‘Don’t we deal with that enough at work?’

‘All this research makes me feel like I’m doing something. I keep reading, hoping something will click, give me a clue.’

‘And?’

‘I used to wonder how he could live with himself but now I get it. It’s not just psychological; it’s physical. Something—probably in his orbitofrontal cortex—is faulty. He doesn’t feel guilt or empathy. His brain doesn’t allow him to. And while most people we call psychopaths go through life without doing what he’s doing, an inability to feel or understand empathy gives him a free pass on the rest of it, right? That’s not why he does it, but it’s why he can do it. And that’s why he’s never going to feel bad about it or regret his actions. Putting victims’ families on television won’t guilt him into stopping—he can’t feel guilt. All it’ll do is inflate his ego, and he lives for that. Vanity rules his life.’

Finn indicates to the worn-out covers and dog-eared pages. ‘You really have been diving into this.’

‘Knowledge is power, right?’

‘Sleep is important too. Make sure you get some.’

‘Yeah, I will.’ I pause when the bathroom door opens.

‘Hi. Hi, Finn,’ Cait says, emerging in track pants and a tee.

‘Nice hair,’ I comment.

‘She did a good job,’ Cait agrees.

‘Got some pink in it this time,’ Finn says.

‘Lizzy wanted me to go the full mermaid, but it was a bit much, I thought.’

‘Mermaid?’

Cait rolls her eyes. ‘Never mind. Oh—you got another postcard,’ she tells me.

‘Who sends postcards?’ Finn asks.

‘Dawny,’ I say with a grin and get up. I grab it and sit back down. The cartoon is of a couple of women in tiny bikinis passed out on a beach being burnt to a comical crisp. The tagline reads Traditional Aussie Barbecue and tells me they’re in Noosa. Dawny has written: Only ever seen men that badly burnt. Desmond picked this one.

I snort out a laugh.

‘I don’t get it,’ Cait says, reading over my shoulder.

‘You wouldn’t,’ I tell her. ‘Just an old joke between friends.’

Finn takes the postcard and groans. ‘They’re enjoying themselves, then.’

‘On their way down the coast. That’s postcard number twenty-something. I’ll miss receiving them once they get back.’

‘Back where, exactly?’

‘Who knows? She did threaten to see me soon in the last one.’

‘I want to meet them,’ Cait says, pouring a juice and sitting. ‘Caught the weirdo yet?’

I sigh into my coffee. ‘I wish.’

‘Our new chaperone’s pretty cute,’ she says with a cheeky grin. ‘Saw a couple of kids from school as I got in the car. Gonna have some explaining to do tomorrow.’

‘Sorry about that. Might have to get used to it for a bit.’

‘I could just not go to school …?’

‘Good try. But school is important. I told you, if you don’t feel comfortable here while this is going on, I can make other arrangements.’

‘Where else am I gonna go? If you don’t want me here, just say so!’ She gets up, taking her juice.

‘That’s not it at all,’ I tell her calmly. ‘I just want you to be safe.’

‘How can I be safer than with all these cops everywhere?’ She dumps the remainder of her juice in the sink and storms towards her bedroom.

Damn it. ‘Cait!’

‘Lizzy’s calling!’ The door bangs shut.

‘That escalated quickly,’ Finn says.

‘It does sometimes. She acts tough, but that’s a pretty thin shell she’s walking around in. It’s stuffed with immaturity, insecurity, and a whole lot of damaged parts she’s working hard on rebuilding.’

‘Didn’t you say that once she turned sixteen she wanted to find other accommodation?’

‘She’ll get lost again.’ A hint of a headache has me tugging at my tight bun to release my hair. ‘There’s potential for her to—What?’ I ask as I shake out my hair and Finn’s gaze briefly intensifies.

‘Nothing,’ he murmurs, and focuses on his coffee. ‘Go on.’

‘To make something of herself, something she can be proud of. She just doesn’t have the confidence to own it yet. She’s still figuring out who she really is, as opposed to who she’s had to be. She needs time.’

‘You really care about her.’

‘She’s putting in effort. She wants to succeed. So, I’m gonna make damn sure she has every opportunity to.’

Finn’s phone pings and he checks it, mutters under his breath and gets to his feet. ‘Sorry. That’s Olivia. I’m getting the hurry-up. We’re grabbing some dinner and she’s following me back to my place from work.’ He frowns as he glances at his watch. ‘I was sure she said she wouldn’t be ready to leave for another hour.’

Yeah, but that was before you came over here. ‘Have fun,’ I tell him, getting to my feet as he puts his mug in the sink and heads for the door.

He stops at the door. ‘Please just … give Dowd a chance. No more trying to scare him off. Promise?’

I grimace. ‘Like a promise promise? Or just an “I’ll do my best” kinda deal? Because …’

He huffs out an involuntary laugh, then I get the but seriously look. So I shrug.

‘Let’s see what happens.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tuesday, October 10

Lexi burst into the taskforce room, Dowd on her heels. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to hold my hand?’

‘I’d be happy to hold your hand.’

‘Because if you touch me again, you’ll be doing it with broken fingers, so just give me an excuse.’

Dowd’s sigh was audible from where Finn sat. ‘I was simply guiding you ahead of me through the doors—’

‘Do I seem in any way visually impaired? Excessively overweight? Suffering from spatial perception issues?’

‘No.’

‘Then was I ever really likely to miss the big hole in the wall? A small fucking aircraft could get through that door without hitting anything.’

‘I stay behind you in case of any danger. So when you stopped—’

‘Your stealthy, GI Joe hands just fell onto my arse?’

‘I bumped into you, accidentally. I was checking for threats.’

Lexi spun, eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps you should be more concerned with this threat.’

‘Morning!’ Finn said brightly, noting the heads looking over computer screens. With a tight smile at Julian, he steered Lexi back out of the room. ‘Rough night?’

‘I need a joint. It’s all this shit Vaughn’s put in my head. JD is not enough.’

‘How much sleep did you get?’

‘Some.’

Not enough, he reckoned, and because everyone seemed to have opted for quiet offices this morning, ducked into Rachael’s empty one. ‘You’re missing Mojo?’

‘It’s not like I can’t get my hands on any pot. It’s that I can’t smoke it. One positive random drug test and my chance at making detective goes out the window. How are you supposed to do this job clean?’

‘Hey,’ he said more seriously, noticing the thread of tension in her voice. ‘Sit for a sec and take a breath.’

She blew one out and flopped into Rachael’s chair. ‘Sorry. Just venting.’ She dropped her head back to stare at the ceiling. ‘Fucking Vaughn. The video I just watched … he’s so demented. And there’s hundreds—thousands—of videos from all over the world. They’re not all as bad as the ones he made but even the best of the worst are beyond disgusting and those kids, those poor little kids …’ She pressed her fingers to her eyes and took another heavy breath. He saw her hands shake as she dropped them to the desk. No, nowhere near enough sleep and probably too much alcohol. Vaughn had scored a direct hit, sending her the content of that website.

‘I think you need to give yourself a break.’

‘Agreed. But I can’t help but think there has to be a reason he left that filth other than just for the hell of it. That there’s something in there I’m meant to find. And I can’t find it if I don’t go through everything.’

‘Rachael’s got people on it.’

‘But they don’t know Vaughn. They don’t know me. They could miss something targeted at me.’

‘Then talk to them about that. Make sure everyone’s on the same page,’ Rachael said, stepping in and looking Lexi over with concern. ‘I’ll set you up some time with them straight after our morning meeting, okay?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Good. Now get out of my chair,’ Rachael ordered with a hint of a smile. ‘Let’s get it done.’

Finn followed the women into the taskforce room and took a seat next to Lexi.

‘Good morning,’ Rachael announced, standing at the front.

Olivia snuck in quietly, took a seat on the other side of him with a smile and mouthed, ‘Hi.’

He smiled and whispered, ‘Hi, back.’

‘We’ve spoken to everyone in Constable Winter’s apartment building, no luck there,’ Rachael was saying. ‘We believe we do have Vaughn on CCTV outside the building and though an absolute ID is impossible, his timing and general appearance fit. Unfortunately, the camera outside Lexi’s apartment malfunctioned so we don’t have footage inside the building. How did we go on the package?’

‘Box and tissue paper can be purchased at countless bargain shops, flowers came from Coast Flowers, who distribute to local shops and servos. We’re still looking into it and waiting on forensics,’ someone called back.

‘ANPR?’

‘We checked out all the cars from CCTV including from private businesses along the street and the waterfront. All check out as legit registrations, most are local residents. Ones that aren’t are flagged for follow-up this morning.’

‘How are we going on motels, rental properties, caravan parks and the like within our search radius?’

‘Flying through. Nothing of interest yet. Every accommodation business on the coast has received an email this morning, alerting them to keep an eye out.’

‘How is our press statement looking?’

‘Almost ready.’

‘Great. I want you to collaborate with Detective Brighton today before sending it over to me for final approval.’

‘Yes, inspector.’

‘Are we ready to go live with our hotline?’

‘Up and running, ready for your announcement.’

‘I need to see the sex crimes investigators as soon as we’re done. Any more updates before we move?’

A phone rang. Lexi’s. He recognised the ringtone and watched her bend down to rifle through her bag. ‘Sorry,’ she said, distracted, as she took a moment to locate it. She stared at the screen in disbelief.

‘Constable Winter, are you going to turn that off?’ Rachael asked.

Finn peered across at the screen—DV—and felt his breath lock up. Was that Damon Vaughn?

‘Uh …’ Lexi shifted her gaze from the screen to Rachael, then answered the call on speaker with shaking fingers. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Lexi.’

The voice on the other end of the line sounded robotic, no doubt electronically altered, but Finn’s mind immediately flashed to the cabin where a monster had held his daughter, and a quiet rage surged in his gut. He opened the voice recorder on his phone while Rachael quietly issued orders.

‘I’m afraid I can’t return the sentiment.’ There was a tremor in Lexi’s voice and her face wore a snarl. Her fingers closed into a fist. ‘What’s with the website?’

‘We’ll get to that. Plenty of time.’

‘You’re hanging around then?’ That was better, stronger.

‘I’m not too far away.’

‘So why don’t we meet up?’

‘I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me. One statement, then nothing.’

‘A dedicated task force not enough for you?’

‘No news reports, no stories in the paper. I suppose learning how to be a detective has been keeping you busy. Well done on Cronin, by the way.’

He knew about her last case, about her studying for detective. ‘Been keeping tabs on me? I thought you had things to do.’

A laugh. ‘Just about done. Want to play a game?’

A chill shot up Finn’s spine. What the hell was this? Lexi’s eyes bounced off his with a similar question.

‘I don’t play games with child killers.’

‘What do you think of my website?’

‘I think you’re a sick, twisted fuck who deserves to rot in hell.’

Vaughn chuckled. ‘I thought you’d enjoy it. I noticed your light on most of the night. Not sleeping?’

She stiffened, but her voice remained steady. ‘You care?’

‘What if I offered to hand over the controls, let you shut it all down? The largest child pornography site on the web. Thousands of contributors. Imagine the predators you could catch, the abuse you could stop. Authorities all over the world would be busy for years locking people up. You personally could be responsible for ending it. You could save all those children, toddlers … babies. Today. Would that help you sleep?’

‘All I have to do is play a game with you?’

‘I’m sick of all the kiddy stuff. Becoming the Spider was only ever going to be temporary. I was in prison. I needed money, and the notoriety was a bonus. A bit of fame and fortune, a chance to see if it appealed to me. But children, where’s the challenge in that? Children do what they’re told. They’re … embarrassingly easy for someone like me. Boring. I have more money than I can ever spend, and I wasn’t getting the same sort of headlines overseas. So, here I am. Thinking of you. Don’t disappoint me. Say yes.’

Rachael stood in front of Lexi and shook her head, eyes wide and glaring.

‘What am I saying yes to, exactly?’

‘A rematch. You and me. In the public eye. Lots of publicity. Media updates all the way through.’

‘You’re still pissed off about the world knowing I beat you?’

‘You didn’t beat me! You got a lucky break, that’s all. You got away, but so did I. You’re inferior in every way, and the world needs to know it. I’m going to take it all, Lexi. Your happiness, your credibility, your sanity … and then I’m going to kill you. One game, Lexi. To take your life away and take mine back. Or, if you’re good enough, for you to take me in.’

Lexi’s laugh was hollow but deliberate. ‘It’s really gonna hurt when I beat you again, you know that, right? What’s the game?’

There’s an audible, angry intake of breath. ‘Five people will be dead by the end of this month. First one’s already in the ground. You think you can stop me?’

‘That’s not a game, that’s my job.’

‘I’m even going to give you the first one. Phillip Brookes. He’s your key to the rest. Use the first four to figure out who my last victim will be and get them safely through the night of the thirty-first. You save that victim, and on the first of November, I’ll turn myself in. Simple enough. If you’re as smart as you think you are—and you live that long.’

‘And I’m really supposed to believe if I do that, you’ll just show up to be arrested?’

‘My word is absolute. Whatever else you think I am, I keep it.’

‘If I lose?’

‘Oh, you’ll lose. And we’ll enjoy a little personal time together, you and I. I want that, Lexi. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘And if I say no?’

‘Same as if you lose. Except you don’t get to shut down the website and countless children will continue to suffer.’

Rachael scribbled something on a piece of paper and turned it around. NO.

‘Well, I mean you could try and kill me. But if I say no, you also miss out on your publicity. Your fanfare. Your chance to prove how superior you think you are.’

‘And I’ll make you pay for that,’ he bit out.

‘You think that scares me?’

‘I think you should be scared for the children you’ll be refusing to save. Of how I might choose to … take things out on them.’ His voice was chilling. ‘There’s been so many, but I do have my favourites. Tell me, Lexi. Have you seen the video I made with the little boy in the t-shirt with the blue panda on it yet? His name was Leo. He was six. He had the cutest little grin.’

‘Yes! I saw it.’

‘He was so trusting, to start.’

Lexi’s fingers curled tightly as she surged to her feet. ‘You’re a fucking monster!’

‘But by the time I was finished with him—’

‘I saw what you did, you evil prick!’ Her voice rose and shook.

‘So let’s play, Lexi. And I’ll never do it again.’

Rachael’s pen underlined NO hard enough that the pen ripped through the paper.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘What choice do you have? I wonder how Bailee’s daughter—Lucy, isn’t it?—would look in Leo’s little blue panda t-shirt. I’m sure I could get the blood out.’

Lexi’s whole body jerked. ‘Don’t you touch her!’

‘I know where they live. She and that sweet brother of hers. I’m watching them right now, playing on that pink and blue play equipment in their pretty backyard.’

‘I’ll fucking tear you to pieces!’

Rachael was already issuing orders for units to attend the area.

‘All you have to do is say yes, and I’ll walk away.’

‘All right! Yes! Damn it!’

‘Excellent. Are you scared, Lexi?’

She closed her eyes and pressed her palm to her forehead as she calmed her breathing. ‘No.’

A quiet laugh. ‘You will be.’

The phone beeped, signalling the call had ended. The room remained silent.

‘Are you insane?’ Rachael’s voice vibrated with quiet fury.

‘Probably.’ Lexi’s phone pinged and she hit the message notification with a shaking finger.

‘What is that?’ Rachael asked.

‘Everything I need to shut down his website. Neutron!’

‘Yeah, here!’

‘What are you doing?’ Rachael asked.

‘I didn’t get myself into this for nothing.’

‘Hold it! You know better! There are other agencies involved here. Don’t touch a thing until I’ve spoken to the right people.’

‘But Vaughn—’

‘You shut that down, you tip off all the contributors. You want those arseholes caught and prosecuted, don’t you? You want those kids saved? We do this properly. As for Vaughn, you’ve already instigated God knows what! So help me, if you go rogue on this again, I’ll lock you up!’

‘I had no choice!’

‘You had a choice and we’ll discuss that later.’ Rachael’s voice was frigid. ‘Right now, take Finn and go somewhere out of my sight. Find this Brookes person Vaughn was talking about.’

‘You’ll need me to give you—’

‘Give it to Neutron. When I need you, I’ll let you know. Everyone else—back to work!’

CHAPTER NINE

‘We’ll use the office next to Rachael’s. It’ll be quieter and it’s got a table. We can spread out,’ Finn told Lexi.

‘Sure, wherever,’ she agreed flatly. Her voice said it all. She’d been running on adrenaline, next to no sleep and that filth Vaughn had implanted in her head. Now she’d been put through the wringer on the phone and copped a mouthful from Rachael in front of the entire team.

He planted his hands on the table and caught her eye. ‘Hey, forget all that out there. Rachael wanted to attack this differently and she’s annoyed you didn’t listen. She’ll get over it. We’re here now, this is what’s happening. So let’s get this done. Okay?’

‘How did that number get saved into my phone?’

‘You’re asking me? What do you think?’

‘There’s only a handful of ways he could have done it but I wouldn’t have given him enough credit on the know-how for most of them, and the few remaining options seem impossible.’

‘He has a lot of money. He could have had help.’

‘That’s not an unreasonable assumption. I need to—’

‘Concentrate on this?’

‘Make sure he’s not into everything on my phone!’

‘So turn it off and hand it over to Neutron.’

‘But I can—’

‘Get into a lot more trouble.’

She grimaces. ‘Right.’

He picked up a whiteboard marker and hit play on his phone. As Vaughn’s voice filled the room, he scribbled notes on the board. ‘Five people will be dead by the end of this month. First one’s already in the ground. You think you can stop me?’

‘That’s not a game, that’s my job.’

‘I’m even going to give you the first one. Phillip Brookes. He’s your key to the rest. Use the first four to figure out who my last victim will be and get them safely through the night of the thirty-first. You save that victim, and on the first of November, I’ll turn myself in.’

Lexi opened her laptop and got to work. After a few minutes, she stopped typing and frowned. ‘Phillip Brookes … There’s a recently murdered Phillip Brookes I can see who was a wife beater. His son killed him five weeks ago. We have the son in custody.’

‘Vaughn didn’t kill him. Look for another one.’

‘There aren’t any. Not recently murdered, anyway.’

‘Anything on Brookes yet?’ Rachael asked from the doorway.

‘Not sure if we have the right one,’ Lexi said. ‘Brookes was a cop, retired a few years back. Murdered last month by his twenty-year-old son, Rodney Brookes. Rodney took a plea deal for three years for manslaughter. Apparently, Brooks had been beating his wife. Rodney found out, confronted Dad, confrontation turned violent, Dad died from asphyxiation after Rodney held him too long in a choke hold, apparently in an attempt to restrain him.’

Rachael frowned. ‘That doesn’t add up. Look for any other Phillip Brookes, especially around the coast or Sydney region.’

‘Already done. He’s the only murder vic.’

‘Keep searching. For all we know, there’s a body out there no one’s found yet.’

‘Got it.’

‘And look for any ties to Vaughn. Maybe Rodney’s not our real killer.’

‘Yep. Did Neutron pass on the website details?’

‘Yes. Everything is underway.’

‘He could have turned it all over today,’ Lexi said. ‘There was no need to risk sneaking the content into my apartment.’

‘It was a chance to prove he could get to you at any time,’ Olivia said, walking in with a smile for Finn. ‘To prove he could have killed you to begin with if that’s what he’d wanted. And most importantly for his game, it was bait. An offering designed to guarantee you’d play. He knew exactly how to get to you. It was his ace and he played it straight up. “See all this filth I’m making money off? See how clever I am?” He gave you all that time to rage over those kids, to feel sick to your stomach, then he gave you a golden ticket. “Do what I want and I’ll give you the power to stop it.” He planned, he manipulated, he got what he wanted. And Lexi, that’s going to be how this plays right through. This is no game. It’s a structured attack. He already knows all the moves he needs to win. He won’t let you beat him. This is his very public payback. And if he lets you make it to the end before you lose, think about the final play for a minute—personal time with you. That’s his goal, so he’s set it up. He knows exactly how he’s going to get you alone. He knows exactly how he’s going to get away with murdering you in whatever way he’s decided will be most satisfying. And that should scare the absolute hell out of you.’

‘Your pep talks could really do with some work. Rachael, Vaughn said Brookes was the key to all this, but all he’s given us other than his name is the website content. I wonder if Brookes could be on Vaughn’s site? Maybe there’s more to why his son killed him.’

‘Then the sex crimes squad can look into it. That’s what they’re there for. Anything you need, ask. Teamwork, remember?’

From the look on Lexi’s face, she didn’t miss the slap behind the words. Finn watched her eyes stir with defiance, saw Rachael’s body stiffen in response, and thought, Uh-oh.

‘You heard what he said. If I hadn’t agreed, we wouldn’t have the website, he would—absolutely would—have gone after Bailee’s kids out of spite.’

‘We would have protected them,’ Olivia said.

Rachael spoke almost simultaneously. ‘So you don’t shut him down. You tell him to give you twenty-four hours to think about it. You hang up and you collaborate with your task force. With your team leader. Me. You do not ignore me!’

‘I wasn’t …’ Lexi stared at Rachael and Olivia for several tense beats. She shrugged. ‘So I played right into his hands,’ she said with surprising calm. ‘I didn’t want to wait around to die when I could save countless kids. The phone call rattled me and I was only contemplating yes or no. A “think about it” never occurred to me. I apologise.’

That hadn’t been the response Finn had been anticipating.

‘Accepted,’ Rachael said after another long silence. ‘Let’s move on. We need to give Vaughn his press conference. I’ll set up a brief initial statement for tomorrow morning.’

‘What are we going to say?’ Finn asked.

‘We’re going to have to tell the press as little as we can about the details of this game and concentrate on making a public appeal for information,’ Rachael said. ‘We’re not going to mention the website. I don’t want to be tipping off any paedophiles that we know about it. We’re going to be smart about this, use Vaughn’s desperation to be in the spotlight to our advantage. Give him what he wants. On our terms.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s not going to give up a single second of airtime. We feed the media a little information a couple of times each week. Promise more. Every time we promise more, he’s going to want to hear it. He threatened Lexi with “if she lives that long”, meaning he hasn’t guaranteed not taking her out before the end of the month. He needs to know that, if that happens, that’s it. No matter what else he does, who else he kills, his celebrity status is over. We won’t so much as cover the fallout.’

‘I’ll work out a series of press releases focusing on Vaughn, his history, crimes, psychological state, motivations—make sure we have enough content,’ Olivia said.

‘Thank you, Olivia. Why don’t you get started on that now?’ Rachael said. ‘I’ll be in my office. Let me know if you come up with anything else on Brookes.’

‘I might work in here where it’s quieter,’ Olivia said when Rachael walked away. ‘Assuming that’s okay?’

‘Of course,’ Finn said.

‘Excuse me,’ Lexi said. She gathered her things and walked out.

‘Well, she handled that perfectly,’ Olivia said.

Finn watched Lexi go, worried about the apparent calm. ‘What do you mean?’

‘She disobeys a direct written order, plays the victim, meekly apologises and then just … gets away with it.’

He set his annoyance aside. ‘You make it sound like a contrived ploy. Lexi was caught off guard, threatened and backed into a corner out there.’

‘What she did was worthy of a serious reprimand. I’d be shocked at that behaviour coming from anyone else.’

‘But not from Lexi?’

‘Well, look at her history.’

That grated. ‘You mean during the undercover work that earned her a medal?’

‘During that and before that, yes.’

He shook his head and sighed. ‘You two are chalk and cheese, I get that, but Lexi’s a good officer. If you’d just try and get to know her, you’d see she has a lot to offer.’ He stepped in and rested his hands on her waist, smiled crookedly. ‘It’d be nice if you two could be friends.’

Olivia furrowed her brow. ‘Right now, my focus is on advancing in this job. I don’t want any friendships that could compromise my career. I’d like us to get along in the office,’ she added quickly, ‘but that’s it. She may have gotten a lot of kudos for the last case, but she can’t always be trusted to follow protocol. It’s only a matter of time before she makes a mistake that brings down those close to her professionally. You choose to put yourself in that position, but I won’t risk it. Damn.’ She paused as her phone rang and she untangled herself to check it, then frowned and muted it. ‘I … didn’t mean to turn that into a lecture. Sorry.’ She slid her arms around his neck and dropped her head back to study him. ‘I know she’s your friend and over time, who knows? I just need you to understand my perspective.’

He understood, but wasn’t sure he agreed. ‘She’s not going to get everything right. No one would in this situation. This is going to be tough and she’s going to need the support of her team.’

‘Of course. We’ll get her through it. But after that … Finn, have you ever considered a change of scene?’

He drew back a step. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean something new, a new place, a new start.’

‘Like what? Where?’

She shrugged. ‘I just wondered if you’d ever considered it.’

‘I’m not sure what could top homicide at HQ for me. Besides, I don’t want to move too far from Ava.’

Olivia frowned. ‘She’s growing up. She’ll have her own life soon.’

‘Even more reason to enjoy the few short years she’ll want to spend time with her father.’

Her phone pinged again and she checked it. Sighed. ‘I’ve got a few things to take care of. Can we talk about this later?’

‘Of course.’

‘Great.’ She slipped her phone into her pocket and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. ‘See you later,’ she said and left the room.

New place? New start? It wasn’t that he wasn’t open to talking about it, but their relationship hadn’t seemed to be moving ahead at that sort of serious pace. If it came to it, was he willing to up stakes for Olivia?

Finding no answer, he decided it was more than time to get back to work. Where had Lexi gone, anyway? He messaged her.

When he got no reply he called Julian and discovered she’d gone home. She’d meekly apologised earlier and now she’d gone home? He decided he’d better find out what was going on.

* * *

He found Julian outside her apartment. ‘Why are you standing out here?’ he asked.

The officer’s shrug was almost comical. ‘I was told to stay, so I’m staying.’

‘Oh, for—What are you waiting for, a pat on the head?’

‘Just protecting my teeth.’

He smiled at that, knocked and let himself in. Hearing a series of muted thumps coming from the bedroom, he stopped in his tracks. ‘Lex?’

‘Yeah?’

She was laying into a punching bag hanging from the corner of the room with impressive intensity. When she got sick of him staring, she dropped her arms. ‘What?’

‘When did this happen?’

‘What?’

‘You and exercise?’

She took a long drink from her water bottle and replaced the lid. ‘Zander got me training with his coach, Rodger, when I was undercover with the motorcycle club.’

‘Any reason you’re doing it now?’

A scowl crossed her face. ‘It’s an outlet.’

‘A what?’

She swiped an arm over her brow. ‘It’s one of Rodger’s famous life hacks. If I’m going to be a detective I have to be able to act appropriately. But then I get to beat the shit out of something afterwards to avoid driving myself nuts.’

‘The bag is an outlet.’

‘Correct.’

‘For …’

‘Maybe I expected a bit more from Rachael. How could she not get it? I mean, what was with the whole “No” bullshit? Why not a “give me twenty-four hours” if that’s what she wanted? I was talking to Vaughn, not reading her mind! And could Olivia have looked any more smug? “We would have protected them.” Ha! She couldn’t protect those kids from Vaughn if she had a gun to his head.’ Another whack, then a sheepish grin. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’m actually relieved. You weren’t yourself back there. Way too quiet.’

‘Oh, I had words. So many, many words. But this works. All I have to do is visualise and—’ She whacked the bag again, hard, and smiled in satisfaction.

‘If it makes a difference, I would have done the same thing.’

She stopped punching and her arms fell to her sides, the tension in her shoulders eased. ‘Huh?’

‘I was right there with you all the way.’ Then he said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘Just don’t tell Rachael.’

She didn’t laugh, but her expression hinted at an unexpected gratitude that caught him in the gut. ‘I’ll be back in the office shortly. Acting appropriately again.’

‘Good to know.’

A punching bag. An outlet. He supposed she’d stop surprising him. One day.

CHAPTER TEN

Wednesday, October 11

‘Glad I get to stay up here today,’ Lexi told Finn as they watched Rachael on screen, preparing to face the media downstairs.

‘Don’t get used to it,’ he said. ‘They’re going to want to talk to you.’

The conference room was ready, neatly arranged chairs facing the stage, microphones primed and an official police logo adorning the back wall. Rachael checked her notes and nodded her head. As the doors swung open, journalists and reporters streamed in, armed with notepads and cameras, the noise level rising several decibels above comfortable. Vaughn wanted an audience, Finn thought. He was getting one.

Approaching the microphone, Rachael greeted the media and introduced herself. ‘As many of you are aware, Task Force Teras has been set up in the pursuit of the serial child predator, Damon Vaughn,’ she announced, displaying the recently acquired age-progressed image. ‘As of two days ago, I can confirm Vaughn is back in the country and the full strength of Task Force Teras is actively on the hunt for him. Just yesterday, he reached out to police. He’s fixated on a member of our force, Constable Lexi Winter, who played a pivotal role in rescuing a child he abducted back in 2020.

‘Vaughn claims he plans to target five victims in the upcoming weeks and has thrown down a public challenge to Constable Winter to capture him before he claims his final victim at the end of this month. He’s labelling this twisted scenario a game. Why? Because he views his highly publicised failure to carry out a planned crime against the child Constable Winter saved during the Spider case as an affront to his ego that he cannot accept. He’s led us to believe that if we agree to publicise this case, he’ll cease harming children. Hence, we’re committed to keeping the media updated as we continue our pursuit to bring him to justice. The purpose of today is to make you aware of what will be happening over the course of this month. We’ll have our first official press conference on Monday morning. I’ll take just a few questions at this stage.’

‘Inspector, will Constable Winter be speaking to us this morning?’

‘Constable Winter will be available for comment on Monday.’

‘Inspector, do you really believe Vaughn will stop harming children if you agree to his game?’

‘Yes, I believe his sole focus will be on his game.’

‘Inspector, do you feel like you’re gambling with five innocent lives by agreeing to this game?’

‘Vaughn has killed before and he’ll continue to kill as long as he’s able. We need to take every opportunity to bring him to justice.’

‘Do you really believe Vaughn’s devised all of this due to a slight on his ego?’

‘His actions are the result of a complex psychological pathology that our team’s police psychologist, Detective Olivia Brighton, will explain in detail over the coming days and weeks. At present we plan on holding a press conference each Monday and Thursday, as I’ve said, starting next Monday, at nine am. We may add to this schedule as events unfold. In the meantime, we implore anyone with information regarding Vaughn’s whereabouts to promptly contact our hotline. If you encounter him, it’s imperative you refrain from approaching him under any circumstances. He poses an imminent threat and is highly dangerous.

‘I’d like to add we’re issuing a million-dollar reward for any information that leads to his arrest. That’s all for now, we’ll see you back here Monday morning.’

‘And so it begins,’ Linc announced as Rachael walked back into the taskforce room.

‘Hmm,’ she agreed. ‘I think that went well as far as initial steps go. Lexi, I received an update early this morning. The sex crimes squad and federal police have been liaising with our international partner agencies in several countries over the website content. We’re only hours in but they’re planning the first of the arrests.’

‘Great news,’ Lexi said coolly, staring at her laptop.

‘Olivia,’ Rachael continued, ‘let’s take a look at that schedule you’ve devised for drip-feeding Vaughn’s information to the press in say, half an hour?’

‘Of course. And I was hoping to contact Vaughn’s prison psychologist this morning. Maybe even organise a time to drive down and speak to him in person. I thought he might be able to provide some valuable insight.’

‘Great idea.’

Olivia checked her phone. Frowned. ‘Actually … I could use a proper coffee before I get started. Where was that café you got them from yesterday?’ she asked Finn.

‘A couple of buildings down and across the road.’

‘Anyone want one?’

‘I do,’ Linc said.

‘Just had one, so no, thank you,’ Rachael said.

‘They’ll deliver,’ Finn said.

‘I’d like the walk,’ Olivia said a little too quickly. ‘Lexi?’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Want company?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s fine.’ Olivia walked away, phone back in hand and obviously preoccupied, and Finn felt an all-too-familiar suspicion stir in his gut. He wondered how she thought he could be so blind to something going on.

‘I assume you two are still on Brookes first up?’ Rachael directed at him and Lexi.

‘Yeah,’ he said.

‘Linc?’

‘Cass and I are following up on some possible sightings of Vaughn. One might be linked to a vehicle.’

‘Great. Let me know how that goes as soon as possible.’

Lexi gathered her things and stepped out.

‘She’s angry with me,’ Rachael said.

‘You snapped at her in front of the whole team on day one.’

‘She spoke to you about it?’

‘Not really. Though it could have been mentioned that a written direction for time to think rather than a straight up no could have helped her out.’

Rachael’s face reflected concern. ‘Complete honesty—I wasn’t thinking anything at the time other than wanting to keep her safe. It made me ill, hearing her agree to Vaughn’s game. Olivia’s right. He’s gone to a lot of trouble to set this up. He knows every step, every play. And the second he gets bored with it or things don’t go his way, he’ll kill her. Nothing means more to him than Lexi’s total destruction, and nothing means more to me than preventing it. We were all put on the spot. All I knew was I didn’t want her to say yes because … Finn, she can’t win this.’

Finn laughed grimly. ‘Watch her.’

* * *

He got held up in the taskforce room, was a half-hour behind and well into the coffee Olivia had brought back for him before he was able to go looking for Lexi. When he did, he found her in the office they’d shared yesterday.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey,’ she said, and looked longingly at his coffee.

‘You said you didn’t want one.’

‘I didn’t. Before.’

He sighed and slid the cup across the table.

She snatched it up with a grin. ‘Thanks.’

‘How are you going?’

‘I found something on Brookes. He left the force in 2005 suffering PTSD, after working as a local detective for Tuggerah Lakes Police District. A year earlier, he’d been called to a robbery at a Toukley chemist when one of the cars involved was identified as belonging to a person of interest in one of his cases. Turns out that person was Vaughn. During the arrest, Brookes was badly assaulted. Brookes managed to cuff Vaughn to the car but suffered a broken arm, three stab wounds, bruised ribs and a severe concussion. Vaughn ended up having extra time added to his sentence for the assault.’

‘So this is about payback? This would suddenly be making a lot more sense if Vaughn had killed him. What were the details surrounding Rodney’s arrest? Are we sure he did it? Could Vaughn have framed him?’

‘According to the police record, his mother and his best mate witnessed the attack and Rodney never denied it. He and his drunken father came to blows, his father went down. Rodney grabbed him in a choke hold to stop him throwing punches, father passed out, never woke up. Cops attended the scene, Rodney told them what had happened. This was verified by wife and friend when he was arrested.’

‘You said his motive was his father’s abuse of his mother. If this had been going on for some time, what prompted the attack now?’

‘There’s no mention of that. He says he didn’t mean to kill him.’

‘Meant it or not, he did. What else do we have on Rodney?’

‘He’s clean.’

‘Dig deeper. What’s the go with your phone?’ he asked when it kept buzzing.

Lexi checked it. ‘I keep getting voicemails from numbers I don’t recognise. The first two I listened to were reporters wanting me to answer questions on Vaughn. I’m guessing that’s what the rest are about so I’m ignoring them.’ She dropped her phone back into her bag.

‘Lexi!’ Neutron appeared at the doorway. ‘A video’s just popped up on TikTok.’

‘What?’

They followed him into the taskforce room, where Vaughn’s face was up on the screen. Their aged-up mock-up hadn’t been too far off. His dark hair was peppered with grey but the lines on his face weren’t as deep and his hair and grooming were immaculate, the neat and tidy black shirt casually unbuttoned at the top and sporting a bee at the breast, his posture straight and confident on a fit and strong frame. He looked friendly, relaxed, attractive. Until you looked into his eyes. Those flat, cold eyes. Really looked. Nothing he could do, no friendly voice, no smile, would ever quite reach them.

‘Hey—that’s a Dior polo. Those things retail for a thousand bucks!’

‘Always making a statement,’ Rachael said. At her nod, Neutron pressed a key on his laptop.

‘Hello, everyone,’ Vaughn said on screen in a smooth, engaging tone. ‘I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Damon Vaughn. I’m sure the police will tell you many things about me over the next few weeks. Some of them will be true. Many of them will not.

‘What is true: I’ve taken lives. Before I went to prison I worked for a drug lord. I’m responsible for the deaths of rival criminals; drug-dealing scum the police couldn’t touch. I don’t feel sorry about that. I know that will sit uncomfortably with some of you, but that’s the truth.

‘While I was doing my time, the police investigating those associated with me visited frequently. They were determined to convince me to work for them. I was due for release and they wanted my assistance in dismantling the crime family I’d worked for. I repeatedly declined their offers, wanting nothing but a fresh start, and in doing so, I made powerful enemies within the police force.

‘When I walked out of prison, I believed I was free. But the police were facing another major dilemma: a child predator. They had no idea who they were dealing with but the public were in a panic, demanding answers. Suddenly, my name and face were all over the news. Yes, you guessed it. I had refused to comply with their demands, and I became their patsy. What better way to ensure they could reel me right back in than to label me a child predator? Who is more hated? More feared? More likely to be turned on by the public?

‘Don’t believe me? Look for one video, one solid piece of evidence that the person who did those things was me. You won’t find it. Oh, they can place me at locations they say are significant, but funnily enough, my back was always turned or I was wearing a disguise or they have fingerprints in a public place … convenient, circumstantial. False.

‘After years of being unable to live the life I should be entitled to, I’ve discovered they’ve assembled a task force to locate me. Why? Because I’ve been online, finding others who’ve faced similar lies by corrupt police. These police know we’re communicating, not just between ourselves, but with anyone willing to listen. And they’re desperate to silence me. Don’t fall for it—do your own research and reach your own conclusions.

‘Constable Lexi Winter was once like me. She had a rough start and turned to crime in order to survive. She too was approached by the police. But unlike me, she chose to join them. They used her, had her label me a predator and put her in the public eye. She was a pretty, sympathetic face, a former victim of the crime they accused me of. Who wouldn’t believe her? What they call an outstanding young officer I call a cover model for a crooked piece of police propaganda.

‘But again, don’t believe me. Let me prove it. I’ve operated on the wrong side of the law, witnessed firsthand the real dangers that lurk in our streets and the ineffectiveness of the police in stopping them. That’s why I’ve taken matters into my own hands. The system is broken, and I’m willing to use myself as bait to prove it to you all.

‘I’ve identified five individuals who I believe pose a real threat to our community, and I’ve challenged Constable Winter and her New South Wales police force to stop me taking them off the streets. She’ll call it murder. I call it public safety. I don’t think you’ll judge me too harshly when you see what they’ve done.

‘I’ve given her a fair start. All I ask is that the police play this out publicly every step of the way to ensure this is a fair fight. If Constable Winter succeeds, I’ll accept the consequences. I’ll humbly apologise and surrender myself. If she fails, well, I hope at least some of you will start to question the status quo.

‘My actions might seem extreme, but as the victim of a deliberate police ploy to ruin my life and reputation, I’ve been forced to live in the shadows for too long. For me, it’s time to stand up and take my power back. Perhaps, as a society, we all need to reclaim some power. Please feel free to follow me on the links on screen. I’d love and appreciate your support.’

‘What the fuck?’ Lexi exclaimed in disbelief.

Finn stared into the face now frozen on the screen. What an act. Would anyone believe it? Could Vaughn’s ego possibly be so huge he’d believe anyone could look past who he is? What he’s done?

Phones were going off all over the room and the chatter was full of buzz and urgency.

‘No one could disregard all the evidence we have against him,’ Cass said.

‘He’s playing a smart game,’ Rachael said. ‘He knows we can’t release the videos, they’re obscene and violate every law of public screening. He knows if we discuss the website, it’ll tip off all the contributors we’re trying to catch and we’ll lose them. Any statements or evidence coming from anyone in law enforcement can be rebuked by anyone choosing to believe him.’

‘Right,’ Olivia agreed. ‘And the demographic he’s targeting with his powerlessness and injustice angles is not going to give it any real consideration anyway. He’s appealing to those who lack critical thinking skills, who are susceptible to persuasive messaging, shared beliefs and biases, emotional triggers, propaganda and charismatic leadership.’

‘I’ll issue a statement rebutting that ridiculous rubbish and we can release parts of the conversation we recorded, but while the dust settles, I wouldn’t mind getting Lexi out of the way,’ Rachael said. ‘Finn, why don’t you and Lexi head down to Goulburn this afternoon? I want you to talk to Rodney Brookes in supermax. See what he has to say for himself. You probably won’t be able to meet with him until tomorrow, so book some accommodation while I make the arrangements and stay right away from the media.’

Lexi shifted in her chair, looked uncomfortable. ‘Yeah, nah, I don’t think so. Can I take Linc instead?’

What? Finn opened his mouth to object as Linc looked up, startled and said, ‘Yeah, I can be available. Absolutely.’

There was a pause as Rachael considered the change in plans, then nodded and reassigned tasks. ‘Okay, Lexi and Linc then. Dowd, take Lexi home so she can pack, please.’

‘Julian, please,’ Dowd corrected. ‘Lexi insists we’re on first-name basis.’ He shot Lexi a light-hearted grin. ‘It’s friendlier.’

‘And he’s going to need to keep an eye on Cait while I’m gone,’ Lexi grated with a forced smile for Julian. ‘Or I don’t go.’

Rachael hesitated.

‘Come on, Rachael, you know you can only stretch everyone so far. You said you have him on board to protect both of us. I’ve got Linc. I won’t go anywhere without him or do anything stupid. Cait gets Dow—Julian. I can’t leave her alone.’

‘Okay. But you keep that promise,’ Rachael insisted.

‘Absolutely. Thanks.’

‘And you’re armed, both of you. At all times. From now until Vaughn is safely locked up.’ When Lexi nodded, Rachael’s gaze swung around the room. ‘All right. Back to it, everyone.’

Lexi got up and headed for Julian. Finn caught up.

‘Hey!’

When she stopped, he asked, ‘What was that?’

‘That?’

‘Have we had a fight and I don’t remember?’

‘Why would you say that?’

‘Because you overrode Rachael and requested Linc.’

She frowned. ‘I thought you’d prefer it that way.’

‘What, why?’

‘Because you spending a night holed up with me in a motel might put a little strain on your relationship?’

‘It’s work!’

Her mouth twisted. ‘And Olivia looked completely comfortable with it.’

‘She what?’ He spun and looked for Olivia, couldn’t see her. ‘Oh.’

‘You’re welcome. Julian!’ Lexi left without a second glance.

He watched her go. He hadn’t realised gaining a girlfriend would mean losing a partner. But more and more, that was the direction things seemed to be heading.

‘Everything all right?’ Rachael asked.

‘Yeah. Lexi just had some weird idea that Olivia had looked uncomfortable when you suggested I go to Goulburn.’

‘She’s right, she did,’ Rachael said matter-of-factly. ‘Can we move on? Linc was supposed to chase up those witnesses with Cass. I’ll need you to do it. Cass has the details.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Didn’t see that coming from Vaughn,’ Linc says finally as we drive into Goulburn. We’ve spent most of the trip discussing our questions for Brookes and either listening to or debating Linc’s eclectic taste in music, but a quick call from Finn and Cass has put us back on task. ‘Some sort of warped popularity contest.’

‘The public aren’t that stupid.’

‘What public have you been dealing with?’

‘I don’t mean the very special few we lock up on a daily basis. I mean the majority. The rest of them. And generally anyone with kids. What were those links he posted?’

‘One was definitely to an X account. But I think he’s across all the popular ones.’

I look up his account on X. ‘Wow, okay, it’s really getting some attention.’

‘Positive or negative?’

‘Both. Some really nasty comments calling him out—go, good people—but, I hate to say it, there are those who seem to be—ew—nothing short of in love with him.’

‘Not him. The version of him he put out there. Remember that. If we could post just one video of what he really is, there’s very few people out there sick enough to defend that.’

‘Yeah, but that’s not what he put out there and we can’t put up what we know. And—Oh, here we go, Vaughn’s already got a tweet out disputing the phone conversation excerpt we just posted as being a cheap and nasty example of police bullshit. Notice how the voice is altered, blah blah. And if Rachael’s right and these people won’t believe anything we publicly release then …’

‘We’re screwed on that front. But we’ve got a great media contingent. They’re working on it.’

‘They’re going to have to be spectacular. But it’s catching the bastard that’s important. The rest of this shit is just noise.’

‘You’re not even a little bit concerned about how you’re perceived out there in the big, bad media?’

‘Have I ever been concerned about being popular?’

‘Point. Actually, you seem quite upbeat.’

‘The website’s coming down. Now every time I close my eyes, I picture another disgusting grub getting a knock on his door and a long prison sentence. I’ll wear being … what was it? A crooked piece of police propaganda for that.’

‘He did call you pretty though.’

‘Way to make my skin crawl. When we catch him, I’m going to feed him his testicles.’

‘I’ll help. Oh, this is it.’

‘This is what?’

‘So, here’s the thing. It was a last-minute booking. On top of a bunch of road workers from that highway upgrade filling the motels, there’s an upcoming steampunk festival, the greyhound races and a travelling carnival in town. The only rooms I could get were way out of town, at a hostel, a bed and breakfast designed for weddings and newlyweds—which is this one—or one of a couple of exorbitantly priced places I’d get fired on the spot for even googling.’

Through a sea of manicured trees, shrubs and stretches of immaculate lawns, I see what looks like a small mansion from another era. ‘Well, the gardens are pretty and it looks … tranquil.’

Linc’s famous grin stretches across his face. ‘Hanging baskets! Who doesn’t love a hanging basket?’

I chuckle. ‘It’s gorgeous. A gorgeously strange place to stay for work.’

We park in the pebble driveway and step onto a wide veranda and through a leadlight front door into a foyer of polished floorboards, gleaming furniture and high ceilings—okay, it’s charming—only to be told one of the rooms wasn’t quite ready, would we like to enjoy a complimentary charcuterie board and champagne on the veranda? Because the wind is blowing, we opt for the room that is ready and take our bags upstairs.

As Linc has insisted on carrying them both, I push the door open and choke out a laugh. The room is lit in golden hues, a fourposter king-sized bed draped in white linen its centrepiece. Plush armchairs sit by large windows overlooking the garden. Soft music plays discreetly in the background. In the ensuite beyond, I can see a sunken spa bath surrounded by flickering candles. ‘Ah …’

Linc walks in around me. ‘There’s rose petals on the bed.’ Linc grins back.

It probably should be awkward, but whatever inner child I have left is in fits of laughter. I bounce onto the bed, settle back against the plush headboard and cross my legs at the ankles. ‘So,’ I ask with a wicked wiggle of my eyebrows, ‘what do you wanna do?’

‘Careful,’ he threatens, and puts the bags down. ‘I’m not teddy bear Finn.’

‘He told you I called him that?’ I ask in surprise.

‘Last case, right? Not sure he’s over it.’

‘Here we are,’ Beth, our apologetic hostess says, coming in with a tray and sliding it onto a small table. ‘Enjoy. Your second room will be ready shortly.’

‘Thank you,’ I tell her. She’s barely out the door when Linc begins pouring two glasses of champagne and hands me one, then picks up the charcuterie board, puts it in the middle of the bed and sits beside me. ‘Not wasting this stuff.’

‘Absolutely not.’ I study the champagne. Taste it. I don’t like wine but I can handle a few free sparkles. I load some orange-coloured cheese onto a wafer. ‘We should let Rachael know we’ve arrived.’

‘You mean you’ve forgiven her?’

‘I—What?’

‘You think just because you act professional your face cooperates?’

‘I wish everyone would give me a break on that.’

His eyes gleam with mischief. ‘Hold on.’ He gets back up, grabs his laptop and carefully positions it on the bed.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Stirring.’ He plays with the angle, making sure as much of the bed, charcuterie board and champagne glasses make it into the shot as possible, before reclining.

The Zoom call connects, Rachael front and centre. ‘Working hard?’ she says dryly.

Linc raises his glass in a toast. ‘Someone’s gotta do it.’

‘Hmm,’ Rachael answers, a tolerant smile tugging at her lips. ‘Just a sec.’ She slides back her computer screen and Finn and Olivia come into view. ‘You really shouldn’t be drinking on the job. Where are you?’

‘I’ve never in my life seen Gone with the Wind but I think we could be on set,’ I say.

‘It’s a bed and breakfast,’ Linc answers. ‘For couples and newlyweds.’

‘Couples and newlyweds?’ Rachael echoes.

‘Everything else was booked out,’ Linc says. ‘Every event this town holds seems to be on at present. Or is about to be. Besides,’ he shoots me a teasing grin, ‘you did tell me to keep a close eye on her.’

‘Hmm. You’re booked in to see Brookes at nine. Have you got your questions ready?’

‘We’ve thrown around some ideas, we’ll nail them down now,’ I tell her.

‘But the carnival is on,’ Linc complains. ‘Our hostess Beth said we can’t miss it. There’s a circus, music, games, entertainment …’

‘Dinner?’ I ask, checking out the board. ‘Because this is not going to go far and I’m starving.’

‘You’re supposed to be lying low,’ Finn says edgily. ‘Staying safe.’

I frown at that because well, tone. ‘I said I’d stay with Linc, not hide in a bedroom for the next—’ I check my watch, ‘—sixteen hours. Is Cait okay?’

‘Fine,’ Rachael says. ‘All sorted.’

‘Thanks. Hey—don’t pinch all the brie!’ I swat at Linc’s hand.

‘I’ll bring you back a local wine!’ Linc promises. When he ends the call he chuckles to himself.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘You didn’t tell them we had two rooms.’

‘Why would they care? Besides, it’ll make Olivia feel better.’

He falls back dramatically. ‘Oh, I’m being used!’

‘Like you’d mind.’

‘Not at all. So are we going out?’

‘Yeah,’ I decide, scooping up the last of the cheese. ‘Why not?’

* * *

I’ve never done the carnival thing. It’s okay. Crowded. Linc’s determined to get me on every ride from the Ferris wheel to the merry-go-round, the pirate ship and the roller coaster, and succeeds with absolutely none. I’ve got a feeling my stomach’s not really up for that kind of thing, but we do get stuck into some pretty revolting deep-fried food as we take in the sights surrounding the huge red and white–striped circus tent that looms over everything.

‘So, not that I mind—at all—but why the Finn brush-off?’ Linc asks as we wander. ‘Olivia’s really giving you a hard time?’

‘Did you not see the daggers she was shooting me across the table when Rachael suggested this? Why do people have to go and start relationships?’

‘No clue. What’s the go with them, anyway?’

‘I don’t know. I stay out of it.’

‘I mean it’s been, what, six months? Usually it would be over or serious by now, right?’

‘I couldn’t tell you.’

‘But they’re still at the dating stage.’

‘Maybe that’s all they want.’

‘How could you not know? You and Finn are thick as thieves.’

‘Not so much recently. Why all the questions?’

‘McGrath from organised crime has a thing for sophisticated, super-smart blondes. He was wondering.’

‘Sophisticated, super-smart, pain in the arse blonde,’ I mutter as I pass by a trio of overexcited kids devouring coloured popcorn.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Wait there.’ He pauses to order two fluffy sticks of pink and blue fairy floss from a nearby van, then hands me one with a boyish grin and shrugs. ‘Seemed like a sugar moment.’

I eye it sceptically. ‘Is this actually safe to eat?’

‘Totally. It’s spun sugar and colouring.’ Then he realises. ‘You’ve never had fairy floss?’

‘Nope.’ I pinch a bit off and taste it. It dissolves into sticky sweetness in my mouth. ‘I guess it’s okay.’ I stop to watch a couple of young girls shooting hoops for a stuffed toy.

‘My forte,’ Linc says, and pays for a turn. ‘Once I win that enormous pink bear up there, we’ll call it Finn and buy an extra seat in the circus to put it on.’

I laugh at that. ‘I don’t need to see the circus.’

‘Have you ever been to a circus?’

‘No.’

He grins and approaches the ticket stand. ‘Then we’re going to see the circus.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dino Armstrong sat on the floor of the room that used to be Sophie Bennett’s and drank beer. ‘It’s gotta be in here somewhere,’ he said, tempted to start prying up floorboards. ‘We know she took it.’

‘Mate, there’s nowhere left to look,’ Stewie said. ‘She offloaded it. We would have found it by now.’

Everything that had been Sophie’s, that had sat for too long in a room that should have gone to another teen by now, had been bundled up and taken away, save for the skeletons of some furniture and the posters covering the walls. They’d carefully gone through it all after she’d died. Carefully, because the cops had said they weren’t to touch anything, but they’d had to make sure. They’d gone through it again when they thought they’d get away with a better look. Then Bobby had gone through it like a tornado after he’d lost the plot and couldn’t cope without being strung out full time, and because he had been so damn sure it was here and they were chasing a score, they’d drunkenly decided they’d give the room one more shot.

‘Can’t you go get some more off dear old grandma?’ Stewie asked Eddie.

‘You think she hands it out like fucking lollies?’ Eddie asked. ‘New trial this week, no spare product. Besides, there’s a big order to fill.’

‘We should go get ourselves a chick anyway. Have some sorta fun,’ Stewie muttered.

Dino looked around the room at the walls decorated in posters of horror movies and dark things. ‘This bitch was fun.’

‘This bitch was fucked in the head,’ Stewie muttered into his beer.

‘Yeah, from memory, that was one of the places we did her,’ Eddie replied, causing them all to snigger. Dino toasted him with his near empty beer bottle.

‘But seriously. Look at this room. You know she was into seances and devil rituals and all that fucked-up shit, right?’ Stewie said.

‘You saying her fucked-up shit beats our fucked-up shit?’ Eddie challenged, looking at him over the rim of his beer.

‘Nah. I’m saying if anyone was gonna conjure up some evil fucking entity like Bobby reckons he was seeing, it would have been Sophie. We’re the fucking kings of fucked up, bro.’

‘Damn straight.’

‘So let’s have some fun.’ Stewie drained his beer and rolled the bottle at Dino. ‘We can still go find ourselves a bitch.’

‘Maybe.’ Dino pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, took a drag and had a thought. ‘What about that friend of Lizzy’s?’

‘Caitlin.’ Eddie drew her name out like a particularly tasty morsel. ‘I could wrap my hands around some purple hair. If we knew where she lived.’

‘Bobby had a go. Got rejected.’

‘Coulda had her in time, though. We woulda been up for a ride.’ Stewie pinched a smoke and lit it up, his face dejected. ‘Ah, fuck, Bobby. Why’d you do it?’

‘I reckon the new shit screwed him up,’ Dino said.

‘It’s a wild ride,’ Eddie acknowledged.

‘Maybe he took more on Saturday. Maybe too much,’ Stewie said.

‘Nah, didn’t have any to hand out. End of this week at the earliest.’

‘So what if, then, you know, someone really was fucking with him?’ Stewie asked, taking another look around the room. ‘What if it wasn’t all hallucinations?’

Dino sniggered. ‘Here we are, in Sophie’s lair … Want to see if you can make something appear?’

‘Shut up,’ Stewie groaned. ‘I mean, what if someone knows what really happened to Sophie?’

‘Who?’ Eddie asked. ‘You been shooting your mouth off?’

‘Nah, man. No way!’

‘Right, then.’

‘Besides,’ Dino said, ‘you heard the weird shit Bobby was saying. No way it was a person doing that. He lost it. Had a bad reaction, took too much shit, I dunno.’

‘All I know,’ Eddie said, studying his beer bottle, ‘was I was getting worried he was gonna say something stupid to the wrong people. More to the point, Gran was worried. Could have turned out worse if we’d had to shut him up ourselves.’

‘Fuck that,’ Dino said. He picked up the bottle Stewie had rolled away and threw it at the wall. It caught the edge of a poster of a screaming black bird and partially ripped it from the wall.

All three stopped, staring. The gaping space from the ripped poster revealed several small sachets of crystals taped to the wall.

‘Well, well, well,’ Eddie said, getting to his feet, a Cheshire cat grin taking over his lean face. ‘Ready to have some fun, gentlemen?’

* * *

Dino bounded into his room at 3am on top of the fucking world. Fuck, what a night! The bitch hadn’t known what hit her. She’d been asking for it, strutting around on the street after midnight looking for free alcohol and paid sex. She’d got her free alcohol, ha, just not the way she’d expected. Man, they’d had some fun with that bottle. Yeah, that had been a full-on few hours she’d never forget. Epic night. The drug had still been coursing through his veins like liquid energy when they’d arrived back at Eddie’s place and eaten their way through the contents of the fridge, but he was suddenly tired and, man, it was hot. He didn’t bother to turn on the light, just pulled off his clothes and fell on the bed.

His fall was met with the sting of a thousand needles, a sticky wetness, the sickly scent of rot and a lump under his chest.

His stomach heaved as he awkwardly scurried up and lunged for the light switch. He looked down first, saw bloody red dots appearing all over his chest. A stringy length of something biological slipped from the gore stuck there. On the bed, amid a sea of broken glass, lay a large black bird, perhaps a crow, its wings spread, torso laid open wide, its rotten insides on display, crawling with insects. Dead eyes stared back at him, beak open wide in a silent scream, spindly legs up, claws open as though reaching for him.

Dino stumbled back, pulling at the broken glass gouging him, and caught a glimpse of bright red writing on the broken window.

DIE

What the fuck? His initial shock turned to anger. Who? Who the fuck would mess with him like this? Did someone think this shit was funny? He was going to rip their heads from their fucking necks! No one, no one messed with him like this.

He saw a movement outside. Ha! Got ya! He smiled spitefully, picked up the largest shard of glass from the bed and crept outside, looked around. The backyard was bordered by an old four-string wire fence leading onto the rural property behind their development. Dark, tree-studded paddocks, no light save for a quarter moon meant he searched with difficulty. A rustle had him spinning.

‘You’re fucking dead!’ he taunted. ‘That crow’s gonna look pretty compared to you!’

He moved quietly, following every small sound, every possible footstep. Frustration ate at him. He was going to gut them. Stem to stern. They had to be close. If they’d run, he would have heard them. He’d know. What kind of sick fuck did that, anyway? The crow’s dead stare played in his mind. It was eerily familiar. He’d seen it somewhere.

The damn poster. It was like the poster he’d seen stuck to the wall in Sophie’s room. The print in red and black, a sharply scribbled crayon design. Just the head. The beak. The eyes. The stare. The one he’d ripped to find the drugs. Fuck!

‘You’re dead, you’re so fucking dead!’

He stormed through the long grass, checking every dark corner, behind every tree.

Maybe Bobby hadn’t lost it. At least, not to begin with. Maybe whoever this dipshit was had fucked around with him, too. Like he’d said. Was this just the start? More anger, more rage increased his pace, his temper, enough of the drug still pumping in his system to spur him on, make him invincible.

Another few minutes of fruitless searching and his patience ran out. ‘Where are you!’ he shouted. ‘You fucking coward! Where the fuck are you!’

A sound behind him had him spinning again, shard of glass raised.

‘The fuck, bro!’ Eddie shouted.

Dino dropped his arm. ‘Sorry—there’s someone out here. Messed with my room.’

‘What?’

‘I’ll fucking show you.’ He led him back inside. ‘There.’

Eddie studied the crow. ‘Looks like it’s broken its neck hitting the window.’

Dino took another look. The bird. It was different. Freshly dead. ‘What? But—’ The word was gone from the window. ‘Nah, I’m telling you, that thing was posed and rotten and there was writing on the glass! It said, “Die”!’

Eddie shook his head and scowled. ‘Don’t you fucking flip out on me too!’

‘I’m not fucking flipping out! I—’

She stood at the edge of the trees by the old wire fence. As still as death in a dirty white dress, matted brown hair covering most of her deathly white face, black hollow eyes and a chilling, malicious grin.

‘What the!’ He charged around Eddie to get a better look.

Eddie spun around. ‘What?’

But when Dino looked again, there was no one there. ‘Nothing. Just thought whoever it was might have come back. But it’s nothing.’

‘Good answer. Man, you stink. Have a shower and sleep on the lounge. We’ll clean this shit up tomorrow.’

‘Yeah.’

But long after Eddie left, Dino remained, staring into the night, the glass shard held tight in his palm.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thursday, October 12

Finn sat in the taskforce room with Olivia, sharing a quiet moment over coffee as the morning news covered their latest story. The room fell silent as a reporter appeared on the screen with a photo of Brookes in the background. One of the officers turned up the volume.

‘The headlines continue to buzz with the controversial case of Damon Vaughn and his seemingly twisted game of catch me if you can. Vaughn made startling revelations on social media yesterday with claims that charges against him relating to paedophilia had been fabricated by police, setting him on a quest to prove a failure within the justice system. With Vaughn suggesting he believes the public won’t judge him too harshly over the deaths of any of the victims in his game, this incident has stirred debates across the community.’

‘Yes, Libby,’ another reporter replied. ‘This game has raised much discussion over vigilantism. While online, public interest has been piqued and debate rages, the police stress that resorting to violence, regardless of a victim’s identity, undermines the legal system and basic human rights.’

‘Thanks, Mark. This remains a developing story, and we’ll stay across it with further updates as this situation evolves.’

‘Could have been a worse start,’ Finn said as the TV went back to mute.

‘Protector versus predator. I think this wins the award for most dramatic headline this morning,’ Olivia said. The newspaper spread out in front of her featured Lexi and Vaughn portrayed as boxers gearing up for a title match. ‘Vaughn will love it.’

Finn’s brow furrowed. ‘Since when do we care about what Vaughn loves or doesn’t love?’

She shrugged. ‘Since Lexi agreed to play this game with him, I suppose we have to.’

His coffee cup landed on the table with a solid thump. ‘What else was she supposed to do? Play the game for a shot at bringing him in, or sit back while he continues to prey on children until one day he shows up out of the blue and takes her out?’

‘Wow. Touchy.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ Yet again this morning, Olivia had rejected a phone call in front of him with some lame excuse and it was playing on his mind. ‘Hey, I was thinking we could have a quiet night at my place tomorrow night?’ It was time to tackle whatever it was that was going on with her.

‘You know what? We’re busy with this case and we’re going out Saturday, so maybe let’s give tomorrow night a miss?’

‘Okay, then, sure.’ He heard the disappointment in his voice and cringed, but he really wanted to get this cleared up.

‘You don’t mind?’

‘No, of course not. We always make time on Friday nights, that’s all.’

She frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘You … seem a little distracted lately.’

‘Sorry. It’s not intentional.’ She smiled at him. ‘This is why we agreed to this sort of relationship, right? Given the trajectory of our careers, we’re not suited to any sort of traditional deal right now. I thought you felt the same way?’

He did, to an extent. Having someone in his life minus the pressure of having to be home at set times for set things, having an exclusive relationship without constantly having to explain unexpected absences, without the guilt of having to cancel plans last minute on a regular basis, without the worry of letting a significant other down time after time because of the job was close to a perfect fit for him. For both of them. But he still expected honesty. And hadn’t she just asked if he’d consider moving away with her? Surely that meant she was looking for something more solid.

‘If that’s all it is …’

She smiled again. ‘That’s all it is.’

‘Okay, but—’

‘Rachael’s here,’ she said, folding her paper and straightening in her seat.

Rachael held up a copy of the same newspaper and gestured to the room. ‘We’re off to a strong start. The story’s details have made it into nearly every publication this morning and even received prime airtime last night. We’ve been inundated with requests from journalists eager for more information on Vaughn, and Detective Brighton has been working on some information which will form the basis for each press conference. Olivia?’

‘Yes, thank you, inspector. I was thinking I’d start with Vaughn’s background for the next conference, leading into a psychological profile. Following that, we can delve into the various crimes he’s committed and why, along with explanations for his behaviours. Additionally, we can provide case updates in further releases in light of our discussions on creating multiple content segments to keep the media engaged.’

‘Excellent.’

An officer interrupted and spoke quietly to Rachael. She paused, then looked up. ‘Finn, Brookes’s mother has called, asking if she can speak to someone on the task force today. Could you and Olivia handle it?’

‘Of course. What time?’

‘She’s coming in after her shift, around four.’ Then to Olivia, she said, ‘Ready?’

* * *

Olivia was a natural in front of an audience. Finn sat back, knowing she’d have no hiccups, make no mistakes. No one would question her authority. She was just that good.

‘Born into a wealthy home in 1974,’ she began, ‘Vaughn’s early life was marked by material comfort but devoid of emotional warmth, his mother having passed shortly after his birth and his father being a largely absent businessman. There is speculation he was mistreated by his au pair; however these suggestions have never been substantiated. Educators throughout his formative years recognised his intellectual capacity but noted a distinct absence of empathy. His behaviour manifested as disturbing traits from a young age: deception, impulsive anger, cruelty to animals, bullying, vandalism and intimidation. Despite attempts at discipline, he showed no remorse for his actions, proving impervious to both punishment and reinforcement.

‘By age twelve, Vaughn’s escalating behaviours led to expulsion from multiple elite schools after which he began home schooling under the supervision of private tutors. At fifteen, his transgressions escalated from minor offences to more serious criminal acts, including robbery and experimentation with drugs, and at the age of sixteen, a culmination of tensions led Vaughn to sever ties with his father and leave home. Conventional employment held little appeal for him, and an aversion to authority figures hindered his ability to sustain steady work. This pushed him onto the streets, where he inevitably gravitated towards a high-risk demographic. As an emotionally charged and aggressive young man, he caught the attention of Raymond Hamill, the head of a crime family deeply entrenched in drug manufacturing. Hamill provided Vaughn with a sense of belonging and purpose, effectively solidifying his place within this social sphere.’

Cass leant towards Finn and whispered, ‘Does she pull this stuff straight out of textbooks or does she actually come up with it herself?’

‘What?’

‘I mean, when you guys are not at work is she like “I need to take a shower and cook dinner”? Or is it more like, “Following a sequential order of tasks, I shall commence a brief hiatus to engage in a cleansing ritual, before proceeding to orchestrate the culinary preparation of—”’

‘Cass,’ he cut in, biting the inside of his cheek against a smile.

‘Yeah?’

‘Shut up.’

‘At this point,’ Olivia continued, ‘Vaughn’s descent into criminality took a deeply troubling turn. Joining the Hamills’ criminal circle escalated his violent tendencies. He became a standover man and found a disturbing sense of satisfaction and self-worth in this role, where he pursued the thrill of taking lives with increasing intensity. His evolving pattern suggested a growing need for excitement and a concerning desensitisation to the consequences of his actions. What’s more unsettling is the change in Vaughn’s motivation. His aim shifted from just killing to inflicting psychological dominance over his victims.

‘In 2004, Vaughn was finally apprehended and received a lengthy sentence. During his extended incarceration from 2004 to 2019, Vaughn forged an alliance with Thomas Biddle, known as the Spider, a notorious child predator. Vaughn agreed to assume the Spider’s identity to secure Biddle’s freedom, obtaining Biddle’s fortune in return. After their scheme was thwarted, Vaughn fled abroad to continue his criminal exploits, including involvement in child pornography and acts of violence.

‘Which brings us to current events. Recently, Vaughn resurfaced, contacting the police with the intention of seeking revenge against Constable Lexi Winter. He perceives Constable Winter’s role in solving the Spider case as a personal slight to his ego, prompting the mobilisation of this task force for his capture.’

Rachael moved back to the microphone. ‘Thank you for that insight into Damon Vaughn’s history, Detective Brighton. Do we have any questions on that?’

‘Where is Constable Winter today?’

‘Constable Winter would have liked to have been here. Unfortunately, she’s been held up on a lead and sends her apologies.’

‘Isn’t part of her role in this game to keep the media informed?’

‘That will generally be possible, but not on this occasion.’

‘How does Constable Winter feel about being targeted by Damon Vaughn?’

‘Constable Winter is not available to answer questions today so I suggest you hold them for another time.’

‘Is there any truth to Vaughn’s statement that he was a patsy in the Spider investigation?’

‘Absolutely not. Vaughn is a master manipulator and a liar. He’s fabricated a story in order to gain public sympathy from an audience he believes is intellectually inferior and easily manipulable. He is an opportunistic criminal without a conscience. And yes, we have evidence. The majority of that evidence is so horrific, his actions so depraved, it can’t be freely distributed. But there’s some that can and, in his own words, do your research. Use your heads. Don’t be the fools he takes you all for.’

‘What do think about the fact his social media following is in the thousands in just a matter of days?’

‘I think it’s natural for the public to be curious and interested in a case such as this. I do, however, once again strongly urge—’ An officer approached Rachael and she placed her hand over the mic and leant across to listen. ‘Apologies, everyone, that’s all we have time for this morning. Thank you.’

She strode away from the podium at a clip, Olivia on her heels.

Finn caught up as they left the room. ‘What’s going on?’

‘We’ve just had an alert on a homicide: the crown prosecutor who helped put Vaughn behind bars. I think it’s worth checking out.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Okay, change of plan. Finn, get out to that homicide, let me know if it looks like Vaughn. If it does, we’ll step in. Olivia, you stay here in case he’s not back in time to speak to Mrs Brookes.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I enter Goulburn Correctional Centre and feel immediately claustrophobic. The tall stone walls, guard towers, maze of cell blocks, exercise yards and office buildings make for uneasy breathing room. Everything is designed for tight control and surveillance. I know there are different parts of the prison, each holding inmates of different risk levels, but it’s best known for supermax, for the high-risk inmates, and every detail is constructed to keep everyone safe. The whole mood of the place is heavy and tense.

‘Why is this guy here?’ I ask Linc. ‘He’s not a hardened criminal. He should be in a low-security complex, surely?’

‘He murdered his father.’

‘Accidentally.’

‘So he says.’

‘He got manslaughter, not first-degree murder. He was standing up for his mother.’

‘Manslaughter is a serious offence. Medium security at best.’

I know he’s right. But. ‘He’s barely twenty, no criminal history, there’s extenuating circumstances … What’s being held in a place like this going to do to him? How do you think that’s going to turn out? Do you honestly think he won’t come out worse than he went in?’

Linc’s expression is flat. ‘No. You ready? Let’s get this done.’

A few minutes later, I’m sitting across from Rodney Brookes. The room is plain and cold and his body is hunched, like he’s trying to make himself warm, or smaller. I’d want to disappear too. He looks like a scared kid, despite his stony expression.

He glances around the room, avoiding my eyes. His hands are on the table, but they can’t stay still. They fidget, tapping nervously.

Linc begins talking, calm but serious. ‘Rodney, we need to talk about what happened with your dad.’

‘I just wanted him to stop hurting Mum,’ he says quietly.

I lean in, resting my arms on the desk. ‘I understand. Nobody wants to see their mum getting hurt. Can you tell us what happened?’

Rodney’s hands are clenched tight. He takes a deep breath. ‘He should have been locked up, he shouldn’t have been able to keep getting away with it! But the cops had been round before. He’d been arrested before, taken away to cool down. He just … blamed his PTSD, said sorry and kept getting away with it. It was a joke!’

‘Sounds like it to me,’ I mutter.

Something fires in his eyes at my comment. ‘I go over there and he’s drunk as usual, being obnoxious to Mum. I told him to shut up, that he wasn’t going to get away with it anymore. He got in my face so I hit him. Just one angry whack.’ He closes his fist in memory. ‘He came at me fists flying all over the place, said he was going to kill me. I got him in a choke hold. I only wanted to restrain him. To stop him hitting me. But I held on too long.’

I keep my face calm, but inside, I’m fuming at how unfair it all is. His dad causes so much trouble with his violence, and now the kid’s life is messed up trying to stop it. ‘You were just trying to look after your mum.’

‘That bastard beat her for years and never spent a day in prison and now I have to spend years in this place for stopping it!’ His voice breaks and he sucks in several quick, controlling breaths.

I feel my anger spike. ‘Why now, Rodney? If this had been going on for years, why did you choose now to do something about it?’

‘I’d had enough. He was a prick one too many times, you know?’

‘So this was something you did on the spur of the moment.’

‘Right.’

‘No one influenced your actions?’

‘Only my father.’

‘Rodney,’ Linc cuts in, ‘do you know Damon Vaughn?’ He shows him a picture of Vaughn.

Rodney glances at it. ‘I’ve never seen him before.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘He’s claiming to be responsible for your dad’s death.’

‘It’s Dad’s fault he’s dead!’ Rodney frowns at the table in … consideration? Or with new nerves?

‘Are you sure you’re telling us everything?’ I ask.

His finger begins distractedly tracing a pattern on the desk as he continues to frown into space. His head is shaking from side to side. ‘Nah. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You’re absolutely not covering for anyone else?’ Linc pushes.

Rodney laughs bitterly and looks at us. ‘I wish! I killed my dad, detective. If someone else had done it, I wouldn’t be sitting here for them. All I want to do is get out.’

Linc glances at me and I shrug. I don’t think we’re going to get anything else from him.

‘Okay, Rodney. Thank you. We appreciate you talking to us,’ Linc says.

As he’s led away, he mutters, ‘The justice system’s a joke.’

‘I don’t know whether he was hiding something or scrambling for some way for Vaughn to be right,’ Linc says as we walk out. ‘And what was the thing he was doing with his hand? Tracing something on the table?’

‘I have no idea what he was doing with his hand but I want that kid’s phone and computer.’

‘That shouldn’t be a problem. Am I missing something?’

‘Rodney Brookes doesn’t have a violent bone in his body! Someone put him up to this.’

‘Sometimes people snap.’

‘Vaughn is behind this. He said as much. I just need to figure out how.’

When we get back to the car, I check my phone. Sigh. ‘I knew Julian would be trouble. Cait’s put a picture of him on her group chat and she’s just sent me a screenshot of some of the comments.’

Linc chuckles. ‘Teenage girls.’

‘She’s gaining some serious credibility being driven around by the guy.’ My phone rings. ‘Hello, Rachael.’

‘How did it go?’

‘That kid is anything but a hardened criminal. He wasn’t all that chatty but he claims not to know Vaughn.’

‘Rodney’s mother found out you were talking to him this morning and is coming in to talk to us. She said what he did was completely out of character and she wants to plead his case.’

‘Ask her if he spent much time online and if so, where and with who. She probably won’t know, but stranger things have happened. We’ve got to be able to link this to Vaughn somehow. And despite Rodney saying otherwise, I’d bet just about anything they’ve been talking online.’

‘Will do.’

‘And if she could bring his devices in, I’ll go through them.’

‘I’ll call her now. Hold on.’ The phone is muffled but I can hear murmuring as I wait. ‘Are you on your way back?’

‘Just getting onto the Hume Highway out of Goulburn. Why?’

‘We received a report of a murder earlier this morning, a crown prosecutor by the name of Thomas Waverley.’

‘And?’ Linc asks.

‘He was the prosecutor in Vaughn’s trial. From what Finn’s just told me, I think you should show your face out there.’

‘Yeah, of course. Send us the details.’

‘On the way. I’ll get Julian out there too.’

‘Isn’t he supposed to pick up Cait?’

‘Uniforms can handle that. If this is Vaughn’s doing, he’ll likely have eyes on the proceedings. Be careful.’

I end the call with a frustrated sigh. ‘She’s being so over-protective.’

‘She has to be. You’re investigating a case you’re a target in. If anything happens to you, she’s in serious trouble.’

‘If I don’t play, Vaughn won’t play.’

‘And that’s the dilemma. Ah, shit.’ He slows the car and brings it to a stop. The traffic is at a standstill. ‘Must be the roadworks.’

It’s not long before the sun’s intensity through the windscreen is uncomfortable despite the air conditioning’s attempts to cool things. I lower the window, but the outside air smells like hot asphalt and exhaust fumes. There’s a distant hum of a radio. A car horn blares.

My fingers drum absently on the door handle, my patience wearing thin. I glance at Linc, his expression a mix of resignation and mild irritation. I take a look around. Fields of dry grass, eucalyptus trees, a few cars parked in what might be a roadside rest area not too far ahead. I pull the water bottle I forgot to fill out of my bag and wonder if there’s a working tap over there.

‘Do you reckon if I get out and walk to where those cars are parked, traffic will magically clear and you’ll need to move?’

‘I don’t know, but I’m willing to give it a go. Out you get.’

‘Funny!’

He chuckles. ‘You need a pitstop already?’

‘No. I need water.’

‘Ah. I have some. In the footwell behind you?’

I twist in my seat, shove my overnight bag out of the way and check, do the same on Linc’s side. ‘Nup.’

‘Then it must be in the boot. Want me to check?’

‘Pop it. I’ll look.’ I get out and lift the boot when I hear the click. I stare for a minute, snatch two of the waters from the Coles pack, walk back, lean in the car door and hand him one. ‘You didn’t win that big stuffed bear on that hoop game last night.’

‘Rub it in, why don’t you? Maybe I will drive off without you.’

‘So you didn’t sneak back, try again?’

He drops his sunglasses to look me in the eyes. ‘Lexi, beautiful, you are the light of my life. Would I stand beside you in a fight? Yes. Would I protect your life with my own? Absolutely. Would I leave a five-star motel at midnight to drive back to a carnival after a long day to attempt to win a Styrofoam-stuffed pink bear in a rigged game as everything was closing? That’s a stretch.’

My eyes have wandered skyward by this stage but I return them to his. ‘But did you?’

‘If I’d known it meant so much to you, I would have stolen it at gunpoint. Truly. In fact, let’s turn around—’

‘So is that what you did?’ I hear the tension climb in my voice as I realise that no, he hadn’t.

Linc hears it too and his teasing eyes turn sharp. ‘No. I didn’t win the bear.’

‘Then how did it get in the boot?’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘Nasty,’ Julian said to Finn from the doorway.

Finn surveyed the room with a practised gaze. The body was sprawled on the kitchen floor, the victim’s staring eyes pointed towards the entrance, one arm outstretched as though reaching for freedom in death. ‘POI’s obviously come in through the window,’ he remarked, noting some of the shattered glass in the sink contained blood. Hopefully the POI’s.

Julian, still keeping a respectful distance, stepped into the room. ‘What do you think? Any chance this was simply a break-in gone wrong?’

Finn knelt beside the lifeless body, his gloved hands careful not to disturb the scene. He examined the pattern of wounds, the frenzy with which the knife had struck the chest, the jagged severing of the carotid artery. He compared them in his memory with those of Vaughn’s last victim. This one was horrific enough, but it didn’t possess the same level of calculated, methodical brutality.

He rose from his crouched position, eyes still on the body. ‘The degree of violence suggests personal, but we can’t be sure yet. Either way, I doubt this was Vaughn.’

Finn’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, scanning the message. ‘Lexi and Linc have been delayed.’

They headed outside and Finn glanced around. Beyond the forensics and police vehicles, the media had started to arrive. Spectators further blocked his view of the street and surrounds beyond. Where are you? He scanned each face carefully. If Vaughn was behind this, he’d want to be here, would want to see the fuss he had created. ‘Let’s clear enough room for Linc to park within the cordoned-off area. I don’t want Lexi having to walk through the crowd.’

‘Good idea,’ Julian said. ‘I’ll get that sorted.’

* * *

It was close to an hour before Lexi and Linc arrived. They signed themselves into the scene with grim faces, ignoring the flash of cameras and shouted questions. Apparently the honeymoon hotel hadn’t been great. Or maybe it had been too great and hangovers were to blame. No, he decided. Something had her rattled. His concern grew as she got closer.

‘Hey.’

Lexi smiled through tight lips and nodded, but didn’t stop. ‘Body inside?’

‘Kitchen.’ Finn snatched at Linc’s arm when he would have followed Lexi. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Later,’ Linc said.

‘Now.’

Linc’s brow shot up. ‘Long story, let’s just get this done. She’s fine.’

Julian was waiting at the door as Lexi donned gloves and shoe covers. Finn caught up as she walked into the kitchen to check out the body.

‘So what do you think?’ he asked her.

‘It’s not Vaughn’s work,’ she said, ‘but neither was Brookes. So I think we need to find out who killed this man and why, because Vaughn could still be behind it.’

‘It’s a knife attack on someone linked to Vaughn. Someone he would have had a beef with. Why not him?’ Finn asked.

‘For a start, this killer is left-handed. Vaughn’s not. The wound to the neck suggests the attacker has come up behind our vic, grabbed him around the throat with his dominant—left—arm and pressed the knife to the right side of his neck. He’s cut down through the carotid artery, but it’s not deep and didn’t end him, so he’s stabbed what looks like random, desperate wounds in an attempt to finish him off. The lack of depth to this throat cut tells me our guy might have been having trouble holding our vic or had a problem with what he was about to do. He could be weak or had second thoughts. Vaughn wouldn’t fit either of those categories.’

‘Well done,’ Finn said.

‘I—What’s that?’ she asked, squinting, as reflected light passed over her face. The pantry burst open, the knife that had caused the reflection coming out ahead of the dishevelled man holding it. The blade was at Lexi’s throat in a second.

Finn’s heart dropped into his stomach as he reached for his gun. In his peripheral vision, he saw Julian step as though to move around behind Lexi’s attacker, but in that same instant, Lexi’s face turned from shock to purpose. She grabbed the man’s wrist in both hands, somehow twisted then rotated under his arm and got his wrist up behind his back. The force with which she wrenched his arm up had the man screaming. He dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. She kicked it away. Julian took over, roughly slamming the attacker into the counter and cuffing him.

Finn holstered his gun and checked Lexi over as the uniformed police from outside rushed in. ‘It wasn’t Vaughn,’ she whispered unsteadily. ‘I wasn’t sure.’

‘Sit down for a sec, you’re shaking.’

‘Just adrenaline.’

‘If that move had gone wrong he could have—’

‘Trick is to gain leverage with the shoulder. Keep it high.’

‘Where’d you learn that?’ Julian asked, grinning like an idiot.

‘Bikie gang fight trainer.’

‘Sounds fascinating.’

‘I hate him. But.’ She rolled her shoulder. ‘It actually worked. Ha. I’ll have to let Rodger know.’

‘My arm, my arm! It’s broke!’

‘I doubt it,’ Linc said with a scowl. Then to Finn, he said, ‘I’ll get him in a car.’

Lexi stood, snarling at the back of her attacker as he was led away. ‘I’m sitting in on the interrogation.’

‘Sitting in?’ Finn said. ‘How about you lead it?’ He saw the first hint of a smile since she’d arrived—goal achieved—and as they stepped out of the house, he drew her aside. ‘You ready to tell me what was up when you got here?’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, okay. I’ll show you.’

He followed her over to where Linc was talking to uniformed officers. She interrupted. Linc removed his car keys from his pocket and pressed a button, unlocking the car. Sent Finn a cool stare.

‘It’s a teddy bear,’ Finn said a moment later.

‘Yep. Meet Finn. Linc decided he could win me one on a carnival game.’

‘Why is it named Finn?’

‘You told Linc I called you that.’

‘I’m missing something. You can’t possibly be this upset about me sharing that information.’

‘We were at the carnival and he made a show of trying to win me the damn bear, but he reckons the balls were bigger than the warped hoops—truth or male ego-saving stuff, who knows? But he didn’t win it.’

‘So where did it come from?’

‘It materialised in the boot of the car overnight.’

Anxiety washed over him. ‘Someone watched Linc trying to win you the bear, got their hands on it and got it into the boot of the car without your knowledge?’

‘Yeah. Who’d do that?’

‘Why do you still have it?’

‘Rachael said to turn it over to forensics when we got here.’

He scanned the street, guided her back to his car and opened the back door. ‘Get in the car. Julian!’

Julian jogged over, alerted by Finn’s behaviour. ‘What is it?’

‘There’s a strong chance Vaughn followed Lexi to Goulburn.’

‘So there’s an even better chance he followed her back.’ Julian slid in beside Lexi. Finn shut the door as Linc came over.

‘You knew what Vaughn was up to and you brought her out here? Let her just stroll around?’

Linc’s jaw tensed. ‘Well, at least we’ve moved on from “what the hell did you do to put that look on her face”.’

‘What? Don’t be stupid. He could be here.’

‘He could be anywhere, any time. Is there a good chance he’s watching this unfold? Sure. But he wants her in play. That’s why Rachael decided that Lexi should turn up after we filled her in on the way up here. Be active in the investigation, as per the game. He’s more likely to take her out early if it’s not going his way. Lexi knew you’d freak, which is why she wanted to hand the bear over and tell you after.’

‘Great. Thanks for that. Are you coming?’

‘I’ve got my own car,’ Linc said, equally annoyed, and strode back to it. ‘And I have to turn the bear over to forensics.’

Finn moved around to the driver’s door.

‘Finn,’ Linc called.

‘What?’

‘You’re not the only one who can keep her safe.’

Finn forced a breath in and out. Nodded. ‘I know. Sorry. But also, you named a pink teddy after me.’

Linc’s grin stretched. ‘I guess we’re even then. See you back there.’ He closed the boot, then hurtled backwards as the car exploded.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

‘After our last case, I was kind of hoping I was done with explosives,’ Lexi said, sitting beside Linc as the last of the tape was secured to the cut behind his ear.

‘At least this one wasn’t C4,’ Linc said, and thanked the medic.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Finn asked.

He stood up and moved around. ‘Yeah. Just glad I didn’t have my head in the boot when the damn bear blew up.’

‘So are we,’ Lexi said.

‘The media have some great footage,’ Linc said. ‘Vaughn’s going to enjoy tonight’s news.’

‘Do you think he activated it himself? If he’d detonated it when Lexi and Linc had been driving, it could have been worse,’ Julian said.

‘Maybe it was on a timer. Or he’s just having some fun with us.’

‘He wanted me to know the bear was in the boot before he blew it,’ Lexi said. ‘To let me know he was watching in Goulburn, at the carnival. He blew it here to let me know he was at the murder scene, when the media were around to give him the most exposure. It’s a message: I can get you at any time. He wants me scared. I’m not. I’m glad he’s close. The closer he is, the easier he’ll be to find.’

‘Perhaps,’ Finn said. ‘We’ll know more once the remnants of the device have been analysed. Right now, I think we should get back to the station.’

‘I’ll travel back with Lexi’s new friend from the pantry,’ Linc said. ‘Settle him in. See you there.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to head home?’

‘Nah. I’m fine. I live for this stuff.’

Linc was joking, but Finn didn’t find any of this funny. They’d only just gotten underway and there’d been too many close calls already.

He should have insisted on going with Lexi yesterday, Finn thought as he drove Julian and Lexi back to the station. He would have done things properly. What was with that accommodation stunt Linc had pulled, anyway? There had to have been something else he could have booked. And taking Lexi to a carnival? Totally unprofessional. Unsafe. And Lexi had gone along with it. She more than anyone knew how dangerous a situation she was in. It annoyed him when Olivia picked at Lexi’s behaviour but she wasn’t entirely wrong about the unnecessary risk taking. She’d given him a whole psychological breakdown during the last case, after it had looked like Lexi had gone off the rails. Mentioned possible trauma effects and maladaptive coping mechanisms and impacts of self-worth and identity on adults with her sorts of childhood experiences, but damn it, Lexi was a smart, successful woman capable of just about anything. It was so frustrating.

‘Did Cait get off on her excursion okay?’ Lexi asked Julian as they sat in the back seat.

‘Yep. I bet her little field trip is more fun than ours just was.’

‘You want a nice one to end the day? I have this friend Tom, who owns a bar. You can follow me down after work.’

Finn’s temper spiked. ‘You know, I think Olivia might be right,’ he muttered.

‘Oh, please,’ Lexi said after a tense silence. ‘Continue.’

As soon as the words were out he regretted them, but now they were, he didn’t seem to be able to contain the rest of them. ‘Right in that you don’t stop to think about the danger you put yourself and others in.’

‘Tom’s bar is dangerous?’

‘Probably not as dangerous as a carnival.’

‘Oh, okay. Sure,’ she said lightly, ‘I guess we could have stayed in and enjoyed the benefits of the motel. Did you see the size of that rose-petal–covered bed? And the candle-lit spa bath was hu—’

The car jerked to a stop at the traffic lights and Finn’s eyes hit Lexi’s hard in the mirror. ‘What are you doing?’

She shrugged. ‘Contemplating alternatives.’

The lights changed and the car lurched forward, his knuckles white on the wheel. ‘One mistake and you’re dead. You know that, right? Vaughn said he’s looking forward to getting you alone if you live that long! For all you know, taking you out in some sadistic performance mid-game is the game.’

‘So I die in a circus tent, not a bubble bath. Does it make a difference?’

‘He followed you around a carnival, was right outside your hotel. He got that bear into your car. He was that close and neither of you even had a clue!’ Didn’t she get it? ‘We’re supposed to be keeping you alive!’

‘Then maybe you’d consider keeping your eyes on the road?’ she countered as he took the turn into the next street too tightly.

‘You’re not going to make it through this case if you’re not more careful!’

‘And you’re not going to make it through the day if you don’t calm down! I was two feet away from you at the murder scene and a lunatic got a knife to my throat. And no matter what you believe, Vaughn was right outside when he blew up the car at the crime scene for the media’s benefit and again, you never had a clue. This is not Linc’s fault! Not my fault! What is wrong with you?’

Because he wasn’t entirely sure himself, he focused on the road, driving in silence.

* * *

‘We had how many officers in that building and someone still got to Lexi?’ Rachael said. ‘Did no one clear the scene?’

‘I assumed the officers on site would have done that before we got there,’ Finn said.

‘Finn, really?’

He nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. ‘It wasn’t good enough.’

‘And you.’ She turned to Julian, her voice sharp. ‘Your one responsibility is to keep Lexi alive!’

‘I would have,’ Julian replied, a small smile quirking his lips, ‘if she’d given me half a second to react before going into Bruce Lee mode.’

Rachael turned to Lexi, who shrugged.

‘It was a simple move I learnt training with Zander’s coach.’

‘You’re still doing that?’

‘Not as much as I should, but yeah.’

‘Good, keep it up. It might be the only thing that stops you from dying!’ Her glare returned to Finn and Julian. ‘Our suspect is being assessed by doctors and talking to his lawyer. I doubt we’ll have access to him until tomorrow, so get out of my sight! Lexi, stay put.’

Finn went back to the taskforce room and picked up the coffee he’d made while waiting to be yelled at by Rachael. The news, constantly running on mute on a small screen in the corner of the room, showed Linc’s car explosion. He strode over, turned on the volume and listened to the reporter’s dramatic recreation of the events.

‘I think she was right, you know,’ Julian said, joining him. ‘I think Vaughn blew the car there and then for show.’

‘Yeah. She was right about a few things.’ And he’d been kicking himself about it since they got back.

‘It was a stressful afternoon. It’s not easy knowing someone you care about is at so much risk.’

‘No. It’s not.’

Julian checked his watch. ‘I hope Rachael and Lexi don’t take too long, I have to go get Cait.’

‘Shouldn’t someone have already done that?’ he asked.

‘Tutoring afternoon.’

‘Right.’ His phone pinged with a message. Ava. He set his coffee down to reply and Lexi breezed past and swiped it. ‘Hey!’ he protested. As she slid behind her desk, she shot him a wink that told him he’d been forgiven.

Julian smirked. ‘You’re a lucky guy, though.’

‘Huh?’

‘She’s pretty amazing.’

‘Well, yeah, but we’re not together.’

Julian’s face went genuinely blank. ‘What? But—Really?’

‘Really.’

Julian stared at the floor, his brow furrowed, before looking back up. ‘She doesn’t steal my coffee.’

‘It’s just a thing. Started out as a joke.’

‘Hmm.’ Another moment of puzzled silence, then, ‘What about that comment she made in the car about the big bed and considering alternatives?’

‘Staying in the hotel versus going to the carnival.’

‘You nearly sent us through the windscreen for that? Not buying it.’

Finn let out a resigned sigh. ‘Hey, Lex,’ he called. ‘Want to go on a date?’

Her head snapped up, eyes scanning the few people still in the room, before darting between Finn and Julian. ‘Don’t date, sorry!’ she called back.

‘Happy?’ Finn said.

‘And it hasn’t occurred to you to try and change her mind?’

‘And have every coffee stolen? I’m seeing someone. Go get Cait. I’ll drop Lexi home when she’s ready and come back.’

‘For?’

‘Olivia and Cass are still in with Mrs Brooks. I want to know how they get on.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Friday, October 13

‘Well, we made it in time,’ I tell Cait. ‘By some miracle.’

‘My hair wouldn’t cooperate.’

‘It’s a funeral not a fashion show.’

‘If I’d walked in the way I looked earlier, it would have been my funeral!’

Julian locks the car and we walk up the drive to the chapel.

‘Hey, there you are,’ Linc says. He’s standing with Harry, Merv and a woman I haven’t met, who Linc introduces as Merv’s wife, Lynn, but as we’re late, there’s no time for general chit chat. We need to move.

Several dozen families are seated inside and others stand outside, looking through the glass walls to the tribute to Bobby. The casket, draped in the footy club’s team flag, is standing at the centre, trophies surrounding it. A large screen displays a slideshow of Bobby’s best moments on the field. As we find a seat outside the chapel, a priest approaches a podium decorated in the team’s colours and everyone’s voices hush.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today with heavy hearts, bound by a shared sense of grief and loss, to bid farewell to Bobby, a cherished son, brother and friend.’

At the front, I see Jim, a woman who looks too much like Bobby not to be his mother, and a younger boy, I’m guessing his brother Jacob, eyes red with tears. I recognise Eddie, Stewie and Dino and a couple of Cait’s friends. Lizzy catches my eye and sends me a tiny wave. I return it.

‘Bobby was a young man who possessed a rare combination of passion, dedication and a spirit that was infectious to everyone. On the field, he was a force to be reckoned with, displaying a talent and love for the game. We will hear now from some of Bobby’s friends and family.’

I listen to a few of his mates say some words, then Jim gets up and shares a few footy stories. He’s a much better version of himself today, though he doesn’t miss a dig at the footy rep selectors. I’m sure Bobby did other things in life other than play football, but we don’t hear about that. I tune out, watch the people. I hate funerals, but I wanted to be here to make sure there was no more trouble. I needn’t have worried. All I see today is a broken, grieving father.

‘As we say our final goodbyes to Bobby, let us hold onto the lessons he leaves behind—to cherish our loved ones and to support those in need. Let us honour his memory by being vigilant in our care for one another, by reaching out to those who may be struggling, and by fostering a world where no one feels they have to face their demons alone. Rest in peace, Bobby. Your light will forever shine in our hearts.’

Being a cop means you so often only see the ugly side. But Bobby was just a kid, really. Maybe a good one that made just one genuinely fucked-up decision that cost him everything.

As the chapel empties, people hover outside. I gather some will continue on to the cemetery. We hang around while the hearse leaves with the coffin and the immediate family follow.

‘I can’t believe they’re burying him out there. With her.’ I spot a younger boy standing beside the one I remember as Stewie, and the police sergeant, Jeff.

‘Shut up, you little turd!’ Stewie whispers and drags the boy away.

‘You shut up!’ the kid whispers back, earning a few disapproving stares. But everyone is moving off in different directions now, breaking into groups to chat or make their way back to the carpark.

Dino is standing nearby, tugging at his collar like he’s going to have a heart attack. His skin is pasty and a fine sheen of perspiration covers his face.

‘Jacob was making that shit up, right?’ he says to Stewie’s brother. I search my memory for the kid’s name …

Aaron. He was with Bobby’s brother Jacob when he found the body.

Aaron looks Dino up and down and takes a step back, like he might catch the plague. ‘He wasn’t making nothing up. He was shit scared. Ask him!’

‘I can’t get near him! Jim won’t let him talk to anyone.’ Dino bends down to Aaron’s height. ‘Tell me what he said. Exactly!’

Aaron takes another step back. ‘I don’t remember exactly!’

‘Where are you going?’ Dino makes a grab for Aaron and Jeff turns, sees what’s going on.

‘Hey! Dino. What’s up?’

‘I want to know what Jacob said! You know. What did he say?’

‘He was confused. Upset. That’s all.’

‘But he was making that shit up! About seeing—’

‘Mate, he doesn’t know what he saw. Are you okay? You don’t look well.’

‘He does know!’ Aaron says. ‘He saw Jenny Dixon!’

‘No, he didn’t!’

‘Yeah, he did!’

‘You’re a liar!’

‘Am not!’

‘That’s enough!’ Jeff hisses.

Dino clutches at his hair, spins around and hurries towards his car. Fumbling with his car keys, he gets in and the engine roars to life. I watch as he speeds away with the sound of tyres spinning against asphalt.

‘Wonder what that was about,’ I mutter.

‘Everyone grieves differently,’ Linc says.

‘I don’t think that was grief,’ Julian says. ‘It looked a lot more like panic. Who’s Jenny Dixon?’

Linc shakes his head. ‘Jenny Dixon’s a ghost.’

* * *

The interview room feels cramped and carries the faint stench of sweat. As I sit across from the man I now know is Donald Thompson and his solicitor, I acknowledge my nerves but hope they don’t show—Rachael’s watching and I don’t want to stuff this up. Thompson looks a hell of a lot more nervous, fidgeting in his chair, his knuckles white against the cold metal of the table.

‘Mr Thompson,’ I begin, hoping my voice carries enough authority. ‘We’re here to talk about the murder of Douglas Waverley. Can you tell me what happened?’

Thompson’s eyes dart around the room. ‘No comment.’

‘I understand Mr Waverley put your brother away for fifteen years.’

Thompson jerks up in his seat. ‘For something he didn’t do! He never touched that woman!’

The solicitor leans close to Thompson and murmurs something in his ear. Thompson wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve and flops lower in his chair.

Leaning forward, I lock my gaze on him. ‘If someone I cared about was put away for a rape and murder they didn’t commit because of some fancy-talking prosecutor who valued a win over the truth, I’d be pretty pissed off, too. So you went to see him and …?’

‘My client never admitted to going to see him, constable.’

‘Mr Thompson, when you somehow materialised in the pantry—’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, constable!’

‘Oh, so we can stop wasting time now?’ I fire back. ‘Great. Mr Thompson, we know you broke into Mr Waverley’s house in the early hours of yesterday morning—and don’t bother,’ I shoot at the solicitor in expectation of the next objection, ‘we have enough evidence to prove that. What was your reason for doing so?’

‘No comment.’

‘Do you know what mine would be?’

Thompson meets my gaze, his trembling breathing stilled. ‘What?’

‘I’d want him to admit what he’d done. I don’t think I could sleep very well until I’d exposed the bastard.’

He swallows hard and when he speaks, his voice is small. ‘I … I wanted to confront him, make him admit what he did.’

‘And did he?’

Thompson’s eyes drop to the table, defeated. ‘No. He … he laughed in my face, said my brother got what he deserved.’

‘How does that make you feel?’

‘No comment.’

‘Nothing?’

‘My client has said no comment.’

‘Did you shrug your shoulders and have a laugh with him?’

‘How do you think I felt!’ he explodes. ‘I trusted the legal system to provide justice!’

‘That’s what it’s for.’

‘Is it? Waverley twisted the truth and painted my brother as a monster just so he could win a case!’ The man’s eyes whip to mine, spittle flying from his mouth. ‘And he’s not the only innocent man he’s done it to! Money talks, detective.’

I lean back, maintaining my composure. ‘I’m not defending what Waverley did, Mr Thompson. If that’s what happened. But we’re here to talk about what you did. What happened after he laughed at you?’

Thompson shifts uncomfortably in his chair, glancing around the room before finally meeting my gaze. ‘No comment.’

‘You want to blow your one chance to tell your side of the story before you’re charged?’

‘My client has said no comment!’

‘Okay, fine. Thanks for your time. Just one thing. I happen to know that during the court case, Mr Waverley made your client look like a fool on the stand. Under cross-examination he had Mr Thompson stuttering and back-tracking and looking quite silly. In fact, Mr Thompson has a bit of a history of anger issues. So I’m not convinced he’s avenging his brother. I think Mr Thompson was simply using the outcome of that trial as an excuse to pay back the guy who made him look stupid.’

‘That’s not true!’ Thompson objects.

‘Feel free to continue with your no comments. We have more than we need to charge you. You break the window, cut yourself climbing in, your blood is on the glass, the glass is in your shoes, your fingerprints are on the murder weapon, the victim’s blood is all over your clothing, we find you hiding on the scene, you pull the exact same move on me … Blah blah blah, what an idiot.’ My eyes bore into his. ‘And who’s going to feel sorry for you?’ I barrel on over his solicitor’s blustered objection. ‘Who’s going to think, “Poor Mr Thompson, he’s the victim, what kind of leniency can we show him?” You broke into that home with the sole intent of committing a violent murder, and when you got stuck hiding in the pantry you were prepared to kill a police officer without a second thought to escape. That sounds a lot like the work of a cold-blooded killer to me.

‘And when you go in front of a jury, you’re going to sound like a cold-blooded killer to them, too. Because I’m going to have to get up and testify, and that’s the version I’ll be going with. The one the prosecutor will go with. Because I have no reason at this point to feel any empathy for you, Mr Thompson, no reason to think your motives are driven by anything other than a made-up story and your own ego.’

‘Okay, fine! Yeah, he had me tripping over my words in court, yeah, he laughed at me. Just like he did when I confronted him at his house. But this was always about Brendan. About what he did to my brother! So I went there to do it! To kill him. I convinced myself I could! I confronted him, told him I was going to, but I couldn’t. That’s when he laughed at me.’

My eyes remain fixed on Thompson, my expression expectant. ‘So you went there to kill him, you couldn’t do it, he laughed at you and?’

‘He told me he was calling the cops. Told me I was as much of a loser as my brother. He admitted he’d framed him! And I—I lost it,’ he admits, his voice filled with a mixture of remorse and desperation. ‘I … snapped.’

‘Go on.’

‘It’s like I was watching it all happen to someone else. But I was that someone else. I grabbed him around the neck and he struggled and it just … happened. The knife just … sliced …’ Thompson’s voice trails off then he continues, ‘He grabbed his neck where the blood was running out and went for his phone. I …’ He makes a stabbing motion with his hand, as though relaying the events in his head.

‘I need you to say it, Mr Thompson. What did you do when he reached for his phone?’

‘I stabbed him, and stabbed him, and stabbed him, and stabbed—’ He breaks down. ‘I heard the front door open and his wife call out so I got into the pantry and sat. I couldn’t make myself feel anything. I watched the wife come in. She was screaming and some other people came in and then the cops were there and … I just sat there. Numb. Then I wasn’t. I panicked. I didn’t plan to kill you! I just wanted to get away!’

‘Lexi?’ Rachael prompts when I take a moment.

‘Thank you for being honest, Mr Thompson,’ I say, my voice softer now. ‘Just a couple more questions, all right?’

Sobbing, he nods into his hands.

‘Did anyone put you up to this?’

His head is still in his hands, then he shakes it.

‘You didn’t speak to anyone about what you were going to do?’

‘No.’

‘Have you ever had any contact with a man by the name of Damon Vaughn?’

He looks up then, panicky. ‘The man on the news? No. Why? Honestly, I’d decided not to kill him but I just snapped!’

‘I believe you, Mr Thompson.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Good. Thank you. Okay.’ He sniffs, looks up. ‘Constable, what happened to my brother—would you be more inclined to call it justice or joke?’

‘I have no idea. I’m sorry. I’m not privy to the case.’

‘He doesn’t deserve to be there!’ Thompson turns to his solicitor and keeps babbling.

‘Interview concluded at …’ I finish up and follow Rachael out of the interview room and into the lift.

She beams at me. ‘That was fantastic! What a first interview!’

‘Thanks,’ I say, relieved. ‘It was all your technique.’

Her eyes sparkle with humour. ‘I know.’

We walk out of the lift and she gestures for me to follow her into her office. I take a seat.

‘That man is clearly unstable. When he was relaying how he killed Waverley, well, let’s just say I’m glad you had those lessons with Rodger.’

‘I’m sure Finn and Linc would have gotten me out of it,’ I say.

Rachael presses her fingers to her forehead. ‘It could have been Vaughn. If it had been, he wouldn’t have hesitated, that knife would have cut you in half. They have to do better.’

‘He can’t play games with me if I’m dead. You said yourself he’s going to want to draw this out for all the attention he can get.’

‘There is that.’ She sinks into her seat and some of the tension seems to ebb out of her, but when her gaze hits mine, it’s probing. ‘The circumstances around the murder, Thompson’s break from reality, it struck a chord.’

My gaze drops to the desk. ‘The dissociation. Yeah.’

‘And?’ she prompts gently. ‘I can’t even imagine.’

She seems content to wait in silence for as long as I’m prepared to sit in it. The woman knows what she’s doing.

‘It’s like being inside your body and outside of it at the same time. Your mind’s kind of … disconnected. It’s you. But it’s not. You’re there, but you’re not the you you were. Time disappears, your vision tunnels. I … had just one purpose, one focus. Bailee. I didn’t feel anything. Even when I pulled the trigger.’

‘Is that what happened? Biddle went after Bailee?’

I nod. ‘I know I never told you what happened that night. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to talk about it, but I feel differently to the way I used to. So, just ask. Not now, not here, but sometime. And we’ll talk about it. If you want to.’

‘I’d like that,’ she replies gently. ‘Thank you.’

‘No big deal.’ I smile, even if it’s a little flat. ‘I should get back to work.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

As we walk into the taskforce room, the board catches my eye and I stop to look at it. ‘What’s this?’

‘You missed the meeting this morning. We think we finally have a comprehensive list of everyone associated with law enforcement that Vaughn has encountered, going right back to his first arrest, and we’re looking into all of them. Every cop, prison guard, defence lawyer, prosecutor, judge, you name them, they’re now on that board. We’ll be notified immediately if anything happens to any of them and of course, everyone on there is being notified to be vigilant and report any concerns immediately.’

‘Do they all have people other than Vaughn wanting them dead?’

‘I certainly hope not, but we’re not taking any chances.’

Finn spots us and weaves his way through the room. Olivia stands and follows. ‘How’d the interview go?’ he asks.

‘She did a brilliant job. Full confession,’ Rachael tells him.

‘Rachael,’ Olivia interrupts, ‘I haven’t had an opportunity to discuss the interview with Fiona Brookes yesterday.’

‘Right,’ Rachael says. ‘And?’

‘She believed her son’s behaviour to be totally out of character. In the lead-up, he’d been spending a considerable amount of time on the web. She said she had checked in on him when he left his computer one evening recently and found a victims of crime forum site open. It was apparent he was chatting with other people but she only caught a quick glimpse and wasn’t able to relay the conversation to us. When she questioned him, he told her he was doing research for a TAFE project. Even knowing now that wasn’t what it was about, she refuses to believe he would have killed his father on purpose. She says he doesn’t have it in him to be that calculating and that he’s never so much as even taken a swing at anyone before. Even for that to have happened, she believes someone must have put him up to it.’

‘She doesn’t want it to be his fault,’ Rachael comments. ‘That’s understandable.’

‘It’s not impossible someone online encouraged the behaviour,’ Olivia says. ‘These forums are intended to be safe places where victims can seek advice and support from one another, but unfortunately they can also occasionally encourage vigilantism.’

‘Did we get hold of his devices?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ Rachael says, ‘we contacted her before she came in and she brought them with her.’

‘Excellent. This could just be coincidence, but both Brookes and Thompson seemed to think the justice system was a joke.’

‘Which is why they felt they needed to take matters into their own hands,’ Rachael says.

‘But I’m wondering if there might be a particular thread on whatever forum site Rodney—and potentially Thompson—might have been on for people feeling let down by the system. It’ll give me somewhere to kick off, anyway.’

Two officers stride in. ‘Sorry to interrupt, inspector,’ the older of the two says to Rachael.

‘What is it?’

‘We have a further update on the car Detective Carson followed up on Wednesday.’

‘Yes?’

‘We got a lead from the hotline.’ The other officer hands her a printout. ‘A council worker tidying the park has come forward to let us know he’s seen a man matching Vaughn’s description almost directly opposite Winter’s apartment on three separate occasions. He was driving a black BMW matching the one described in Detective Carson’s report.’

‘Stupid of Vaughn,’ the older officer says. ‘To drive that sort of vehicle.’

‘No, don’t make that mistake,’ Rachael says with a shake of her head as her eyes skim the document. ‘It’s not stupidity, it’s arrogance.’

‘I’d been ready to dismiss that,’ Finn says. ‘But you’re right. It fits his personality. He doesn’t mind standing out.’

‘This description also matches an i5 m60 that was parked down at the waterfront the first time Vaughn turned up outside Constable Winter’s apartment. We have a partial number plate on it.’

‘Right. I want to know who owns that car. If it’s new, it’ll have telematics—find it, track it. See what you can find out.’

‘You think he’d risk driving around in a stolen car? Risk getting picked up over something so trivial?’ the younger officer asks.

‘No, it’s more likely he’s purchased one using a fake identity. He may have used that same fake ID in securing accommodation. It’s a start. Let’s not waste time. The second you get a hit, let me know.’ Rachael looks at me. ‘You may as well go home. Is Julian around?’

‘He’s out. Cait wanted to hang around with her friends after the funeral so he’s babysitting.’

‘Finn?’

‘Yeah, I’ll take her.’

‘You said Rodney Brookes’s mother brought his devices in,’ I remind her. ‘Can I take them home with me?’

‘Yes. Of course.’

‘I’m going to head off too,’ Olivia says. She steps in and gives Finn a possessive kiss on the lips. ‘Call me when you get home so we can organise tomorrow.’

‘Okay,’ Finn says with a nod. ‘Will do. Drive safe.’

I catch Rachael’s grin as Olivia walks away.

‘What?’ Finn asks her.

‘The great wedding dance is upon you.’

‘Shut up,’ he groans.

I’m not sure if Olivia overheard Rachael’s comment or if her sour expression is directed at me, but she tosses one last look over her shoulder before disappearing out the doorway.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Finn got in the car. The great wedding dance. Ha.

‘Are you that worried about it?’ Lexi asked.

‘What?’

‘You know what. The dance thing.’

‘No.’

She chuckled. ‘Liar. What have you got to do?’

He gave her his phone. ‘Last video.’

She watched it as he drove her the short distance back to the apartment.

‘So you basically all just slow dance around however you want then the tempo kicks up and you circle around the newlyweds and do the same move over and over while they do their—rather spectacular if not slightly corny—routine out the door.’

‘Yeah, I get the bouncing around side to side like idiots part. It’s the “however you want” part I don’t like.’

He pulled up and took a quick look around while she laughed about that. Decided it was safe. ‘Right, out you get.’

‘It’s really not a big deal,’ she said as she let them into her apartment.

‘I’d rather do anything else. Anything.’

She kicked off her shoes and moved into the middle of the lounge room then crooked her finger at him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

He cleared his throat. ‘What?’

She did a complicated little step from the video and actually made it look cool rather than stupid. ‘Practise.’

‘Ah …’ Normally he’d rather do anything else, but who was he kidding? Playful Lexi. He was toast. ‘Right. It’s just the slow stuff, really.’

‘That’s the easy bit.’

Not with his big feet. He stopped a respectable couple of feet away from her, copped a quizzical look.

‘What?’

‘I can’t teach you much from over there.’

He took a small step closer.

Her amusement increased. ‘For fuck’s sake, Finn, you’re not going to catch anything!’

‘I’m not worried about—’

‘What then? You think I’ll bite?’

‘I’m not sure what you’ll do if I put my hands in any wrong places.’

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged him closer. He immediately inhaled a head-spinning breath of that scent he’d caught a hint of so many times.

‘Put your arms around me.’

His brow shot up.

Her expression mirrored his. ‘What now?’

‘That’s just not something I ever thought I’d hear you say.’ He slipped an arm around her, rested his hand lightly at her lower back.

‘And the other one.’

‘Aren’t we supposed to stick one out?’

He caught the quick flash of her smile. ‘I don’t do teapot. It’s ridiculous. A slow dance is an embrace.’

‘Okay.’ He reluctantly moved his other arm around her, then sucked in a breath as she slid her arms up around his neck and lightly pressed her body to his.

‘Just like this.’

The effect she had on his senses was as crazy as it was, under the circumstances, inappropriate. He reminded himself this was purely platonic. A dance lesson.

‘You need to relax,’ she murmured. ‘Just sway. A bit less effort. That’s it. Think …’ He slipped his arms more fully around her. ‘Think “moving hug”.’

He had just enough time to breathe her in once more, to be surprised to feel the slightest tremor run through her as his fingers brushed the waistline of her blouse, before she pulled back.

‘But I don’t do the hug thing, so you get the idea, right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, great,’ she said and went across the room to pour herself a JD. ‘You should probably get going then. Date night, right?’

‘What? Oh, that’s not happening because we’re doing the wedding tomorrow night.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘What? Like, there’s a quota?’

‘We don’t need to be in each other’s pockets all the time. When we feel like going out, we go out. It’s no big deal.’

‘She’s pretty possessive for “no big deal”.’

‘We’re exclusive,’ he said, thoughtful as he watched her toss back her drink. ‘It’s just easier not to have the pressure of expectation.’

‘Hey, whatever works for you.’

At the knock on the door, she put down her glass and walked over to open it. A second later, it slammed so hard he jolted. Her face, as she turned, was blank shock. Instantly alarmed, he charged to her.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Get rid of that, please,’ she said, extending her arm straight out towards the door.

Another knock, this one more of a pound.

‘Make her leave!’ Lexi said.

‘Okay. Just … Who is it?’

She shook her head, her mouth opening and closing without an explanation.

‘Lexi!’

‘It’s my mother!’

‘I didn’t realise you two were in contact.’

‘We’re not!’ Her stunned gaze met his. ‘I can’t—’

He sat her down. ‘Stay put. I’ve got this,’ he said, and opened the door to face Carrie Winter.

Strands of unkempt hair hung loosely around a heavily made-up face. Her hollow cheeks, pallid complexion and deeply bloodshot eyes told him she was using, as did the jagged edges of scars and track marks that marred her arms. Other than the slight frame and colour of her eyes, he saw no resemblance to Lexi.

‘I want to speak to Lexi,’ Carrie said sharply.

‘I couldn’t care less what you want,’ he snarled.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?’

‘Detective Sergeant Finn Carson. You need to leave. Now.’

She poked herself in the chest with a pointy finger. ‘I’m her mother!’

‘You’re a lot of things, lady.’ His voice dripped with disdain. ‘But a mother was never one of them.’

‘Told you stories, did she? Boo hoo. You know kids only care about themselves. Can’t see what other people are going through. Don’t know what I did to keep a roof over her head. To put food on the table!’

‘I know exactly what you did for that roof and that food, you sick bitch.’

‘You think I give a damn what you think? I’ll say what I’ve come to say!’ She tried to step around him. ‘Lexi! I did prison time because of you. I got nothing because of you. You killed my man. You owe me!’ She paused. ‘No? Fine. I’ll go find Bailee.’

‘Wait!’

Finn heard the scrape of the chair as Lexi surged to her feet.

‘Finn, move,’ she said.

‘You owe me, Lexi!’ Then Carrie froze, eyes wide.

As Finn stepped aside, he looked over his shoulder to see Lexi had a gun pointed at her mother.

‘I’m not letting you near Bailee,’ Lexi said from between clenched teeth.

‘Lexi, don’t!’ He took a panicked step back between them. ‘Don’t let her ruin your life all over again.’

‘I should have done this when I was ten years old. You’re not bulldozing your way back into our lives and messing things up.’

‘You have a life? Ha! You think you’re so important, don’t you? You’re not! You think you matter? You never did! You’re just the little slut who ruined our family!’

Doesn’t matter. How many times had Lexi used those words when it came to herself? It only built Finn’s fury. He forced Carrie into the hall and closed the door.

‘Now wait just a—’

‘You’re going to walk away while you still can. Come anywhere near Lexi again and she’ll shoot you and I’ll make sure she gets away with it. Are we clear?’

‘You’re a cop! You can’t threaten me like that!’

‘I’m a senior detective with homicide. I have family and friends in very high places and my record is spotless.’ He leant in close, his gaze frigid. ‘I’ll annihilate you. I’ll come up with charges you wouldn’t have even heard of to keep you behind bars for the rest of your pathetic, worthless life. This is not an empty threat. I can, and if I see you again, I will.’

‘I’ll—I’ll just come back when you’re not here,’ Carrie said with a smug bravado her eyes didn’t reflect.

He lunged with enough speed and intent to send her several stumbling steps backwards. ‘This is your one and only warning. Stay away from them or else!’ He held her eyes long enough to make sure she knew he wasn’t bluffing. Then he closed the door on her, took some calming breaths and went to check on Lexi.

She was on the phone—to Bailee, he guessed. While she talked unsteadily to her sister, he poured her another JD and though he rarely drank it, got himself a glass and poured a much smaller one for himself.

Lexi managed a smile as she ended the call and took the drink. ‘I think they call this enabling.’

‘I’m good with that today. Are you okay?’

‘Of course. It was just a shock. But, ah … thanks. I’m glad you were here.’

‘Me too. Where’d you get the gun?’ he asked, picking up the Beretta 9mm and examining it. ‘Is it registered?’

‘Dawny. And I have no idea. Not to me.’ She took a long swallow. ‘I wouldn’t have shot her. It’s not even loaded. I just needed her to think I would. I need her to leave Bailee alone.’

‘She probably saw you on the news and followed you from the station. There’s no reason to think she knows where Bailee lives, is there?’

‘I don’t think so. Bailee offered to come over but I told her not to. She’s at ballet with Lucy. Besides, if that bitch is hanging around waiting for you to leave and Bailee puts in an appearance, she’ll be following her home next.’

‘I’m not going anywhere for a bit.’ He took a sip of the JD and felt it burn down his throat. Yeah. Not really a fan. ‘What time is Cait getting back?’

‘I told her to be home by ten thirty.’

‘You want to find something to watch?’

‘No. I have work to do.’

He groaned. ‘What are we doing?’

‘You can go home and relax. Seriously, I’m fine. I’m going to take a look at Brookes’s computer.’

There was no way he was leaving her while that bitch was probably still out there so he pulled his chair up next to hers. ‘You’re working, I’m working. Got an objection to a bit of help?’

Her gaze went to the door and back. ‘I suppose you may as well hang around.’ She poured them each another generous shot. ‘Can’t drink all this JD by myself.’

‘I think we both know that’s not true.’ He was pleased that dragged a smile out of her. ‘Right. Tell me what we’re looking for.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

‘I don’t reckon he’s going anywhere,’ Dino told Eddie and Stewie, checking out the shadowed figure of the man in the black SUV that was parked out front of the girls’ share house.

‘Who the fuck is it?’

‘Don’t know,’ Eddie muttered, drawing heavily on his cigarette. ‘None of that lot are gonna have a boyfriend with a shiny car like that. Screams cop to me.’

‘Maybe we should find out?’

‘No law says he can’t park there.’

‘He seems pretty interested in the house.’

‘I reckon he’s looking around,’ Dino said.

‘Paranoid much?’ Eddie taunted. ‘Hard to tell anything in the dark with the window up.’

‘I can see him moving around. Hey, hey! He’s looking at us!’

‘So? We’re allowed to be here.’ Eddie dropped his cigarette and snubbed it under his foot. ‘Let’s go.’

‘But what if—’

‘Then we fucking do something about it.’

‘Yeah, right.’

Dino followed Eddie and Stewie across the road. The guys strode towards the house like they owned the place so he lifted his chin and followed suit. He’d feel better with a hit. Especially if they did have to do something about it. Nothing could touch him when that shit was in his system. His hand went to his pocket, to the sachet, and he felt his heart kick in his chest. Cait was supposed to be here. Eddie had loaded the girls up with acid. They should be tripping out by now. Excitement overtook any nerves caused by some dickhead in a car. They were in for another epic night.

He barely even looked sideways at the figure in the Prado as he charged up the stairs to where Eddie was waiting at the top to be let in.

‘What do you want?’ Lizzy asked, appearing in the doorway.

Eddie ignored the question and sidestepped her, pushing her back in as he did, allowing Stewie and Dino to follow. ‘Thought we’d say hi,’ Eddie told her once they were all in. ‘Hi, ladies. Got a head start on us!’

The six girls were scattered around the room on the lounge, beanbags and floor. Eddie made a beeline for Cait and flopped down beside her on the lounge. When Stewie made for the alcohol, Dino decided to take the other side of Cait.

‘Hi,’ Eddie said.

Cait shifted away. ‘Hello.’

‘You don’t seem anywhere near relaxed enough to have indulged,’ Eddie said. Dino watched him run a finger down her arm.

She shrugged the finger off. ‘That’s because I haven’t.’

‘Then let’s get into it!’ he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing his palms.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Ooh. Now, there’s an unspoken rule in this house, honey. We never say no.’

‘No!’ Dino echoed dramatically, leaning in to Cait. ‘Did I hear a no?’

‘Cut it out, guys,’ Lizzy said. ‘Here, Dino, have a drink and stop freaking her out.’

He grinned widely at Lizzy. ‘Cheers,’ he said and skulled the bourbon mix before holding it out for round two. Lizzy rolled her eyes but poured him another. ‘Eddie?’

‘Nah, I’m good, gonna smoke something in a minute,’ he said, stretching his arm out behind Cait.

‘This is so cool. The colours!’ Michelle announced to the room. ‘Oh! I’m here!’

‘You okay, ’chelle?’ Lizzy asked.

‘Waiting room,’ Michelle murmured, her head swaying gently.

Lizzy grabbed Cait’s hand and pulled her up. Eddie scowled. Lizzy ignored him. ‘I think we should order food. Come and pick a pizza from the menu on the fridge.’

‘You think everyone’s gonna want to eat?’ Cait said, looking around at the others.

Dino felt his stomach rumble, decided he would.

‘Probably not,’ Lizzy continued, ‘but I’m playing minder and if you’re not gonna participate you might as well get fat too.’

Cait laughed. ‘Thanks, bitch.’

‘Aw, come on, Cait … it’s awesome,’ Belinda urged. ‘Just one square.’

‘As tempting as that is, I have to leave soon. If I take one now, my consciousness will be halfway across the universe when I get home, and Lexi’ll kick my arse so hard it’ll end up further into space than my head is.’

‘But it’ll be such a pretty trip there,’ Michelle teased dreamily, watching the slow movement of her arm as though it was somehow fascinating.

Dino was feeling pretty chilled, but he could tell Eddie wasn’t impressed. If Cait was planning on leaving, that was going to fuck up their night. Eddie picked up Cait’s drink and held it on his knee, then looked around. When the girls disappeared into the kitchen he dropped something into her drink, swirled it around and replaced it on the coffee table. Dino exchanged smiles with his mate: Nice work.

‘Wonder what’d happen if I took three?’ Michelle mumbled.

‘Talk to God or something?’ Lizzy said, re-emerging with Cait. ‘Pizza’s on its way.’

‘Got a godfather?’ Stewie asked, smoking his joint.

‘Nup.’

Stewie’s face twisted. ‘Then get back in there and add it the fuck on!’

Lizzy’s eyes rounded in mock terror. ‘Right away.’

Stewie grinned. ‘That’s better, bitch.’

‘I want to meet one of them spirit people or an alien,’ Belinda muttered.

‘Maybe you could reach Bobby. Ask him what the fuck?’ Michelle suggested.

Cait perched on the edge of Michelle’s lounge chair and Eddie got up to stand beside her. He started playing with her hair.

She shrugged him off. ‘Cut it out.’

‘Don’t be like that. Just bringing you your drink.’ He handed it to her. ‘You always this uptight?’

‘You always this handsy?’ she asked. ‘Back off.’

She was asking for it with that mouth of hers, Dino thought. He imagined all the things that mouth was gonna be doing very soon and, watching her sip her drink, started prepping his crystals.

Eddie slowly took a fistful of Cait’s hair and tugged her head back. ‘Maybe you’re just irresistible.’

‘Oh, yeah? What’s so irresistible about me?’

Eddie’s gaze roamed down to her breasts, back up. ‘How much detail do you want me to go into?’

She tried to stand, but Eddie didn’t release her hair. ‘Let me go.’

‘Finish your drink first. Then I’ll let you go.’

‘I’m going now.’

‘Bet you didn’t pay for that. Not very polite to take it and not drink it.’

‘Aw, come on, Eddie,’ Lizzy said casually. ‘She’s gotta go or she’ll be in the shit.’

‘In a minute,’ Eddie said. ‘I’ll make sure she gets home safe.’

‘Yeah,’ Stewie said. ‘Where d’you live, sweetheart? We’ll drive you. Right, Dino?’

‘Huh?’ Had he missed something?

‘Hey, Dino, you right?’ Eddie asked.

‘Yeah. Yeah, right. We’ll drive.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ said a voice from the doorway. The guy was a bit older, a bit brawnier, and came across cocky as shit. Guy from the car?

‘Who the fuck are you?’

‘That’s my ride,’ Cait said with a mock-pleasant smile. She patted Eddie on the knee. ‘See ya.’

Dino hazily noted Eddie’s tension and though he couldn’t muster any himself, wondered curiously what would happen next.

‘Not so fast,’ Eddie said. ‘Mate, you can’t just walk in here. This is private property.’

‘Just picking up Cait and we’ll be on our way.’

‘She’s not ready to go yet. We’ll run her back later.’

‘Let’s go, Cait.’

Eddie surged to his feet. ‘Did you not fucking hear me?’

‘I heard you, mate. I just don’t care. She’s with me. Now.’

Dino tried to concentrate but his vision was swimming. The swirling colours darkened, brightened, darkened. He couldn’t think. A thread of confusion wove through him. He’d wanted to be on his game for … what? His skin warmed, he looked up, watched the standoff with detachment as the patterns of colour in the room throbbed and swirled.

Cait grabbed her bag and crossed the room towards the man. ‘See ya, guys!’ she called.

‘Bye, babe!’ Lizzy called.

‘You gonna let him get away with that?’ Stewie asked.

Eddie looked around. Shrugged. ‘She really wants to go, she can go, right? What can ya do?’

Dino watched Eddie’s face swim as he crouched down in front of him.

‘What the fuck? You took acid?’

‘Did I?’

Stewie swore and shoved him. ‘Why?’

‘Don’t remember.’

‘We need to follow them!’ Eddie hissed. ‘Find out where the bitch lives! Give me your keys!’

‘Uh …’ He fumbled around uselessly until Stewie dug them out himself.

‘Right, this is boring, we’re outta here for a bit,’ Eddie said.

‘Save me that pizza!’ Stewie called to Lizzy as they disappeared out the door.

Dino collapsed back against the back of the lounge, happy to be left behind.

‘Stay hydrated,’ someone said, and put a drink in his hand. He drank thirstily. Tasted the colour orange.

‘Belinda!’ Lizzy giggled. ‘That’s bourbon.’

‘Oops. Man, I’m … Maybe you be in charge.’ Belinda sat, stared.

Dino felt the water bottle being put into his hand.

‘Here, sip this. You’re sweating like crazy. You look like Bobby did last week before he lost the plot and offed himself. Are you all right?’

Bobby. At the mention of his name, his friend materialised in front of him. Smiling, but not happily. That smile looked … crazy, his eyes filled with something unsettling. Dino felt a churning worry. Some part of his mind knew this was an acid trip. It was the same but … different.

‘Poor Bobby,’ someone said.

‘He was an arsehole,’ someone else said without any real conviction. In fact, all their words sounded sing-song to his drug-altered mind.

‘Dangerous.’

‘Nasty.’

‘A rapist.’

What? No. No one knew that. Why were the colours turning so dark? What—what was with this dread? Where was it coming from? Something was wrong.

Turning to the girls, he saw them morphing into grotesque shapes. Fear crept into his gut, and he tried to get up but his feet felt too large and heavy. He stood anyway, felt clumsy and stumbled to someone’s bedroom to hide from whatever was breathing down his neck. The sounds from the other room shattered into chalkboard scrapings then faded. Time seemed to elongate, then rush by in a blur. His thoughts spiralled down an inescapable dark and terrifying path, a claustrophobic sense of impending doom squeezing him into a tight ball. Tighter, tighter.

When he could no longer feel himself breathing, he tried calling out but his breathless gasps came out jumbled. Held captive within his own mind, on the edge of an abyss, unable to escape. Time stopped, trapping him in an infinite loop of terror. His vision pulsated as he stared at the corner of the room. In. Out. In. Out. An image appeared. A woman. A dirty white dress. She stared, malevolent eyes framed by matted dark hair over pallid skin. There. Not there. There. Not there. In. Out. In. Out.

She grinned menacingly.

* * *

Dino jerked, his body coming to life with one enormous intake of air. The room seemed lighter. Had it been a minute or hours since that thing had locked eyes with him? The corner was empty but the terror lingered.

He stumbled up, hurrying through the lounge and ignoring protests from the sleeping bodies he tripped over as he went. He found his wallet and keys and kept moving. Outside, first light touched the ocean. It was almost morning, and in realising that, he realised the drug had reluctantly begun its slow release on his sanity. The cool air, the rush, the wakefulness took the edge off the panic. His vision was still far from normal, but it was normal enough.

He got in his car and dropped his head back against the headrest. ‘Bad trip,’ he muttered. So that’s what they were like. He felt like death—how much alcohol had he had? He found a half-empty water bottle in the holder and skulled it. He was fucking thirsty. He needed a shower and some painkillers, and shit, he probably shouldn’t drive yet but—‘Screw it.’ He wasn’t going back in there.

He turned on the ignition and his bluetooth kicked in, the music helping to take the edge off his frayed nerves as he began the drive home along Wilfred Barrett Drive. The eerie blue sky and empty road were still gently spiralling with the effects of the acid so he focused hard on following the lines.

His phone lit up on the passenger seat and he turned off the music when Stewie’s name illuminated the screen. He answered the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

‘Hey. You kicked me in the fucking head when you left.’

His grip tightened on the wheel as he navigated the road, his voice strained. ‘Sorry, bro. Had a shit trip. Wanted to get home. Had some weird vision of Jenny Dixon. Scared the crap out of me.’

There was a strange shuffling or scratching noise coming from somewhere. Just occasionally. Something in the engine? Fuck.

‘Don’t let that shit get to you! What the fuck was with you taking acid, anyway? That wasn’t the plan! Fucked up our night.’

‘Don’t remember. Sorry.’

‘Forget it. Probably couldn’t have done nothing with that arsehole there anyway.’

‘What’s his go?’

‘Not sure, but we know where she lives. Kind of. Apartment building in Gossy.’

The scratching, scraping kicked off again. What was it? The glovebox?

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘We’ll figure that out tonight. Eddie was thinking we’d meet at his. Discuss it. He wants to kick the shit out of that guy that picked Cait up for mouthing off at him, too.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m in. Just gotta get over this.’

‘You had a bad trip before? Wonder if it was the alcohol.’

‘Coulda been, I guess. Or that fucking crow the other night playing on my mind. You don’t think this is the shit Bobby was seeing?’

‘Don’t be a fucking moron.’

‘But Jacob and Bobby said—’

‘Them saying that shit is what put it in your whacked-out mind, that’s all! Bro, grow a pair and think!’

‘Yeah, you’re right. I gotta go. Concentrate. I’m still tripping, that’s all.’

‘That’s more like it. Catch ya around eight.’

He dropped the phone back on the passenger seat. The glovebox continued to rattle.

‘Still tripping,’ he muttered again. To prove it to himself, he leant over, popped the glovebox open.

A crow burst out, flopped around, disoriented, then flapped its wings and careened around the car, crashing into the windows, the seats, his head.

‘Fuck!’ He tried to bat it away, felt the car swerve one way, then the other as he overcorrected. The bird hit the windscreen with a thud in his line of vision. By the time it fluttered out of the way, it was too late to avoid the guard rail and the drop beyond.

The first impact was a violent jarring, then the world spun in a series of disorienting whirls. Finally, the car came to a shuddering stop, the scent of crushed foliage filling his nostrils. His vision swam as he tried to make sense of the wreckage around him, too shocked to feel the pain in his broken body.

The bird flew away through the shattered windshield with a loud caw. Dino’s gaze followed its progress into the sky before fixing on a figure at the top of the ridge that sent a chill racing down his spine. The world swayed and blurred. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision and terror filled his final conscious moment.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Saturday, October 14

‘He ran his car off the road just on sunrise,’ Cait tells me.

‘What was he doing on the road at that time of morning?’

‘I guess he stayed at Lizzy’s place last night. Woke up and decided to go home.’

‘I wish I could say I was surprised.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means Julian said there was too much alcohol—or something—being consumed in there.’

‘He’s supposed to be protecting me, not dobbing on me!’

‘He also said it was clear you and Lizzy were sober. That’s hardly dobbing. He told me a couple of the guys were coming on a bit strong and he was worried about your safety, so he intervened but that you’d very much handled yourself.’

That seems to go a long way to appeasing her. But not all the way.

‘I wasn’t getting up to anything and I did have it handled! But, yeah, those guys are dickwipes. They turned up unannounced and uninvited but Eddie’s grandmother runs the show, so he thinks he can do what he wants. I didn’t want to leave Lizzy to deal with them but she reckons she can handle them.’

‘Look, I’d like you to come straight home from work today, okay?’

I see the objection forming.

‘Get Lizzy over. I’ll shout pizza. Please.’

She sighs. ‘Yeah, whatever. We’ve got a biology thing on Monday to study for so fine, but aren’t you coming in to train?’

‘Not today.’

‘Rodger will be pissed off.’

‘I’ve got more important things to worry about.’ At the knock on the door, I get up. ‘Cait. Thanks.’

‘For what?’

‘Compromising. Dealing with all this shit. Not kicking up a fuss.’

‘Gotta let you think you’re the boss sometimes,’ she says with a grin.

‘That only makes me suspicious!’

I open the door. ‘Morning,’ I greet Finn.

‘As in good? You’re probably not going to think so in the next few minutes,’ he says, but it’s lighthearted enough that I don’t panic. ‘Morning, Cait.’

‘Hi, Finn!’

I say goodbye to Cait and follow Finn down to the car. Climb in. ‘So what’s not good?’ I ask.

‘Underground carpark is out of order. Burst water main, so it’s flooded and the water’s gotten into the electrics and the power and gates are all fried. On top of all this rain we’re getting, could be days at best before it’s useable.’

‘Oh.’ In the scheme of things I can’t really think why I’m that bothered. Then as he pulls up outside the station a moment later I spot the reporters lined up. ‘And oh again,’ I mutter. ‘Now I get why we didn’t just walk. This should be fun.’ I wonder if Vaughn could be bothered making my life that tiny bit more difficult by somehow being responsible. I decide it’s unlikely, but possible.

‘Wait until I get out,’ Finn says, pulling up. He does, comes around and shields me as best he can.

‘Constable Winter, can you tell us why you were absent during the last press conference?’ I’m asked as soon as I open my door.

‘I was working.’

‘What can you tell us about the Waverley murder? Is this Vaughn’s second victim? Are you any closer to solving—’

‘Let us through, please!’ Finn orders.

Another mic is shoved in my face. ‘How do you feel about being targeted by Vaughn?’

I almost ignore my phone as the doors close on us but I have a suspicion … and yes. DV. Of course it is. My heart kicks in the worst possible way but I answer with a snarl.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t victims anonymous. What are you up to, writing another sob story for the media?’

‘I’m watching you trying to get into the station.’

‘Don’t you have better things to do than watch me on television?’

‘Who said I’m watching you on the television?’

I look outside but know I won’t spot him even if he is telling the truth. I hit speaker. My phone’s being constantly monitored now so I know this will be recorded but I want Finn to hear. ‘Why don’t you come out and say hi? The cameras will love it.’

‘Did you enjoy the circus?’

‘Not really my thing. You?’

‘I thought it was fitting actually.’

‘Oh?’

‘Never mind. You enjoyed my present?’

‘Shame you blew it up. We had similar ideas. I wanted to put your name on it and set it on fire.’

‘Sounds like something I once did to a cat. Isn’t it interesting how alike we are, you and I?’

‘We’re nothing alike.’ I watch police race out of the building, watch cars on the street. They won’t find him, but it’s nice to see they’re giving it a go.

‘We’re both abused, unloved, out of the family home at a young age due to cold, callous, money-hungry parents. We both learnt how to live on the wrong side of the law in order to survive. And we both, in our own ways, thrived. Me more than you, but you’re weak, Lexi. You need to be a part of something. You think contributing to some greater good, having some higher purpose, will make you feel better about all the shit you’ve done and had done to you. I’m not that naive. Which is why I have everything and more than I’ll ever need. You could too, if you’d only embrace your true self. You could be, well, a lot less mediocre.’

‘I’m surprised you’d admit that the person that got the better of you was simply mediocre. That someone mediocre could become the great Damon Vaughn’s prime obsession. That you’d feel compelled to make such a public fuss over a mediocre opponent. Is that really how you want the world to see you, Vaughn? As someone who can be beaten by and is only capable of challenging the mediocre? I’d be reconsidering my promotional strategy if I were you.’

I hear three distinct bangs down the line, as though he’s taking my comments out on his phone, then: ‘You really need to learn some manners!’

‘You really are full of your own self-importance. You want me to be polite, but calling me weak and mediocre is okay?’

‘That was in the context of advice.’

‘Yeah? If you want to be so helpful, confirm Waverley was number two.’

‘You’ve got your clue. Not getting anywhere?’ He laughs. ‘And you expect me to call you anything other than mediocre.’ The line goes dead.

I stare at the phone and suddenly understand the urge to smash it against something. I feel Finn’s hand at my elbow.

‘Let’s get you upstairs.’

When we hit the taskforce room, Olivia is speaking to the team. ‘Vaughn suffers from something called antisocial personality disorder.’

‘But you just said “sociopath” is the old term for the same thing and that they feel empathy,’ a detective says. ‘How can anyone with empathy enjoy making kids suffer?’

‘Does it really matter?’ I ask.

‘Because it’s warped,’ Olivia continues. ‘A study done in the eighties concluded ASPD sufferers’ empathetic skills enhance their awareness of the pain and suffering their victim is experiencing and they find this arousing and pleasurable. This was backed up in 2008, when researchers were able to show that their brains actually lit up with pleasure when they got to experience other people’s suffering. Especially when it was inflicted by another person.’

‘How did they do that?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ I say loudly. ‘By showing both sociopaths and non-sociopaths violent movie clips and using fMRI to scan their brains. But I don’t believe it’s the pain and suffering Vaughn gets off on. It’s the getting away with it. It’s not about his victims, it’s about him.’

The whole room’s suddenly paying attention to me.

‘How do you know?’ that same officer asks me.

I’m not sure I like the emphasis on the you, but whatever. ‘You don’t think I haven’t studied all this shit? I just don’t see the point of going over and over it. Psychopath, sociopath, ASPD—do they overlap? Are they distinct, does everyone agree on how? Does it matter? And there’s so many other possibilities. Has anyone considered that instead of one Y chromosome he might have two? You know what that does? Gives you an extra hundred million brain cells and a 20 per cent higher chance of ending up in prison or a mental hospital. Does that help us catch him? Nup. Maybe we should ask him to pee in a cup to see if it’s mauve. That’s suggestive of a high level of kryptopyrrole, a biochemical metabolite in your system that causes dangerous psychiatric dysfunction.

‘But why bother? Who cares what his levels are? Is that gonna help us catch him? Nup. You know that, despite not feeling empathy themselves, psychopaths—and I’d argue he’s plain and simply one of those—possess an uncanny ability to understand and mimic emotions to manipulate or blend into social situations. That’s his specialty. That’s what he’s using to fly under the radar while he attempts to rally all that ego-stroking social media support. There are facts we can take from the textbooks that are going to help us catch him, but we already know those ones. So, I can throw this shit at you all day or we can get on with the catching part! Shall we? Any sightings?’

‘We’ll hear if there are,’ Rachael says. ‘It’s unlikely he’s stupid enough to actually be there and, Lexi, you’ve got to stop antagonising him.’

‘He’s trying to make comparisons between us.’

‘He’s trying to keep you on the defensive,’ Olivia says.

‘Yes, I get that! I know him.’

‘You might think you do, but you don’t.’

‘And you do, I suppose?’

‘By studying—’

‘You’ve got textbooks, I’ve got real-world experience.’

‘And together you could be very, very useful to each other and this case,’ Rachael says. ‘We’re all on the same side.’

I shoot her a glare. ‘Selective memory?’

‘My office,’ she replies, and gestures for me to go first.

I march in. Sit.

‘That chat with Vaughn’s set you off on the right foot this morning.’

‘Was I out of line in there?’ I ask innocently.

‘Not at all,’ she says, lips quirking. ‘I enjoy watching people get hit over the head with how smart you are. I wouldn’t want the team underestimating you.’

‘Then …’

‘Finn told me about your mother turning up last night. I wanted to ask if you were okay.’

‘Oh. Yeah. That’s fine. I pointed an unloaded gun at her, Finn said some bad words. I doubt she’ll be back.’

She presses her fingers to her temples. ‘I can’t know that. Something else going on then?’

I decide I may as well ask. ‘How did you go, playing an instaparent to a teen?’

‘Has this got something to do with Cait and her young footballer friend who hanged himself?’

‘It’s related.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘They had a post-funeral celebration for him last night. I had Julian bring Cait home early but most of them stayed at Lizzy’s house. I don’t know what went on, but one of them left in the early hours, ran his car off the road and now we have two dead young football players.’

‘Christ.’

I flop back in my chair. ‘The thing is, this group … they’re tied up with kids that are a bit older through these share homes and some of those older boys—men, really—aren’t great. They’re giving the girls a hard time. Cait reckons they can handle it but I don’t like it. There doesn’t seem to have been any trouble up until now so I haven’t had any reason to be worried, especially with Cait. I mean, she knows how to look after herself. But then this suicide and some weird shit to do with that and this racial infighting within the team and … I don’t know if I should be stepping in. Doing more. I have this niggling feeling she’s not telling me everything.’

Rachael chuckles. ‘Well, that’d be a first. A teenager not telling you everything.’

I pull a face. ‘I’m worried this goes beyond normal teenage drama. And two dead teens in a week.’

‘Have you voiced your concerns with Linc? He’d know a fair bit about the goings-on, wouldn’t he?’

‘Or be able to find out. You’re right. I’ll talk to him.’

Rachael gets to her feet. ‘It was different with Finn. I’d been a part of his life from day one. He was always surrounded, one way or another, by loving family. Cait’s grown up more like you. I don’t think putting the screws on her too hard will work. You’re going to have to trust her to a point, but give her enough reasonable boundaries that let her know you care. Guide rather than enforce. You can’t help her if she chooses to leave, which she can, at any time.’

‘Yeah. Thanks, Rach.’

‘How did you go with Brookes’s computer?’

‘Finn and I found a couple of sites he’s been chatting on. Quite extensively. The conversations are about what you’d expect. Nothing to suggest anyone’s involvement has gone beyond the expected amount of supportive or that anyone has reached out beyond the sites. Nothing specific to the justice system being a joke, either. Everything seems clear. But he does have a TOR browser on board, which suggests he’s been on the dark web—or at least been up to something he doesn’t want tracked. Could be as simple as he highly values his anonymity and browsing privacy, but he just didn’t seem the sort so I’m going to look closer. Do some more prying. But I’d like to look at Thompson’s devices next, see if he was on the same victim sites as Brookes, talking to any of the same people, check for any other possible ties between them.’

‘I’ll organise that.’

‘Did we get anywhere on the car?’

‘It’s registered to a Joe Brown. Telematics are disabled. We have CCTV of the car; however we don’t get a great look at the driver.’ She brings the vision up on her laptop. ‘This is the footage of him leaving yesterday. We checked multiple CCTV cameras. Here he is again going past the Gosford Leagues Club, then past the train station, the public hospital, then we lose him before picking him back up near Ourimbah RSL.’

‘Anything on the motorway?’

‘Not that we’ve found yet.’

‘So where’s he going?’

‘We’ll figure it out. We’re searching the Ourimbah area thoroughly. Plenty of little backstreets and rentals in the area. We’re getting closer. We will find him.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The incessant blaring of music as I search Thompson’s computer is doing my head in. I get up and open Cait’s door. ‘I thought you were studying!’

‘What?’

I walk in, grab her phone and turn off the noise. ‘Studying?’

She spins her laptop around and I see diagrams of—Who am I kidding? No clue. Something biological.

A knock on the door has her jumping up. ‘That’ll be pizza.’

‘Pizza?’

‘You said, “Come straight home from work. Get Lizzy over. I’ll shout pizza. Please.”’

‘Yes. Yes, I did.’

She steps past me on the bed and jumps down. Lizzy trails her as she heads for the door.

Curious.

When the door opens, so does my mouth. A tattooed giant frames the doorway.

‘Zander! What are you doing here?’

‘You’re lucky it’s not Rodger,’ he says, walking in with way too much pizza to plant a kiss on my lips before dumping the armload of boxes on the table. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi. But why?’

‘I watched the news, questioned Cait. She said you were stressed out. You want to tell me more about this Vaughn guy and why you haven’t let me put a hit out on him?’

‘Be my guest.’ I open the lid on the first box. Supreme. Meh. I dump it aside and try the next one. I could go some pepperoni, so I take a slice. ‘What do I owe you?’

‘An explanation. Why didn’t you come to me?’

‘Because you won’t catch him, and while you’re not catching him, you’ll somehow violate your ICO and end up in prison.’

‘Your faith is inspiring.’

I frown at that. ‘I’m pretty sure Finn said something similar recently.’

‘He’s still alive?’

I look at him in surprise. ‘I hope so.’

‘From what I remember, he had more balls than sense.’

‘Finn?’ Cait asks in disbelief. ‘Are there two?’

‘Hey!’ I object.

‘Oh, come on! You’re the one who calls him Captain Sensible!’

‘I … not … often! And common sense is a good trait. Too many people don’t seem to possess any. Also, that doesn’t make him any less brave. He took this one on,’ I say, pointing at Zander.

‘Who won?’ Cait asks, fascinated.

‘Lexi,’ Zander says, snagging a piece of the supreme. ‘Put us in our places.’

Cait’s grin was huge. ‘So technically she’s got more balls than both of you.’

‘Not gonna disagree,’ he says. ‘But she could do with more of the sense. This Vaughn guy. You reckon he’s hanging local?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Got a picture?’

‘Just the one on the news and everywhere.’

‘I’ll take a look, spread the word.’

‘The word is already spread.’

‘Not everyone pays much attention to mainstream news. Oh, and …’ He rifles around in the bag he’s holding and pulls out a DVD. ‘Found one.’

Cait and Lizzy light up. ‘Cool! Thanks!’

‘I don’t own a DVD player,’ I tell them.

‘That’s okay, I’ve got a DVD drive to plug into my laptop,’ Cait says.

‘To watch what?’

‘Jenny Dixon,’ Cait says, showing me a ghoulish face on the cover.

‘The ghost Jacob believes he saw?’

‘Yeah. Some film company made a movie about her a few years back.’

‘And you bought it?’

Zander shrugs. ‘Cait said she wanted it and there’s that little old electronics shop on the main road at Toukley. Got all kinds of shit. Kept a few copies of these because apparently this ghost’s a coast legend. Named the local beach after her or some shit.’

‘Actually, they named a beach after a boat,’ Lizzy says. ‘A coal schooner. It was the Janet Dixon but somehow the name got mixed up over time. It was one of a heap of boats that sank near there before the lighthouse went up around nineteen hundred. So anyway, everyone survived the Janet Dixon wreck and ended up washed up on the beach and I guess that’s where the beach got the name. The ghost was named after the beach.’

‘But if everyone survived, why do we have a ghost?’

‘At least one and basically because no one knows her name and she’s always seen in that area. So, Jenny Dixon. And she’s a serious badass.’

‘I like her already,’ Zander says.

‘Why badass?’ I ask.

‘There are different versions of this story, but they all have the same main idea. In the seventies, this young woman was walking home on Wilfred Barrett Drive. It was getting late, so she thumbed for a ride and was picked up by a carload of guys. Five of them. They seemed nice, so she got in and away they went.

‘Long story short, they weren’t nice. They drove to the reserve above the beach, dragged her out and gang raped her, bashed her up and left her for dead. She was found alive and rushed to the hospital. She swore she was going to make the bastards pay for what they did, but she didn’t make it. She died.’

‘That’s awful. Did the guys get arrested?’ I ask.

‘Better yet, shot?’ Zander adds.

‘Nup. The police had their suspicions but couldn’t get enough on them to prove anything, so the men initially got away with it. But here’s the thing. In the next year, all five of them died.’

‘I’m guessing not well,’ I say, getting comfortable.

‘The first one complained about being harassed by a spirit, then went nuts and hung himself.’

‘What?’ I ask.

‘No joke. Strange how Jacob thought he saw her at the same place Bobby hung himself, hey?’ Lizzy says. ‘Anyway, the second guy had a car accident. Third guy was so messed up by the apparition torturing him that he drove his car off a cliff. Fourth guy same story—went nuts from being harassed and ran his car over an embankment and died. The fifth guy took off to try and escape it but the ghost followed him and mentally tortured him so much he ended up blowing his head off.’

‘Jail may have been preferable,’ Zander says.

‘Since then, people have reported seeing her on the road. The story goes that if you pick her up, she sits in the back of the car and disappears at the Noraville Cemetery, where they think she’s buried. Hey,’ she says when I scoff, ‘even police officers have reported this!’

‘Then I’m not the only one who smokes good shit,’ Zander laughs.

‘A highly respected doctor who was holidaying on the coast who had no knowledge of the legend needed counselling after he saw her. There are truck drivers who won’t use the road at night because she appears in front of them like she’s playing chicken! There’s way too many similar stories for them all to be coincidences.’

‘What’s “way too many”?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know how many stories but how does over three hundred official police reports sound?’

‘And someone made a movie about it.’

‘Yeah.’ Cait rips the plastic off the DVD.

‘Ah, what happened to study?’ I ask.

‘Dinner break,’ she says and disappears back into her room with Lizzy, the DVD and two of the pizzas.

Zander sits and helps himself to another slice. ‘Everyone loves a good ghost story.’

‘She’s got exams coming up.’

‘How domestic of you … Mum.’

‘Oh, shut up. How are you going, anyway? Haven’t seen you for a couple of weeks.’

‘Because you haven’t been to the gym. Rodger’s looking for a partner.’

‘Not interested.’

He grins. ‘I’m buying a half share.’

‘How?’

‘Dissolved the club, sold the assets the cops didn’t pinch back as proceeds of crime. We all took a share. Including the stash Breen had hidden.’

‘Well, good for you. Sorry.’ I check my phone. It’s Rachael.

‘Hi.’

‘We have eyes on Vaughn’s BMW. I know you’ll want to be here, so have Julian watch Cait and I’ll send a car for you.’

Hope shoots through me at the idea this could be it: our chance to stop Vaughn in his tracks. I don’t want to be hanging around waiting to be picked up.

I look at Zander. ‘Forget the car,’ I say to Rachael. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

* * *

The bike, or more specifically maybe, the way Zander rides it, gets us to the Ourimbah location quickly, and the flashing lights and cop cars and the general crowd make the place easy to find. I point to where I want him to stop and climb off, taking off my helmet. Before I can do much more, I’m spotted and duck under the tape as a reporter and cameraman hurry towards us.

Rachael appears from somewhere. ‘Conventional entrance.’ She assesses my ride. ‘Hello Zander.’

Zander’s smile spreads. ‘Rachael.’

‘Nice to see you. You need to leave.’

Not the least offended, he nods at the surrounded house. ‘You think your guy’s in there?’

‘Potentially.’

‘And she’s going in?’

‘That’s the plan,’ I say, focused on checking off what needs to happen before I do.

‘I’ll go as far as …’ He looks around and points. ‘This bit of police tape.’ Which is exactly where he’s standing.

Rachael considers him. ‘I can see why you two get on. You cross it, you’re in prison. I know about that ICO,’ she warns, though there’s no real threat in her voice.

He smirks. Nods.

‘You’ll need a vest,’ Rachael tells me, leading me away.

Nerves jump around in my stomach as I take in the dark house, the even darker windows, and tighten the straps of my vest, feel the weight of the gun in my hand. This is as real as it gets and the nerves are there. Rachael is on one side of me, keeping close. Linc is on the other. Cass and more of the team are at the back of the house, yet more police are spread out in various locations around the property. Rachael’s drilled into me what I need to do, where I need to be and, for once, I’m listening. I want this to be over.

Orders to surrender reverberate through the neighbourhood, bouncing off the walls of the building. They’re met with an eerie silence that sets my nerves on edge. The crowd of onlookers and media is growing in size as we move forward in teams, scanning every shadow, every corner for the slightest sign of movement.

Ear-splitting music suddenly booms to life.

When the first two police hit the ground it’s difficult to grasp what’s happening. Then the flash of guns firing through the windows tells its own story.

Police duck and run. Orders are barked through our headpieces and Rachael shoves me sideways behind a concrete letterbox. She orders me with a hand signal to stay because the deafening music is making communication with other officers impossible. I wonder what she’s doing when she moves away, only to see her and Linc drag an injured officer into some cover further away. How many shooters are there?

I feel the splintering of concrete above my head and a quick check behind me has me squinting against the glare of a spotlight. The sudden roar of an engine competes against the music. No, not a spotlight—headlights—and before I can process, a vehicle hurtles from the carport straight at me.

I launch myself out of its path, barely escaping its front wheels as I hit the ground and roll.

Fuck! Heart racing, my breaths coming in jagged bursts, I stay low as shots continue to echo around me.

The car spins around, spraying gravel and turf. It lines me up and comes again. My only possible cover is to run at the house, hope whoever’s shooting doesn’t aim any shots my way. The tyres spin and grip and there’s no time. I run and with one last desperate leap sideways, I make the edge of the veranda. The car keeps coming at me, hitting the house with a violent clash of metal and concrete.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Seated at a corner table, Finn twirled a cocktail stirrer idly between his fingers, his gaze wandering around the noisy wedding reception. The room was buzzing with drunken chatter, laughter and clinking glasses, and the music was a constant, upbeat backdrop. It seemed everyone was having a good time. The newlyweds had had their grand entrance and enjoyed their first dance as husband and wife, and the welcome and toasts hadn’t been too bad—the best man was quite the comedian. Dinner had been the standard—every second person got chicken—now there was some time to socialise before the cutting of the cake, which would be followed, he guessed, by more socialising, a bouquet toss, a thanks for coming and their special ‘see you later’ dance out the door that he’d been so looking forward to. Was he missing anything?

Oh, that’s right. Olivia. Where was she? Still over there, seated at a table at the far end of the room, talking to the same small group of people she’d spent most of the night with. She’d introduced them briefly as some old work colleagues at the start of the evening. Those particular ones were now based in Canberra after making the trek, as she had, from Perth for a change of scene.

It wasn’t as though he was sitting here choosing to sulk. He would have quite happily been over there involving himself in conversation, but she’d jumped up a half-hour ago and told him to wait a sec, she’d be right back. So he had, and every now and then when he’d caught her eye, she’d hold a finger up as though to say, Just wait, I’ll be back.

But he was getting bored and, okay, starting to feel like he was sitting there sulking, so he decided he’d get up and do something about it.

At the bar, a group of people laughed uproariously as he approached, looking for a soft drink. As he ordered it, one of the friends Olivia had been talking to appeared beside him. Accidentally bumped him.

‘Finn, wasn’t it? Hi.’

‘Hey,’ he said in return, noting the slightly unsteady way the guy slid onto the stool.

‘Sorry, we’ve been monopolising Olivia.’

‘No worries, she seems to be enjoying herself. That’s the main thing,’ he said. ‘You’re Jeremy, right?’ he added, struggling to remember the hurried earlier introduction.

‘Oh, she mentioned me?’

Yes, when she introduced us, he thought but instead just nodded and smiled.

‘I didn’t think she was going to say anything until it was a done deal.’

What was he on about? ‘I guess she changed her mind,’ he said, playing along.

‘Did she get the reference from Inspector Langley?’

Reference? ‘I’m … not sure that’s sorted yet.’

‘She should get it done. That kind of recommendation could really make or break her application.’

‘I’m sure she’ll get around to it.’

‘For sure. I mean, Rachael’s got a lot of good contacts. The right sort of sway. Got to hand it to Olivia. She’s got her head screwed on right. Knows how to get what she wants.’

He didn’t know if there was any reason for the anger that was starting to simmer, not yet. He told himself not to jump to conclusions. ‘Apparently.’

Jeremy ordered his drink, stumbled off the stool and headed back to the table. Finn considered joining them, but got distracted by his phone—Ava was calling. He went out into a quieter spot to answer.

‘Hi, sweetie.’

‘Dad! Are you there?’

‘Where?’

‘At the house!’

‘I’m at the wedding with Olivia. What house?’

‘But Lexi was on the television putting on a vest! And I think Aunty Rach is there and there’s shooting and—Dad, look at the news!’

Ice settled over him. ‘I’m sure they’re fine. I’ll call you back.’

He got the barman’s attention. ‘Can we turn that television on, please?’

‘Sorry, sir, not while the reception is on.’

‘This is police business,’ he said, showing the man his identification.

With a shrug, the barman took a remote from behind him and handed it over.

‘Thanks.’

Finn switched the television on, changed channels, found a live broadcast and turned it up. He saw a scene out of a war zone, a reporter in front of a camera and a scrolling report at the bottom of the screen telling him two gunmen shot and police injured, possible fatalities. ‘We’re still waiting on official word from police,’ the reporter was saying, ‘on exactly what led to this operation here tonight, or who these two gunmen were. But right now the focus is on the police officer trapped beneath the car and the house behind me and what condition they’re in.’

The camera zoomed in on a black BMW crumpled against a collapsed wall. Rubble, spotlights, dust, mess. A heavy knot formed in the pit of Finn’s stomach. A black BMW meant Vaughn. Ava had seen Lexi. And someone had been targeted, was trapped under that car. He tried to swallow back panic, called Lexi’s phone. Voicemail. Rachael. Voicemail. Julian. It rang twice.

‘Finn!’

‘What’s happening?’

‘We’re watching on the TV. Can you find out about Lexi and Zander, let us know?’

A commotion in the background from Cait had Finn’s blood running cold. ‘What?’

‘Wait … Cait, calm down and tell me, what?’ Julian paused. ‘Finn? Vaughn just tweeted.’

Finn fumbled to get his phone from his pocket and opened X.

Oh, Lexi. That’s not how I was hoping this would end.

He heard Cait’s panic, watched the chaos on screen. ‘I’m coming,’ he said. And ended the call.

‘There you are!’ Olivia said, her smile fading as she looked at his face. ‘What—’ She followed his gaze back to the television. ‘What’s happened? Is that our team?’

‘We have to go.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You can fill me in on the way.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

‘Lexi, don’t move!’ Rachael tells me, echoing the instructions of the rescue team.

‘Couldn’t if I wanted to!’ I croak, my throat thick with dust. How the hell am I not dead? Damaged maybe. Stuck definitely. But alive. Somehow. I wriggle one aching arm, just the tiniest bit, but it doesn’t help. Nothing is going to be comfortable until something is taken off me.

‘Lexi!’ Zander’s panicked voice cuts through the chaos.

‘Za—’ I cough, struggling to catch my breath. ‘Zander, you were supposed to stay put!’

‘I had to stop Rachael getting run over trying to stop you getting run over. Which stopped me stopping you getting run over.’

‘I didn’t get run over.’

‘No, a house fell on you.’

‘I should lock you up for interfering!’ I hear Rachael snap at him.

‘No, really, that’s okay, you’re welcome,’ he shoots back.

‘We’re just about ready to get this off her,’ I hear one of the rescue guys announce as they work to remove the piece of roof that narrowly missed killing me and is currently trapping me under the rest of the rubble. ‘Everyone clear.’

There’s a groan, followed by the cracking and tumbling of debris. More dust fills my mouth and nostrils, choking me and stinging my eyes, but a loud crash and the light flooding in signals I’m free. I move cautiously, trying to work out what’s actually damaged and what just hurts because of the way I’m positioned.

Rachael and Zander pounce but are ordered out of the way as more debris is cleared and two paramedics start shooting questions at me I’m not sure I have answers to. When I try, all I manage is more coughing. I struggle to sit up, brushing off their cautions. ‘Water?’ I manage, grimacing, because, ow, everything might be working but it’s still going to bruise. Probably a lot.

I get myself into enough of an upright position to take a few sips from the water bottle I’m handed and squint at the spotlights beaming down at me. Somewhere beyond are more lights. Some flashing. Cameras. Media. Shit. The thought Vaughn is no doubt watching on, enjoying the public spectacle, gives me the motivation I need to get moving.

‘Okay, help me up.’

‘I’ve got this,’ Zander says, and positions himself so he can lift me clear and set me carefully on my feet.

I lean on him for a moment, dizzy, while cheers erupt from the crowd.

‘They think I was dead or something?’

‘It’s my Herculean strength.’

‘Fair enough. It’s dazzling.’

‘Can you walk?’

‘I think so.’ I take a few tentative steps and find that yes, I can hobble. And now that I’ve removed several layers of dust from my throat and can breathe and move freely, I realise that, yeah, I’m okay.

‘Not so fast!’ A paramedic orders me back to the ambulance while Rachael approaches the media and starts talking to them. ‘Can you climb into the back for me?’

‘Yeah.’ I let them fuss over me while I take a moment to look around at the rest of the scene. ‘Did we get everyone?’

‘There were two of them,’ Cass says.

I see two body bags on waiting trolleys and know we won’t be figuring out what this was about any time soon. ‘Definitely Vaughn’s car?’

‘It’s the car. So, yeah. Assume so.’

‘If this is vic three, it’s moving too fast,’ I say, almost to myself.

‘Don’t know that there’s a vic here,’ Linc says, joining us. ‘Initial search of the house hasn’t picked one up.’

‘So what was this about?’

‘We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.’ Linc eyes Zander with interest. ‘Hi.’

‘Zander, Linc; Linc, Zander.’ I introduce with a wave of my arm.

‘Wondered when I’d get to meet you,’ Linc says and shakes Zander’s hand.

* * *

‘You comfortable?’ Zander asks, adjusting yet another cushion behind me on my lounge.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks,’ I tell him. It’s late. He and Cait are fussing and, as much as I appreciate the concern, all I want is some peace and quiet and my JD. I’m considering voicing that when a knock on the door dashes my hopes.

‘I’ll get it,’ Zander offers, and kicks his feet off the table. ‘Oh, hey, Finn, what are you doing here?’ Instead of stepping back, he leans casually against the doorframe. ‘Bit late to the party.’

‘I came as soon as I could. It was a long drive,’ I hear Finn reply.

‘Yes, that’s right. You were off playing weddings with your girlfriend while Lexi faced down an armed gunman and a kamikaze in a Beamer.’

‘What’s all that about?’ Cait murmurs with a puzzled expression.

I let out a sigh. ‘Just a bit of posturing.’

‘Yeah, can you see Finn’s expression from your angle? I’d be more inclined to go with potentially violent face-off,’ Cait remarks, her gaze shifting between them.

I can’t see Finn, but I don’t doubt it. ‘At least Zander’s not holding a fence post this time.’

‘What?’ Cait’s looking at me, completely bewildered.

‘Zander! Let him in the door!’ I call out.

‘Just razzing him.’ Finn comes into view as he follows Zander in. ‘Want a beer?’ Zander offers with calculated friendliness.

Finn hesitates for a moment before accepting. ‘Yeah, okay, thanks.’ But his attention’s squarely on me. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey. Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine,’ I reassure him.

He drops onto the lounge beside me. ‘I think I need to be more careful about what I put out into the universe. When I said I’d do anything to get out of dancing, this wasn’t what I meant.’

‘I’d say that had nothing to do with the universe and everything to do with Vaughn.’ I wince as I shift position, but it’s more from everyone rushing to help than from the small amount of discomfort I cause myself. ‘Where’s Olivia?’

‘Once I heard you were okay, I dropped her home on the way here.’

‘You didn’t have to cut your night short.’

‘I didn’t know anything other than you were under a house until we were halfway back. I wasn’t hanging around.’ He stops talking and just stares at me, a mix of relief and concern in his eyes.

I offer a small smile. ‘Sorry.’

Zander hands Finn a stubbie. ‘Thanks.’ Finn puts it on the coffee table. I think he only accepted it to be polite. ‘Viv and Ava send their best. They were hanging on updates.’

‘It must have looked a lot worse than it was.’

‘It did,’ everyone says simultaneously.

‘Where’s Rachael?’ he asks.

‘Still at the scene with Linc and Cass, making sure no one misses anything.’

‘Have we identified either of the gunmen?’

‘All we know so far is the car was Vaughn’s, there were drugs found on site, and the house was a rental. No vics other than the two gunmen.’

‘And the driver of Vaughn’s car, one of those druggies, singled you out and tried to kill you and Vaughn posted about it on his social media accounts.’

‘Yeah, sounding so fucking cut up about it, too,’ Zander says. ‘Does he want to play this game or not?’

‘This is the game,’ I tell him. ‘If I survive to the end, he gets to show me how clever he is by beating me then—’

‘That’s not gonna happen.’ Zander drains his beer and gets up, tosses the bottle in the bin. ‘I’m going.’

‘Ah—bye. Don’t do anything—’

‘You wouldn’t do? That’s a pretty safe bet. But I am going to see what I can do about this shit. I’ll be in touch.’

The door closes with a definite click just as my phone pings. Vaughn.

Dead or alive?

I pull a face and show it to Finn before texting back. Still alive, sorry.

The call back is almost immediate.

‘What the fuck was that about?’ I ask by way of greeting, setting the phone to speaker.

‘Thought you might be getting bored,’ Vaughn tells me.

I’m not thrilled Cait’s listening, but I can’t miss one opportunity to drag any and all information possible out of Vaughn so I send her a reassuring wink and let the conversation continue. ‘Ha. You thought the media might be, perhaps.’

‘I knew you’d have figured out the car by now. Had to get rid of it somehow.’

‘So why these poor arseholes?’

‘You didn’t recognise them?’

‘Didn’t get to say hi, unfortunately.’

‘Hugh was insignificant, but Steve and I go way back. Used to pack drugs for the Hamills together.’

‘I bet those were the days, right?’

‘You have no idea.’

‘Enlighten me.’

‘That was going to be me. I had every intention of becoming Hamill himself. The kingpin. Top status. All that power and respect. I was going to run the world, or at least control a decent chunk of it, with money, drugs and violence.’

‘Shame that little life goal didn’t pan out.’

‘Not yet. But I’ve made plenty of money and renewed a few contacts. Just like Steve and Hugh.’

‘They’re not much use now though, are they? I mean, they’re dead.’

‘They served a purpose tonight. Drug addicts are easy to rile. To make do silly things. I warned them you were coming after them. They’ve been paranoid for days.’

‘Why would they think I’d do that?’

‘They were the only two you didn’t catch after the Hamill arrests. The ones that went after Lochie and chased you when you picked him up. The ones who reported your car back to Hamill.’

I had to think a long way back to a past case but, yes, that’s right. We never did figure out who they were. ‘So you dragged them in by …’

‘I parked my car out front, knowing everyone was looking for it. I hoped you’d show. When you did, I let them know. By then, they were whacked out on a little something I’d provided, easy to convince you were on a personal vendetta. I thought at best they might have shot at you. The car was a whole other level. I have to admit I was concerned when the house came down on you. Disappointed even.’

‘You’re not capable of concern for anyone but yourself.’

‘You are though, too much, and it’ll be what kills you. But okay, I was concerned for me. I was going to miss out on our grand finale.’

‘Killing me yourself?’

‘Oh, I’m not just going to kill you. The fun we’ll have. See you soon.’

I drop the phone to the table and send it a filthy look.

Cait’s eyes are wide. ‘Lexi, he’s crazy! How can you talk to him like that?’

‘The more I get him to say, the more we learn about his plans, about what he’s thinking.’

‘I don’t think I want to know,’ she answers with a shiver.

‘I don’t have that luxury.’

‘Everyone’s saying he’s a monster.’

‘He’s just a man,’ Finn says. ‘The power he has comes from making people scared of him. He thinks he’s smarter than all of us. But he’s deluding himself. All he’s got is his ego driving him on.’ He smiles reassuringly. ‘We can beat that. Beat him.’

Cait takes that in, nods slowly, and I see some of the tension leave her face as she smiles at him.

‘Okay, so,’ she says in the ensuing silence, ‘you want to tell me about this fence post?’

‘No,’ we reply in unison.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Monday, October 16

‘Vaughn’s focused on getting back at Constable Winter and, as Saturday night’s events show, he’s not afraid to take extreme measures to do so. It’s crucial to understand that fairness isn’t part of Vaughn’s plan; he unequivocally intends to stack the odds in his favour.’

I shift stiffly in my chair as Olivia addresses the media, wondering how much longer this is going to take.

‘This is not about justice or any larger social issue. This game is simply a reflection of Vaughn’s sociopathic and narcissistic tendencies intended to serve as a demonstration of his superior intellect over Constable Winter. This is driven by an insatiable need to gratify his inflated ego and to enact whatever sadistic fantasies he’s harbouring. From Vaughn’s perspective, this not only serves as a means of exacting revenge but also as a platform for the public exhibition of his distorted self-perception and need for self-aggrandisement.’

I have to wonder if everyone listening even gets what Olivia’s saying sometimes. I try not to yawn. Rachael’s explained the details surrounding the events of Saturday night at great length and I know I’m about to be in for a stack of questions, so I need to wake up and pay attention. I’m stiff and sore and the painkillers are great but the best painkiller of all will be when there’s no more press conferences to attend.

‘Detective Brighton,’ Ron Wiley, a reporter I vaguely remember from some major newspaper or other calls out, ‘you’re suggesting the events of Saturday night were Vaughn’s fault. But all we know for sure is that Vaughn posted his concern for Lexi on social media. That he was hoping her death at the hands of that drug dealer wasn’t how this would end.’

‘But as you can hear clearly from the excerpts of the phone conversation we’ve released,’ Olivia replies, ‘Vaughn orchestrated the event that directly endangered Constable Winter, prompting the gunmen to take the actions they did.’

‘But is that clear?’ Ron asks. ‘What do you have to say about Vaughn’s claims that those phone conversations are fabricated, that it’s not his voice in those calls, and that the police are using the calls as a weapon to perpetuate the lie that forced him to take this action in the first place?’

‘That’s simply an attempt by Vaughn to mislead and manipulate the public.’

‘Then why haven’t full conversations been released?’

‘Some details must remain confidential to maintain the integrity of the case.’

‘So you’re keeping secrets from the public?’

‘We’re managing the case in the public’s best interests.’

‘Implying it’s in the public’s best interests to be kept in the dark?’

‘I’m suggesting that allowing yourself to be swayed by Vaughn’s rhetoric is falling into his trap. I’ll now hand the floor over to Constable Winter to address some questions.’

Ah, crap, I think, as every eye turns on me.

‘Constable Winter, it’s great to see you in one piece after the terrifying events over the weekend. How are you feeling?’

I smile pleasantly at Laura Matthews, a seasoned investigative journalist. What do I know about her? Good to have onside. Ruthless pain in the arse when crossed. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘It seems Vaughn will take any opportunity to come at you. How does that make you feel, knowing all of this revolves around you?’

‘This is not about me. It’s never been about me. This is about Vaughn. If he manages to get me out of the way and someone else slights him, he’ll go after them. And the next one and the next. He’ll be just as outraged and offended every time and, every time, it’ll be about him. Vaughn can’t make anything about anyone but himself.’

‘He appears to calm this outrage and offence through inflicting pain and suffering on his victims. That must be of intense concern for you, considering the position he’s put you in?’

‘I don’t think that’s it. I’ve no doubt he enjoys killing—seeing the fear in his victims’ eyes and relishing the payback, because that’s power. But he doesn’t take his time, savouring his kills. He doesn’t stretch it out so he can enjoy their pain. It’s easily as much about the outcome, and the outcome is attention. From the crimes we know about, he doesn’t appear to see his victims as individuals. They’re props. A means to getting what he wants.’

‘Can you explain that please?’ Another voice. Male. A quick look to the back row reveals an older man with dark framed glasses, cheap suit. Local news guy. Adam French. Harmless enough—for a reporter.

‘Prior to rescuing his last victim, I witnessed him attempting to drug her. He wasn’t interested in her feeling the full horror of what was about to happen to her. It was a production to him. Plain and simple. Drug her, get it done, put it online for the world to see then sit back and glory in his own magnificence. That was the part he wanted to relish. Not the act itself. He couldn’t have cared less how much she suffered or didn’t.

‘When he killed Burrow, the reporter, that was frenzied. Quick. He didn’t take his time, didn’t turn it into a private torture session. He got his victim on the phone for the world to hear, videoed his demise and killed him as quickly and violently as he could—for a show. For shock value. He left a message around his neck—not for Burrow; for everyone else. Burrow was a prop. A means to an end. So again, he could post it publicly and sit back and glory in his own power, his own superiority over the police. His own magnificence. Just like he’d done with all those rival drug dealers he murdered for Hamill back in the day.’

‘Do you think that’s all he wants to do to you?’ Matthews again, with a scowl at French for his interruption.

‘He’s trying exactly the same thing on with me, only on a grander scale. He’s drawing out the lead-up so he can savour the attention. He’s gotten so much confidence from all his earlier wins and so much pent-up rage from the failure of that one show. And once again, he could have come for me quietly, could have taken his time, tortured me, killed me. But again he’s putting on a show. He’s publicly announced his plans to destroy my life. He’s playing it all out step by step in the media for all the attention he can suck out of it. Again, it’s not about me, it’s about him.’

A few more questions come at me then Rachael takes over, jumping in to take a few more. Olivia seems to be shooting me covert glares but I’m not sure why until we’re headed back upstairs.

‘You do realise you completely countered some of what I said in there?’ she snaps.

‘Did I?’ I ask, genuinely unaware. ‘Didn’t realise. Sorry.’

‘How could you not realise?’

‘Olivia,’ Rachael interjects calmly, ‘Lexi’s entitled to her own view.’

‘If we can’t get our stories straight, we appear incompetent. That’s completely unacceptable!’

‘I highly doubt anyone will think we’re incompetent because you have slightly differing views on Vaughn’s motivations.’

‘I answered the question the best I could,’ I tell her. ‘It’s what I think. I don’t have the time to sit down with you and study your notes on Vaughn before every press conference. Besides, wouldn’t that seem stranger? Who’s to say I’m not right and you are, anyway?’

A derisive cough explodes from Olivia’s throat. ‘You’re joking.’

‘Olivia,’ Rachael begins, but I cut her off.

‘No, she’s right,’ I say, because, fuck it, I’m sick of playing nice and Julian’s just messaged with a bigger problem. ‘Only someone with an ego like Vaughn’s could possibly truly understand him. Rachael, I have to go. My mother’s back.’

I ignore Olivia’s open-mouthed glare and head for the stairs.

* * *

‘What the fuck is going on?’ I ask five minutes later as Rachael and I step into chaos outside my apartment block.

‘She was trying to talk her way back in,’ Julian tells us. ‘But she was flagged from her last visit so the officer on duty called me and I had him hold her here. She’s not happy about it.’

‘Of course I’m not happy about it! You have no right!’

Because that officer is looking nervously between Rachael and me, I smile tightly. ‘You did exactly the right thing, thank you. We can take it from here.’

He looks like he can’t get away fast enough.

My face shows only loathing as I turn to my mother. ‘What could you possibly be desperate enough for to risk coming back here?’

‘I want your hair,’ she spits.

Well, that’s unexpected. ‘What. The. Actual. Fuck?’

‘For DNA! Didn’t you ever wonder who your real father was?’

Sickness crawls into my stomach but I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m surprised you even know.’

‘He wants proof you’re his!’

‘Okay.’ I blow out a breath and stare at the sky while I let that sink in. ‘Let me guess. You’re using my existence to blackmail some guy who was, what? Cheating on his wife and doesn’t want her to know about me?’

She shrugs carelessly. ‘Something like that.’

‘I wish I could say I was surprised.’

‘I need the money!’

‘More than two decades later, you’re still trying to make money off me.’

‘I gave birth to you!’

‘For a paycheque! You wanted to have as many kids as you could so you could pimp us out while welfare paid you to sit on your arse! I’m betting my sperm donor’s name was Alex.’

My mother’s eyes narrow in instant suspicion, though I couldn’t care less what she thinks I know. ‘Close enough. How the fuck’d you figure that out?’

‘Let’s see, it’s not rocket science. Bailee’s dad was Bailey. You decided you’d have lots of kids and name every one after their fathers so you could keep track of who owes what in child support, right? Shame that didn’t work out the way you wanted.’

‘I almost died giving birth to Bailee! Not that you’d care. Couldn’t have no more kids after that. I’ve got nothin’ and Alexi never paid a cent towards you. Couldn’t find the bastard. Now I have and he’s prepared to pay up. I just need some fucking hair that you were going to throw out. You’re all over the news with your fancy job. What are they payin’ you, huh? You must be rollin’ in it! What’s it matter to you?’

‘It matters because you’re done living off me. Go get a job!’

Rachael steps in. ‘Julian, escort this … woman from the premises.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Ooh, listen to Mrs High-and-mighty,’ my mother jeers at Rachael. ‘You were like it back then, and you’re still the same now.’ Then she looks me up and down the way she always did. Like I’m worthless. ‘You’re not one of that lot. Sitting up on that podium on the TV like you’re something special. You’re just making a fool of yourself. Vaughn’s gonna beat you. He’s gonna get ya!’ She steps closer. ‘And I’m gonna laugh!’

Her sheer hatred leaves me momentarily speechless, rooted in place.

‘You evil bitch.’ Rachael lunges, swiftly wresting Carrie to the concrete. After a thorough search, she holds up a sachet of white crystals, tauntingly flashing it before my mother’s face and roughly restraining her with handcuffs before reading her her rights.

With a knee still planted firmly in the small of Carrie’s back, Rachael leans down to speak in her ear. ‘I can’t fathom how someone like you gave birth to Lexi, but she absolutely deserves her spot representing us in the media and on my task force. You, on the other hand, are garbage. I only wish we could have locked you up for longer. So let’s see what we can do about that.’ With a nod to Julian, they drag her up.

‘We’re going to charge you with drug possession and apply for an AVO, which we’ll get. I’m going to hope there’s more on file for you since your last stint in prison and if there is, I’m going to put you in front of a magistrate this morning and see if we’ve got enough to throw you right back in there.’

‘Just give me what I need and I’ll never bother her again!’

‘Give you what you need?’ Rachael’s expression is pure abhorrence. ‘I wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.’ She signals Julian to take charge.

‘Move,’ he orders with a firm shove.

I feel like I need to throw up, so I go up to my apartment and spend a few moments in the bathroom. But there’s nothing in my stomach and without the purge, the nausea remains. I’m shaking. I hate that my mother can still have this effect on me. I splash some water on my face and lean on the sink while I take some long, slow breaths and make myself steadier.

Then I fix my hair, my make-up, any mundane task to buy me some time before heading out again.

Rachael has made me a coffee, though I’m not sure I can stomach it. She’s sitting at my dining table nursing one of her own.

‘I had an officer let me in. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I thought a break was in order before heading back.’ Her worried gaze drifts over me. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah—thanks,’ I add when I sit and she slides me my coffee. ‘Do you really think you can lock her up?’

‘Depends on what she’s been up to. Probably not. But she can sit in a holding cell and worry about it for a while. I don’t want her near you.’

‘I got that.’

‘Although …’

‘Although?’ I ask reluctantly.

‘Maybe it’s worth considering finding out who your father is.’

‘You heard my mother. He’s paying her to keep quiet.’

‘She said “sort of”, which, to me, implies she’s probably lying to you. There could be a multitude of reasons why he wants to confirm paternity. He might be a decent guy.’

I let out a small laugh. ‘Chances?’ I lower my head into my hands and study my coffee. ‘I don’t think I need this right now.’

‘Maybe just a name?’ she says gently. ‘Then, down the line, if you decide it’s something you want to pursue, you could look him up. There’s nothing to say you ever have to meet him, but at least you’ll have the choice. This might be the only opportunity you get.’

I ponder the idea for a moment, then shake my head. ‘She wants to blackmail him, not arrange a family reunion. Even if I said yes, no one’s going to convince her to give up that name.’

Rachael’s brow shoots up and her smile is confident. ‘Don’t forget who you’re talking to.’

I can’t argue with that. If blood could literally be made to flow from a stone, Rachael would be the one to make it happen. Do I want to know? Will I regret it if I don’t take the opportunity to find out? Knowing me, probably not but …

‘I don’t know. And it’s probably better Finn doesn’t find out what just happened.’

Rachael frowns and lowers her coffee. ‘There’s a possibility he’s run into Julian taking your mother into the station. Is there a problem?’

I grimace. ‘He’s feeling a bit overprotective at the moment and last time she was here, he threatened her.’

Some of the tension in Rachael’s face eases. ‘He’s not foolish. He knows where to draw the line.’

‘Are you certain? Because he used words like “annihilation” in respect to what would happen if she came back. And she has, so … Look, I’m not trying to shield the bitch, I’m trying to protect Finn. I don’t want him to feel like he has to involve himself in something that could backfire on him. He pretty much threatened to use his spotless reputation to get away with conspiracy to murder.’

Rachael laughs. ‘I’m confident that whatever action he took, if any, would be completely justifiable. Why are you smirking?’

‘I think Inspector Perfect has a touch of vigilante in her after all.’

Rachael finishes with her coffee and stands. ‘Rules are important, and the law is absolute,’ she declares as she goes into the kitchen and rinses out her cup. ‘I have to maintain an image that reflects my position in the police force. But here’s the thing: the better you understand the law, the more effectively you can use it to your advantage. So, what I like to say to people like your mother is, “Come after the people I care about and see what happens.”’ She returns to retrieve her purse from the table. ‘Take your time. I’ll let you know when I’ve concluded my interview.’ She winks and lets herself out.

My mother doesn’t stand a chance. I almost want to watch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

After receiving a cryptic message from Rachael, Finn went downstairs.

‘Inspector Langley?’ he asked at the desk.

‘In the interview room. Dealing with some drug addict.’

‘What? Who?’

‘Ah … a Carrie Winter.’

Finn’s blood boiled. Had that woman been back to bother Lexi?

As he thought it, Carrie was led down the corridor. She was wearing loose-fitting clothes that hung on her gaunt frame, her long blonde hair tangled and dishevelled. She spotted him and her shadowed eyes widened.

‘Help! Help! Help!’ she screeched, clawing at Rachael as she threw herself behind her.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Rachael said. ‘Can someone get this woman off me, please?’

‘Police brutality!’ she screamed instead when two officers dragged her back.

As Carrie shrieked, Finn noticed a few media personnel outside the station paying keen attention, their cameras and microphones ready to capture the drama unfolding.

‘What is she doing here?’ he asked Rachael, shaking his head at the woman’s theatrics.

‘Assisting me with some inquiries. Ms Winter, I assure you, you’re perfectly safe.’

‘He said he’d shoot me!’

‘Did you say that, Detective Carson?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Of course not,’ Rachael repeated. ‘Please remove this woman from my sight,’ she asked another officer.

‘Did you say that?’ she asked him quietly.

‘No. I told her I’d let Lexi do it and make sure she got away with it.’

‘Ah.’ Rachael chuckled. ‘I did hear something about conspiracy to murder.’

‘I don’t know what it says about me, but I had to forcibly keep my hands at my sides. I wanted to wrap them around her throat. Just looking at her makes me sick to my stomach.’

‘What it says about you is that you’re capable of restraining yourself in the face of something that deserving of your hatred. I suppose we can sit back and objectively blame booze, drugs and poverty. We could call her a victim and lift off some of that blame. But I don’t buy it. I don’t think she was ever anything but self-centred and cold and calculating, and what she did to her kids was as sick as it was evil. You know, she looked Lexi in the eyes earlier and told her Vaughn was going to get her and she was going to laugh. What kind of a mother does that for any reason?’

‘And the outcome of your chat?’

‘I know who Lexi’s father is.’

‘What?’

‘That’s why she came back. Wanted to blackmail the father and needed the DNA proof.’

‘She just gave you the name?’

‘One more possession charge and she was back inside.’

‘And you let her walk?’

‘I wanted that name. It might be Lexi’s only chance to ever find out.’

‘Does she want to?’

‘She’s not sure. I’ll hold onto it for her. If she decides she does, it’s here.’

Carrie was signed out and left the station. Finn watched her stop to speak to someone in the media, her expression dripping with contempt, then, when she caught his eye, a hint of triumph. Crap, he thought. Here we go.

‘How do we know she’s not going to head straight back over to Lexi’s?’

‘I still have her drugs and plenty of reasons to lock her up.’

‘Let’s hope that’s enough. You sent me a message, something about a meeting?’

‘With Detective Slavek, yes. He’ll be here any minute—we need the drugs and firearms squad in on this. Is everyone I asked for ready? Sorry, he didn’t give me much notice.’

‘Yep. Julian’s bringing Lexi over now.’ He glanced through the doors, happy to see Carrie Winter seemed to have moved on. ‘Any news on when the underground parking will be up and running again?’

‘None. Oh, here they are and they’ve found Craig.’

‘Yeah, but who’s that?’

The trio were attempting to get past four youths bustling around them.

‘Liars! Pigs! Go, Vaughn!’ the teens called as they jostled Lexi.

‘Can we get some officers out there please!’ Rachael barked.

The door slid open to a riot of noise. Julian walked in close behind Lexi and flinched as something hit him in the back. Immediately two officers dived in and grabbed the kid who’d made the throw. Craig barrelled through behind them and the noise cut off significantly as the door closed.

‘Nice place you’re working out of,’ he commented, his nose wrinkling as Julian removed his jacket, now stained with raw egg.

‘Just gets better and better,’ Lexi muttered, frowning at the gathering being dispersed by the officers. The kid that threw the egg was brought forward.

‘Want to charge him?’ the officer asked.

‘Oh, that would be right!’ the young man sneered. ‘Waste taxpayer dollars charging me for tossing an egg.’

‘The charge is assault,’ Rachael told him coldly.

‘Why not just make me a paedophile too, ’cause I don’t bow down to ya?’

Rachael’s fingers went to her temples. ‘The stupidity is beyond me. Make an example out of him. Charge him. I have important things to do. Craig?’

Finn followed last in the procession and wondered how much worse things could get. Vaughn, the criminals he could manipulate, and now the public. Was there anyone they weren’t going to find themselves fighting?

Once in the taskforce room, it took a few minutes for Rachael to get everyone together and seated, then she introduced Detective Inspector Craig Slavek to the team.

‘Afternoon, everyone,’ Craig said, making himself comfortable on one of the front desks. ‘I wanted to give you an update on an element of your case in person. We believe the men involved in the shooting on the weekend were affected by a drug called flakka. This was found at the Ourimbah residence and our forensic pathologist, Steve Van Zettan, called me a couple of hours ago, confirming positive preliminary toxicology results on the first autopsy. Normally, drugs found in the system of a dealer wouldn’t warrant a face-to-face visit but this is a bit more serious than that.’

‘What’s flakka?’ Neutron asked.

‘Nothing good. It’s similar to bath salts: a manufactured version of an amphetamine-like stimulant in the cathinone class called alpha-pvp. In the sixties it was patented as a central nervous system stimulant for therapeutic purposes but around ten years ago, when the drug turned up in the US under the street name flakka, bad things started happening and it was labelled a schedule 1 substance, meaning of course it was deemed to have no medical utility and posed a high risk of abuse. But it was cheap and nasty and powerful so, for a long time after, you could still jump online and buy bulk quantities from China for next to nothing and it became a very big problem.’

‘Effects?’

‘Initially intense euphoria, increased alertness, focus, sex drive and a surge in energy. But it’s highly addictive and it earned its reputation as “five-dollar insanity” and the “zombie drug” for a reason.’

‘Zombie drug?’ someone called out.

‘It rewires the user’s brain, leaving them with no control over their thoughts and actions. They hallucinate, almost always end up completely paranoid that they’re being chased and, as it triggers the flight or fight response in the brain, it heightens volatility and aggression. Icing on the cake: users feel no pain, often become fearless, and may exhibit superhuman strength.’

‘That doesn’t sound very zombie like,’ Finn said.

‘Flip side, this stuff is ten times stronger than cocaine. Taking too much can lead to the disintegration of muscle fibres, which leads to uncontrolled body movements. Imagine heads slumping below shoulders and limbs rigidly shooting out in different directions or basically any scene out of The Walking Dead.’

‘I can’t imagine there aren’t deaths linked to this drug?’ Rachael asked.

‘Especially considering it’s very good at turning users suicidal. If you don’t kill yourself, you’ll suffer with cardiovascular, respiratory, kidney and psychiatric issues, hyperthermia, muscle breakdown and seizures, and myriad other possibilities. The drug didn’t take off in Australia like it did overseas, but we did have a few cases before it all but disappeared. Having it pop up again is not good news.’

‘So if we come across it, what are we looking for?’

‘It’s generally sold as a white or pink crystal-like powder, which can be snorted, smoked, injected or vaporised.’

‘Vaughn told me he sourced it for those guys,’ Lexi said.

‘Which is why I thought it was worth having this face-to-face. If he’s got any other goons on it and he sends them your way, you need to know what you’re up against.’

‘And if we find where this stuff is being produced,’ Rachael said, ‘it could lead us to Vaughn.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

‘Well, it’s my fault,’ Finn tells me as I climb into the car with him. ‘Blame me.’

‘For what?’

‘I asked the question.’

‘The question?’ I repeat, playing along, though I have no idea what he’s talking about. ‘Surely not.’

‘I did. I wanted to know how much worse it could get. We were tackling Vaughn, the criminals Vaughn threw at us and, on top of that, the public. Was there anyone we weren’t going to find ourselves fighting? Well, in lieu of anyone, we can add another thing. Flakka. You’re welcome.’

I grin at him. ‘Meh, it was getting too easy, anyway. And you forgot my mother.’

‘I wish we could.’ He presses the button on the car display when the screen lights up with Ava’s name. ‘Hi, sweetie.’

‘Hey, Dad, can you be a bit earlier?’

‘I’m almost on my way, just have to drop Lexi home.’

‘Lexi’s with you?’

‘Hi, kid,’ I say.

‘Hi!’ she says excitedly. ‘Dad, can Lexi come and have dinner with us at the shops?’

Finn shoots me an uncomfortable sideways glance. ‘Ah, Lexi’s still a bit stiff and sore from the weekend.’

‘And it’s probably not really appropriate,’ I add, helping him out.

‘But I haven’t seen you in ages!’ Ava whines. ‘I have an art assignment. It’s due tomorrow. Mum can’t help because she’s working late and Louis is working in his study and I’m not supposed to disturb him so Dad’s helping because we missed out on our weekend because of the wedding. But he’s hopeless with crafty stuff! No offence, Dad.’

‘I’m honestly not great either.’

‘Please? I miss you.’

Finn and I exchange helpless glances.

‘It’s fine by me,’ he tells me.

‘Sure,’ I say, relenting.

‘Yay! I’ll see you soon!’

Finn ends the call and sighs. ‘You sure you don’t mind?’

‘No, of course not. How do I say no to that?’ I’m surprised by my admission.

‘Better let Julian know.’ He drives on past my apartment block and makes a turn. ‘You get to pick the restaurant.’

‘Sushi Train,’ I say, sending Julian a text.

‘That’s Ava’s standard pick.’

‘I know. I intend to stay favourite.’

‘Favourite what?’

‘Adult.’

‘Oh, you don’t think I could nudge in slightly ahead of you?’

‘No. No, I don’t.’

‘You’re that competitive?’

‘Do you not know me at all?’

We banter about stupid stuff most of the way to Viv’s. I think we each need some relief from talking about Vaughn and evil parents and drugs and all the other shit going on. Once Ava’s on board, she does enough talking for all of us while we travel, spend an hour shopping for supplies, another at the sushi restaurant and go all the way back to Finn’s place. Once inside, she charges ahead to find his cat, Gizmo, while we unload multiple bags onto the dining table.

After I’ve put everything down, I walk back to the hall to stand and stare at the sad-looking dead thing in the pretty blue pot that had been a housewarming present. ‘What—what happened to the zz plant?’ I ask.

‘Huh? Oh, it’s just …’ He runs a hand along the back of his neck. ‘I’m trying to save it.’

‘That’s not saving it, that’s killing it twice. I told you not too much water and you’re treating it like it’s aquatic!’

He grimaces and studies it. ‘I thought it dried out.’

I pick the pot up and stride back to the kitchen to toss it in the bin.

‘Don’t you dare!’ Finn objects.

‘It’s dead! Why would you want to keep it?’

‘You gave it to me.’

I hesitate, plant hovering over the bin. ‘You want to keep a dead plant as a testament to our friendship?’

I get a cute smile. ‘Survive anything, right?’

‘Got to admire your faith.’ I drain the water from the pot and reluctantly dump the dead plant back inside. The smell isn’t great. ‘I think I’ll pop it outside till it dries out, okay?’

I find a spot for it behind the house where Finn will no doubt forget it. I’m about to re-enter the kitchen when I hear Ava say, ‘Except she shot you, so you started seeing Olivia.’

‘What? That’s not why!’

‘Why then? Because she was a prostitute?’

‘Ava!’ Finn says in a hushed voice.

‘That’s what Ms Dean called her at the P and F meeting and Mum told her to shut up. That Lexi might have had to escort for a while to keep a roof over her head but that Ms Dean was just lucky she’d never found herself in the same situation. That the only way she could have made that sort of money was as an exhibit at the zoo.’

I fight desperately against the snort of laughter. I’m surprised Viv stood up for me. It’s nice. I’m not completely comfortable with Ava knowing about my past, but I guess it was going to come out eventually. And she doesn’t seem remotely bothered.

Finn, however, sounds like he is. ‘How do you know all of this?’

‘I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad,’ she says. ‘You should be with Lexi.’

‘I’m not having this conversation with you!’

‘But—’

‘Anyway, that’s not what Lexi wants!’ he hisses. ‘Now drop it! I mean it!’

Huh? I accidentally bump the door, so I push back through, smile. ‘I think it might do better out there. Uh … everything okay?’ I ask, looking between the two glaring faces.

‘Minor father–daughter disagreement,’ Finn says. ‘Ready for ice cream?’

‘Yep!’ Ava says, then to me: ‘Dad wants to take you to my play and I really want you to come. Can you?’

Oh, she’s good. ‘Play? That might be tricky. Your dad’s seeing someone and—’

‘Oh, Olivia won’t mind, will she, Dad? She’s only met me twice. Briefly. Because she had to. Besides, I want you there. It would mean a lot. Please?’

When did Ava get so manipulative, I wonder, almost choking on the myriad expressions passing over Finn’s face.

‘Let me know when it is and I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise. If I do come, I’ll probably need to bring Cait along.’ I figure that’s a good compromise.

‘That’s okay! I’ll reserve two extra tickets!’ She jumps from her chair. ‘I’ll get the ice cream out.’ She looks way too happy with herself as she pulls a brightly coloured tub from the freezer.

I glance at Finn.

Sorry, he mouths.

I shrug. I’m not the least bit uncomfortable about it, just a bit hung up on their earlier conversation. That part where Ava told Finn he should be with me—ha!—and he said that’s not what I want. No, it’s not what he wants, or even what we want. And he’s right.

‘Lexi! Vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?’ Ava asks.

‘Surprise me.’ I start unloading her poster supplies and spread them out on the table. I don’t want a relationship. But he doesn’t either. Not with me. He’s with Olivia. And even if he wasn’t, I’m not—Am I? Would he?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

‘Come on, bro! Hurry up! Give me a go!’ Bobby complained, bouncing on the spot like an impatient toddler while Eddie pounded away at Sophie.

‘I’m not finished! Go do something up the other end!’

‘Oh, yeah!’

Sophie’s pathetic moan was not much of an objection, but she was beyond much else. Dino thumped his chest like a fucking ape as he kept watch.

The knock on the door catapulted Stewie’s heart into his throat and he closed the video, revealing his uni essay for Architectural History and Theory: Urbanism and the City. ‘Yeah?’

His dad appeared in the doorway and nodded at his laptop. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Slowly.’

Jeff sat on the edge of the bed. Stewie hoped he wouldn’t query the QuickTime icon at the bottom of the screen. Stupid.

‘I guess it’s difficult to focus. Dino’s funeral is set for next Wednesday.’

‘Oh. ’kay. thanks.’

‘Stew, when I told you Bobby’s tox screen came back positive for LSD, you said he’d had a bit of a problem with it, but you never said anything to me because you didn’t want to dob in a mate.’

‘Yeah. So?’

‘So I get it. I’m a cop. He was a mate. And I didn’t bring it up after his suicide because if taking that shit had anything to do with what he did, I didn’t want you getting it in your head that if you’d said anything, it might have made a difference.’

Stewie shrugged. ‘Why would it? He would have done it anyway. He was an adult. Not some kid.’

‘Yeah. Right. But now I get back Dino’s results and guess what? LSD. What’s going on with that? Is Eddie on this shit too? You?’

‘As if!’

‘It’s a reasonable question. You four—’

‘Are adults not fucking children!’ he snapped, feeling the pressure of his father’s direct questioning.

‘So you keep saying. And you’re living in this house so you can finish your degree and make something of yourself,’ Jeff said, his own voice rising. ‘Something that doesn’t involve killing yourself with drugs and alcohol!’

‘You want me to make something of myself, you better let me get back on with it.’ Stewie turned to his screen.

Jeff stood. Stewie could feel his father’s stare for several moments before he spoke.

‘You bring those drugs into this house or I find out you’re doing them, you’re on your own. Understand?’

‘I won’t! Dad …’

‘What?’

‘What did Jacob say about that night Bobby died?’

Some of the anger left Jeff’s face and he sat back down. ‘He was confused about what he saw. He’d had three full-strength beers and he and Aaron had been talking about the Jenny Dixon ghost beforehand. The psychologist said his mind couldn’t cope with finding his brother like that, so it made up a story to protect himself from the truth.’

‘Your mind can do that?’

‘Apparently.’

‘Do you think the psychologist is right?’

‘I think it’s the most plausible explanation, don’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ He laughed hollowly. ‘Yeah, of course.’

‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Jeff got up and hesitated by the door. ‘You can tell me anything. You know that, right? I’m your dad before I’m a cop.’

‘I guess. Why?’

‘Because I know when something’s got you freaked. And something’s got you freaked.’

As soon as the door closed, Stewie brought the video back up. He watched the events unfold, but it didn’t turn him on like it normally would. Anyway, that wasn’t why he was looking. Someone was messing with them. Someone else had to have been there. But he watched on until it had all unfolded. There was no one.

He stared sightlessly out the window. Maybe he was wrong. Bobby and Dino … a guilty conscience and a bad trip? Pfft. Bobby and a guilty conscience? More like what Eddie said, that new drug coulda just messed with his head too much. Not everyone could handle it. Sucked, but it is what it is.

His gaze dropped to his top drawer. His gear was stuffed in a bundled pair of socks. Now his dad was onto them he supposed he’d better be more careful. He wouldn’t put it past the old prick to rummage through his shit when he wasn’t home.

He removed the SD card from his laptop. He didn’t want to destroy it, but he wasn’t leaving it around. He tucked it into his wallet. He’d figure something out later. But what now? He was restless. Maybe a hit would make him feel better. He hadn’t been in the mood to do anything since Dino went and killed himself. Eddie had been quiet too; Stewie hadn’t heard anything from him for a couple of days. It hadn’t bothered him, but now he thought about it, what was the go with that? He sent him a quick message.

Hey bro, what’s happening?

Lying low while this shit blows over, what do you think?

Not sure what to say, he sent him a thumbs up and tossed the phone back on the bed. May as well have a shower, get the fucking essay finished.

Aaron burst into his room. ‘Stew, do you have a—’

‘Fuck, you little shit! Knock!’

‘Yeah, yeah. I need a black pen.’

‘I don’t have one.’

‘Yeah, you do, there’s one right there.’ He pointed to the desk.

‘I don’t have one you can borrow.’

Aaron’s face fell. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I said so! Get lost!’

‘You’re such an arsehole!’

He took a threatening step towards his little brother. ‘What’d you call me?’

‘An arsehole! Just like Bobby and Dino were. Better watch out! Jenny Dixon’ll get you too!’

He lunged but Aaron was already legging it.

‘Daaaad!’

Stewie slammed his door shut and scowled at it. ‘Fucking little shit.’

In a fit of temper, he reefed off his clothes and turned on the shower in his ensuite. Comes in here, stirs up shit then runs and dobs like a baby. He and Jacob were always stirring up shit. Could’ve caused a whole lot more over that Sophie stuff if they’d gotten their hands on the video before he had. Probably deserved to get the shit scared out of them. If he hadn’t been so bummed over Bobby, he would have enjoyed seeing Aaron throwing his guts up after chugging all that beer. Kid had had a rough few hours and gotten some serious consequences from Dad for a change. That thought and a few minutes under the shower cooled Stewie’s temper and he got out, dried himself off. That’s when he noticed the message in the steamed-up mirror.

Die.

It took him a moment before he figured it out. Oh, ha ha! Right. He was gonna twist Aaron’s teeny fucking testicles off. That mirror shit was like the standard jump scare from every horror movie ever.

‘Come up with something more original next time, dipshit,’ he muttered.

He gripped the door handle and turned it. Nothing happened. He tried again. It didn’t budge. He banged on the door. ‘If you’re out there, you’d want to run!’ He tried again, put his shoulder behind it, but this time it opened easily, sending him sprawling into his room and onto the floor.

‘Fuuuccckkk!’ He jumped to his feet and spun around in a full circle. The bedroom door was closed so he pulled it open, looked up and down the empty hallway. He opened Aaron’s door. Not there. Not in Dad’s room either, or the study. If Aaron had any sense, he’d found Dad and was playing it safe. But he couldn’t play it safe forever.

Stewie had an idea. He’d pretend he hadn’t seen the writing, take the pen, hand it over, pretend he’d been kidding around. Soon as Aaron felt safe and made for his room, he’d pummel the little bastard.

He went back into the bedroom to grab the pen. Stopped when he heard voices.

Was that Bobby? His laptop was open. Had he left it open? He spun it around to check, saw the video running. His blood iced over. Hadn’t he put the SD card into his wallet? He scrambled to stop it. He closed the window with trembling fingers, stumbled back at the message in big red letters that replaced it on the screen.

DIE

He fell back against the wall, arms cradling his head. This is what Bobby had been talking about. And Dino. Now it was happening to him. Fuck. Fuck. Why?

‘Stewie?’ Aaron asked tentatively from the doorway.

Stewie pounced, grabbing his brother by the shirt and shaking him. ‘You did this, didn’t you! This was you!’

‘Let me go!’

‘I’m going to hammer you into the fucking ground!’

‘Do what? Let me go!’

‘Stewart!’ Jeff stepped in to drag the two apart. ‘What is going on!’

‘He wrote that shit on my laptop! And on the mirror in the bathroom! He said Jenny Dixon was going to come after me like she did Bobby and Dino!’

‘I only said that ’cause you were being mean!’ Aaron objected. ‘But I didn’t write anything anywhere!’

‘Write what?’ Jeff said. ‘Let me see.’

Stewie had another terrified moment because the video was still minimised on screen, the card still in the laptop. ‘I … closed it already. It said “DIE”. Check the mirror.’

As his father and brother went into the bathroom, Stewie closed the laptop and removed the card, slipping it into his pocket.

‘I can’t see anything,’ Jeff said, looking him up and down with suspicion. ‘I want you to tell me the truth. Have you taken any drugs?’

‘What? No!’

‘Your behaviour points to it. Acting irrationally, attacking your brother like that. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip this room apart right now!’

More panic, because the drugs were still in his top drawer. ‘I don’t have any. Fuck, Dad, I’ll take a drug test right now! I’m not on anything! You got the work car? Go get one of those roadside ones! I swear I’m clean!’

Jeff followed Stewie’s line of sight to the drawer and pulled it right out of its runners and tossed it on the bed.

‘What are you doing? Stop!’

With the practised eye of a seasoned cop, Jeff found what he was looking for in seconds.

He held the packet up, expression furious. ‘Start talking.’

* * *

‘He found the drugs,’ Stewie told Eddie a couple of hours later. He’d tossed and turned in his room, dreading the conversation, decided it was best to get it done—and not anywhere it could be overheard. So he’d driven himself to Eddie’s place. But not without a plan.

Eddie stilled, eyes turning mean. ‘What did you tell him?’

‘What was I supposed to say?’

‘You told him they came from me!’

‘He guessed!’

Eddie threw his hands in the air and walked a few steps away, came back swinging. The fist hit Stewie square in the jaw, sent him sprawling.

‘You fucking moron!’

He got back up as far as his hands and knees, tested his jaw. ‘Something else happened.’

‘Oh, I can’t wait for this! What?’

‘That Jenny Dixon shit. There’s something to it. I swe—’

The kick made contact with his ribs, winding him, leaving them on fire.

‘You’re as fucking whacked out as the other two were!’

‘They were your mates!’

‘You were supposed to be, too! But you ratted me out! Now you’re fucking dead!’

When Eddie came at him again, Stewie shoved him back. ‘You’re not listening! Jenny Dixon—’

‘Is total bullshit!’

‘It’s not!’

Eddie swung again and Stewie got one back. Eddie was stronger, faster, but Stewie put up a decent fight. Blow for blow, he almost, almost, matched him. It was only when Eddie flicked open his knife that Stewie knew he had to play his ace.

‘You really gonna do this?’

Eddie staggered a bit, swiping at his jaw. ‘You ratted. If I don’t end it now, I’ll only get told to later.’

‘Then I’ve got nothing to lose,’ Stewie said, puffing. ‘But you do.’

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘I’ve scheduled a post to go up on social media.’

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. ‘What?’

‘Roughly thirty seconds of a certain video. Starring you.’

‘You kept it! You were supposed to fucking destroy it!’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t!’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘So I’ll send you a copy.’

‘I’ll figure it out. Shut it down.’

‘On several made-up accounts? I’ve tagged people. The right people. And should you somehow fuck all that up, there’s still the hard copy.’

Eddie’s eyes bulged, his face flooded red as his grip tightened on the blade. ‘You fucking prick!’

‘I can always take it down. Long as I’m alive. I’d never do something like that … to a mate.’ He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, dusted himself off and wondered if there was anything that didn’t hurt. ‘Best we can do is stay out of each other’s way.’

He limped away, wondering if Eddie would call his bluff and come at him anyway. For the first time, he was grateful for Jacob and Aaron and that stupid video camera.

When he was safely back on the road, he started thinking about where to hide the SD card until everything settled down.

By the time he got home, he had an idea. It scared the shit out of him, but not as much as the figure he was to repeatedly catch glimpses of over the next few days. And that same message he saw everywhere.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tuesday, October 17

‘Morning,’ Finn said, walking into the taskforce room with Lexi. When all he got from Linc was a grunt, he added, ‘Busy?’

‘Research. This is nuts!’

‘What are you watching?’ Lexi asked.

Linc turned the screen around to show CCTV of some parked cars, then a naked guy streaking across the carpark and charging headfirst into a car’s rear window. It shatters and he falls to the ground, but he’s not dead, not even knocked out. He gets up and flings himself onto a car gunning it out of the carpark, no doubt trying to avoid the lunatic, only to be tossed off the bonnet and flung violently onto the ground where, yet again, he gets up and takes off at full speed.

‘How—how is that possible?’ Lexi asked.

‘Welcome to the world of flakka,’ Linc replied.

Finn sat, fascinated. ‘Any others?’

‘Oh, yeah. Not of the guy that ate his neighbour’s face or the one that decided to have sex with a tree when officers attempted to arrest him, but have a go at zombie woman.’

‘Okay, that’s beyond disturbing,’ Lexi said after watching the woman’s body contort unnaturally for only a few seconds. ‘I see that on the street, I’m not arresting it, I’m legging it to make sure I don’t get bitten. How do you kill a zombie, anyway?’

‘I think you have to destroy its brain,’ Linc said.

Finn took one more critical look at the video. ‘By the looks of things, that’s not enough.’

Rachael leant over Lexi’s shoulder. ‘What is that?’

‘Flakka,’ Linc said.

‘Ah, well, we’re probably due an apocalypse. Morning,’ Rachael said as Olivia and Cass walked in. He wondered at the cool glance Olivia levelled at him and Lexi before Rachael continued. ‘Good morning, everyone. A bit of good news to start. Twenty-four arrests in five countries have been made so far on Vaughn’s dark web site, the Spider’s Web. That’s a lot of paedophiles off the streets.’

That earned some woots and claps.

When the cheering died down, she continued, ‘I know there’s a lot going on and I wanted to bring everyone back for a moment to Phillip Brookes. This man is the key to figuring out this game of Vaughn’s, so just a reminder to keep him forefront in our minds at all stages of this investigation, no matter how fragmented it becomes. Somehow everything ties back to the officer we know was responsible for Vaughn’s arrest over the botched robbery of a chemist in 2004 while Vaughn was working for the Hamill family.

‘Vaughn told Lexi he’d harboured aspirations of becoming Hamill one day. Phillip Brookes took that all away. But Vaughn also told Lexi that he still wants that title, wants that kingpin, drug lord status, and his contact with the two ex-Hamill thugs who were killed on Saturday night, as well as his ability to hunt down flakka, suggests he hasn’t lost his connections to that world. Could there be something here we can use to find him?

‘We have a few members of our team collaborating with the drugs and firearms squad this morning on the flakka issue and how that might assist us in gaining a possible lead on Vaughn’s whereabouts, but I’d like everyone to keep that connection in mind.

‘Lexi, where are we with Rodney Brookes and Donald Thompson? Any progress with their devices?’

‘Nothing exciting,’ Lexi said, sitting straighter. ‘Both men considered their loved ones victims of crime and were involved with online forums. There’s evidence Brookes had at some point accessed or had access to the dark web, but there’s no TOR browser or VPN on Thompson’s laptop. He may have another, but I just don’t know. If Vaughn is responsible for the Brookes and Waverley murders, I believe it has to be through having personally convinced these men to commit the crimes. He’s playing victim in the media and admitted he’s talking to everyone that will listen, and we know how manipulative he can be, but as yet, I haven’t been able to find a trace of any messages between the two perpetrators or anyone discussing the idea of committing the murders. I’ve been flagging anyone they’ve been chatting with online, especially anyone making inflammatory comments, contacting hosts and digging into those posters’ real identities, seeing if Brookes and Thompson have been chatting to any in common. But it’s a slow process. Nothing has jumped out at me.’

‘Okay. Unless anyone has anything else to raise? No? Thanks, everyone.’

Finn got up and was pulled aside by Olivia as he walked out.

‘Finn, wait.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Can we talk for a second?’

‘Sure.’ He followed her into a spare office and leant against the desk. ‘What is it?’

‘Is there any reason we haven’t really talked since the wedding?’

‘Time? Opportunity? What do you want to talk about?’

‘I feel like something’s up.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. ‘I don’t really want to discuss it here. Come over after work, we’ll talk at my place.’

Her face darkened. ‘Is this about Lexi?’

What? ‘Why would it be about Lexi?’

‘Because she went home with you last night!’

Guess that explained the look they’d copped earlier. He wasn’t sure how Olivia knew that but he didn’t like her tone. ‘Ah, I see. Right. We’re sneaking around having a fling behind your back.’

‘Right, because it’s difficult not to jump to other conclusions when you don’t tell me what’s going on.’

The unfairness of that statement spiked his temper. ‘Oh, you’re struggling with that? Because I’ve tried very hard to do everything but jump to conclusions lately. When you won’t answer your phone in front of me, when you walk away to send text messages, when your friend tells me you weren’t going to mention him till “it” was a done deal. And by the way, had you gotten that reference from Rachael you’d come here fishing for? Not one conclusion have I jumped to, Olivia,’ he said, watching her flinch, ‘but I have been feeling like it’s past time I’m owed an explanation, because I don’t appreciate being treated like an idiot or a convenient stepping stone to my aunt.’

He decided the objection on her face was genuine. ‘You’re not, and have never been, that. I don’t need a human catapult. I’m more than capable of getting what I want on my own!’

‘So what do you want?’ he asked, tossing out his arms at his sides. ‘What’s the big secret?’

She took a couple of calming breaths and stared into space as though gathering her thoughts before she began. ‘I applied for a position as an Operational Psychologist with the AFP Behavioural Science Team in Canberra before applying for this post. I did an interview and only just missed out. Jeremy contacted me recently to say the applicant that got the position was pregnant and considering whether to go on maternity or give up the role entirely. I knew I was second or third in line and there was a chance I’d get a phone call. But the other person in the running is very well connected. One of the reasons I chose this position was because I knew working with Rachael was an unmissable opportunity. To have a letter of recommendation on file from Inspector Langley is gold no matter what else you apply for. In this instance, Jeremy was convinced Rachael’s connections through the Spider case with the federal police would get me across the line.

‘So, yes, I was hoping she’d be happy to give me a reference if the job became available. That had nothing at all to do with us. Jeremy’s been keeping me updated and it turns out this woman has just given her six weeks’ notice, but she’d like to leave sooner so the job is up for grabs. They need someone to fill in while they go through the whole process of advertising and interviewing again, and whoever they take on board for that has a very good chance, he believes, of sticking in the position, so he’s been trying to get me to commit to the temporary role, but he’s pushing for an answer.’

‘And have you given him one?’

‘No. I was worried it might interfere with this case. No matter what he thinks, abandoning my position on this team would not look good for any reason.’

‘Oh, is that why?’

‘And because of us. But I was hoping we could have discussed the possibility of me taking the position at an appropriate time. Whether we could make it work long distance or … if you might come with me.’

‘And you couldn’t have been open and honest about this when you were first approached about the job?’

‘I wasn’t sure if it was all going to fall into place. I didn’t want to place any unnecessary strain on us without cause.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I’m sorry, Finn. Will you … at least think about it?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think about it.’

Finn stopped on his way out the door. ‘Oh, and Ava wanted to see Lexi. They’re close. I was dropping Lexi home when Ava called and asked if Lexi would help her with her project for a couple of hours. They haven’t seen each other in ages.’

‘Ava wanted to see her? Oh.’

‘Lexi’s a big part of Ava’s life. I’m not going to stop them seeing each other, and I can’t be in a relationship without trust. Not again.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

There are quite a few people gathered when we pull up in the carpark of the footy club for the meeting about the recent deaths of Bobby and Dino. The sun’s dipped low, casting a warm glow across the field, and Cait immediately jumps out in search of her friends.

‘You sure you really feel like doing this?’ Linc asks.

‘Yep,’ I tell him, looking around. ‘Cait wanted to come—she and her friends are using the meeting as an excuse for a social event and I want to keep up with what’s going on officially with these deaths because I’m sure as hell not getting much out of Cait. Besides, Merv asked you to be here so I have my chaperone … so why not? But fair warning, if anyone decides to blow us up, run us over or mob us, I’m just gonna shoot them. You good with that?’

‘Sounds fair. There’s Merv with Jeff.’

I follow his line of sight and spot the policeman engaged in conversation with Merv. Jeff’s looking a bit haggard. We head in their general direction, sidestepping a bunch of kids running past with a footy. Through the clubhouse doors I can see lines of chairs have been set up.

‘You want a cold drink?’ Linc asks.

‘Wouldn’t mind actually. Thanks.’

He snags us one each and we lean against the clubhouse and watch the goings-on.

‘So tell me more about Uncle Merv,’ I ask, mostly for the sake of conversation.

‘Uncle Merv is how I became involved with footy. I know it’s hard to believe.’ He sends me a wicked grin. ‘But I was a total little troublemaker as a kid. If there was mischief, I was in it, often causing it. Got pulled into sport and didn’t have as much free time to mess up.’

A woman steps out of a dark-coloured Mercedes and scans the surroundings. I recognise her as the one that ran interference with Jim the other day. Seeming to spot what she’s looking for, she moves towards us.

‘Troublemaker, huh?’ I say. ‘So how’d you end up a cop?’

‘A couple of local police used to come help out with training, tell stories, made the job sound exciting. Back then, I’d do anything for an adrenaline rush. Decided I’d like to carry a gun and chase bad guys.’

‘Great reason.’

I see Jeff turn and look over his shoulder and assume the woman must have called out to him. He excuses himself from Merv and, face taking on a set expression, meets her halfway.

‘Yeah, well, I was a teenage boy with a chip on my shoulder.’

‘Mind if I ask why?’

He thinks about that. ‘Growing up, I didn’t really know where I fit. All Mum’s mob wanted me to learn about my heritage, all Dad’s side wanted me to ignore it. When Mum and Dad split, it was a constant tug of war between homes. On top of that, I got picked on at school, called a few names, that sort of thing. I was a bit of a weedy kid. All legs. Good at running but not fighting. That’s mostly how I avoided trouble—and the cops—until I started playing league.’

‘And now you’re this really hot, really built cop. You should go to a school reunion. Show off.’

He grins into his can of Pepsi. ‘Coming from anyone else, I’d assume that was a pick-up line.’

‘Coming from anyone else, it probably would be,’ I say, watching the conversation between Jeff and the woman become heated. ‘I’m just calling it like I see it.’

‘I like that about you.’

‘This time, maybe. You know who that is?’ I ask, jerking my chin at Jeff and the woman.

‘Mmm. Heather Hill, Eddie’s grandmother.’

‘Looks like a serious conversation.’

‘It does.’

My attention is drawn away by a raised voice and drunken swearing. ‘Oh good, look who’s here,’ I say, spotting Jim Walker.

‘In fine form, too,’ Linc mutters. ‘Jeff warned me he was planning on turning up.’

Jim untangles himself from a couple of men trying to halt his progress and sneers at Merv, ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you!’

Merv shakes his head, throws a hand out in disgust and walks away. Again, Jim’s waylaid by onlookers.

‘I might go have a chat,’ Linc says.

‘Okay. I want to go find Cait. Remind her she’s supposed to stay in sight.’

‘Make sure you do.’

I find Cait and Lizzy talking to Aaron and a couple of other younger boys.

‘Hi,’ I say. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ Aaron says. He looks at his mates and they dash away. I raise an eyebrow at Cait.

‘We just got the story of what Jacob saw the night Bobby died. Remind me to fill you in. It’s freaky as shit.’

‘Okay. For now, how about you get back over where I can see you.’ I catch the look on her face before she masks it. ‘I know, I know, but it’s almost dark and you get it, right?’

‘Yeah,’ she huffs, and she and Lizzy head for the clubhouse.

When we get back, people are starting to find seats.

Linc waves me over. ‘I found out what all that crap was about last time we saw Jim.’

‘Oh, do tell.’

‘Bobby got booted out of his spot in the reps a couple of years back by a cracker of a player who happens to be Indigenous. Jim swears blind it was a political decision, and he’d been determined to get him back in ever since. Looked like he had a shot too. Scouts were sniffing around at the beginning of last season, but Merv introduced a couple of boys to the team: Tom and Leo—also Indigenous, also good players. Too good for Jim’s liking. Bobby was the star of the show in this team, then suddenly he wasn’t. Leo got picked up, Bobby didn’t. Once again, in Jim’s eyes, it was purely political. There was nothing more to it than jealousy.

‘But since Bobby’s died, he’s been drinking more, going further and further off the rails. His wife’s had enough and taken Jacob to stay with family. With no one else to blame, now it’s all Merv’s fault, because he’s obviously biased and on some hate mission against the white kids. The bitterness and the alcohol are destroying him. According to Jeff, he doesn’t talk much sense half the time anymore, even when he’s sober.’

‘So why’s he here?’

‘To stir up enough hate to get Merv removed. To make sure he never gets to coach Jacob.’

‘But no one’s here to make coaching decisions.’

‘I don’t think that’s occurred to him. Jim’s touting Jacob as the next superstar. Better even than his brother. That’s about all his mind can hold onto at the moment.’

‘That’s sad and sick at the same time.’

‘I also found out he has six priors for assault. He has a long history of intoxication and solving problems with his fists or whatever he can pick up and hit someone with. Be ready if he starts anything. This behaviour is not purely grief, so don’t feel too sorry for him. He’s an all-round general idiot and always has been.’

‘Got it.’ I keep an eye on Jim as everyone files into the clubhouse and someone guides him to a seat at the front. Jim sits and folds his arms, glaring at Merv with smug hatred as though he has some unknown upper hand.

Jeff moves to the front and gets everyone’s attention. There’s some milling, hushing and finding of seats and then Jeff thanks everyone for coming before launching into a general spiel on the devastation of the loss of the two young lives, of how important it is that everyone rally together at such a difficult time and that everyone should remember that what each family, each team member needs is support and understanding. He talks about remembering what it’s like to be young, to feel invincible, to want to push limits, experiment, to fit in, deal with peer pressure, expectation, the everyday trials of young adulthood. But, he goes on to say, that part of that transition from teen to adult involves making decisions that can have lifelong impacts. That can be dangerous, life-threatening, fatal. He talks about the value of making wise decisions, even if they’re not popular. To think about a year from now, a decade, two, where they want to be. How those decisions could affect the chances of those wishes becoming realities.

I can see the majority of the teens starting to zone out, though Mrs Hill seems intent on every word. I’m surprised Jeff doesn’t fumble under the intensity of her stare.

When Jeff’s finished, a hand shoots up and a parent asks if drugs or alcohol were involved in either boy’s deaths.

I’m a bit surprised when Jeff hesitates over the question until he says, ‘In order to deter other teens from making the same mistake, Dino’s family is okay with me letting you know that, yes, there was alcohol in his system at the time of the accident.’

‘Right, let’s move on!’ Jim calls out. ‘Next item on the agenda!’

‘There are no more items on the agenda, Jim,’ Jeff says. ‘We’re here to discuss our kids.’

‘And so we shall! Things like, fairness in the coaching system. How they’re going to progress if they’re not the right skin tone! Who’s with me?’

‘Go home, Jim!’ someone calls out.

Jim gets to his feet. ‘Well, Brock?’ he asks, singling out a man in a team jersey in the second row. ‘You were happy enough to whinge on the phone. Lost your tongue?’

‘Not the time, mate,’ Brock says.

‘Chicken shit,’ Jim throws back. ‘Frankie! My man! Come up here! Let’s get this done.’

People start to get up, but it’s to leave. Jeff moves in, speaks to Jim, walks him away.

‘He’s not getting away with it!’ Jim shouts, jostling against Jeff. ‘Protected fucking species! That’s what they think they are. Don’t be too sure though, Merv!’ He rips his arm from Jeff’s grip but stalks off in the direction of the carpark, muttering to himself and shouting the odd vile comment over his shoulder.

‘Hey.’

I look around and see Harry has appeared beside me.

‘Hey, Harry. You okay?’

He gives me a one-shoulder shrug. ‘Get sick of it, you know? I don’t get why he has to be like that. ’Specially to Uncle Merv.’

‘Because he’s a miserable old man who was never quite good enough and needs to blame the world for it.’

‘Not the world. Just us.’

‘Because he hates what you are.’

‘Yeah. Indigenous.’

‘Nothing to do with it. Your uncle Linc is hot and smart and holds a position of power, so Jim hates him. You’re a young, seriously cute, highly talented footy player. So he hates you. The rest is just an excuse.’

A few of his mates are gathering around. Harry’s grin is huge as he looks at his feet. ‘Cut it out.’

‘Serious! If Merv or Linc or you or Leo or anyone who’d got in his way had been blond, blue-eyed Scandinavians, Jim would have hated blond, blue-eyed Scandinavians. Anything he’s not, any excuse he can come up with to pick on? He’ll do it. Because he’s a small-minded has-been fuckwit who feels better by making everyone else feel like shit. That’s as pathetic as it gets. Why would you care what some small-minded has-been pathetic fuckwit thinks, when you’re all of that good stuff?’

‘Oh, seriously!’ Cait says, coming up behind me. ‘Stop! His ego’s going to explode and I was gonna ask him out!’

Harry’s eyes bulge as his mates begin the expected teasing. ‘Huh?’

Cait shrugs. ‘Yeah. If you want.’

‘Uh …’

I desperately want to high five her timing, but I settle for a wink and leave them to it.

‘What was that?’ Linc asks, returning.

‘Oh, Cait’s had her eye on Harry for a while. I think she just found the perfect moment to ask him out.’

Linc grinned. ‘That will go down well.’

‘Really? ’Cause he kinda liked it when I told him he was cute. I thought I was in with a chance.’

‘You keeping us all on a string?’

‘And I repeat, just calling it like it is. We ready to head off?’

‘Yeah, I reckon. Jeff!’ he says, snagging him as he walks past. ‘That was a good talk tonight. We’re going.’

‘Right, thanks for coming. Hopefully some of it sank in. Maybe.’

‘Out of curiosity, what was the blood alcohol on Dino?’

‘Can’t remember, not low.’

‘But no drugs?’ I ask.

‘No. Why?’ he asks sharply.

‘Oh … no reason.’ I’d thought maybe there was some of that going on, with Cait having been so evasive. Maybe I owe her an apology. ‘Guess I just jumped to the worst-case scenario.’

‘Easy to do,’ he says with a nod. ‘Drive safe.’

I text Cait and get a reply: 5 mins?

I sigh. Fine. ‘She’s coming in five,’ I tell Linc.

He grins. ‘Ah, young love.’

A figure slips by us at the edge of the trees. Jeff’s son, Stewie.

‘Stay here and wait for Cait. I’ll be right back.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Shh.’

‘Lexi! You shouldn’t—’

‘When has that ever stopped me?’ I reply with a smirk before jogging to catch up to Stewie, who has disappeared into the cemetery on the other side of the road. I watch him weave between the headstones until he finds what he’s looking for and ducks down. What is he doing in there?

Minutes tick by as I watch for any movement from Stewie’s direction. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I see him stand up and start heading back towards me. I quickly step behind a tree, not wanting to be caught spying. But Stewie’s too focused on getting back to notice anything.

Fuck it. I need to know. I wait for a car to cruise past then sprint across the road in the direction I saw Stewie come from. I hear voices, spot some teens through the trees. Popular spot. What grave was it? Now I’m here, I can’t be sure. There’s a lot of headstones and by the look of them, they’ve been here a long time. Not creepy at all, I tell myself, and just about jump out of my skin when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Finn. Shit.

‘Yeah?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Why?’ I ask slowly.

‘Because I just called Linc and for some reason, though you’re supposed to be with him, he couldn’t seem to put you on the phone.’

‘Oh, sorry, Dad.’ Could this be the grave? Kinda looks like the right spot. ‘Hold on.’ I put my phone down to wipe at a grave and a couple of those teens I’d heard before materialise behind me.

‘Oh, shit you scared us!’ one of the girls says.

I scared them? They need to spend a couple of weeks playing games with a serial killer then be snuck up on in a graveyard.

‘What are you doing?’ the other one asks suspiciously.

Oh, why the fuck not? I owe them.

‘Cleaning my headstone. The family never visit anymore.’

‘Wait, wh—’ They look at each other and leg it.

I snuffle out a laugh.

‘Lexi!’ I hear and pick the phone back up.

‘What? I thought they were going to stand there all bug-eyed forever.’

‘Who?’

‘Random people wandering the cemetery.’

‘You’re in a cemetery … cleaning your headstone?’

‘Should have seen them run.’

He sighs. ‘You need to stop talking to weirdos.’

‘Oh, but Finn, you’re one of the few people I don’t hate!’

‘What are you doing in a cemetery?’

‘Trying to figure out why someone was sneaking around over here.’

‘I’m sending Linc across.’

‘No need. I have no idea which grave I’m looking for or why. I’m on my way back. Bye, Finn.’

‘Hey, it was her!’ I hear as I’m nearly back to the car. The girls from the cemetery.

‘Did you pretend to be a ghost?’ I’m asked by a guy leading the pair towards me.

‘Yeah, boo,’ I say, and keep walking. Linc’s face, when I reach him and Cait at the car, is priceless.

‘I think Finn might be psychic. His timing is incredible.’

‘Not your fault,’ I tell him. ‘What did he want, anyway? We never got past the “what the hell are you doing?” part.’

‘You know what? Neither did we. Huh.’

‘So, what were you doing?’ Cait asks as we drive away.

‘Any reason you can think of Stewie would be visiting a grave tonight?’

‘Not unless he was visiting Bobby’s.’

‘Where is that?’

‘Right-hand side, near the carpark.’

‘Nup. Not there.’

‘Then no clue. I’m a bit surprised he’d dare venture in there at all.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Word is Jenny Dixon’s been giving him a hard time.’

‘Oh, please,’ Linc mutters.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

‘Apparently he totally freaked out the other night, had a go at Aaron and accused him of messing with him, writing stuff on mirrors or something. Only Aaron said he didn’t do it. He said ever since then, Stewie’s been jumpy and weird. He caught him looking up Jenny Dixon stuff online. Won’t go into a dark room and is sleeping with his door open and a light on. He’s nearly twenty, for fuck’s sake.’

‘That’s what Bobby did, right? Went all paranoid that this ghost was out to get him.’

‘Yeah … and Dino too.’

‘And look how that turned out.’ I glance at Linc. ‘Maybe someone should be taking this more seriously.’

‘What do you suggest we do, call Ghostbusters?’

‘Ha. I mean look into this. Unless this is some sort of mass hysteria, there could be something to it. Would it hurt to talk to Stewie? Talk to Jacob? See what they have to say?’

‘Us? Why?’

‘What if it wasn’t a ghost?’

‘You think a skinny girl in a white dress with messed-up hair strung a six-foot-two, hundred-kilo, eighteen-year-old football player up by the neck and forced him off a fallen tree, then stole a kid’s phone and sat around humming tunes waiting to be found?’

‘Okay, that does sound kind of stupid.’

‘No more stupid than Jenny Dixon causing a car crash. Besides, what would have these guys all freaked out? Jenny Dixon was a spirit set on revenge for a gang rape. There’s no evidence of anything like that having happened. Is there?’

CHAPTER THIRTY

Wednesday, October 18

‘Some of the press were confused by what I was saying last week,’ Olivia told Rachael at the end of the morning taskforce meeting, ‘so for tomorrow I’ve come up with a simple Venn diagram to display the overlapping factors contributing to Vaughn’s psychopathic behaviour. These circles represent different influences, like genetic predisposition, environmental factors, neurological characteristics, social influences and other relevant aspects to simplify it for them. You want to really stretch this out, so I’ll take some points from this circle first, focus on covering Vaughn’s early life, his family experiences, the events that initially shaped his character. Start from the very beginning and progress in small steps from there.’

‘Thanks, Olivia. That will be great.’

Finn stretched as Rachael dismissed everyone. He heard Linc say to Lexi, ‘I ran that query past Jeff for you. The one you thought we should look into?’

‘Oh, that one,’ Lexi said, relaxing back in her seat. ‘And?’

‘He said Jacob’s psychologist is calling Jacob’s recollection of events that night a false memory. Said it’s not uncommon.’

‘False memory? What is that?’

‘In traumatised kids?’ Olivia had stood to leave but instead hovered.

‘You know about it?’ Linc asked.

‘Of course. It’s when the child says they saw one thing but actually witnessed something different. There’s a number of reasons for it. It’s generally a coping mechanism, where the child’s mind alters or distorts the actual memory due to whatever trauma is experienced. Children might recall events in a way that feels less threatening or upsetting, creating a false memory that is less distressing than the actual experience.’

‘Sounds plausible,’ Linc said. ‘What else?’

She perched on the desk, warming to her subject. ‘It can also be a result of external influences, such as leading questions from adults, therapy techniques, or repeated retellings of the event inadvertently implanting false details or distorting the child’s original memory.’

‘Probably not so much,’ Lexi said, but to Linc, not Olivia, Finn noted. There was an underlying tension there his discussion with Olivia yesterday didn’t seem to have alleviated.

‘Memories, especially in children, can be highly malleable and susceptible to suggestion. Trauma can further impact the accuracy of memory retrieval, leading to confusion or mixing of details. Trauma can also fragment memories, making it challenging for children to accurately recall specific details. This fragmentation might lead to inconsistencies or inaccuracies in their recollection.’

‘But straight away?’ Lexi asked.

‘Sometimes. Addressing false memories in traumatised children requires specialised approaches by trained professionals using trauma-focused therapy to help children navigate their memories in a safe environment while minimising the risk of further distorting or creating false memories. But if you’re thinking of playing psych—’

‘I was just asking.’

‘Good, because your credibility isn’t looking all that great this morning after social media reported you were hiding behind headstones scaring teenagers last night.’

Lexi and Linc exchanged grins.

‘What’s this about?’ Rachael asked.

Lexi sighed. ‘I was looking into what’s going on with those teens and a couple of them followed me into the cemetery. They were bugging me.’

‘You don’t have enough to worry about?’ Rachael asked in disbelief.

‘The whole world doesn’t revolve around Vaughn!’ she said, much more seriously. ‘Something very wrong is going on in that community and everyone seems to be content to write it off as a dumb teenage tragedy. I’ll look into it myself if no one else will, but I’d actually really like to run some of the circumstances by you. Get your opinion.’

‘Okay, but we have a press conference to prepare for right now.’

‘It’s just another update.’

‘She says like it’s no big deal,’ Olivia said to the ceiling.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Lexi said, ‘but could our resident psychologist please explain for us plebs when eye rolling at a colleague became an acceptable method of in-office communication?’

‘Oh I’m sorry,’ Olivia fired back, ‘and maybe it’s my ego talking, but I think you should stop messing around with drunk teenagers, take a better look at my diagram and remind yourself who you’re dealing with!’

Lexi’s eyes flashed. ‘I don’t need you or a damn drawing to remind me who I’m dealing with! I know his background, his motivation, his methods, his game and his goal. I know he’ll stop at nothing to win, what he’s capable of doing and that there’s no low he won’t stoop to in order to get what he wants. All I need is victim five. Can you deliver one of your omniscient, AI-simulated solutions to that one? Because otherwise, I’m not really sure why you’re still here.’

Olivia’s cheeks flushed bright red. ‘I’m here because—’

‘Save it!’ Lexi snapped, walking away.

‘Where are you going?’ Rachael called after her.

‘I need a coffee.’

‘Lexi! We don’t have time—’ Olivia began.

‘Let her calm down,’ Finn said. ‘She won’t be long.’

‘You’re so sure of that?’

He shrugged. ‘I know Lexi.’

Olivia’s eyes flashed. ‘Yeah. I’m aware.’

He exhaled slowly and watched her stalk away, before looking at Rachael. ‘I took Lexi back to spend some time with Ava last night and Olivia all but accused me of having an affair. No idea about the ego comment though.’

‘After the last press conference, Lexi accused her of having an ego the size of Vaughn’s.’

‘She did what? Do you … think Lexi’s herself?’

‘I think she’s been remarkably controlled, at least on the surface, up to this point. But maybe some cracks are beginning to appear. She won’t admit it, probably won’t even acknowledge it, but this case has to be getting to her. The longer it goes on, the worse it’s going to get. She’s got Vaughn, her mother, the media and a decent chunk of the unhinged sector of the public to contend with, and on top of that, this rubbish with Cait and the dead teens. It’s the last thing any of us need, but I think we’re going to have to listen to her on that, because I know she’ll go it alone otherwise. Hopefully we can resolve whatever it is quickly and give her one less headache.’

‘Agreed.’

‘You should go down to the café. I don’t think Julian knows she’s taken off.’

‘She’s not there,’ he guessed. If the look on her face had been anything to go by, she was headed for her punching bag again.

‘Sorry?’

‘I’ll message the cops on her house. Assuming all is well, give her thirty minutes and then I’ll go get her. Trust me,’ he said at Rachael’s puzzled look. ‘It’s for the best.’

* * *

‘Right,’ Rachael told Lexi once they were all seated just over half an hour later. ‘Fill us in.’

‘Okay,’ Lexi began, pacing in the corner of the break room they’d taken over. Rachael’s office was too small to cram in the core team plus Olivia and the taskforce room was too noisy. ‘In March of this year, Bobby Walker appeared on video having sex with Sophie Bennett. According to Bobby, Sophie, who suffered bipolar disorder and was clearly enjoying herself at the time of the video, allegedly came at him later that night, threatening to accuse him of rape if he didn’t agree to a more meaningful relationship. In order to protect his very chivalrous reputation and refute any possible rape claim, he raced off home and posted footage of the event online. The following morning, Sophie was spotted by distraught friends floating out to sea on the high tide, after, it’s presumed, she jumped from the cliffs near Jenny Dixon Beach.

‘Fast forward to the Saturday before last. Two friends, Jacob Walker and Aaron Baker, decided to pinch some beers from Jacob’s dad’s fridge and head off to spy on Jacob’s big brother, Bobby, who wasn’t supposed to be out partying and cracking on to girls. They locate Bobby with a pretty lady and decide to have some fun, but it all goes south when Aaron forgets to turn the flash off on his phone camera and the world lights up like a Christmas tree. They run for their lives, Bobby takes off after them but fails to locate them after Aaron trips and they find cover.

‘During their escape, Aaron manages to drop his phone, which it seems Bobby does find and takes with him. In a fit of revenge, or so the boys believed at the time, he tosses the phone into the scrub behind the reserve. Because Aaron is now wounded from his fall, Jacob bravely offers to rescue the phone and goes in after it.

‘This is where it gets weird. Jacob says he followed the light and ringtone until he found the phone. Beside the phone was a dark-haired woman in a white dress who was badly humming the ringtone tune while bent over something he thought might have been a person. She was dishevelled, to say the least, and chased him away. Doesn’t sound so scary being relayed now, but something about this woman left him truly traumatised. But was she ever really there?’

‘Why wouldn’t she have been?’ Rachael asked.

‘Because the boys were drunk and had spent the walk over swapping Jenny Dixon stories. Jenny Dixon is a local urban legend. A hitchhiking, avenging spectre that is truly terrifying. The origin of the legend is that in the seventies, a young woman hitched a ride along that stretch of road with five young men after working late one night. Those men dragged her out of the car and raped and beat her before leaving her for dead in the reserve above Jenny Dixon Beach. She vowed before she died to get revenge and, sure enough, all five men were dead within a year after being terrorised by paranormal occurrences.’

‘And Jacob believes the woman he saw was this Jenny Dixon.’

‘Correct.’

‘And the psychologist said it was a false memory, which makes perfect sense under those circumstances,’ Oliva said impatiently.

‘What’s interesting is the way the young men in the story died,’ Lexi continued. ‘The first one hanged himself. Bobby was found hanging from the tree next to the one the phone was sitting on. So, yes, as you may remember from our brief chat earlier, Jacob’s psychologist believes this is a case of false memory. She believes Jacob couldn’t process the trauma associated with seeing his brother like that and, in his shock, he’s transposed the scene into something else.’

‘And I’d agree with her,’ Olivia said.

‘On top of that, Bobby had apparently been acting unusually in the days leading up to his suicide, claiming someone was messing with him. Leaving him messages, watching him in the dark. He’d become agitated and paranoid.’

‘Extreme cases of guilt can have a significant impact on mental health,’ Olivia said.

‘And if that’s all it was,’ Lexi said, ‘that would tie up neatly and we could rationalise it. But there’s more. Dino Armstrong, one of Bobby’s best mates, was dead a week later in a car wreck after swerving off the road. He’d taken off at the crack of dawn from a party like he was running for his life. No one knows what from.’

‘Let me guess. Jenny Dixon’s second victim died in a motor vehicle accident?’ Rachael asked.

‘Correct. Now we have Stewie Baker, Bobby and Dino’s mate. The local cop, Jeff’s son. Same deal as Bobby. Paranoia, hallucinations, erratic behaviour. If his brother is to be believed, Stewie’s convinced he’s being haunted.’

‘Paranoia, hallucinations, erratic behaviour … could this be the result of a drug? This kind of collective delusion must have a basis in something. Why would they believe this urban legend figure was out to get them? Is this Stewie the only other person affected?’ Rachael asked.

‘That Cait’s heard about. He does have another mate—the four of them were always hanging together—an Eddie Hill, but as far as I know, he’s fine. And Jeff said Bobby and Dino were clear of anything but alcohol when they had their accidents.’

‘So what do you think?’ Finn asked.

‘I think there’s a good chance they’re right. Someone’s messing with them. And no one seems to be trying to figure out who it might be.’

‘Is Jeff Baker handling the case?’ Finn asked.

‘What case? He doesn’t see it as a case, just a bunch of random occurrences.’

‘I can’t imagine he’s taking it too lightly if his son is involved,’ Rachael said. ‘Why don’t you and Linc organise to talk to him about your concerns after the press conference tomorrow? Perhaps, if you present the information the way you’ve just done to us, he’ll look at things differently. Offer some advice if he’s open to it, but tread carefully. See what he has to say. If any evidence comes to light that means we could be dealing with homicides, I’ll ensure it’s looked into.’

Lexi looked relieved. ‘Thanks, Rachael.’

‘You’re welcome. Now, how about we get on with our own case?’

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Thursday, October 19

Olivia’s psychological profile of Vaughn is particularly harsh this morning and skewed towards early childhood trauma. I remember this being on the agenda but I can’t help but feel this whole morning’s dump is a dig at me. I can see a couple of the journalists are all but licking their lips as we approach questions and, Here we go, I think to myself as Rachael opens the floor. It’s about to get messy.

‘Detective Brighton, are you suggesting Vaughn’s disposition was shaped by his early experiences? That the early trauma has been the catalyst for his current state?’

‘It’s possible. We have substantial evidence indicating that children who have endured abuse often struggle with establishing trust, maintaining healthy relationships, and may be more susceptible to a range of mental health issues, including personality disorders and psychosis. Additionally, they face an elevated risk of developing PTSD and engaging in self-destructive behaviours. In adolescence, these difficulties can manifest as behavioural problems, involvement in delinquency, and fleeing from home. This, in turn, can lead them towards engaging in what we term “survival crimes”, such as theft, prostitution and drug-related offences. So, in many ways, Vaughn’s early life experiences have led to outcomes that are well documented in such cases.’

Hold on, I immediately think. What has prostitution got to do with Vaughn? Why even throw that one in there?

‘But isn’t there an element of choice involved?’

‘Yes, although a link exists between childhood abuse and the development of the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal stress response. Extensive research has demonstrated connections between early adversity and deviations in brain structure and function. These variances can heighten the risk of later developing psychopathologies.’

‘So the brain can be actually physically affected?’

‘Yes.’

‘And experiences like these could potentially lead an otherwise typical child to develop psychopathic or antisocial tendencies?’

‘Yes.’

Ron cuts off two reporters to say loudly, ‘Considering Constable Winter’s history of a similarly abusive upbringing, has she ever shown any signs of possessing any of these tendencies?’

Olivia’s hesitation is telling. ‘Some individuals emerge from such circumstances relatively unscathed. Others don’t. There’s a complex interplay of genetics and environment.’

‘Only relatively unscathed?’ Ron asks. ‘Can you comment further on that in relation to Constable Winter?’

‘I can’t comment on the issues that have arisen as a result of Constable Winter’s upbringing.’

‘So there are issues.’

‘A reminder to keep the questions focused on Vaughn,’ Rachael prompts. ‘We’ve got a lot to get through today.’

‘Detective Brighton?’ Ron pushes, ignoring Rachael.

Again a thoughtful pause. ‘We need to remember that both nature and nurture come into play. Psychopathological conditions can arise from innate predispositions and external influences. Some, like psychopathy, have a strong hereditary component, particularly when stemming from biological mothers with severe antisocial tendencies.’

Vaughn’s mother died when he was a baby. That statement isn’t about Vaughn, it’s about me. My temper spikes again. She’s pissed at me and this is payback.

‘Mr Wiley,’ Rachael again interrupts, this time more forcefully, ‘if you are unable to—’

‘It could be argued that Constable Winter’s mother likely has antisocial tendencies, accepting what she participated in in that home.’

‘That’s certainly true.’

If Olivia answers one more of his questions or looks at me one more time with fake sympathy, I’m going to make everyone here think I haven’t overcome anything.

‘Thank you,’ Wiley says with a smug grin just as Rachael gets to her feet.

‘Constable Winter, I’m sure everyone watching is as horrified by the suffering you faced in your early life as I am,’ begins another reporter. ‘And I understand why Detective Brighton was hesitant to answer questions pertaining to the outcomes of that for you. But would you be willing to share how it has affected you? And do you feel like your shared experiences as children help you understand Damon Vaughn?’

‘I will never understand Damon Vaughn,’ I manage through clenched teeth. ‘We have no shared experiences.’

‘But as Detective Brighton just said, you’re both victims of a combination of genetic predisposition and environmental trauma due to poor parenting. You must feel some understanding of his mindset? Do you think people out there who are publicly supporting Vaughn at this time could be other victims doing so because they, too, understand the effects of trauma?’

The overwhelming rage that runs through me is dangerous. ‘Poor parenting? Is that what you call it?’ My frigid tone has the woman flinching with shame. I want to let loose on her. If I don’t walk out, I might. I expect Rachael to interject again but she doesn’t. I glance over, wondering why, and the look she sends me is calm, direct, silently telling me I can handle this. What choice do I have? If I lose it and storm out now, they’ll twist my actions around to prove some point about me being screwed up and we both know it.

I suck in a breath, try to settle the pounding of my furious pulse in my ears and contemplate a better answer than my preferred go fuck yourself. How dare Olivia and the media make me—or anyone like me—feel broken? There were bound to be people watching who were already struggling with those feelings. People who could be badly affected by what’s been insinuated.

I lean towards the microphone and grit my teeth. ‘The two people who neglected, abused and exploited me were never true parents,’ I begin. Even though I’m still shaking with anger, my voice is miraculously steady. ‘And though some of what I went through might sound similar to other stories, the early experiences I had are my own, as Vaughn experienced his own, as the millions of other people out there who experienced “poor parenting” have their own. Yes, trauma leaves scars, and I don’t claim to be an expert on genetic predispositions, but I do know this: regardless of what someone has gone through, be it “poor parenting” or any other difficult period in their life, people consciously choose between good and evil, right and wrong, every day. The majority choose good. Choose right. Vaughn didn’t. That’s on him, not on a circumstance, an experience or a predisposition.’ I meet the journalist’s gaze, unflinching. ‘And those millions of good people I mentioned? No, I don’t think they’re out there supporting Vaughn, and they’re not victims. They’re survivors. Show some respect.’

‘And on that note,’ Rachael says over a burst of applause, ‘thank you all for coming, we’ll have more for you in a few days.’

The door slams as I leave the conference room, cutting the noise. I’m snarling. That was supposed to have been about Vaughn, not me, not anyone else. I take the stairs because I’m too worked up to wait for the lift. I need to move.

I get halfway up then decide I’m not in a fit state to face anyone, so I stop where I am, drop my head back and stare at the roof. Fucking Olivia. I want to find her and do something really, really stupid. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and have to force myself not to. ‘It’s not worth the jail time, it’s not worth the jail time, it’s not worth the—’

‘Lexi,’ Finn says.

‘Fuck me!’ I growl with frustration. Why could he have not used the lift?

‘You—’

‘Be very careful what you say next.’

‘Okay.’ He sighs, thinks. ‘What if I was to … attempt to explain to you that she’s just trying to be both truthful and diplomatic up there, which isn’t easy when the likes of Ron—’

‘Then I would have to attempt to explain to a judge why I emptied the contents of my gun into your thick skull!’

‘Lexi, please.’

‘No, Finn. Either you’re deliberately fooling yourself or fucking her has turned you into a blind idiot. She’s not trying to help, she’s undermining me with my team—and now the whole fucking country—and has been in one way or another since she arrived. Those prostitution and mother references were completely deliberate, as was her phrasing. And as for those long, considering pauses and sympathetic looks? She was contemplating all the ways she thinks I’m screwed up and everyone in that room knew it. She could at any time have come out with a simple “No, that’s not the case”, but she so blatantly talked around it that journalists are going to be running in all directions to talk to other psychologists for their take on what she didn’t say.’

‘You wanted her to lie?’

‘Oh, fuck you!’

‘Wait! I hate being in the middle of this. I care about you, too. You’re my friend.’

‘Well, why don’t we make this easy and put that on hold for a while. She’ll love it and, right now, I can’t see it making a whole lot of difference to me.’

‘You don’t—’

‘Care, Finn. I don’t care!’ I rush up the rest of the stairs and almost straight into Rachael.

‘My office,’ she tells me.

I march in, almost fall over trying to back out when I spot Olivia there. But Rachael has come in behind me and shut the door.

‘Lexi, I’m sorry if—’ Olivia tells me.

‘Are you? You wanted a poster girl for all this shit. Here I am, right?’

‘I didn’t make that leap, the press did, and I handled it as best I could.’

‘What leap would that have been? The one that suggested Vaughn and I were closet kindred spirits? Or the one where all us abused kids are sociopathic lunatics just waiting for someone to press the right button before wreaking mass murder and destruction on the poor unsuspecting public? Not that it would be our fault! Because our brains are fried, right? How fucking irresponsible can—’

‘The science was misrepresented due to the angles of the questions. I didn’t have the opportunity to explain.’

‘Oh, but there was plenty of time for a pause or two. A couple of big, long, sympathetic ones. And since when was Vaughn ever into prostitution?’

‘The questions threw me.’ She sounds genuine, but she’s good at that.

‘Did you stop to think for one second how damaging your words could be to so many people watching who’ve actually been through this shit?’

‘You did,’ Rachael says evenly, cutting over whatever Olivia was about to snap back. ‘The main thing is, you did. You were the one up there that mattered today and you came through. You held it together and showed everyone who you really are. This is going to sound patronising and I don’t mean it to be, but I was so incredibly proud of you.’

That means something. It shouldn’t. I don’t need anyone’s approval. Never looked for it, never wanted it, never cared. But as I respect Rachael probably more than anyone else on this earth, it does. So I exhale just enough of the anger and keep my still twitching hands to myself.

‘Would you mind if I worked from my apartment today?’

‘Not at all.’

With a nod, I walk out. I don’t want to have to talk to anyone, but Linc spots me juggling everything I’ve picked up from my desk and snags it from me.

‘I’ll just carry, you pretend I’m not here,’ he says.

I hold him to that as I head for the lift.

Julian tags onto the end of our procession. Sensibly keeps quiet.

In my peripheral vision, I catch sight of Finn watching our progress. I’m not sure whether he deserved what I threw at him or not. I’ll have to think about it. Later.

* * *

The pungent scent of cannabis hits me as soon as I swing the door open. Fuck, I forgot the study day today. Perfect. I stop dead, sending Julian bumping into Linc, and survey the room. When I spot it, I head for the lounge.

‘Well, that’s mine now.’ I swat Cait’s feet to clear them from the coffee table and scoop up what remains of a sachet of pot. I notice Lizzy’s the only one smoking. She looks up from her phone and groans.

‘Ah … I’ll leave you to it,’ Julian says.

‘Thanks, Julian!’ I tell the closing door, marching back to toss the remnants of the dope in the bin. ‘Lizzy, do not bring that shit in here again.’

‘Sorry!’ she mutters.

I stop, stare, decide I’m not in the mood to safely deal with teenage attitude, and breathe through the urge to say or do something I’ll regret.

An alert chimes on Lizzy’s phone, and she says, ‘Party tonight at—’

‘You’re not going,’ I tell Cait.

‘What do you mean?’

‘No. No way. I don’t want you anywhere near that lot again.’

‘But what about Dino’s funeral on—’

‘You didn’t even like the guy, Cait!’

‘What do you want done with these?’ Linc asks of the computers he’s brought back for me.

‘On the table, thanks.’

‘You still searching through them?’

‘I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.’

‘Maybe it’s not there.’

‘Something has to make sense!’ I press my fingers to my eyes and calm myself. ‘Sorry. I wonder if there was another computer at Brookes’s home?’

‘Finn might know.’

‘Well, I’m absolutely not asking him for anything today.’

‘After your little altercation, I’m surprised he’s not rocking back and forth in a dark corner somewhere.’

‘You heard that?’

‘The entire task force heard it. At least the part about emptying your gun into his thick skull and the very loud, very clear “Fuck you!”’

‘What?’ Cait laughs. ‘Is that why you’re in a mood?’

I grimace. ‘No wonder we got a look from Rachael.’

‘She was hovering. I don’t think she was game to interrupt.’

My fingers go back to my eyes. ‘Fuck!’

‘Meh, it’ll give everyone something to talk about other than the press conference. If it makes you feel better, I think most of them were cheering you on.’

‘It’s not Finn’s fault. Not really. I was just angry.’

‘Yeah. Most people would be after receiving applause from the media.’

Email alerts begin pinging through on my phone, enough that I check. They’re all from Rachael. Comments from X, screenshots from other social media sites and forwarded emails from random members of the public.

‘What did I tell you?’ Linc says, looking over my shoulder. ‘You’re trending.’

‘Nice break from all the Vaughn-loving cop haters I guess.’

‘Can I get your autograph?’ Lizzy asks. ‘I reckon it might be worth something.’

‘I’m going to go beat something up,’ I mutter.

‘That’s my cue to leave,’ Linc jokes. ‘I’ll pick you up after work for that meeting with Jeff at six thirty. He wants to do it at his place.’

‘You’re going to Stewie’s?’ Lizzy asks when Linc lets himself out.

‘Yeah, why?’

‘Just wondering how he’s getting on. If he’s still—you know—acting weird.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘So why are you going to talk to his dad?’ Cait asks.

‘General police business,’ I tell them and instead of heading for my punching bag, grab my JD and open Thompson’s laptop.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

‘Gotta love the way Rachael jumped on Lexi’s side,’ Olivia said into the silence of the small office.

‘Did she say that?’ Finn asked. He’d never seen Lexi so angry. Not with him. He wasn’t sure she didn’t have a right to be.

‘No,’ Olivia said, ‘but she told Lexi how proud she was of her, then held me back to berate me for not redirecting the questions appropriately and for responding to Wiley after she’d ordered him to shut up.’

‘To be fair, Lexi had to sit up there while her mental health was questioned, then had to defend herself and everyone else who’s been through what she has because of the slant put on the abuse outcomes. Of course she was angry, but I thought she handled it well.’

‘While she was up there, maybe, but she more than made up for it after that. I didn’t raise doubts over Lexi’s mental health on purpose.’

‘Are you sure?’ It slipped out, but he had been wondering.

Her face reflected surprise. ‘Seriously? What was I supposed to say? Has Lexi been impacted by trauma? Yes! Has that trauma had any lasting effects? Yes! Does she have any disorders as a direct result? I fully believe she does! Look it up, read about it and see how many boxes she ticks. My professional standing is on the line out there too.’

‘Okay. That’s fair.’

She sighed at the roof. ‘At least someone thinks so. God. Those two hate me.’

‘Rachael doesn’t hate you, and Lexi’s not your biggest fan right now but she won’t let it get in the way of work. She doesn’t sulk or hold grudges. Everything will be fine. It’s just going to take some time to calm down.’

‘I hope so. Because we still have Vaughn to catch. And … about us. I know I sprang a lot on you recently. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better. Have you had a chance to think about what I said?’

He smiled apologetically. ‘Not enough, not really. There’s been a lot going on. Let’s deal with this for now, okay?’

‘Okay. Finn? I know I can make a real difference in this task force, but I have to be able to do my job without Lexi seeing everything as a perceived slight.’

He left her working and went to find Rachael.

‘Tough morning,’ she commented when he flopped in a chair.

‘Yeah, it was. I want to talk to you about that.’

‘I have a few minutes.’

He rubbed at a kink in the back of his neck as she organised some paperwork in a filing cabinet. ‘I need you to give Olivia a break,’ he said, anticipating the look she shot his way and not flinching.

‘Have I somehow been persecuting her?’

‘No of course not, but she mentioned you reprimanded her over the press conference and she feels, at times, like you and Lexi present an opposing, united front. We both know you’ve had reservations about her since she arrived at HQ, at first because of who her mother was, then because of her attitude towards Lexi during the Cronin case. I think it’s affected how Lexi feels about her.’

‘I should be flattered you think my influence extends that far,’ she retorted.

‘You know it does.’

‘As opposed to taking offence,’ she said, and as if finished with the discussion, resumed organising her paperwork.

He supposed it did sound petty now that he’d voiced it out loud. There’d been plenty of times Rachael had stepped up to support Olivia in a professional sense. He sighed heavily. ‘Olivia’s a good person. I really believe she’s doing her best, even if it doesn’t always come across that way. She excels at facts but people are not her strong suit. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, right? She has a heart of gold, but she’s also driven to reach the top, and her professional integrity comes first. She won’t stand up and lie. You should understand that.’

Rachael looked over her shoulder. ‘I do.’

‘So then I just don’t get it. If there’s an issue, I want to know what it is so we can sort it out.’

Rachael stilled, then turned fully around. The cabinet drawer rolled closed with a definite click.

‘Okay,’ she said after a minute. ‘Personal relationships within teams often become problematic. I believe Olivia sees Lexi’s working relationship with you as a threat and uses her expertise to score points against her.’

His temper simmered. ‘I want an example.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You made an accusation. Back it up.’

He saw the disapproval on her face and felt a nervous coil tighten in his gut, because he knew she wouldn’t voice that without reason. ‘Rach?’

She stared at him for several beats before a growl of frustration erupted from her throat. She opened her laptop. ‘During the Cronin case, when she was pretending to be concerned about Lexi, this is what she wrote to the commissioner. If she’s being straight up with you, you already know about it; if you don’t, enough people do that it’s bound to come out anyway. It’s all you’re getting from me.’ She clicked a few keys, turned the laptop around and slid it towards him.

As he absorbed Olivia’s words, a sense of betrayal washed over him. It wasn’t about any opinion Olivia might have held, but the realisation that she had said one thing to his face while submitting something very different behind his back. It had nothing to do with Lexi and everything to do with their relationship. ‘She told me she wanted to help. But this reads like she was out to destroy Lexi’s career.’

‘She’s perfectly entitled to her feelings on the matter,’ Rachael said. ‘But having the courage of your convictions means standing by your judgement. It means transparency. On several fronts that—’ she pointed at the laptop ‘—was sneaky. It was also months ago, and I’m not particularly comfortable bringing it up after all this time. But you demanded an example. There it is.’

‘Why am I only finding out about this now?’

Rachael shrugged. ‘Lexi told me to forget it.’

‘Lexi knows about this? Since when?’

‘Since it was submitted. She saw Cass’s and Olivia’s complaints at the time.’

‘And she never said anything?’

‘Oh, come on, Finn! You honestly expect Lexi to cry on your shoulder? She couldn’t care less what Olivia thinks of her!’ She sighed. ‘There’s a lot of good about Olivia, and whatever she’s done, she’s done because you mean something to her. She fought for you, even if it wasn’t necessary, even if I don’t like the way she went about it. If you can accept that, you two may end up being happy together. And while that chance is there, I’m not going to interfere any further. Don’t ask me to.’

Sneaky was the word Rachael had used. Simple and straight to the point. They were only a few months in and Olivia hadn’t even been able to be honest about a possible new job, had hidden phone calls and texts. After the lack of communication on both sides in his marriage and the distrust that had festered, the hurt that had caused, the devastation it had led to, he’d promised himself never again. Never again would he be with someone who wasn’t able to be open and honest, who didn’t put the relationship, and working on it, first.

‘Lexi had just finished telling me she wanted to unload a gun into my thick skull.’ He smiled wryly and dropped his head into his hands in frustration. ‘I didn’t think I wanted to lose her. But it’s not that hard a decision.’

Rachael frowned. ‘I don’t think Lexi deserves—’

‘Olivia.’

Rachael considered that. ‘Why would you lose Olivia?’

He dragged his fingers over his face and looked up. ‘Because I can’t lose Lexi.’

‘Finn,’ Rachael said gently.

‘I won’t. I don’t just mean her friendship. She’ll be dead in days if we don’t stop this. We have to be focused. We have to give this case a hundred and ten per cent of our efforts. And I need to give Lexi a hundred and ten per cent of mine. I can’t do it like this. I might not need a bullet but I needed a wake-up call.’

* * *

Finn stood outside Olivia’s apartment and stared at the door, waited a few beats, then knocked.

It was only early evening but she opened it dressed in satin boxers and a flowery sleep tee under a loosely wrapped powder blue satin robe. Comfort clothes. She liked to slip into them after a rough day.

She smiled. ‘Hi,’ she said, and pressed her lips to his.

‘Hi. I, ah … wanted to talk.’

He saw the slight wobble of her smile but it held as she let him in. She collected her wine from the counter and lifted the bottle in offer.

‘No, thanks.’ He walked the length of the living space, came back. ‘I saw the letter you wrote to the commissioner about Lexi during the Cronin case.’

Some of the colour left Olivia’s face. ‘Oh.’

‘Regardless of what you thought of Lexi, you lied to me.’

‘I’m sorry, Finn. That occurred early on between us, and it was my perspective at the time. But watching your concern for Lexi increase as the case progressed, I wasn’t certain when would be the right time to address what I’d written. So I tried my best to be supportive, and as the case unfolded, it was easier to overlook it, hoping, perhaps naively, that it would never become a problem.’ She closed the space between them. ‘If our relationship had reached this stage back then, I wouldn’t have kept that letter from you.’

Perhaps, he thought, but the letter was just the tip of the iceberg. He’d been kidding himself to believe that being with someone whose career would always be the priority—Olivia had never pretended otherwise—would be enough for him. A lot of what they’d argued about lately stemmed in one way or another from that. Saving Lexi’s life was his priority right now. Not trying to mend a relationship that, he sadly realised, no longer meant enough to him.

He took her wine from her and laced their fingers, looked her in the eyes. ‘I can’t come with you to Canberra. But you should tell Jeremy you want that job.’

He watched several emotions pass over her face. Finally she dropped her gaze.

‘I see.’

‘You’ve told yourself all along this is the time in your life where your career comes first. You’ve been straight up about it from the beginning. Everything you do reflects that and there’s no reason you can’t get exactly where you want to go. Yet you’ve tied yourself up in knots trying to juggle us in with that.’

She picked up her wine and sat, tucking a leg underneath her on the lounge and staring into her glass. ‘It’s easy to say in theory, but then feelings get involved.’

He sat beside her. ‘I know. I get that,’ he said gently, ‘but this is the exact reason we’ve had the kind of relationship we’ve had.’

‘I’ve just been so miserable. I want this job, Finn. So, so much. But I haven’t been able to accept that I can’t make us work, too. I know it’s unreasonable to ask you to up stakes and move. And the odds of a long-distance relationship aren’t great. Or probably fair.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I want it all. Always have. God. I don’t think I’m cut out for any kind of relationship.’

‘Says every woman in my life ever.’

She laughed sadly. ‘I’m sorry. I really am bad at this. I … I’m disappointed. I’ve really enjoyed … us. I’m hurting. Don’t think I’m not. I hate failing at things.’

He put his arms around her while she took some deep breaths. After a moment, she leant back, touched her fingers to her eyes and sighed.

‘I don’t lose well. If I want something, I go after it. If I feel it slipping through my fingers I do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t get away. Sometimes I can be proud of that. But not always.’ She looked into her wine, her brow furrowed. ‘I have tried to hold on to you. Too tight at times, and Lexi copped that today. I’m sorry. I was angry and I let that slip through professionally.’

‘Lexi and I have never been anything other than friends.’

She nodded. Smiled, though it was flat. ‘I hope we still can be.’

‘So do I,’ he said gently.

Another deep breath. Some rapid blinking. ‘Okay. Okay, good,’ she said, pulling herself together and getting to her feet. ‘I’ll call Jeremy and let him know. And if I can sort things out with Lexi and Rachael, I’d really still like to do all I can to see this case through its final few days.’ She walked him to the door.

‘I’m happy for you. About the job.’

‘Me too. But for the record,’ she said as he stepped through the door, ‘you’re kidding yourself about Lexi.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘If you looked at me even once the way you look at her every day, I would have stayed.’ She smiled softly and closed the door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

‘I wonder why he wanted us to meet him at home rather than at the station?’ I ask Linc as we pull up outside Jeff Baker’s nineties brick home.

‘Keeping home problems separate, I guess. He might not want anyone knowing about Stewie’s issues.’

‘Or discussing what he’s not doing about what’s going on?’

‘You mean he doesn’t want to openly investigate ghosts in front of his colleagues? Can’t see why.’

Linc parks on the street and we get out, look around. There’s a red ute in the driveway and the front door is open so we ring the bell.

‘Yeah?’ comes a voice from somewhere inside.

‘Detectives Lincoln and Winter, here to see Sergeant Baker,’ Linc calls back.

‘He’s not here!’

‘Is that you, Stewie?’ I ask.

I hear heavy footsteps then a dishevelled teen appears in the doorway. ‘Yeah?’

‘Hi, I’m Lexi. Remember me?’

‘Not really. Something to do with that Cait chick?’

‘Yeah. We’re here to talk to your dad. He shouldn’t be far away. Can we wait inside?’

He shrugs. ‘Don’t care.’

‘Thanks.’ I open the door and walk into a practical kitchen with black and white checked lino and IKEA-style wooden furnishings. The remnants of a couple of meals are spread over the bench. ‘Sorry about Dino. How are you?’

Stewie’s gaze sharpens, his previously bored expression suddenly way too intense. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

‘Hey, buddy, settle,’ Linc says, stepping forward.

‘I want to know what she meant!’

‘He’s fine,’ I tell Linc, making my expression concerned. ‘I’m worried about you, Stewie. We all are.’

‘Why?’

‘With what’s been going on, I’m not sure you’ve really got anyone you can talk to. Anyone who believes you. You can talk to us, if you want to.’

He stares. A big, wide-eyed, stunned look of disbelief. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m talking about all that weird shit that’s been going on. I believe you. You’re not crazy. It’s important that you know it’s not all in your head.’

‘She’s real?’ It’s barely a whisper. He’s backing away.

‘What if it’s not Jenny Dixon?’

‘It’s Sophie. Oh, fuck,’ he says, clutching his hair. ‘It’s that psycho fucking bitch!’

‘No, Stewie. Sophie’s dead. What about someone else?’

But he’s not listening. He thunders back to his room and slams the door.

‘Safe to say he’s not in a good way,’ Linc says.

‘He does seem a little hair trigger.’

‘What’s going on?’ Jeff says, letting the front screen door slam behind him.

‘Hi,’ I say. ‘Stewie just let us in to wait for you. He’s a bit upset.’

‘What did you say to him?’

‘I asked him how he was. He, um, doesn’t seem to be doing so well.’

Jeff drags his hand through his hair and nods. ‘He’s taking his mates’ deaths hard. Needs some time, that’s all. Have a seat. I’ll make us a cuppa.’

When we all have a mug in front of us, I take a sip and put the Sydney Roosters mug down. The instant coffee is revolting. ‘Jeff, thanks for seeing us. We wanted to talk to you about the deaths of Robert Walker and Dean Armstrong.’

‘Sure but like I said on the phone, I’m not really sure what else there is to say.’

‘I think there could be more to what’s going on than we’re all aware of.’

‘Such as?’

‘Jacob said he saw a woman in a white dress with dark hair hunched over what he thinks was a body. Bobby and Dino both claimed to have seen a similar figure. Stewie—’

‘Leave Stewie out of this!’

‘Two young men are dead after going through what your son is experiencing right now. Do you really want to ignore this?’

‘I’m not ignoring anything! I’ve taken care of it.’

Linc and I exchange glances. ‘Taken care of what?’

‘It was the alcohol. They were all drinking too much.’

‘Teenagers drink too much all the time. Somehow, there’s very few cases of mass hysteria leading to repeated urban legend carbon-copy deaths.’

‘Bobby killed himself out of guilt. Dino got drunk and drove his car over a cliff. Stewie is grieving two of best mates’ deaths.’

‘Stewie is sleeping with a light on and claiming Jenny Dixon is out to get him, Jeff,’ Linc says gently.

‘Do you know what he was doing at the cemetery on Tuesday night?’ I ask.

‘He wasn’t at the cemetery. He was at the footy field.’

‘I saw him over there.’

‘Had to protect myself—keep it from Eddie,’ Stewie says from the end of the room. He’s glassy-eyed but his presence seems bigger, more volatile. ‘She should be after Eddie. I only ever went along with it.’

‘Stew, go have a lie-down, mate,’ Jeff tells him.

‘Went along with what, Stewie? What did Eddie do?’ Linc asks.

‘She won’t leave me alone. She stares, she just stares at me.’ He bashes his fist against his temple over and over. ‘She’s out there now. Right now. Staring.’

‘Where?’ I ask, looking out the window but not seeing anyone. ‘Where is she?’

‘Not that way. Not there. She’s not gonna get me.’ His expression transforms from an anxious mask to a snarl, fists clenching and unclenching, eyes wild. ‘Nah. I’m gonna get her. I’m gonna get her first!’

Jeff surges to his feet but Stewie turns and runs. The screen bangs.

As we rush after him, we hear the ute in the driveway thrum to life and see it swerving violently down to the end of the road, around a barrier and onto a dirt track.

‘Can he get out onto the main road off those tracks?’ Linc asks.

‘In two spots.’ Jeff looks worried. Grim. ‘We could head him off at both points. Stop him. It’s a straight shot for us.’

‘I think that might be a good idea, don’t you? We’ll take one each,’ Linc says, heading for his car as Jeff gives directions and heads for his. ‘Lexi, stay in the house. Let us know if he comes back!’

I watch them tear off and wonder if Stewie will make it that far. That thought in mind, I set off on foot for the track. It’s only a few houses down and it’s not difficult to see where the tyres cut through the sandy soil. I turn and look back down the road, can clearly see Jeff’s house and a couple of windows. Does one of them belong to Stewie’s bedroom? Is this the spot where ‘she’ was standing and staring at him? I begin following the tyre tracks.

The bang is unmistakable.

My stomach rolls and I start running. The terrain slopes away through low coastal shrubbery so I see the wreck a long time before I reach it. When I do, I know there’s no saving him.

I call it in, then call Linc. No answer. As I drop my phone from my ear, something catches my eye way back up at the top of the tree line.

A woman. A white dress. Dark hair. Something about her absolute stillness, the way the hair covers her shadowed face, the way she’s staring at me—is she grinning?—has ice settling over me. As a cloud goes across the sun, she steps back and is swallowed by the scrub.

I blink. Shake my head. Goosebumps spread over my skin, prickle the back of my neck. What the fuck?

My phone rings and I jump so hard I drop it, then scramble to pick it up. My gaze flies instantly back to where the woman had been. No one there.

Maybe it was a trick of the light. It was a long way off.

I know a fucking woman when I see one.

‘Lexi?’

‘Linc. He’s dead. It’s not pretty. You need to warn Jeff.’

‘Damn it! Where are you? Have you called it in?’

‘Huh? Yes—I’m on it. I don’t know exactly where I am. Come down the hill a bit. You’ll see me.’

Stewie’s body is a mangled mess in a ruined car three feet away, yet the most horrifying thing I’ve seen today was up on that hill.

And still, my gaze keeps returning to that spot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Friday, October 20

‘Who wouldn’t fight for their lives?’

Finn cringed as, on screen, a middle-aged man in a Save Australia cap shouted into a microphone.

‘We need an end to the fake journalism that controls society! End attempts to keep us in the dark and treat us like mindless plebs! We need to start taking back our towns, our lives. Stop being taxed into oblivion and working ninety per cent of our waking hours, only to struggle on while the fat bastards in power get massive tax breaks and fly all over the world on our hard-earned money! We need to put an end to a future of fifteen-minute cities and eating bugs. We need to wake up, people! In his own small way, Vaughn is trying to show us that!’

‘Prime time?’ Rachael exclaimed. ‘Really?’

‘But wait! There’s more!’ Cass said as yet another speaker comes on. This one a younger female.

‘We need to start by taking back power over our own safety! By demanding real justice, not this shit the courts dole out because the prisons are full or the perps cry “poor me”. Lexi Winter used to know that, but now she’s a traitor, in bed with a system that doesn’t work. Why are so many supporting the wrong side? Vaughn’s just one example of how we’re being lied to and manipulated. Wake up, people! Support Vaughn!’

‘This is getting worse,’ Neutron said. On his screen, he brought up a picture of a protest of around thirty people, complete with banners and spray paint taken outside police headquarters. He pointed at a man on screen. ‘This is Curt Hughes. This guy’s a professional agitator. He knows how to incite a crowd.’

‘You think Vaughn hired him?’

‘I hope so. If he’s doing this for the fun of it, that’s probably worse.’

‘Turn it off before Lexi gets here,’ Rachael ordered. ‘She doesn’t need to walk in on that today.’

‘I can’t believe that happened to her yesterday,’ Cass said. ‘The big blow-up at the press conference then the car wreck, right after the near-death experience on the weekend. And that’s on top of the general countdown to murder. Sucks to be her right now.’

‘Let’s try and keep it positive?’ Rachael prompted.

Olivia walked in. She hesitated, then smiled. ‘Morning.’

‘Morning,’ Finn said, putting in some effort.

‘I’m just going to get a coffee.’

He smiled again.

‘What’s going on there?’ Rachael asked.

‘We’re navigating a post break-up we can still be friends and work together scenario,’ Finn told her.

Linc gave him a sympathetic slap on the shoulder.

Rachael’s brows shot up. ‘I’m … sorry.’

‘It’s for the best. She still wants to help with the case if you’re happy for her to continue.’

‘I’ll talk to her. Are you okay?’

‘Yeah. Yeah. It was best all round, really.’

‘Where’s Lexi?’ Cass asked. ‘Are they going to be able to work together?’

‘Julian messaged—they’re running a bit late,’ Rachael said. ‘Should be here any minute.’

‘Um—they’re outside,’ Neutron said.

Neutron had returned the screen to the local news and Lexi and Julian were on camera at the front of the building.

‘She doesn’t quite look herself this morning. Is she all right?’ Cass asked.

Finn took in Lexi’s appearance. She looked tidy enough: jeans and tee, ponytail instead of bun, and it’s not like she needed to wear make-up. There was nothing wrong with her appearance; plenty of other detectives wore jeans. It just wasn’t Lexi. And she was too pale.

‘Turn on the volume,’ Rachael said.

‘—that despite what conclusions you may have jumped to after yesterday’s press conference, no, I am not harbouring any secret destructive mental illnesses you all need to worry about,’ Lexi told a reporter.

‘And you’re not at all concerned about Vaughn’s capacity, as a criminal with all his different diagnoses, to come after you in the most horrific ways imaginable? What do you think he has planned?’

Lexi’s expression radiated disapproval. ‘Let’s not get too carried away over titles. You stick fancy labels on these animals and they can start to sound impressive. Don’t be fooled. Damon Vaughn is a joke. He thinks he’s a criminal mastermind but what he is is sick in the head. He believes he’s in complete control, but the only way he can assert any sort of dominance over anyone is by cutting them to pieces. He’s getting all this attention because, like some sort of deviant toddler, he needs it, craves it. Yes, he had a crappy childhood and yes, so did I. But what happened to me didn’t twist me the way it twisted him. I’m stronger, I’m smarter and I’m better resourced. I beat him before and I’ll beat him again. All I need everyone to take away from these press conferences is that he’s out there and he’s sick. Keep your eyes open, stay safe and report any possible sightings to the police. We’ll do the rest. That’s all. Thank you.’

‘Oh my God,’ Rachael said and walked out of the room with her hands on her head.

Finn figured she was headed for the lift and slipped out behind her. There’d been enough conflict recently. He didn’t think it would hurt to remind Rachael of that.

He led with ‘She’s had a rough few days.’

‘And this one’s not about to get any easier.’

‘She’s like a daughter to you. You need to be—’

‘Rabid?’

‘That one’s going to come back to bite me forever, isn’t it?’

The lift doors opened and Lexi and Julian stepped out.

‘Are you trying to get yourself killed!’ Rachael snapped. ‘Do you not remember what happened to a reporter who said something very similar?’

Lexi shrugged. ‘It’s not like I’m changing his plans.’ She walked right past them, earning a look of disbelief from Rachael.

‘A joke? Sick? Deviant toddler? And the “smarter” comment? You didn’t just throw down the gauntlet, you punched him in the face with it! You know his intelligence is fused to his ego. How about exercising some self-control? And for fuck’s sake, some self-preservation?’

Lexi spun, eyes shocked. ‘Did you just swear at me?’

‘Nothing else was getting through!’

‘Let him be pissed off! Angry POIs make mistakes!’

‘So do angry cops!’ Rachael shot back. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Finding my phone,’ she said, scrambling in her bag.

‘Why?’

‘So if you swear again, I have proof.’

‘This is not funny!’ Rachael exploded in exasperation.

‘Rachael, I have a sadistic serial killer fixated on stalking me and playing games, and who is in eleven days—at most—intent on murdering me in the most depraved way possible. My sanity’s being questioned, the public hate me and I’m seeing ghosts. You don’t get to decide for me what’s funny.’

She walked into the taskforce room and Rachael charged after her. Finn followed, wondering why there was no yelling, only to see them all staring at a reporter on the screen.

‘… a string of deaths that have left police scratching their heads. As Richard Edwards reports, this case definitely has police … spooked.’

‘Thank you, Libby. I’m in Noraville, where a third Central Coast youth has lost his life in recent days following another high-speed collision. It’s rumoured Stewart Baker ran his car into a tree after complaining of being harassed by a woman in a white dress. But there is speculation the figure wasn’t flesh and blood, rather the avenging apparition of local legend, Jenny Dixon, with one officer, Constable Lexi Winter, the policewoman currently caught up in the Damon Vaughn saga, reportedly spotting the ghost herself.

‘Tragically, this is the second fatal motor vehicle accident in as many weeks in this area, with a close friend of Baker’s also reportedly having been harassed by this young woman prior to his road accident fatality. She was also allegedly spotted at the scene of another tragic incident, this one of a eighteen-year-old male suicide, when a twelve-year-old boy was allegedly chased from the scene by the spectre. Now, as far-fetched as that may sound, several years back, two local officers claimed to have picked up a young woman they now believe to have been Jenny Dixon on the nearby stretch of Wilfred Barrett Drive, only to have her disappear from the back of their vehicle as they reached the cemetery. In fact, there have been hundreds of similar sightings since the seventies. The last string of young men to die in almost identical circumstances in this area are said to have been responsible for the rape and murder of a young woman who had been hitchhiking on the road. So the question is, why would a ghost come after these young men?’

‘Tragic, Mark, though we’re certainly not implying these victims are guilty of any crimes.’

‘Not at all, Libby, and we certainly feel for the boys and their families during this terrible time.’

‘Well, if I wasn’t already famous,’ Lexi said, as Neutron muted the screen.

‘You saw a ghost?’ Cass asked.

Lexi held up a finger. ‘I saw a creepy woman in a white dress. A woman—as solid as you and I—in a white dress. That is what I saw. I only mentioned her at all in the context of a possible witness to the accident. How the hell she disappeared in the blink of an eye is as impressive as it is puzzling, but there was plenty of cover and I’m a long way from claiming paranormal. The word “ghost” did not cross my lips. Not once. Not by intent, not by accident, not at all. Second, I know better than to profess to the world I am some kind of loosely wired nutcase. I don’t need any help in that area at present.’ Her laugh was forced. ‘You know this, or you should, so why are you all looking at me like that?’

Rachael was watching Lexi closely. ‘Like what?’ she asked.

‘Oh, here we go, now you’re going to tell me I’m being paranoid. Can we just find out who gave the press all that information, please?’

‘Linc, Cass, see if you can find out,’ Rachael answered after a moment. ‘Finn.’ She paused then grimaced. ‘You and Lexi see if you can hunt down whoever was at that scene. We need to put a name to that face and get rid of the ghost garbage as quickly as possible.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

‘So, what’s the go?’ Finn asks me as I decide I’ve had enough of being stared at and head for whatever spare office I can find. ‘You don’t seem yourself today. Should I be worried?’

‘I don’t know, Finn. Why don’t you ask Olivia?’

‘Lex.’

Oh, he does not get to use that please be reasonable voice on me. Whatever. Maybe I’m not myself. I woke up feeling like a train had run over me. Like I’d had a bottle of JD last night rather than a couple of glasses after I’d finally untangled myself from that scene from hell and managed to stop Cait from pestering me for details. Human bodies and high-speed car impacts don’t mix well, and the image of that fucking woman up on the hill has given me just as many nightmares.

Maybe my brain is simply sick of being stressed out or something, but I feel pleasantly disconnected enough from waiting to die today that I’m happy to run with it. Even if I also feel like I’ve skipped, rather than enjoyed, several hours’ sleep.

I stare at my laptop screen and wonder where to start. I really doubt I’m going to be able to find this woman on any cameras. I guess it’s possible some of the houses on those nearby residential streets might have CCTV. Jeff might have some set up. Might be worth taking a drive around for a look. I wonder if there’s a way up from the beach past the surf club—that’d have to have CCTV, wouldn’t it? She could have been wearing a caftan or something, been stickybeaking. People are weird like that sometimes.

‘Right, then,’ Finn says. ‘Show me on a map where you were in relation to where this woman was.’

‘This is not a two-person job.’

‘Look, I know we need to talk about yesterday. I wanted to sort it last night but you had so much going on and there was something I needed to do. Now’s probably not the best time but—’

‘I think we should just leave things as they are.’ I’m not ready to play friends yet. I know he has to side with the girlfriend but he can’t have not seen what she did in front of those cameras. To come up to me afterwards and try and convince me it was okay had been a step too far, whether he was just trying to play peacemaker or not.

He sits there silently for a bit while I stare at my laptop, then gets up. ‘I’ll have Linc come in and work with you.’

‘Forget that,’ Rachael says from the door. ‘We’ve got a murder–suicide. The vic, Matthew Richmond, was on our list. He was a police informant who provided the tip-off that led to Vaughn begin arrested. Lexi, are you going with Finn or do I send someone else?’

‘Of course I’m going.’ I throw my things together and walk out.

When Finn doesn’t immediately follow, I turn back, see them standing in the door to the office having some sort of quiet conversation. About me, by the looks of it. I press the button on the lift and the doors open. That gets him moving.

I put on the radio and stare out the window as Finn drives. I actually wish Julian was here to break the silence, but he was taking Cait to school. I wonder if he’d like to catch up and join us on the way back.

And seriously, I think, as my vision dots lightly, what is going on with me? I could really do with some more sleep.

It’s not a short drive to Rouse Hill and I’m fighting to stay awake all the way there. When we do finally arrive, there’s not much to see. A Detective Rodriguez outlines the details. Matthew Richmond, fifty-four years old, shot dead by his partner Christopher Patterson, fifty-one. Patterson had discovered Richmond was having an affair with a teenage boy and confronted him over it. There was a fight, Patterson shot him, called the cops in a hysterical mess and, in a drunken fit of guilt and despair, turned the gun on himself. Two dead bodies, apparent open-and-shut case.

I listen to it all, nod, smile, make polite small talk and, feeling like death warmed up, count down the minutes until we can leave.

‘So what do you think?’ Finn asks when departure is finally looking imminent.

‘I think we should get their devices so we can get back to the station.’

‘That’s it?’

‘Yep.’

He sighs. ‘Let me see if I can clear it.’

* * *

‘Lexi. Hey.’

‘What?’ I ask groggily, pissed off at being woken up.

‘You were sleeping like the dead. You okay?’

‘Yeah.’ I force myself to move, to open my eyes, and realise we’re outside my apartment building. I slept all the way back? ‘Why are we here?’

‘You seemed tired. I thought you might prefer to look at the devices from home. Julian and Cait have just gone up.’

‘What? What time is it?’ I glance at the clock—almost four—notice Finn has some work on his lap. ‘You—How long have we been sitting here?’

‘Not that long. I didn’t want to wake you but you might be better off going to bed.’

I climb out and stretch, nodding a greeting to the officers on the door while Finn retrieves everything from the boot of the car.

‘Feeling any better?’

‘Fuck, Finn. I’m pissed at you. Stop being nice.’

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles. ‘Do you want me to carry—’

‘Nope.’ I throw my bag over my arm and take the devices, but turn when Bailee’s car pulls in. When the two have exchanged greetings, I walk towards the door. And—fuck. I stop, stare at the sky for a minute.

‘Thanks,’ I throw over my shoulder at Finn before heading inside.

Cait’s head whips around when we enter and I see my mother on the television. ‘She just came on,’ Cait says. ‘What a tramp! Hi, Bailee.’

As I carefully put the devices on the table, I hear my mother tearfully tell the reporter she was an innocent victim too. That she’d been scared and pressured and trapped and that all she wanted to do was have a relationship with her daughter.

‘That’s nothing like what you told me,’ Cait says.

‘Because she’s lying. Turn it off.’

‘Her acting is almost as good as Vaughn’s,’ Bailee says.

‘It’s all over social media that you saw Jenny Dixon.’

I go straight for my JD. ‘They do like a good story.’

‘Our group chat has put an RIP over Eddie’s picture. He’s bound to be next. Only thing I can’t figure out is who number five will be.’

‘Interestingly, I need one of those too.’

‘Maybe you can convince Jenny Dixon to off Vaughn for you.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Why not?’ Cait asks.

‘Because I can’t cope with a fucking ghost right now!’

‘You may have to.’ She scrolls through her phone and turns it around. There I am, in a Ghostbusters suit: my face superimposed over one of four women battling a floating green blob.

‘Kind of suits you.’ Bailee’s voice trembles with amusement.

I suppose it may as well be funny. It’s certainly better than the one where I’m cuddling a pink blanket and telling Bruce Willis I see dead people. I toss back my drink, unimpressed.

‘I want to talk to you about something serious, though,’ I say to Cait. ‘Those guys. I need to know what drugs they’ve been taking.’

Her face screws up. ‘What makes you think—’

‘I just saw Stewie go from a cowering mess to king of the fucking world, get in a car and kill himself. That’s what makes me think.’

‘I’m not dobbing!’

‘Please, can we do this the easy way?’ I watch Bailee sit back and get comfortable and have to hope my parenting skills are up to the test of madame child psychologist.

‘Is that a threat?’

‘Bet your mermaid hair it is.’ Hmm. Probably just blew it.

‘It’s not mer—’ She huffs and folds her arms, face stubborn. ‘Hard way?’

Fuck me. ‘Okay, I play hardarse and decide to stop you seeing your friends, you arc up and tell me I can’t stop you. I prove I can, you go out of your way to prove me wrong. I dole out consequences, you get the shits, take off and do something stupid. I get to somehow get you out of it, during which you end up having to tell me the one simple little thing I asked for in the first place, before we get to the end, where you pretend to not appreciate me for going through all that time-wasting shit, because you wanted to do things the hard way.’

‘Acid and pot,’ she tells the floor. ‘The guys might have been rolling some meth in with the pot but I’m not sure.’

I take a breath while I try and control the urge not to snap out that she’s never going near any of them ever again. ‘Did you see Dino take anything?’

‘I think he had some acid because the other guys seemed pissed about it. I don’t think they wanted him to. But then Julian was there and we left.’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re not mad?’

‘Do I have reason to be?’

‘I didn’t think you wanted me hanging around anyone doing drugs.’

‘I don’t. But what am I going to say? You see those friends or do that shit and I’ll kick you out? I’m not making a threat I’m not prepared to follow up. I won’t give up on you. Ever. I’ll kick your arse, though. Which would be worse. Don’t do that shit. Don’t risk it.’

‘Softie,’ she mutters as she walks into her room.

I follow her, poke my head around the door, eyes narrow. ‘I will kick your arse.’

Bailee’s grinning at me when I sit down beside her and put my feet on the coffee table.

‘What?’

‘You’re a natural. You should take on some more.’

‘One’s enough.’ I yawn and feel a slight nausea bother my stomach. A clamminess. I’m definitely coming down with something. Great, that’s all I need. I pour another JD anyway. That should kill any bugs. ‘Where’s yours?’

‘Mike’s taken them to a birthday party because I wanted to call around after that press conference yesterday. You did good.’

‘Thanks. How is everything going?’

‘Between Mike and I? Not great,’ she admits. ‘We just can’t seem to get along at all at the moment.’

‘What? Why? How long has this been going on? You haven’t mentioned this!’

Bailee shrugs. ‘There’s no one thing I can pinpoint. Since he’s started his new job he’s been under more pressure and working longer hours and we’ve been sniping at each other a lot … and then there was an argument over money last week that got out of hand and something else with the kids yesterday and his mum got involved and that blew up and he … didn’t come home last night.’

‘Oh, Bailee, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have come here when you two have things to work out. It’s just going to provoke another argument.’ Mike has never been my biggest fan. Bailee prioritising me over their relationship is unlikely to put him in any sort of remorseful mood.

‘What’s one more? And you shouldn’t provoke Vaughn like that. He won’t like it.’

‘Maybe I can rile him into making a mistake. We’re not getting anywhere. I feel like we’re chasing our tails, and waiting around for his next move all the time is doing my head in.’

Bailee’s face darkens. ‘Listening to Olivia talk about you like that yesterday did mine in. I mean, she knows what she’s talking about but she didn’t do you any favours. Has that got something to do with why you and Finn aren’t talking?’

‘I talked to him.’

When she just looks at me, I huff, ‘She said that stuff because she’s got this thing about me. She doesn’t like how I work or that Finn and I—until recently—happened to be friends.’

‘So she’s insecure about their relationship.’

‘So she should be. She’s not right for him.’

‘Oh? Who is?’

‘What? I don’t know. Someone else.’ I think about it some more and add, ‘Anyone else.’

‘Like … you?’

I stare at her for a second in surprise, then laugh. ‘Like me? He can pick up a “like me” on one of several local street corners any night he wants, but there’s no reason for him to ever be that desperate.’

Bailee’s expression twists in objection. ‘Is that really how little you still value yourself? You’re not an escort anymore.’

‘That sort of history sticks.’ I put down my glass, decide I’m still tired. ‘I have no idea why we’re even talking about this. I don’t date, I don’t want to! I just want her to fuck off so everything can go back to normal.’

DV appears on my phone screen and I growl at it. This is exactly what I don’t need today.

‘Is that him?’

I nod, answer it. ‘What?’

‘I can’t let you get away with what you said this morning.’

‘Okay, arsehole. Bring it on. What are you going to do about it?’

‘You went too far. There has to be a consequence. Knives are more satisfying but collateral doesn’t justify the risk. Here we go.’

‘Here we go what? What are you doing?’

‘Reminding you I have no problem with continuing to kill kids if you don’t play nicely. How does having to buy one less Christmas present sound?’

‘Kids? Christmas presents?’ My mind races as I watch the colour leach from Bailee’s face.

‘There’s something about holding a gun in your hand, balancing it there. It’s not quite the rush of a knife but it’s power, right? How did it feel when you shot your father?’

‘What?’

‘It felt good, didn’t it? You enjoyed it. You finally held that power.’

‘If you must know, I felt nothing.’

‘Nothing? And I’m the one with issues? How is one able to kill a parent and feel nothing, yet tell the world they’re not broken? You’re broken, Lexi. And I’m going to break you more. Eeny … meeny—’

‘What’s your word worth, Vaughn?’ I demand desperately. ‘When we started this, you promised you’d never hurt another kid as long as I played your game. You’re breaking your word already? What’s the world going to think of you? All that fake credibility you’ve built is going to go down the toilet! Who’s going to believe we lied about you killing kids if you’ll kill one just to prove a point!’

There’s a pause, a long sigh. ‘This is true. Miny …’ Bang! ‘Moe.’

‘What did you just do?’ I whisper.

‘You owe me an apology. Next time, mind your manners.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

The hospital room is stark under the unforgiving fluorescent lights that cast a cold and sterile pallor over everything. Mike is still as death, connected to tubes and wires that snake out from noisy machines. He’d taken a bullet to the back less than ten metres from where a dozen or so kids were gathered around a picnic table covered in a pretty pink cloth, eating a rainbow cake and playing with colourful balloons. One of the other attending parents was a paramedic. Luckily. Or Mike probably wouldn’t still be here.

Bailee’s barely moved except to swipe at her tear-streaked cheeks and adjust her trembling hands in Mike’s limp one. I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry. She keeps telling me it’s not my fault. But it is.

‘What if he doesn’t make it?’ she asks, not for the first time. ‘What if I lose him?’

‘The doctors are hopeful,’ I repeat, doing my best to ignore the incessant throbbing of my head. It’s two in the morning. I’m genuinely sick and dizzy but I couldn’t sleep so I’m back here. I figure the early morning hours are the worst for being alone in this sort of situation and Bailee could do with the company. But I’m glad I got that sleep in earlier.

‘Hey.’ Finn comes in, bends down to give Bailee a peck on the cheek. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘Stable,’ she says with a nod, as though reassuring herself.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask. Besides the hour, it’s two people max, immediate family only. Must have shown his badge.

He ignores me. ‘Can I get you anything? A coffee? A sandwich?’

Bailee shakes her head. ‘No, thanks. The nurses keep offering. I’m fine.’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ a nurse says. ‘Mrs Kensington is in the waiting room.’

‘Oh, that’s Mike’s mum,’ Bailee says for Finn’s benefit. ‘His parents are coming back and forth, minding the kids in shifts.’

‘I’ll go out so she can come in,’ I offer. ‘I’ll hang around in reception.’

‘No, it’s okay. Go home. I’ll call if I need you. Honestly.’

Because I feel just that bad, I nod reluctantly. Finn says a few words to Bailee and then he’s walking out behind me. I step through the security doors separating ICU from the rest of the hospital and nearly run into Mike’s mother, pacing on the other side. The look I get is pure hatred.

‘What were you doing in there?’

It’s about what I expect but it’s another nasty kick in the gut I don’t need. There’s not a lot of people around, but the ones who are are bored and we have their full attention. I’m pretty sure I’ve been recognised by at least two. One starts covertly filming.

‘Hi, Louise.’

When she lunges at me I’m too stunned to duck and cop the smack to the cheek. It stings enough to make my eyes water.

‘This is all your fault!’ she spits at me as tears erupt from her eyes.

Finn steps between us to talk calmly to Louise and the nurse behind the desk jumps on the phone, no doubt calling for security. Perfect. Arsehole with the phone isn’t even pretending not to be recording now.

‘I’m sorry for what happened,’ I tell her feebly over Finn’s attempts to calm her down, then step around her, past the security guards powering towards the ICU and into a lift right as it’s closing. There’s a tightness in my throat, a weight that feels like a concrete block. I swallow it, take a deep breath. She’s right. It is my fault. Bailee could lose her husband because I got frustrated with a demented serial killer and couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

I step out of the lift and head for the hospital entrance. I chose to play this game, and I don’t have a clue what to do next. People around me are getting hurt while I’m getting nowhere. My head pounds. The hot spike of tears threatens and I furiously blink them back. One thing I won’t be is pathetic, even if I feel pretty damn close.

‘Lexi!’

‘Go away, Finn.’

‘Love to. But you came to the hospital without Julian and now everyone’s scrambling to catch up. You know you shouldn’t be alone.’

‘I hardly just disappeared—I had the cops following me over here!’

‘And now you’re walking back by yourself.’

‘I’m walking back with you!’ I don’t bother to tell him if he hadn’t shown, I would have called the same cops to walk me out and follow me home. I don’t want Julian too far from Cait when I’m not there at night, but I don’t need the fallout I’d cop from Rachael over not doing things reasonably in line with her idea of safely.

Half-a-dozen young men in sloppy clothes are sitting on the wall of the carpark, watching their phones. There’s a few ooh!s and laughter. Alcohol or drugs? One or the other, maybe both, at work there, I decide, and wonder what made them choose to hang out in a hospital carpark for the evening. One looks up and nudges his mate before jumping from his perch.

‘Hey, if it’s not Constable Winter,’ he taunts. ‘How’s the cheek?’

‘Well, that took all of five minutes,’ I mutter.

‘Can we get a selfie with you?’

‘Not now. Sorry.’

A couple more jump down, then they’re shuffling around, circling us.

‘Aw, come on. Give us something to post with ya. We wanna be famous too!’

‘Back off,’ Finn says when one gets too close to me.

One laughs. ‘Hey, careful, the boyfriend’s getting pissed.’

‘I’m just talking to her!’

‘Detective Sergeant Finn Carson,’ Finn warns him with a quick show of his ID. ‘Get out of here.’

They start to back up, then one who’s been sitting back, watching, jumps down and gets in front of us.

‘Hey, you know what that ID would be worth? We could get some serious cash for that.’

‘Or some serious time for attempting to take it off me,’ Finn says, looming over him.

The boy lifts his hands, palms out, and steps back. ‘Just mucking around.’ But I see his eyes shift to behind Finn just a little too late. Two of the others have snuck around behind him and they grab an arm each.

‘Really?’ Finn demands. ‘Are you trying to get locked up?’

The one who was interested in the ID goes for Finn’s wallet. I get in his way. He’ll be lucky if I don’t puke on him. ‘I am so fucking not in the mood for this!’ I warn him.

‘Oh, yeah?’ A slow smile slides across his face. ‘What are ya in the mood for, honey?’ he asks suggestively, before grabbing at me.

Finn shakes the two holding him off like flies. The ringleader hits the ground hard, Finn’s knee in his stomach and a fist aimed at his face.

‘Finn!’ I shout in shock.

I see his chest heave then he drags the now compliant dickhead up by the collar of his shirt.

‘Can I play too?’ Julian asks, appearing from behind me.

A middle-aged couple walk by on their way to their car. They hesitate, but the sudden influx of extra people has the gang backing up. The one Finn’s still got by the scruff of his t-shirt is sweating.

‘Serious, man, we’re just having some fun. We didn’t mean nothing.’

‘What’s going on?’ the man of the couple calls out.

‘It’s fine, we’re police,’ Julian calls back.

Finn’s captive takes advantage of the distraction to pull out of his t-shirt. I watch the boys leg it out of the carpark and down the street, leaving Finn holding his clothing. He tosses it straight in the bin by the lift.

‘Who’s with Cait?’ I ask Julian.

‘There’re officers in the building and on the door.’ Then to Finn, he says, ‘Sorry to drag you out of bed. The officers should have called me, not you.’

‘It’s fine,’ Finn says tightly. ‘She goes anywhere without you, they let me know. Day or night. Take her home.’

He walks away without so much as a glance in my direction.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Sunday, October 22

I open my eyes and take a moment to assess how I feel. Still pretty heavy-headed. Between feeling like shit and spending most of yesterday on and off the phone to Bailee because I’m not exactly welcome at the hospital, I didn’t go into work or get much done. I know I have to get my act together but there’s a part of me that wonders why. This was never going to be a game I could win. Vaughn wanted me miserable and here I am. He wanted me exposed to the world and the neon flashing lights are well and truly up. He wanted my credibility gone and, hell, I’m doing a pretty good job of making myself look like an idiot. I don’t think I’m insane. Yet. The media does because ghost-in-a-white-dress, so maybe. But I’m still alive. So far.

Guilt crashes in. I am. I haven’t heard from Bailee this morning so I have to hope that Mike is. I force myself to get up, make a coffee and step out onto my balcony for some fresh air. There’s plenty of media camped out on the grass in front of the church next to the station and, surprise, someone’s taking my photo. I try and imagine what the caption will be. Something like, A leisurely Sunday morning coffee while Vaughn terrorises the city. Or Lazy morning at home as brother-in-law fights for life. I probably don’t have to make them up. It’s been, what? Thirty seconds? The pic along with caption is probably already on social media for me to look up. I briefly consider sending them a wave, wonder what sort of uproar that would cause. Credibility zero.

Fuck credibility, I have to make sure Vaughn isn’t planning any further retaliation. I owe him an apology. It almost kills me, but the image of Kai or Lucy in that hospital bed where Mike’s fighting for life has me tossing my ego out the window.

I give up on my coffee and prepare a speech that will crush the last of my self-respect under the boot of the media. Then I text Julian.

‘Gotta talk to the cameras,’ I tell him as I let him in.

‘Again? Last time—Are you sure?’ Poor guy looks like I feel: as though he might be about to pass out.

‘Come or don’t,’ I say, not giving him a chance to argue.

I’ve only made it a few steps past the cover of the hedge that borders my building when the media start running at me like a flock of awkward, gear-flapping seagulls.

‘Lexi! How is your brother-in-law?’

‘Lexi! What do you have to say to Damon Vaughn?’

‘Lexi! Do you think your comments—’

I raise a hand and step up onto the low brick wall of the church so I feel less suffocated. Fuck, here we go. I do my best to channel my inner Rachael.

‘What I’m about to say comes from a sense of responsibility rather than my personal feelings, but I believe it’s crucial for the safety of our community. I’d like to address the comments I have previously made about Damon Vaughn. They were unnecessarily harsh and dismissive, and fuelled by frustration and anger. I apologise to Vaughn for my lack of professionalism in this matter. My intention in issuing this apology is not to diminish or downplay the threat Vaughn poses, simply to prevent any further retaliation to my family or the general public. That is all.’

The reporters surround me with microphones and more questions, but it’s the crowd that was hanging with them—Vaughn’s intermittent cheer squad—that has come in around them, pushing and shoving forcefully, which becomes the problem. They’re reaching for me, grabbing at me. One is hitting at me with a banner.

‘Bitch!’

‘Liar!’

‘Cop scum!’

Julian is in the fray, doing his best to drag them back, and I see one dickhead, then a second, launched onto the roadside. I move a few myself, then flail back, stunned as a sign bearer cracks me over the head with her Vaughn forever placard. I don’t dare risk going down, so all my efforts go into keeping my legs under me. Someone grabs me, yanking me through a chaotic sea of bodies as the weight of others shifts and parts. My hair is snagged, then painfully ripped from my scalp. Glimpses of uniforms flash before my eyes—more cops have arrived.

The grip on my clothing eases as I’m tucked under an arm; it’s Finn. After Friday night’s events, I’m surprised he didn’t leave me out there. He wraps himself protectively around me, propelling me towards and then into the station. More cops surround us, guarding the door and keeping the riot outside.

Though we’re in, Finn keeps the momentum going, climbing the stairs without uttering a word, leading me to one of the offices on the taskforce floor and sitting me down.

‘Stay there,’ he orders before disappearing, returning a moment later with a bottle of water. He cracks the lid and hands it to me.

My hand trembles slightly as I accept it.

An officer appears. ‘Sorry, detective, but Constable Winter is re—’

Finn slams the door shut without sparing the officer a second glance.

Fuck.

He spins a chair around and sits opposite me, elbows on knees, fingers linked, a look on his face that doesn’t encourage small talk.

I swallow some water. Take another moment to steady myself. ‘I suppose you want—’

‘Nope.’

‘So why am I here?’

‘To give you time to calm down before you go out there and cop it.’

‘Great. Why are you here?’

‘To give me time to calm down before I go out there and someone else cops it.’

We sit in silence for another full minute, maybe two.

‘Inspector’s addressing the media downstairs!’ someone calls out.

He looks at me. ‘We should probably hear this.’

We step into the taskforce room. I ignore the stares as my eyes are drawn straight to the screen. Rachael is at her most pissed off.

‘I’ve completely lost my faith in humanity! How did we drift so far from basic common sense? I’m speaking directly to the misguided contingent who sit quietly on their hands and say nothing while Vaughn brutally takes life after life and have the nerve to cry injustice at Constable Winter for holding him accountable! Can any of you please explain to me how the woman devoting every waking moment to protecting the public is the villain? Anyone who thinks Damon Vaughn is some sort of saviour to humanity or deserves a free pass on his vile crimes because of his psychoses needs to seek their own therapy! It seems that, to the more gullible among us, being compassionate, understanding and sympathetic towards these twisted perpetrators has taken precedence over protecting the innocent!

‘Enough is enough! The noisy, bleeding-heart nutcases who believe anything they see on their screens yet don’t have the first clue what’s really going on need to stand down and shut up. And anyone, anyone, including those we’ve arrested today, who attempts to attack any of my officers will have the full force of the law driven down on their heads! Clear?’

‘Is it a little harsh to call them nutcases when they’re simply expressing—’

‘How can any sane human being witness such blatant evil and actually rally behind it, excuse it for any reason?’

When Rachael turns and walks away, I do the same in the taskforce room. Only the whole room spins and my vision floods with stars then fades out.

* * *

‘Lexi! Are you all right?’ Cait rushes to meet me as I step through the door.

‘Yep. Julian’s gonna have a decent black eye though,’ I say and point a thumb over my shoulder, hoping to divert the sympathy. Finn’s glued to my back in case I decide to pass out again. I grab my JD and sit on the lounge, scrolling through my phone while Cait oohs and ahhs over Julian’s shiner. I’m tired again. Drained. I don’t remember ever feeling this kind of continual mental exhaustion.

Finn takes the JD and replaces it with water. I glare but comply.

‘What happened?’ Cait says, coming to sit next to me.

‘Just tired, that’s all,’ I tell her, because everyone’s decided it’s stress or exhaustion and it’s somehow going to kill me before Vaughn does. Ha.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.’

Her face relaxes. ‘How good was Rachael!’ she says, eyes lighting up. ‘She really let them have it!’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you talk to her?’

‘More got talked at.’

‘Oh, you think you copped it?’ Julian complains.

Cait giggles. ‘It’s not your fault she charged out there to take on the world.’

‘I don’t think Rachael agrees with you,’ he says. ‘I might head downstairs,’ he tells me, then says with a look that’s almost pleading, ‘Please don’t go out again today.’

‘Not planning on it. Sorry again about your face.’

‘Line of duty,’ he says with a dramatic sigh. ‘Oh, the one with the red mullet that grabbed your hair?’

‘Didn’t see him, just felt it.’

‘He might be missing a tooth or two. Just wanted to leave you with something to smile about.’

‘And you have. Thanks.’ I sip my water and wonder what to do. Sleep appeals but it’s not even lunchtime.

‘Zander called,’ Cait says. ‘He was gonna come over but I told him we were all here and not to worry. He said to tell you he’s got a line on something to chase up for you, but that’s all I got because then Rodger got on and said he saw what happened on the news and I had to tell you has he taught you fucking nothing, because you should have smashed the lot of them and that you’re in for some serious shit if you don’t get your arse back there soon.’

‘Hmm. Thanks.’

Cait grins and puts in her ear buds. As she shuts her bedroom door, there’s a knock at the front door.

While Finn answers it, I take the opportunity to snatch my JD back and take a few welcome gulps. Its spreading warmth is immediately steadying.

Bailee walks in. ‘Why are you drinking at this time of the day?’ she asks.

‘She’s not—’ Finn spots the bottle and sighs.

‘How’s Mike?’ I ask.

‘Still in ICU but the doctors are saying it’s looking good. I got a phone call, wanted to see how you were.’

‘Not in ICU,’ I say with a glare at Finn.

‘It was Rachael,’ he tells me.

‘And I would have come anyway,’ says Bailee. ‘I saw you get mobbed.’

‘Yes. Yes, I did.’

‘Apologising to Vaughn. Why would you do that?’

I stare at her. ‘Because he shot your husband.’

‘And?’

‘And demanded one.’

‘So, what? You just do as you’re told now?’

‘For all I know, he’d have gone after you next.’

‘And that would have been your fault? The only way you’ll stop him hurting everyone is to catch him, not by playing Simon says.’

I can feel my head starting to ache and spin again. My stomach rolls. I can’t be bothered with this. ‘Thanks, Bailee, I’ll just chalk that up to one more thing I’ve gotten wrong.’

She looks me up and down. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

I shrug. ‘Just post-mobbed out I guess.’ Another roll of my stomach. I put down the JD. Bad idea.

‘Are you angry with me?’

I sigh, tiredly. ‘Why would I be angry with you?’

‘Because of how Mike’s mum went on. I saw it on Facebook. Saw her hit you.’

‘So did nearly half a million other people, last time I checked. Some of the memes are hysterical.’ I hear my voice slur, wonder at it.

She snatches the JD from the table. ‘How drunk are you?’

‘I’m not drunk! I’ve had two sips.’

‘Then what’s going on?’

I shrug. ‘Not much. I thought I could do it. I can’t.’

‘Can’t what?’

‘Figure it out, win the game, beat Vaughn.’ I get to my feet and drag myself to the door. ‘I think visiting hours are over, everyone.’

‘She should probably get some rest,’ Finn tells Bailee.

‘You haven’t really given up?’ Bailee asks me.

‘It’s not like anyone seems to want me to win, anyway. Poor Vaughn, right? People’s hero. You should go back to the hospital and be with Mike.’

I smile and shut the door on them before she can object. I really need to sit.

Cait re-emerges from her room. ‘Lizzy’s coming over with food. Want to watch the Jenny Dixon movie with us? It’s not bad.’

‘Yeah, sure. A horror movie is probably exactly what I need right now.’

* * *

Despite the lagging tiredness and the late hour, it takes too long to get to sleep. When I do, I toss and turn, every small noise bothering me.

‘Lexi.’

I vault into a sitting position. Ignore the spinning of my head. Did I hear that? I wait, ears straining to listen in the heavy silence. Maybe the girls are up watching something in the next room.

When I hear nothing else, I lie back down. Close my eyes.

‘Lexi.’

Fuck! I get up, pissed off because, a second before that first whisper I think I’d finally passed out and now I’m wide awake again. I step out into the lounge. No lights on. I crack Cait’s door. Both girls are sleeping. What the fuck? I pad to the front door. Check the peephole. Nope. I press a hand to my sick stomach and check my phone. It’s absolutely not connected to anyone or anything.

Sleep deprivation? Insanity? Whatever. I get back into bed and toss around as I get myself comfortable, flopping my head onto the pillow.

‘Lexi.’

Okay, no! Just no!

I fling back the covers, turn on the light and look around the room. This is not sleep deprivation, or insanity, this is most definitely someone whispering my name. I look out the window. A whisper from fifty feet below? At this point, I’m not ruling anything out. But I can’t see anyone.

I sit for another ten minutes. Nothing. I turn off the light and put my head on the pillow.

‘Lexi.’

As furious as I am freaked at this point, I flick the light back on, rip my pillowcase off and shake it, then pull the stuffing from the pillow to form a cloud of white fluff at my feet. When I find nothing, I repeat the exercise with the other pillow, then strip the bed, pull apart the wardrobe, shake out my clothes, the curtains. I move everything, check under everything.

When the room officially looks like a bombsite and I still can’t find the source of the sound, I sit, defeated, on my unmade bed. My head is pounding, my vision is blurred and my stomach is churning, but mostly there’s a sharp sliver of fear that won’t leave me alone. Not because someone might be here, but because someone might not be.

What is wrong with me? I get up, close the door on my room and lie on the lounge.

‘Lexi.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Monday, October 23

‘But has the constable-slash-ghosthunter achieved much other than getting her brother-in-law shot?’ one reporter asked another.

‘I think to give her her due, Mark, there’s not been a lot to go on.’

‘But if she does get that opportunity to capture Vaughn, can we be sure she won’t let her emotions get in the way of proper police work? How does a child forced to shoot her own father even get to where she is today? We’ve heard about the terrible after-effects of such things. The toll it takes.’

‘And we’ve heard from Constable Winter that nothing is insurmountable. I wouldn’t be giving up on her just yet, Mark.’

‘Time will tell. Meanwhile, Vaughn is gathering a lot of vocal support out there from those who’d like to see reform within the justice system.’

Finn snarled at the morning TV show and, reading Rachael’s text summons, went looking for her in her office.

‘I assure you it’s in the best possible hands. You won’t get a better team. If you want to add manpower, be my guest, but I assure you every possible lead is being chased up. Thank you. Goodbye.’

‘Problem?’ he asked when she ended the call.

‘Just the occasional bit of expected flack from above.’

‘You wanted to see me?’

‘Press conference is in half an hour and Julian is stating Lexi may not be coming in today. How was she when you left her yesterday?’

‘Not herself. Not well.’ He didn’t add he’d tried calling enough times last night that Cait had eventually answered and told him Lexi had gone to bed. Was asleep.

‘Try and get hold of her, would you? My suggestion she see a doctor went down like a lead balloon, but if she doesn’t come in this morning, I’m going over there to insist.’

He got on the phone and when he couldn’t reach Lexi, called Bailee.

‘I was on my way over to see her,’ Bailee said. ‘Just pulled up outside her building. I’m really worried about her. She’s not there?’

‘She hasn’t come in.’

‘Did you see the horrible things they put in the newspaper this morning? And I hope to hell she didn’t read that stupid trash story about her so-called childhood “shooting rampage” I spotted yesterday on the magazine rack coming out of Coles. It’s madness!’

‘What do I do?’ he blurted.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, you’re not the only one that’s worried. I need to do something, but I don’t know what. You’re her sister, you’re a psychologist. So tell me.’

A long, thoughtful pause, then Bailee said, ‘I’ve only got a few minutes up my sleeve this morning and I think it might be better spent over there. You’ve got a press conference starting soon, right?’

‘Er … yes?’

‘Give me five minutes.’

He ended the call and went out to find Rachael. The team was moving towards the stairs for the conference.

‘Well?’ Rachael asked.

‘Bailee’s coming.’

‘Bailee. Why?’

‘She wants to meet us before the press conference.’

Rachael checked the time. ‘She’d better hurry.’

‘She’s right next door … actually, no, she’s not.’ He pointed at Bailee as she rushed towards them.

‘Rachael,’ she said. ‘I need to speak to the media.’

Rachael briefly considered her, then nodded. ‘I’ll get the preliminaries out of the way, then you’re up.’

Finn took a seat next to Bailee at the table, feeling the determined energy pouring off her in waves. Some were nerves, more were anger. A fidget here and there, but an unwavering focus. Not unlike Lexi, he thought. Sisters absolutely.

Bailee almost jumped from her seat when Rachael finally introduced her.

‘Good morning,’ she began. ‘As Inspector Langley said, I’m Bailee Kensington. I’m Constable Lexi Winter’s sister. I told myself I wouldn’t engage with the media and I’ve adamantly declined to do so up until now. But I’ve had enough! That headline one of you in this room thought fit to publish this morning alleging my sister is responsible for my husband being shot is the final, appalling straw.

‘Damon Vaughn shot my husband. It’s no one’s fault but his. When you stand up to bullies, they retaliate. It’s why so many spineless wonders are afraid of them. My sister Lexi possesses more courage than that. She couldn’t have known what he would do, only that he’ll continue to hurt anyone he feels like hurting until he’s apprehended. And that’s what needs to happen. He must be stopped.

‘Anyone believing this man is some sort of hero is deluded. He’s playing you, and you’re lapping it up. As a child psychologist who has worked with Lexi on cases in the past, I know what kind of monster this man is. I only wish those of you who choose to refute that could witness the videos for yourself. But of course, we can’t show you those, because they’re too violent, too heinous. Too horrific.

‘Horrific. That’s a word I stumbled upon in a magazine article yesterday referring to the actions Lexi took one night in order to save, not herself, but me, from a horrendous situation. Yes, she shot my father and I’ve read a lot of rubbish, heard a lot of speculation and countless false narratives from people who know nothing but claim to possess all the juicy facts everyone seems so desperate for. Well, you want them, the real gruesome details? Here they are!’

Oh God, Bailee, no, Finn thought as he wondered what Lexi’s reaction would be. As far as he knew, she’d never told anyone the story. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate it being broadcast like this.

‘Lexi was ten, I was five. We were woken in the middle of the night and summoned downstairs by two iced-up parents and a regular guest, Mr Biddle, aka the Spider. You might remember him as Australia’s worst paedophile. Lexi had left some sour milk on the kitchen bench. She’d meant to throw it away but amid all the other chores she had to do every day after school, she’d forgotten, so we copped it. Our mother thought it would be funny to hurl abuse at us while she forced the milk down my throat. Lexi dared to object. Daddy decided punishment would be what it always was, a new video session with the Spider. Except, the Spider didn’t want Lexi anymore. Oh, she was still tiny for her age—we didn’t get a lot to eat, you see. Mostly they forgot to feed us. But the Spider decided that, at ten, she was getting too old to make good money, so he offered to pay them a lot more for a go at me.’

Bailee paused and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘There was a lot of screaming, mine terrified and Lexi’s terrified for me, as I was slung over that paedophile’s shoulders, carted upstairs to where the camera was set up. I don’t know what happened between our mother and Lexi in those few minutes, but I know that as I was pinned to that bed sobbing, Lexi, who’d always been frightened and quiet and obedient, appeared in the doorway with Daddy’s gun. I had my eyes squeezed shut so tight until I heard her say in a voice I’d never heard come from her before, “Hey, Daddy, guess what?” I remember opening my eyes to make sure it was her. I remember in that moment she was different. Like the life had all been sucked out of her. I remember there was no fear, no spark. But she lifted that gun and told Daddy she wasn’t his little girl anymore and she pulled the trigger. When he fell down, she turned the gun on the Spider and she did it again.’

Bailee visibly swallowed as her eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘She saved me.’ Another pause as her voice broke. ‘She—she stopped those monsters from destroying her little sister. As young as I was, I knew something inside her had broken. But she got me somewhere safe and then she went away.

‘She took all of that with her and carried it for years. She survived the worst of the worst on the streets. She made some bad choices but then she made some good ones. She began helping other kids, stopping other paedophiles. She joined the police and she hasn’t stopped. She hasn’t stopped helping. And through helping, she found a way to heal.

‘So I’m here to beg you to please, stop. To stop with the nasty articles, with the lies, with the hate. To those of you out there who’ve never experienced a significant challenge in your lives, to those who’ve been looking down at her, getting a kick out of believing the worst, even physically attacking her. To those who are unfathomably siding with a predator who’d rip your child to pieces for an ego boost and some easy cash, I want you to think about what I just told you and take a look at yourselves and ask if you’re better than that.’ Her eyes looked straight into the cameras. ‘I really hope you are.’

She stepped down to absolute silence. Then questions erupted. She ignored them all and walked out.

As far as punches to the gut went, Bailee had delivered a stunner.

Rachael took the stand and calmed the crowd, answered questions that now seemed mundane and closed the session.

‘Incredible,’ she said as she jogged back up the stairs. ‘I think she’s done more for Lexi in five minutes than our experts have since this started.’

‘I’m not sure Lexi’s going to appreciate it.’

‘I’m sure of that. But, God, Finn.’

‘Just don’t put me in a room alone with Carrie Winter.’ He reached for his phone and read the message. ‘That’s Julian. He said to get over there.’

Rachael glanced at him, tight-lipped. ‘Let the fallout begin.’

* * *

Julian was outside when they arrived. ‘The girls came out when I arrived to take them to school and Cait said Lexi was sleeping. That it looked like she’d had a rough night. She would probably be fine once she slept it off but if she wasn’t awake when I got back that maybe I should call you. She was considering staying home but I told her not to. When I got back and didn’t get a response from Lexi I got worried and went in and … Well, I called you.’ He opened the door.

Finn stepped in behind Rachael and took in the scene in shock. Everything in the house had been turned upside down. Lexi sat cross-legged in pyjama shorts and a singlet in the middle of the mess on the lounge-room floor, staring at the television.

‘Lexi,’ Rachael began gently, walking in, ‘tell me about—’

‘The couple of minutes with my completely whacked-out mother the world doesn’t now know? Fine,’ she said, still staring at the screen. ‘I wanted them to stop. I told her she was supposed to care about us. So she smacked me around, laughed, told me I was a pay cheque, a little slut that didn’t matter. Then she took BJ’s gun off the shelf, said she could kill me and no one would care, and passed out just as her hand convulsed against my throat with her finger on the trigger. Somehow the gun didn’t go off, so I picked it up and the rest is history. Happy?’

Finn’s blood boiled, his breath shuddering out in barely contained fury at the woman he held so much contempt for. He looked at Rachael, whose gaze said: Be calm. He did his best to rein his anger back.

‘I’m happy you’re not dead,’ Rachael told Lexi. ‘I’m not so happy I let that bitch walk. What I wanted you to tell me was what I can do for you, right now.’

Lexi finally took her eyes off the television. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Can I make you a coffee, find you some panadol, help you clean up? If you’re feeling a bit stuck on what Bailee just announced, I can help you brief your own statement, issue a warning to the press threatening legal action against continued slanderous reporting. Just tell me what you need.’

‘I need you to stop talking to me like I’m unstable,’ she said.

‘I’m not sure I’m prepared to alter my course until I know what went on here.’

‘Then Vaughn’s achieved another goal. So talk to me however you want.’ She turned away again.

‘You’re not crazy.’

‘I heard voices last night. They were whispering, but I couldn’t figure out where from.’

‘Okay. I really think you should—’

‘No. I’m not quite ready for anyone to tell me what they think I should do today. I think you should both just please go back to the station and leave me alone.’

‘If you’ll agree to see someone, I can—’

Lexi pressed her eyes closed with a scowl. ‘Out!’

‘You should go back, keep the case moving,’ Finn told Rachael. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Rachael’s small smile was enough to let him know she thought he was doing the right thing. He hoped so.

He walked across the room and sat on the lounge, prepared to sit there all day if necessary. ‘So, tell me about these voices.’

‘It was just one, I think. Couldn’t find an owner.’

‘You obviously tried pretty hard.’ He picked up an empty jar. ‘Couldn’t find them in the coffee?’

‘Nature and nurture—genetics and experience. How can I be anything but screwed up?’

‘I suppose so. Though the arsehole that abused you was your stepfather, so no genes there. Your mother was screwed up by drugs. That’s what drugs do. So what genes are at fault? And you were only with them until you were ten. That’s not a lot of nurture.’

‘Yeah, but apparently your character is set by seven.’

‘You mean the character that allowed you to stand up to your so-called parents, save your sister and survive on your own?’

She barked out, ‘Ha!’ as she jumped to her feet. ‘You mean the one that allowed me to shoot two men, run to the streets, work for an outlaw motorcycle gang and prostitute myself for a roof over my head? Yeah, my character’s first fucking rate.’

‘It allowed you to survive. You also mastered computer hacking; exposed a major child paedophile ring; escaped Vaughn; saved my daughter’s life; protected countless other children from abuse; became a cop; brought down a major Sydney crime syndicate; stopped a nutcase blowing up a family, several cops and police headquarters; received one of the highest damn honours that can be bestowed on a police officer and now you’re going to help us catch Vaughn once and for all. So stop getting in your own way. We don’t have time for it. We need you.’

She stared at him, dragged in a ragged breath then turned away. ‘I can’t.’

Looking at her, he believed it. She didn’t deserve this. But there was no choice. He got up.

‘I know it’s tough. But, hey,’ he said, turning her around, ‘Lexi Winter does not give up.’

‘I can’t sleep, I’m jumping at every sound, I’m seeing ghosts, hearing voices, I nearly killed my sister’s husband, a lunatic wants to cut me to pieces, I’m terrified you’ll be next—’ Her voice broke and her head dropped as exhausted tears welled in her eyes. ‘And my fucking mother …’

‘I’ll shut the bitch up today. Say the word,’ he promised, and meant it. ‘And as for Vaughn, we can’t control what he does until we find him. And we won’t find him if we give in to his mind games. Hey, look at me! This is what he wants! You’re not going to give him what he wants, are you?’

A single tear fell. She stepped towards him and his arms automatically went around her. Lexi never leant, never hugged, never sought comfort, and maybe because of that, the overwhelming desire to protect and defend her hit him hard.

When her phone rang, he glanced at it, and the magnitude of the hate he felt for the caller was blinding.

‘Lex,’ he murmured regretfully.

She pulled away, sniffed and saw the caller ID. ‘Fuck!’ She snatched it up. ‘What?’

‘If it’s not your mother stealing my spotlight, it’s your sister. That was quite the performance.’

‘Worried you’ll lose a few fans?’

‘You’ve got Bailee, I’ve got Carrie. She doesn’t seem to think you’re treating her fairly.’

‘Well, everything’s always been about her.’

‘She’s entertaining.’

‘She’s a callous, self-serving, money-hungry, waste of oxygen who thrives on attention. You should meet up. You’d get on like a house on fire.’

He chuckled lightly. ‘Luckily that’s not what you chose to say on camera yesterday. And … in light of that humble apology, I might have to help you out.’

‘Planning on killing yourself?’

‘A present. Think special event.’

‘You promised no more kids!’

‘See, this is the problem. You’re not concentrating. Time’s almost up, Lexi. Get your head back in the game. The show is about me!’

The line went dead. Lexi threw the phone onto the lounge and grabbed her hair.

‘Hey …’ Finn reached for her but she threw up her hands to ward him off.

‘I need to think.’ She strode across the room and poured herself a generous JD. ‘His special events were always about rape and murder. If it’s not that, then what?’

He could see the angry rise and fall of her chest as she paced, the intense look of concentration as she thought through Vaughn’s words.

‘I hate this guy. I fucking hate this guy.’

‘Why don’t you come into the office? We’ll brainstorm—’

‘Vaughn seems to think I should know this! So I should know this! I can do this, so please, just … go. I need to focus.’

‘But—’

‘I’m okay. Please, Finn! Leave!’

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Tuesday, October 24

‘We haven’t seen her leave her apartment since the weekend. Do you think she’s fit to continue? Should we be concerned?’

‘At this point we can’t really speculate as to what’s going on, Mark. All we know is, time’s ticking away and it seems Lexi Winter is absent.’

‘Fucking arseholes.’ Cait clicks off the TV and dumps the remains of her post-school leftovers in the bin. ‘Can I tell them to go fuck themselves?’

‘No. We’re supposed to be keeping the fans onside and since Bailee cried on air, I seem to have more of those.’

‘Fine. Can I offer to help them go fuck themselves?’

That drags a reluctant smile out of me. ‘I appreciate the loyalty.’

‘Have you been sleeping all day?’

‘No, why?’ It’s not quite a lie.

‘It looks like it.’

‘Thanks! I’m still just trying to shake this flu or whatever.’

‘Is it still cool if I go to the movies with Lizzy this arvo? Julian’s good to go.’

‘Yeah, of course.’ And then, deciding that if I’m going to stay awake long enough to get anything done I probably do need to freshen up, I say, ‘I think I’ll have a shower.’

‘Cool, I’ll make you a coffee before I go.’

By the time I come out of the bathroom, Cait’s left with Julian. There’s a newspaper on the table; more debate over my capability to solve this case and speculation over my current mental state on page 3. Nice. I consider pouring a splash of JD into the coffee Cait’s left me. But I’m still drowning in this damn brain fog, so I resist.

Someone’s at the door, so I drag myself over and—

‘Oh, fuck no,’ I say, shutting it again when I see Olivia standing there.

‘Lexi—wait!’ She gets a hand on the door and holds it partially open.

‘What?’

‘You look like crap.’

‘Well, now that you’ve said what you came to say …’

‘Have you slept?’

‘Look, whatever this is, I don’t care.’

‘I thought it would be good to talk. Just us.’

‘Nup,’ I say, walking back to my coffee.

‘Please?’

I spin around. ‘Why?’

‘Because we’ve never actually had a conversation.’ She tentatively comes in, shuts the door. ‘It’s all just bits and pieces at headquarters that somehow … turn out badly.’

‘Because somehow you never miss an opportunity to try and make me look like a freak.’

‘That’s not my intention.’

‘Like fuck it’s not.’

‘I’m trying to help. I’m just … not going about it very well.’

‘Bullshit and no shit.’

She turns away and stares at the wall, visibly blows out a breath before trying again. ‘Do you know how intimidating you are?’

A laugh explodes from my throat. ‘So add that to your list and fuck off.’

‘You think I have a list?’

‘Oh, I know you do. What I think—scratch that—what I strongly suspect is that Finn asked you to come here and fix things. If he didn’t, you came here hoping to do that anyway for the purpose of running back to tell him what a good girl you are, how hard you tried, what a lost cause I am.’

‘Finn would never believe that about you.’

‘Well, sorry about that. Are we done?’

‘God, you are so frustrating!’ she explodes, striding past me into the lounge before turning furious eyes on me. ‘For some reason I’m struggling to remember right now, I actually want to help you!’

‘Still don’t believe it. Sorry.’

Olivia presses her fingers to her brow. ‘How’s this? This is a really big, really public case, and I need to impress Rachael. I refuse to not win.’

‘At least you’re being honest now. Want me to be?’

She lifts her hands in defence. ‘Before you do your best to leave me in a bleeding mess on the floor, just listen for one more minute. Okay? Like it or not, I’m a psychologist. I see things other people don’t. I see things in terms of patterns of behaviours and symptoms of disorders and sometimes I may come across as—’

‘Rude, condescending—’

‘A little too clinical and possibly lacking in sensitivity but not everything I say is a personal attack on you. I’m not making this about you—Vaughn is! You suffered what is undeniably serious trauma during childhood. I mean, by anyone’s standards, it’s up there. But everyone carries around some sort of trauma from life. You need to recognise it, own it, understand it and even use it. I can help you with that. I want to.’

‘Oh? What happened to “In my professional opinion. Lexi Winter will never be suitable for the police force”?’ I say, quoting from the letter she used against me during the last case.

She stares for a moment in surprise. ‘You knew about that, too? You didn’t say anything. I was—’

‘A little too clinical and lacking in sensitivity? Or jealous of my friendship with Finn?’

‘So I’m not perfect.’

‘Wow.’

‘And maybe I can be rude and condescending and competitive—even nasty—and I don’t like losing, but seriously, go take a look in a mirror.’

‘Oh, ow!’

She huffs out a laugh and flops on my lounge. ‘Lexi, I’m leaving soon.’

‘What?’

‘I’ve been offered a position in Canberra and I’ve accepted it.’

‘Does Finn know?’

‘Yes, we broke up. Didn’t he tell you? What I’m saying is, I’m not doing this to score points with Finn. Let me help. I want to win, you want to live. Works for both of us, right?’

‘You can help with Vaughn.’

‘Code for “no helpful advice for you”?’

I stare at her blankly while whatever it is about that comment that’s grabbed my attention sinks in. Code … A present. Think special event.

‘Olivia, you’re a fucking genius!’

‘What?’

I’m striding towards the door. ‘I have to go!’

* * *

We burst into the taskforce room. ‘Neutron!’ I snap, bringing not just Neutron but just about everyone in the room to attention. ‘We need to bring up the Spider website.’

‘Lexi, you’re here! What’s going on?’ Rachael asks.

‘It’s in the code.’

‘What is?’

‘Vaughn said he wanted to help me out. He said he had a present for me. To think special event. So, birthday—present, Christmas—card, Easter—’

‘Easter eggs!’ Neutron jumps on the website as I put my laptop down beside his and open it up. ‘Pulling up the source code.’

‘What are you two talking about?’

‘In computer software, Easter eggs refer to hidden surprises triggered by a series of commands,’ Neutron explains. ‘Anything from a basic text message or image to a screen displaying credits for the programmers or even a small hidden video game within the software. They can be a concealed message or a joke, a pop culture reference, a credit or graphics or sound effects generated by the program … Nothing obvious at first glance though,’ he says, checking.

‘It was never going to be that easy. I thought about trying to rig up a program to hunt for them but I thought you might already have one,’ I say, also scrolling.

‘I do. I have a fast one that’ll check for anything obvious: code comments, console messages, konami code, hover states and magic strings—’

‘That’s obvious?’ Finn asks in disbelief.

‘—but anything much more complex and we’ll have to move into something more serious, which will take a bit more time. I’m on it.’

‘Justice,’ I murmur.

‘What?’ Neutron asks.

‘I don’t need a program—look at the word “justice”. It’s everywhere. Neutron, search for other repetitive word patterns in the code.’

He hits a few keys and three words spring into highlighted life, dotted over and over throughout the page.

‘Justice or joke,’ he says.

‘Justice or joke … justice or joke,’ I mutter.

‘You were right, there was something to that,’ Rachael says.

‘Catch us up?’ Finn asks.

‘Brookes was carrying on about the justice system being a joke when we left and Thompson asked as I was leaving his interview if I thought what happened to his brother was justice or joke, not justice or a joke. And J O J—that could be what Brookes was tracing on the table with his finger. This all makes sense now.’

‘But what does it mean?’

‘It has to be a website. Why haven’t I come across it yet?’

My fingers fly over keys as I search. ‘If he’s pulling people from victim groups not familiar with the dark web he’s got to make it pretty easy for them to find. Try Ahmia maybe,’ I tell Neutron. ‘I’ll try Dark Fail. We could get lucky.’

‘On it now.’

‘Whenever they start this shit, I feel like an idiot,’ Cass says.

‘Like, I’d have more luck following a conversation on advanced quantum mechanics in Latvian,’ Finn says.

‘Got it. Justice or Joke: Unveiling Truths, Balancing Scales.’

‘Me too.’ I click on it, read out loud: ‘“Welcome to Justice or Joke—a safe space from which to begin your pursuit of justice. Please Enter.”’ I click. ‘“In a world filled with shades of grey, traditional legal proceedings can’t or won’t always help us in our time of need. This website will assist you to navigate a plethora of legal intricacies, societal issues and moral dilemmas. Our members gladly share advice and perspectives on countless cases that prompt discussion and, most importantly, change. Join us as we decipher what’s real, what’s right and what deserves to be rectified. Justice or Joke—your journey starts here.”’

There are sign-in or register options. I hit register and set up an account.

‘That’s some serious non-disclosure agreement,’ Rachael reads over my shoulder.

‘He’s not mucking around,’ I mutter, reading on: ‘“… acknowledges and agrees that by accessing and engaging in the website’s content and activities, I am fully complicit …” Blah, blah. Tick “… any violation of this agreement will result in—” Wow, don’t hold back, Vaughn, “… penalties.” Oh, what the hell? Tick, tick and sign. Okay. Pay—fuck me—exorbitant membership fees and …’ I sit back with a sigh. ‘We’re pending approval.’

‘Why would he do this?’ Cass asks.

‘Because this is Vaughn,’ I say. ‘He would never give up the Spider site without having something else in play. He said he was sick of it. Needed a new challenge and … this works right in with all this other reformed vigilante hero bullshit he’s been spouting, right?’

‘She’s right,’ Olivia says. ‘This site is the perfect platform for manipulating victims to commit crimes.’

‘And the link,’ Finn adds. ‘If the first three vics are on here, we can check for a potential next two against our list of possible Vaughn victims. This could be how we’re meant to figure out victim five.’

‘Okay, we’re in,’ I announce and follow the screen prompts to create a username and password. The site opens up. ‘It’s a big site. Forums, what’s new, articles, featured content, some pinned threads, a search bar, gallery … How about we take a look around?’

‘It’s got a bit of everything,’ Neutron says after we’ve been playing for a few minutes. ‘Looks like you create a post by stating your problem. The name of the perpetrator of that problem isn’t shown on the board, but you can do a search for a person to see if anyone else has had a problem with them and every post about that person will come up in the results. Complaints vary in seriousness and you can up or down vote on whether you think any proceedings against the accused resulted in justice or were a joke. If you think they were a joke, you can offer your thoughts, advice or services.’

‘So we have one guy with a neighbour who kept using his outdoor power point for his reno when he wasn’t home,’ I read off the screen. ‘He asked the neighbour nicely to stop and the neighbour wouldn’t. He posted the problem and an electrician showed him how to change the power output so the next time the neighbour used it, it blew his tools. That’s actually kind of cool.’

‘Yeah, but then we’ve got another one where a woman’s dog was poisoned. Police couldn’t do anything because they couldn’t prove it but the neighbour hated the dog and was smug about it. Another user replied she had a tasteless, odourless recipe that if the woman was prepared to break in to the neighbour’s place and mix into some food, was bound to cause them some hospitalisation-strength stomach issues. Fifty-seven other users have liked her response and asked to be PMed that recipe,’ Neutron says.

‘And here someone’s posted straight up they want someone taken out,’ I say. ‘They’ve had three responses of “PMed you”. There’s even more that want to know how to get away with payback methods of various seriousness themselves.’

‘I’m betting this is a very popular site,’ Rachael says.

‘Reflected in the exorbitant monthly membership fee,’ I reply.

‘I’m guessing no one goes by their real names?’

‘Posters all have aliases.’

‘How has this not been pulled down?’ Finn says.

‘Private site, serious non-disclosure agreements, nothing actually illegal posted publicly. Looks like the PM option’s popular for that,’ I tell him.

‘That’s about to change,’ Cass says.

‘No, it’s not!’ I tell her. ‘We need this site up and running. It’s our only solid lead on our victims.’

‘Brookes is here,’ Neutron says. ‘Complaint against him from an “Angry324”—I’m guessing Rodney—stating that he’d been beating his mum for years and the cops wouldn’t touch him because of a PTSD diagnosis from a career in the force. Lots of comments and—interesting—someone has commented Angry324 might want to look into choke holds if he wants to get away with a permanent solution.’

‘The murder was deliberate!’ Linc says with a surprised glance at me.

‘Little fuck had me fooled. I’ve got Waverley,’ I add. ‘Seems he really was a piece of work. Waverley has multiple complaints against him for his courtroom ethics. One, from a “Thommo”, reads like Thompson’s case. Lots of chatter here, lots of spurring on from all sides.’

‘What about Matthew Richmond?’

‘Ah … Yep. Three stating he was a paedophile, one obviously from his ex from when he found out Richmond was cheating on him with an underage boyfriend.’

‘Do posters have profile pages?’

‘No. And before you ask, no, there’s no common alias that indicates Vaughn has authored posts related to all three of these victims.’

‘He could have created multiple aliases in order to do that,’ I remind Neutron. ‘Just like he should be able to manipulate anything on that site. If he wants a victim to feel justified in seeking revenge, he can knock up the joke upvote count as high as he likes, comment as many times as he likes, pretending to be as many different people as he likes …’

‘Can we access the PMs?’ Rachael asks.

‘I don’t think so, but maybe,’ Neutron says. ‘I’ll have to work on it.’

Rachael nods. ‘First, see if anyone else from our master list is up there. We need to get ahead of victim four.’

‘Finally I feel like we’re getting somewhere.’ I rub my eyes and press my hand to my forehead.

‘Okay?’ Finn asks.

‘Yeah,’ I tell him. Because brain fog, flu, whatever the hell it is, isn’t getting in the way of this.

‘Hey, look at this.’ Linc turns on the TV and there’s a woman on the street with a reporter holding a microphone to her face.

‘It’s not that she doesn’t have any support,’ the middle-aged shopper says. ‘I think the majority of us do support her and the rest of the police. It just that the good people, the majority, are quiet.’

‘Yeah, that’s right!’ the might-be-daughter agrees as the mic swaps to her. ‘It’s the nutcases who make all the noise, that’s all.’

The reporter brings the microphone back to her mouth. ‘How is she supposed to know she has support if all she hears is condemnation?’

‘Maybe that needs to change.’

‘We need a movement,’ the older woman says with a nervous laugh.

‘A movement for Constable Winter?’ the reporter asks. The women smile and nod.

‘Oh, turn it off!’ I groan.

‘Hey, it’s a good thing!’ Linc argues. ‘Some positive media for a change.’

‘It’s my PR team. Everyone who’s not now terrified of Rachael feels sorry for Bailee. None of that’s about me.’

‘Of course it’s about you. How’s the street looking?’ Rachael asks. ‘If it’s all clear, go home and keep playing with this. We’ll continue here in the morning.’

* * *

Finn takes me home but hovers at the door when we arrive, just looking at me, until I ask, ‘What?’

He gives me a half-hearted shrug. ‘Worried about you.’

‘Hmm, well, back at you,’ I tell him, eager to deflect. ‘What the hell was that at the hospital last week? I’ve been wanting to bring it up but I haven’t been game.’

He shrugs. ‘Guess one more moron coming at you was one too many.’

My smile spreads. ‘And you were pissed off at me for getting you dragged out of bed.’

‘Little bit, yeah.’ He reaches out, tipping my chin up to study me closely. ‘Don’t spend all night on that website. Make sure you get some rest.’

‘I’m fine! I’m buzzed. We have a lead, yay!’

‘You sure?’

‘Honestly, much better,’ I lie.

‘Great, probably a good time to ask then. Ava’s play. Are you coming or what?’

I don’t have to fake the twitch of my lips. ‘Another elegantly delivered date proposal?’

He rolls his eyes. ‘Julian didn’t seem to be able to believe we weren’t together because I let you steal my coffee.’

‘There was no “let” about it. I was stealthy. Also, that’s the suckiest excuse for asking a girl out I’ve ever heard.’

He shifts on the spot, eyes narrowing, arms folding. ‘I let you. Also, if it was a real offer, I’d hardly call it out across a police station or make it while I was seeing someone else. Besides, your answer would have been the same either way.’

‘Would it?’ I ask lightly, opening my door.

‘Yeah, because you don’t—Wait. Wouldn’t it?’

‘I guess we’ll never know!’ I counter, and let the door swing shut.

CHAPTER FORTY

Wednesday, October 25

It’s my turn to address the task force tomorrow, but I’m struggling to keep the information straight in my head. I take another look at my notes, stumbling over my words.

‘Vaughn gave us his old website on the thumb drive. The special event was the Easter eggs in his old website code. The Easter eggs gave us the new website, which showed us where to find the victims, all connected to Vaughn: Brookes, the cop who arrested him; Waverley, the prosecutor who pursued the maximum charges against him in court; and Richmond, who provided the tip-off that led to Vaughn’s arrest. Now we know how to find victims four and five.’ My face twists into a grimace. ‘I hope.’

‘No one else from our list is up there?’ Cass asks.

‘Not yet.’

‘Any ideas other than hoping they pop up?’ another detective asks.

‘Um … yes. Based on what Brookes and Thompson said, I’ve been reviewing our list members for any clues to past crimes they might have been involved in, particularly if they’ve gotten away with something that others might be holding against them. I haven’t gotten through many names yet or found anything significant, but now that we know this is our link, we should allocate some serious manpower to it.’

‘Absolutely,’ Rachael agrees.

‘Even if our number four ends up on that list,’ Olivia says, ‘Vaughn won’t put number five on the site until after number four is dead and he’s ready for his final play. It would be too risky.’

‘How long had each name been up before the victim died?’ Rachael asks. ‘Lexi?’

I shake my head. ‘Sorry. Four weeks for Brookes, one week for Waverley and Richmond was six. I guess it all depends on how long it takes Vaughn to convince someone to kill them.’

‘Vaughn said he was going to kill number five himself,’ Olivia says.

‘So for all we know, he could put that last name up and kill them within minutes,’ Rachael says.

‘So we have to go public,’ I say. ‘Tell everyone what we know. It’s the only way to force him to play fair. To make sure that name goes up with time to act.’

‘Then everyone in creation will flood that site,’ Finn says.

‘And they’ll have to sign up to see it. He’ll make more money in those five minutes than he has since the website’s conception,’ Olivia says.

‘And you don’t think he planned it that way? He needed me to find that site from the beginning. I have to do it this way to play the game.’ My phone rings. I glance at it and feel the familiar sick dread. ‘Okay, everyone, quiet,’ I say loudly. ‘His fucked-up majesty would like to speak to me.’

I take a moment, prepare myself, and answer. ‘Yeah?’

‘So you found it then.’

How the fuck does he know that? ‘What do you want?’

‘I’ve been waiting all morning for the announcement. But there hasn’t been one.’

‘We’ll get around to it when we’re ready.’

‘That’s okay. I got sick of waiting. So I did.’

I pull a face and silently mouth some bad words. ‘Let me guess. The people’s hero once again?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Want to tell me about this new venture of yours?’

‘Police were closing in on the Spider’s Web. Keeping a step ahead was becoming tedious. I needed something new. Something more interesting.’

‘And you chose vigilante justice?’

‘I was scrolling through a victims of crime site where I’m mentioned quite a bit. I like to keep tabs on that sort of thing.’

‘Of course you do.’

‘Those sites are so useless. You go on there, have a bit of a whinge to each other. Nothing changes. And I thought, there’s a decent number of contributors on this site that want more than a “there there” and a pat on the back. There’re some truly angry fuckers that want revenge. And I just bet they’re willing to pay for it. Especially with a bit of a nudge in the right direction.’

‘You decided to start up your own website with a manipulable joke upvote to stir people into doling out their own revenge?’

‘Or finding someone to do it for them. Marketing is more along the lines of vigilante superheroes … for a price.’

‘Why not just approach victims straight off an existing website?’

‘Too risky. Who knows who’s monitoring what? Besides, mine took on a life of its own astoundingly quickly. And membership. It’s money for nothing.’

‘You’ve got more money than you’ll ever need. Why do this?’

‘Because I enjoy it. What else would I do? It’s fun. Especially convincing people to kill. They’re hurting, they’re mad, they have all this hate festering away inside them, but they just don’t know if they can do it. I help them realise they can. Killing is easy. Convincing other people to do it … that’s an art.’

‘And when they can’t live with themselves afterwards?’

‘Meh, they were on one of those sites because they were miserable and feeling helpless. At least after they get revenge they can be miserable with some sense of achievement.’

‘The saddest part is I think you actually believe that.’

He chuckles. ‘You know it’s useless trying to hurt my feelings.’

‘What feelings?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I’m aiming for your ego.’

Another chuckle. ‘I do appreciate our chats. But play nice. I deserve a thank you this morning.’

My stomach sinks. ‘What for?’

‘We’re four down. I appreciated your little apology the other day. Thought I’d make a gesture of my own. Play on.’

The call ends and I stare into space as I take that in. A thank you? What could he possibly think he could do for me?

‘He’s already got a new video up,’ Neutron confirms, and puts it on the screen.

I watch the demented fuck introduce everyone to the website he’d wanted to keep secret in order to best protect it from the eyes of those who’d do their best to take it down. I listen to him bullshit on about how he’d set it up in a selfless act of contrition, while he promoted it as a safe and supportive lifeline for those struggling with problems without solutions, large and small. A community space for discussion and resolution when expensive and often unsatisfactory legal responses weren’t the answer.

‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Cass says. ‘What about the general lawbreaking and hitmen for hire?’

‘Not visible.’

‘Lexi?’ Rachael says.

I stop staring sightlessly at the screen and look at Rachael. ‘We need to take another look at Vaughn’s site.’

‘Why?’

‘He said I have four victims.’

‘Yes, I heard that,’ Rachael says, face grim. ‘Do you think you know who number four is?’

‘She’s a callous, self-serving, money-hungry, waste of oxygen who thrives on attention. You should meet up. You’d get on like a house on fire.’

‘Luckily that’s not what you chose to say on camera yesterday. And … in light of that humble apology, I might have to help you out.’

Did he help me out with more than a clue?

‘I think it’s my mother.’

* * *

The alert came through just before lunchtime. A woman had been found in an alleyway behind a closed shopping mall in Gosford, a place well known for drug deals and paid hook-ups. The description fit, so I insisted on attending the scene. And, yeah, the body sitting in stinking wet filth, propped up against an overflowing skip bin, is Carrie Winter.

Finn hadn’t been overly keen on me identifying her but I needed to know. To see. And I’m not surprised the overwhelming feeling I have is … numbness. What’s left of my mother resembles a classic Vaughn makeover. I’ve seen plenty of his victims, so I know what they look like. That expression on her face isn’t unfamiliar either. She’d looked that way in life every time she pumped too much of that shit into her arms: wide-eyed and dead. Except this time, there’d be no waking up in a filthy temper. And her lips are blue. I don’t know why he didn’t cut her face up. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t recognise her. If I was a raving fucking lunatic slasher, her face would be the first thing I’d erase. That fucking dead expression on her nasty fucking face.

I can feel the anger breaking through the numbness now. All the fear and hurt and helplessness from childhood boiling in my gut and bubbling up to my throat. If I’d had a knife in my hand, I think I could have finished the job for him.

‘Lex? Are you okay?’ Finn asks with a hand on my arm.

‘Fan-fucking-tastic,’ I mutter with a flat smile. ‘I think I’ll call him back and thank him.’

‘Hey …’

I take some deep breaths as I walk back to the car, try to process all the emotions swirling around in my head. I’m dizzy with them. I lean on the car door, close my eyes and take a long, deep breath. Hold it. When I hear Finn behind me, I release it. ‘I’m good,’ I tell him in reply to his silent question. ‘Just needed to process.’

‘Good, because you’ve had your thirty seconds. I expect now you’ll be ready to get on with things?’

Ha.

We lock eyes just long enough for my equilibrium to return to near normal. ‘Thanks.’ He knows what I mean.

‘Any time.’

I check a couple of alerts on my phone. ‘There’s a new tweet from Vaughn. It says: Is Lexi taking advantage?’

‘What does that mean?’

‘According to Neutron,’ I say, reading his text, ‘I posted a complaint against my mother on his site. Under the alias “Lexicop”. Another way to make me look as twisted as he is. He thinks he’s so fucking clever. Rachael’s got a counter-tweet going out.’

‘You know she got the go-ahead to double our social media contingent?’

‘Yeah, she told me.’

‘They’re doing a good job countering a lot of the negativity. Anyone who believes you’d use his site and post your own mother on it is irredeemably stupid. We think Vaughn might even have hired a professional agitator to cause a lot of the carry-on outside the station and online. The guy’s gone to ground, but as soon as we find him, we’ll bring him in for questioning. If we can prove it, that’s got to dent Vaughn’s standing.’

‘I doubt it. Have you seen some of his followers? I think they’ve walked off a spaceship. Irredeemably stupid is being kind. But …’

‘But what?’

‘Is my mother really victim four? I’m worried we’re missing something. He’s breaking the pattern.’

* * *

I’m not really surprised when Bailee knocks on my door again. I’d meant to call her but, once again, I’d felt dog tired and spacey and just didn’t get to it.

‘What are you doing here? I thought Mike was being transferred out of ICU today.’

‘He has been. But also, our mother was slaughtered. I thought I’d pop in, have a cup of tea.’

‘I’ve identified the body. You don’t have to. Where are the kids?’

‘Mike’s parents. They haven’t been at school this week with … everything.’ She sits while I boil the kettle. ‘Ding dong, the bitch is dead.’

I look over my shoulder. ‘What did you say?’

Bailee’s eyes dampen as she laughs. ‘I’d just put on The Wizard of Oz to watch with Kai and Lucy when I got the call and I think I was in shock. I must have said something, then I hung up and with near perfect timing, the house fell on the wicked witch and the crazy-looking little munchkins started merrily singing “ding dong, the witch is dead” and they were on the screen and my mother was in my head and witch became bitch and I don’t know whether I started laughing or crying or both, but I couldn’t stop.’ And damn it, now she is crying. ‘And the kids didn’t know what was going on so they crawled onto my lap and I held them so tight and I told them how loved and cherished they are and I promised I’d never let anyone hurt them … ever.’

‘Oh, hell, Bailee, you know I hate this emotional shit.’

‘I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying. No one deserves to die like that though, do they?’

‘I don’t know about that. But if there was ever even one …’

That brings a watery smile to her face. ‘I didn’t even like the woman. I don’t know why I’m so emotional about this.’

‘Honestly, it gave me a bit of a kick in the guts too. But I got over it in like, point one of a second.’

‘What are we going to do with her body?’

‘I don’t think there’s enough left to donate to science. Burn it? I am absolutely not attending a funeral.’

‘Lexi—’

‘Forget it, Bailee. That woman has too much to answer for. I won’t forgive her just because she’s dead.’

‘I was going to say I think you’ve got enough to deal with. I’ll sort a cremation.’

‘You don’t have enough to deal with?’

‘In a strange way, this hasn’t been all bad. I think it might have even saved my marriage. It’s funny how all the petty stuff seems unimportant when the big stuff hits. We’ll see. Mike, ah … wants to see you.’

‘Why? I’ve already heard it.’

‘He doesn’t blame you. You two haven’t always gotten along, but he doesn’t want you carrying that around. You’re dealing with so much. He wants to tell you himself that it’s not on you.’

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Thursday, October 26

‘The Richmond–Patterson deaths weren’t murder–suicide,’ I tell Rachael, staggering a bit as I enter her office. Crap, I hadn’t had that much JD once Bailee left. I hadn’t slept well though. But in this instance, insomnia had been my friend.

‘Good morning, Lexi,’ she says. ‘Do you ever work during office hours or only when you’re meant to be sleeping?’

I put my laptop on her desk and fall into a chair. ‘I have less than a week to get this done. I’m not hassling for overtime.’

‘I’m going to tell you this because I care. You look like you’ve escaped a high-dependency drug ward. Go home. Sleep. I’ll talk to you in about six hours.’

‘I can’t! Am I tired? Yes. Can I sleep? No. Does that make sense? Does anything? Whatever. I’m being useful. When I’m not, you can send me home. Listen to this.’ I start the recording of the call from Patterson to the police. ‘I shot him! I shot him and he’s, he’s bleeding. Oh God, Oh God, I need help!’ I stop it there. ‘It goes on until he shoots himself, but now listen to this.’ I play another clip, of Patterson and Richmond at a birthday party. Patterson is reading out a letter to Richmond from a friend who couldn’t be there.

Again, I stop it after a few seconds. ‘Notice anything?’

‘Who was talking in the second clip?’

‘Patterson. It’s a video.’

‘But wasn’t the first clip from the triple zero call?’

‘Yep.’

Rachael’s brow furrows. ‘Patterson didn’t make that call. Those voices aren’t even close to alike.’

‘So who did?’

‘The person who really killed them, then set it up to look like a murder–suicide.’

‘And, I don’t know how Patterson is linked to Vaughn. He’s not on our list, which is why we didn’t immediately pick it up, but I think Patterson is our fourth victim, not my mother. Seven members had him posted on Vaughn’s site due to a Ponzi scheme he ran about twenty years ago. Dozens of people never got their money back.’

‘Okay, so do we have any leads on who the killer might be?’

‘At one stage, both Richmond and Patterson had a restraining order out on an ex-partner of Patterson’s called Malcolm Dawes for stalking, intimidation, slander and death threats. Dawes also went by McDee to his mates. On the JoJ site, a “McDee” posted one of the complaints against Patterson.’

Rachael’s gaze sharpens. ‘Do we have an address?’

‘Would I come to you with all this and skip the important bit?’ I get up a bit fast and sway, use the desk to steady myself. ‘Let’s go.’

When she doesn’t move or say anything I prompt, ‘Well?’

‘How much are you drinking?’

‘Whoa—What?’

‘Are you taking any drugs to keep you going?’

‘Okay. I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that question.’

When she still doesn’t move, I try not to lose my patience. ‘Rachael! I’m not drinking more than usual—probably less, honestly—and no on the drugs. And yet she’s still sitting there,’ I tell the walls. ‘I’m not a liar!’

‘Neither am I, and I told you I would allow you on this case and wouldn’t pressure you into protection, which is why I’m sitting here trying not to go back on my word. But I am worried enough about you that I’m reconsidering. You’re not well.’

‘I’m glad you’re concerned. Truly. Because you know what would tip me over the edge this morning? A press conference. So in my best interests, can we skip it and go get McDee now?’

The look she gives me is withering yet tolerant.

When she gets out of her chair, I breathe an inner sigh of relief. Yeah, I have a gnawing worry about what’s going on with me. But I absolutely can’t stop now. I don’t have time.

* * *

Because Rachael wanted it this way, I wait by the car while Finn stands with officers at the front door. Dawes is inside, refusing to come out, and teams are positioned at each entrance. Negotiating hasn’t worked so now they’re going in whether he likes it or not.

On Rachael’s go-ahead, a burly officer positions himself in front of Finn, battering ram in hand. The team crowds in behind him. On cue, the ram swings against the door, the wooden frame splinters and the door bursts open.

‘Police! Hands where we can see them!’ Finn demands. The team surges into the room, weapons drawn. We only have to wait a few seconds before Finn lets us know we’re clear to enter.

I follow Rachael into a dimly lit and cluttered living area.

‘They were animals! Sick fucks who preyed on boys. Thought they could get away with it ’cause they had money! You should be thanking me!’

The man I’m guessing is Dawes is short and piggy looking, with wild hair and odd socks. I move past him and rip open the curtains. The room fills with light. On a table, photos and documents are scattered haphazardly. Rachael picks some up.

‘Way to be stalked,’ I mutter, flicking through hundreds of photos. I hover on one of Patterson with his arm around a boy of no more than thirteen or fourteen. ‘Maybe he was doing society a favour.’

‘Yeah, I was!’ Dawes says as he’s being led out. ‘That’s why I left him! Found out he was into that shit. Sick fuck.’

‘Let’s gather all this up,’ Rachael says. ‘We’ll get some evidence bags sorted.’

‘Hey!’ Dawes has planted his feet at the door. ‘You’re that chick!’

I put the photos down and walk across the room to face him, stopping short when Finn puts a hand out to remind me not to get too close. ‘You want to say something?’

‘I reckon you and me are gonna be best friends,’ he tells me with a grin.

‘Then we’ll talk shortly.’

Finn nods at the officers and he’s led out.

I turn to Finn. ‘I hope he’s right.’

‘Let’s get him into interrogation before his attitude changes.’

* * *

‘I’m flattered,’ Dawes says once we’re all assembled. ‘So much attention.’

‘We’re very short on time today, Mr Dawes,’ Rachael says. ‘We’d appreciate it if you didn’t waste any.’

‘Very short, depending on who you are,’ he says, looking at me.

‘What was it you wanted to tell us?’ I ask.

‘I thought what I know might be worth quite a bit. Especially to you.’

‘I won’t know that until you tell me, will I?’

‘And I’m not going to tell you until I know it’s worth my while.’

‘Mr Dawes, there’s no possible way we’re in any position to offer you a deal until we know how valuable your information might be.’

‘How about life-saving?’ Again, he’s looking at me.

‘We’ll be the judge of that. Fire away.’

‘It occurred to me, ’cause Mr Vaughn offered to help me plan this payback of mine—once I saw who else was dying anyway—that I might know why he’s after this particular lot. That I might have an idea why he was getting some payback of his own. I didn’t care. Till now. But I wasn’t supposed to get caught. So now I’m thinking, if I get a deal, I reckon I can help ya out with your number five.’

‘Deals are very difficult to come by on double homicides, Mr Dawes,’ Rachael tells him. ‘So let’s see what you’ve got.’

‘It was when I first confronted Chris that I knew something was going on. He told me it wasn’t an affair. He was setting something up for us. He said he was in a partnership with a cop and a lawyer and a businessman and a banker. It was drugs. Illegal. He’d been protecting me by keeping me out of it. He reckoned he and the other businessman—fucking Richmond—were buying and selling. The cop was keeping the rest of the cops off their backs, the lawyer got a good cut to make sure if there was any trouble they’d get out of it and the banker laundered the money. Chris reckoned it was the perfect setup. Course, he left one guy out of the equation. He’s in one of them pics I dug out.’

It takes a bit of shuffling and searching but then Rachael stops and stares. Picks one up—a surveillance shot. Black and white. Six men sitting around a table. Vaughn at one end, facing the camera. To his left in profile were Brookes and Waverley, to his right Richmond and Patterson.

‘There’s our victims.’

‘That is not a group of men you’d expect to see sitting together.’

‘It’s like one of those riddles, isn’t it?’ Dawes says. ‘A cop, a prosecutor and a serial killer walk into a bar …’ He laughs to himself.

‘But who’s the one with his back to us?’

‘That’s your banker. Your number five.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Lotsa reasons. Main one being, with everyone else other than the man himself in that photo dead, what’d you reckon the chances are?’

‘Name,’ Rachael orders.

Dawes leans forward. ‘Deal,’ he shoots back. ‘And it better be good.’

‘I feel like you have something in mind?’

‘Yeah. I walk or she dies.’

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

‘Two murder charges and he thinks he’s walking?’ Rachael complains.

‘Let’s hope his lawyer can talk some sense into him,’ Finn says.

‘What’s the best we can offer?’ I ask.

‘I’ll have to make a call on that. But right now we’re late for the press conference that I’ve already pushed back once.’ Rachael gets on the phone as we make our way to the press room, where Olivia, Linc and Cass are waiting.

‘Press are already in there,’ Linc tells us. In the time it takes him to open the door, Rachael is off the phone and striding through.

‘Good afternoon,’ she begins, stepping up to the mic. ‘Apologies on the time change today but this morning wasn’t possible. As many of you are aware, a website created by Damon Vaughn, dubbed “Justice or Joke”, has recently surfaced. Vaughn portrays this platform as a space for navigating legal intricacies, societal issues and moral dilemmas. However, I am here to tell you this is not the website’s true aim.

‘Contrary to Vaughn’s claims, our investigation reveals that Justice or Joke is serving as a hub for vigilante activities and encouraging law-breaking behaviour. We will be conducting a thorough inquiry, and any individual found using the site to promote or engage in illegal activities will be identified and prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

‘It is imperative the public recognise Vaughn for what he truly is: a dangerous and manipulative criminal who prioritises only his selfish interests. The website is nothing more than a tool in Vaughn’s twisted game with Constable Winter and a short-term money-making opportunity. All victims to date have been found on this site and we anticipate that the name of the fifth victim will also be revealed here. We also expect Vaughn, if he intends to maintain the façade of fairness, will provide Constable Winter with enough time to intervene before the impending murder.

‘We understand that, by addressing this issue publicly, we run the risk of increasing traffic to the site. There is a membership fee attached to the platform, so Vaughn stands to make a significant profit. Don’t assume for a moment that this potential financial gain has not been calculated from the outset.

‘Our primary goals are the safety of the public and Vaughn’s apprehension. We urge the community to remain vigilant and to please remember to report any information you may have to our hotline.’

Rachael opens up the floor and several questions are launched at me.

‘How do you explain your mother’s name appearing on the site as posted by you?’

Grow a fucking brain in your head, I imagine being able to shoot back. Instead I answer with the expected explanation that Vaughn has simply created a false profile. Then I answer another stupid question, then another, and another. If I feel well enough after this, I think I’ll put my gloves on and take my frustration out on the bag for a while. I haven’t touched it for days.

When we finally wrap it up, I step out of the room with relief but notice Vaughn’s fan club are back out the front. Whatever. I turn away from them to follow Rachael and the others, then hear a quietly spoken, ‘Lexi?’

I spin and spot a man getting up from a chair in the waiting area. He’s around my height, nicely dressed in jeans and a collared shirt, and his neatly groomed salt-and-pepper hair frames an olive-toned face with a strong jawline. He smiles and gentle creases line his kind, deep-set eyes. I have this moment where everything around me just zones out. Because I see more of myself in him than I ever did in my mother. I don’t need him to tell me who he is, but he extends a hand. ‘My name is Alexi Samaras.’

I turn my head but everyone else has moved off. Is Rachael behind this? Surely she’d warn me.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask stupidly.

‘I was hoping we could talk?’

I don’t want to do that out here so I gesture for him to follow me. Without really thinking, I take him into one of the offices upstairs, passing Cass and Olivia, who look at us with curiosity before I close the door.

Feeling uncomfortable, I gesture at a chair and he nods and takes it.

‘You didn’t have to come,’ I blurt out. ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I have no interest in ruining your life. My mother was the one blackmailing you, not me.’

Those kind eyes crease again. ‘I think we’ve got our wires crossed. Carrie wasn’t blackmailing me because I didn’t want to know you, she was blackmailing me because I did.’

‘What?’ Realising I’m still standing at the door, I force my feet across the small space and perch on the edge of a chair.

‘When she told me you existed, I wanted to know all about you, who you were, where you were, how I could find you. She told me fine, but it’d cost me twenty grand. I said I’d pay it. If—’

‘If she could prove I was yours.’

‘Please don’t think badly of me for that.’

‘Quite the opposite. Anyone who could blindly believe a word that came out of that bitch’s mouth needs their head read.’

He chuckled. ‘Learnt my lesson the hard way on that one. But after all that you’ll never know if you don’t pay up rubbish, she jumps on national television and proclaims who you are to the world. I guess the television station must have offered her some money and she didn’t think that part of her plan through. Or gave up on it.’

‘She was never going to get her DNA sample from me.’

‘That explains it then.’ His chest rises and falls as he considers his next words. ‘I have a few things I’d appreciate you allowing me to tell you, then, if you like, I’ll get out of your way.’

I shrug and shift in my chair. ‘Honestly, you seem like a nice guy. I can’t imagine what you were doing with someone like her.’

‘That’s part of what I’d like to explain, though I’m not entirely sure where to start.’ He pauses. ‘I suppose at the beginning. She lived in the same cheap unit block I did when I was going to uni. She was a handful of years older than me. I was pretty naive for eighteen, truth be told, and she was, to my teenage brain, a knockout blonde. I had this fancy car my grandad had bought me, a 1975 Falcon GT hardtop with racing stripes, and she’d always comment on how cool it was. We got talking one day and I thought we hit it off, so when she asked if I’d take her out for a spin, I was stoked. I also had some money my parents had gifted me to see me through uni so I felt flush enough to take her to a really good restaurant while we were out. After that, she seemed to want to spend more and more time together. I thought I was in love with her but, looking back, I can see how stupid I was. She had a way of getting what she wanted, and she knew I was an easy mark. Fancy dinners, gifts, helping with her rent—I just kept handing over money. A lot of money. I never saw it coming.’

‘Saw what coming?’

‘I took her out one night to her favourite nightclub. BJ was there. I’d met him there before. She’d introduced him as her brother. This night she said she needed a grand to help him out with some problems. I said no. I’d never said no to her before, but she seemed to just shrug it off. I woke up in the hospital the next morning. I’d been drugged, bashed, my wallet and car had been stolen and my account was empty. I never saw her, my money or my car again. Until a couple of weeks ago when I got, of all things, a Facebook message saying I had a daughter, and I owed her, so I’d better talk to her, or else.’

‘Nothing surprising about that.’

‘I met with her and she outlined the blackmail amount—or, according to her, the missed child support payments. I requested proof. When I didn’t hear from her I thought perhaps she’d made the whole thing up. Then I saw her on the news, crying about how misunderstood she was. How all she wanted was a relationship with her daughter. And then I saw you, saw your name, and I knew. I didn’t need the test. So I dug into what was going on, into everything I could find on you. I’m sorry, but I needed to know. And what I found out was—I wanted to kill her. When I woke up in that hospital and found out what she’d done to me I was angry, hurt, but I didn’t wish her harm. When I found out what she’d done to my child, I wanted her dead.’

‘Well, if nothing else, it’s nice to know I had one normal parent.’

‘Normal? Yeah, I’m a pretty average kind of guy. Not good, not bad, just … ordinary, really. I have an ordinary job working as an accountant, an ordinary home I mostly own and ordinary hobbies. And after what I now know you went through, I wish I could have been more than that. You deserve someone extraordinary. Like you are. But I would very much like to get the chance to know you. If you’re willing. We all would.’

My stomach is in knots. It’s a lot to take in. A father is one thing. But more family? ‘All?’

‘I’ve told my wife about you. And my—You have a couple of younger brothers. Probably not a lot of incentive.’ He chuckled again. ‘But they’re pretty good guys and they’re curious. They’ve been following what’s been going on. And your grandparents are alive and well and you have aunts and uncles and cousins.’ He stops his increasingly animated spiel and shakes his head. ‘I know this is a lot to take in, and you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, so I don’t want to add any pressure. I just wanted to say hello, to make sure you knew the real story and—’ he slid a card across the desk, ‘—to give you my number so you can call. If you want to. I—we—would really love that.’

I stare at the card stating his name and the local accounting firm he works for, before picking it up. ‘I’ll think about it.’

He nods and gets to his feet, then hesitates. ‘Just before I go, you need to know, if I had known about you, if I had had one inkling of your existence, I would have been there.’

‘The only difference that would have made is that she’d have hit you up for child support.’

Those kind eyes turned hard. ‘I wouldn’t have paid it.’

‘Because you didn’t have anything left?’ I ask.

‘Because I wouldn’t have let you stay there. Not like that. No matter what I had to do, I would have got you out of there. My whole family would have been behind me on that. You would have been loved. And I’m sorry, Lexi. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.’

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, because I can tell he means it.

When I don’t say anything, he nods again and walks out.

I sink back into the chair and release a long breath. Well, fuck.

‘Lex?’

I get up again and smile, though it’s probably a bit unsteady, at Finn. ‘Take me home?’

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

‘Your father?’ Finn says. ‘He just turned up?’

‘Yep. I have a father. And he actually seems pretty damn decent.’

‘That’s great. Are you going to see him again?’

‘I don’t know.’ I unlock my door and step inside.

Cait leaps to her feet and scurries to clean up. ‘You’re early!’

‘Sue me. Hello, everyone. What’s this?’ I hold up an empty Vodka Cruiser bottle and glance at the others scattered around among the Oporto food boxes.

‘Just had some friends round for a late lunch,’ Cait tells me. ‘School couldn’t get a replacement teacher for sport this arvo so we had an early finish.’

‘And tutoring?’

‘Julian’s taking me back for it in an hour. We’ll clean up.’

‘Yeah, you will. Why are you staring at me?’ I ask a blonde with almost as many piercings as Cait.

‘’Cause you’re famous.’

‘How many of these things have we had?’ I shake the bottle I’m still holding.

Cait snatches it. ‘Just one each, I swear. We all passed biology so we were celebrating but we were also—’ she waves a book at me, ‘—studying for economics. We’re almost done. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Only about the alcohol. Toss it.’

‘Who are you?’ a girl I don’t recognise asks Finn.

‘That’s Finn, why?’ Cait says.

‘Thought I recognised—Oh, wait. You were there when Jim Walker went off after Bobby died.’

‘That’s right,’ Finn says. ‘Why?’

‘Just remember thinking you were hot, that’s all, and you are,’ she says with a cheeky smile.

‘Stop trying to embarrass the oldies, Tay,’ Lizzy says. Then to Finn, she says, ‘She pulls this shit all the time, don’t worry about it.’

Tay shrugs and smirks.

‘I think I’d rather be embarrassed than called old,’ Finn complains.

‘Hey, don’t forget to take the Jenny Dixon movie with you when we go,’ Lizzy tells Tay as the girls start packing up.

‘About the girl this legend of Jenny Dixon is based on,’ I say. ‘The one that was actually raped and murdered. She’s buried in that cemetery, right?’

‘Yeah, but there’s a bit of debate over where,’ Lizzy said. ‘Why?’

‘Just curious. Why debate?’

‘There’s no headstone,’ Cait says. ‘Her dad removed it after weirdos began going out there and messing with her grave.’

‘There’s got to be a record somewhere.’

‘Guess so. We only know where everyone reckons she is.’

‘And where’s that?’

‘It’s hard to explain,’ Lizzy says.

‘Yeah. Actually—I’ll pull it up on Google Maps and circle where it probably is,’ Cait says. ‘Why do you want to know? Do you think that’s where Stewie was going when you followed him over there the other night?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You thought he was up to something.’

Ugh, this kid should be a fucking detective. ‘Again, don’t know, just curious.’

Finn finishes stacking bottles into the already full recycler. ‘I’ll take this down, bring it back.’

‘Ah—thanks.’

I pull out my phone and wander into my room to take some less formal clothes from my wardrobe. I haven’t really had a lot of time to ponder what Stewie said but now I’m wondering if he did leave something in the cemetery, and looking at the location Cait circled, that could be where. I hear girls heading out. I close my door, get changed, hear Lizzy thunder back in, having forgotten something or other, some calling back and forth, some giggling, more in and out, Finn returning, talking to Cait, some goodbyes.

I open my door and now it’s only Finn and Cait. ‘Wanna go ghost hunting?’ I ask Finn.

‘Huh?’

‘I want to check out what Stewie was up to. He said he was hiding something. I’m wondering whether he meant metaphorically or physically.’

‘I knew it,’ Cait says.

‘I kind of arranged to take Ava out to dinner with Rachael and Ed.’

‘No problem. Linc will come.’ I send him a text.

‘I could go tomorrow?’

My phone pings. ‘All good. He’s coming later when he finishes up.’

‘Okay. I’ll get going then.’

I walk him to the door. ‘Thanks for destroying the evidence.’

‘You’re doing a great job with her. Small battles.’

‘This whole parenting thing should come with a manual. It’s not like I had anyone to emulate.’ I zone out for a second as I remember my conversation with my father.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asks.

‘I kind of wonder who I would have been. My father said if he’d known about me, he would have gotten me out before all that stuff with Biddle, and his family would have taken me in. He wouldn’t have let me stay there. It just occurred to me that I don’t have the first clue what that me would have looked like.’

‘You still would have been you, you just might have developed some different skill sets and had a lot less crap to deal with. But you are who you are, and—’ he sends me a lopsided smile, ‘—what would you want to change, right?’

A loud, ‘Awww!’ comes from the lounge room. I’m kind of glad of the distraction because I don’t really know what to say.

‘Shut up, Cait!’ I throw over my shoulder instead.

‘Be safe tonight,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll see ya.’

I close the door, then grab my JD and sit on the lounge to flip through the TV channels.

‘He’s so cute.’

‘Shut up, Cait,’ I say again.

‘I’d wait the extra night to wander through a dark graveyard with him.’

‘It would have been morning. I want to go tonight.’

‘Can I come?’

‘Tutoring,’ I remind her.

‘Yeah but.’ She kicks her feet up next to mine on the coffee table and her foot catches the edge of my JD bottle. It tips and spins before spilling onto the floor.

‘Shit—sorry!’ She grabs the bottle, rights it and makes a dash for a cloth.

I decide I should help her and remove the bottle from harm’s way. Eyeing the pitiful amount I now have left, I decide to save the remnants for after the ghost hunt.

‘One Cruiser’s enough to have you knocking shit over, huh?’ I ask, mopping at the spill.

She groans. ‘I knew I wasn’t getting off that easy.’

‘I need to be able to trust you. Everyone’s underage and there are cops literally watching us every second. You’re in my care.’

‘They invited themselves, had the Cruisers with them. How much of a deal am I supposed to make? It was literally one each. Like a cheers, we all passed bio. But I know,’ she tacks on. ‘Sorry.’ Her cloth is soaked so she squeezes it out in the sink, comes back. ‘It’s just strange having to remember I’m not even supposed to so much as drink a lolly water Cruiser after bunking in with Zander, et al, for so long at the clubhouse.’

I laugh. ‘Et al?’

‘It basically means “and everyone else”. You put it in essay references.’

‘Yes, I’m aware. I’m impressed you are. Maybe this education thing really is working.’

‘See? The Cruiser really isn’t a big deal.’

I narrow my eyes on her threateningly. ‘Knocking my JD over is.’

* * *

‘It has to be said, there’s something about a cemetery at night,’ Linc comments as we look around. We’ve pulled into the carpark and I can see pretty well—the half-moon is casting some pretty bright shadows between the headstones. At least we seem to be free of any ghost hunters.

‘Something creepy, you mean?’

‘Atmospheric, maybe?’

I check the map Cait did for me and, thinking I have a good idea of where I’m going, get out of the car.

‘Looks like it’s that way,’ I say, indicating the far end of the cemetery. He goes first and I follow him into the shadows, the gravel crunching beneath our shoes until we hit patchy grass. There’s the occasional hum of passing cars on Wilfred Barrett Drive and I can hear the rhythmic crash of the ocean from beyond the reserve. We use our phones to illuminate the ground as we navigate through gravesites, offering just enough light to avoid tripping over the odd obstacle.

Then a harsh beam of light slices through the darkness, catching us in its glare. Damn.

‘Here come the ghost hunters,’ I complain, but the torch blasts us too long. An unnerving, deliberate act.

‘Hey!’ Linc calls out.

The beam becomes erratic as the figure shuffles around.

‘Something’s not right about him,’ I warn.

‘Stay here.’

‘No—Linc! Leave him. We’ll go, come back later.’

But the figure’s moving towards us in fits and starts, almost like an aggressive animal about to charge. It’s difficult to make out any distinguishing features, but this guy’s not small.

‘Stop there, mate!’ Linc orders.

When he doesn’t, we pull our weapons. I’ve been feeling stupid, carrying the damn thing everywhere on Rachael’s orders, but now I’m thanking her because I can see this guy’s chest heaving, his arms tensing at his sides as he considers his attack. He gets closer and the noise he’s making is primal.

‘Is he naked?’

‘Yep.’

A lunatic giggle erupts from somewhere behind us and I spin while Linc stays focused on the first crazy.

‘Get in the car and call for backup,’ Linc orders.

I get close to the car, but getting in would require taking my eyes off the dark void where that laugh came from and I’m not doing that. I make the call from where I stand.

I hear another high-pitched giggle, then a snort.

‘Police! Get out here where I can see you!’ I call out.

A couple of shirtless young guys do come into view but I doubt they’re following orders, they just happen to be coming this way. One’s arms are above his head, moving up and down in time with a doof-doof sound he’s making, while the giggler is skipping and spinning. He freezes in apparent terror when he spots me before diving behind a headstone. A headfirst dive—no arms. The giggle is replaced with repetitive loud whines of fearful distress. His head reappears, eyes saucers, before disappearing back into his hiding spot.

‘What the fuck?’ I murmur.

Doof-doof guy is now doing cartwheels and chatting to himself.

‘Linc?’ I don’t want to take my eyes off these two but I need to know what naked animal guy is doing.

‘He’s still prowling,’ Linc tells me.

I hear a growl that sends chills up my spine.

‘This could be that flakka crap. They come at you, shoot them. I’m not kidding.’

Short, sharp screams of distress erupt from the hiding one, then he’s up, legging it. He runs straight out onto the road and keeps going. A car slows and stops to avoid hitting him. He runs up onto the bonnet, over the top, down the other side, arms out like it’s some sort of victory lap. He keeps screaming insanely as he continues his charge down the road.

‘Got your attention?’

I leap out of my skin as I realise doof-doof guy has snuck up close to whisper at me. He falls straight down on his arse with a jolt that could break bones and now he’s giggling. Hysterically. I hear sirens. Thank fuck.

I take some cautious steps away and risk a look at naked guy. Linc’s talking to him but I’d guarantee nothing’s getting through. He’s climbed onto a headstone, crouched in a posture that suggests he’s about to take off. He does, onto the next one, then the next. He’s picking up speed. How the fuck is he balancing?

Headlights swing past us as two police cars pull in. At the same moment, naked guy roars like something possessed and hits the ground in a full assault charge. Officers rush past me, tasers come out. He’s hit once, twice. It takes that and four men to get him under control.

‘Got your attention?’

‘Yeah, why?’ I ask my new friend. He’s sitting on the ground, legs wide apart, head hanging sideways.

‘Supposed to get your attention.’

What?

It occurs to me that naked guy came from the direction of Jenny Dixon’s grave. I very carefully survey my surroundings. Lots of cops, all crazies are under control. No sign of any more trouble. Okay.

I check the little circle on the map again. Linc’s busy with another cop but I interrupt them.

‘I want to check out that grave. It’s just there.’ I point in the general direction. It’s a bit further than he probably thinks, but he nods, so I walk over.

When I’m reasonably sure I’m close, I shine the light on the ground, looking for any sign of disturbance. I look up at a shout, but it’s just the cartwheeler. Cops are milling around in the distance. Linc’s still talking. There’s no drama. I can’t see what I’m looking for but I’m looking at the headstones. Shit. Lizzy said there isn’t one.

I look around again, find a space between two moss-covered headstones that seems to be missing a grave. A stone vase, fallen over and stained by time, has recently been disturbed, if the indentation in the hard ground next to it is anything to go by. I kneel and poke around, decide this could be the spot, and the earth shifts more easily than I expect. My fingers brush over the corner of something that reflects the light, just as something else catches my eye.

There’s movement at the back of the cemetery, a shadowy figure. Attempting to slip away or on their way over? Another crazy? Fuck. I duck low, just in case, then almost jump out of my skin when my phone buzzes. I answer it.

‘People have got to stop calling me when I’m doing this shit! You’re going to give me a heart attack.’

‘Why are you whispering?’ Rachael asks.

‘I’m—We’re—Long story. Aren’t you at dinner with Ed, Finn and Ava?’

‘Yes. We’re alerted if any calls came through from or about you. We know you’re at the cemetery. Is everything under control?’

‘Stalker. Yep. A few guys off their tree. Linc thinks flakka. Can’t be sure, but full-on naked craziness. Should we let Craig know?’ I’m keeping my eyes on where I saw that figure. So far, nothing.

‘I’d say right away. I’ll handle it.’

‘Where’s Linc?’ Finn demands. Rachael must have the call on speaker.

‘With the rest of the cops. I’m checking out that grave I came here to find.’ Wait. There. A faint silhouette in white, barely distinguishable. My eyes widen in disbelief. I try to get closer, but the figure seems to drift away. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding,’ I breathe.

‘What?’ says Rachael.

‘Lexi?’ Finn’s voice.

‘She was there. Again. Now she’s not.’

‘Who?’

‘I’m not saying it!’ But I’m freaking just a bit.

‘Tell me you’re not talking about the ghost.’

I hear muted muttering, then Rachael says, ‘She just vanished?’

‘People don’t just vanish in front of your fucking eyes!’ To prove it to myself, I charge towards where the figure was standing.

‘Are you running?’ Finn asks.

‘I need to know where she went! I’m not crazy!’

‘No one said you were. Lexi, I don’t know what’s going on out there, but do not chase that thing!’ Rachael orders.

I stop at the line of bushland that borders the cemetery and drop my phone to my side so I can listen. People, real people, would make noise in there. And she has to have gone in there.

‘Lexi.’

It’s that voice. It’s that damn voice.

‘Lexi.’

I hate that it scares me. Every muscle in my body is tense, alert. I don’t know whether I want to find the source of that voice or run from it.

Then I hear my name again, but this time it’s Linc. He’s running towards me and out of breath when he pulls up beside me.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Shh. She was here. She was calling me.’

‘Who was?’

Rachael and Finn are still talking at me through my phone. I’m not sure what to say to who or what to do.

Maybe I have fucking lost it.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Friday, October 27

‘Would anyone other than Lexi chase a ghost through a graveyard?’ Linc asked.

Finn doubted it. Listening to last night’s events over the phone call with Lexi had left him feeling almost powerless, even though he knew she’d have done exactly the same thing if he’d been there.

‘Did she really just disappear in front of you?’ Cass asked.

‘No, she disappeared in the dark,’ Lexi said.

‘You said she spoke to you?’ Finn asked.

‘I heard my name.’

‘If she’s been hearing things, could the ghost have been a hallucination?’ Linc asked Olivia.

The look Lexi sent Linc spoke of much worse things than a haunting. ‘Dangerous territory, my friend.’

‘I would have said Lexi seems brighter and more herself than she has for several days,’ Olivia said.

‘I felt better than I have in ages last night,’ Lexi said.

‘Had you been drinking?’

Her face screwed up in objection. ‘No! If you must know, Cait knocked the bottle over and the most alcohol I got in my system was what I inhaled while trying to get it out of the carpet!’

‘Maybe it was just someone hanging with the druggies.’

‘No. She’s the same one I saw at Stewie’s crash site.’

‘Can you be absolutely certain? You said you were a long distance away at the crash scene and it was dark last night,’ Rachael pointed out.

‘You’re going to have to trust me. She’s pretty unmistakable.’

‘Nightmare fuel, by the sound of it,’ Cass said.

‘Yeah, well, so’s this,’ Lexi said and put an SD card on the table between them.

‘What is this?’ Rachael asked.

‘What I came in to show you before I was accosted over ghosts. I found this buried in the ground where the remains of this raped and murdered woman who is now supposedly playing ghost are supposed to be buried. It’s where Stewie was lurking the evening I followed him over there.’ Lexi swiped it off the desk and inserted it into a drive attached to her laptop, then slid it back so everyone could see the screen.

‘It’s the video Bobby posted of him and Sophie Bennett,’ Linc said a minute later.

‘The one that caused her suicide, I’m guessing,’ Rachael said, her features pinched as the footage began. ‘I can see why. How humiliating, having this broadcast to the world.’

‘I was told the video share was a couple of minutes long but that’s only part of it.’

Lexi skipped through then paused. ‘After the first part, this happens.’

On screen, two more men came into view.

‘Oh my God!’ Olivia said as the vision became dark and violent. Then another man appeared, leading to yet more vile perversion. One man beat his chest.

‘They’re acting like animals,’ Cass whispered.

Lexi skipped through fast. ‘It’s enough to get the idea,’ she said.

After too long, the men run off laughing, and a battered and broken Sophie half crawls, half drags herself off screen.

‘Turn it off,’ Rachael ordered. ‘Let your local cop know—’

‘We can’t,’ Linc growled. ‘That one with the red hair was his son, Stewie. The blond, as you know, was Bobby. The chest beater, Dino, was the other teen that died in a car crash last week. They’re all dead except the big arsehole with the dark hair, the unspoken ringleader, Eddie Hill.’

‘Then pass this straight over to the sex crimes squad so they can go pick him up!’

‘Maybe Jenny Dixon’s real after all,’ Linc said. ‘For the first time, I hope so.’

Finn glanced up as Craig Slavek appeared in the doorway and motioned for him to come in. Rachael acknowledged him with a smile. He walked in, turned a vacant chair around and sat opposite everyone.

‘So, our whackos,’ he said, linking his fingers behind his head, ‘guaranteed flakka nuts. Full restraints and still the bloods were not easy to take. They’re coming down now, but they’re not happy. Thought you’d be interested to know your latest MVA victim was on it, too.’

‘Stewie was on flakka?’ Finn checked.

When Craig nodded, Lexi growled. ‘I’ll bet you anything you like Jeff knew he was on something,’ she said.

‘That’s a safe bet,’ Craig said, ‘considering I checked those toxicology reports for you and Robert Walker and Dean Armstrong had LSD in their systems at their time of death.’

‘You got the head of the drugs and firearms squad to do your digging for you?’ Rachael asked Lexi in disbelief.

Lexi flashed her a grin. ‘You told me I shouldn’t push in on his case.’ But the grin was short-lived, replaced by a scowl. ‘But that son of a bitch lied! Why would Jeff cover up the drug use?’

‘One way to find out,’ Craig said. He checked his watch. ‘I want to get back to these dickheads before they’re released, see if they’re feeling more up to talking. I’ll pull Jeff in for an informal chat first thing tomorrow. You sitting in?’

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

‘You came!’ Ava says, belting down the stairs as Finn opens his front door. She pulls up short when she sees Cait, looking her over shyly.

‘Hi, kid, this is Cait,’ I say.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Cait says, looking bored.

‘I like your hair,’ Ava says after a few seconds of silence.

‘Thanks.’

I give Cait a bit of a shove to get her through the door.

‘Julian leave already?’ Finn asks, looking beyond me to the driveway.

‘Nah, he’s somewhere. Be in in a minute.’

We file in and, as planned, Cait asks Finn for a drink. I notice Finn’s found the dead plant and put it back on the side table. Now, if Julian can just—yep. He comes through the door and we switch them over. Too easy. Why I’m bothering, I don’t know. He’ll probably kill this one as well.

‘Dad said you might not have been able to come because you have a lot on,’ Ava says, coming towards me with Gizmo. ‘So thanks. I was hoping you’d be able to make it.’

‘As if I’d miss it,’ I scoff. I give the cat the expected pat. It eyes me with suspicion but decides to tolerate it. ‘Why don’t you introduce him to Julian?’

‘Sure!’

Cait’s sipping lemonade. I owe her. She hates the stuff.

‘We’re almost ready to go,’ Finn says. ‘Ava! Have you got your costume?’

‘Hanging on the door!’

‘Make-up?’

‘Table.’ She runs in with a bag stuffed with who knows what and hands it to him. ‘I’ve just got to get my shoes.’

‘Okay.’ Finn gathers everything together. There’s a crash and a cry from Ava.

‘What was that?’ Finn calls out. ‘Ava?’

‘It’s okay! I thought Gizmo knocked your plant off the table.’

Fuck. Really? I duck around Finn and see Julian picking himself up off the floor. ‘Nah all good. It was just Julian falling over.’

‘Damn cat ran under my feet,’ Julian mutters, hopping a little as he joins us.

But now Ava’s drawn attention to it, Finn’s too absorbed in studying the plant to pay much attention. He looks at me in confusion. ‘Did you—’

‘Hate to say this, but you were right. It’s made a remarkable recovery,’ I say over my shoulder as I head for the door. ‘Right. Are we going?’

‘I think I’ve got everything,’ Ava says.

‘No,’ Finn tells her, ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything.’ But as he walks past, he looks down at me with enough heat in his gaze to melt the strength in my legs.

Guess he really likes the plant.

Ava keeps up the chatter on the trip. The poor kid is nervous, talking us through so much of the play I pretty much know it before we arrive.

‘Just need to go to the bathroom!’ she announces as soon as we arrive, and tears off to find it.

‘Nice school,’ Cait says, looking around. ‘The hall looks like a proper theatre. No wonder she looks at me like I’m going to rob her or something.’

‘Could it be the hair, the tatts, the jewellery, the clothes …?’ I tease.

She rolls her eyes.

‘I think she’s a bit in awe of you,’ Finn says. ‘In a good way.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘Good way equals chatter. Bad way equals silence. She’s been dying to meet you since I first mentioned you. And Lexi told her you were cool. There’s no bigger compliment in Ava’s eyes than Lexi’s seal of approval.’

Cait shrugs but I can see she’s happier.

‘Oh, look, it’s little Miss Perfect. Oops! I mean Ava.’

We all look at each other.

Finn frowns. ‘Sounds like Clara and friend.’

‘Let me out!’ Ava says.

‘What’s the rush?’ says the kid I’m guessing is Clara. ‘You’re just gonna stuff the part up anyway. I should have got it!’

‘You gonna stop that?’ Cait asks Finn.

‘Of course,’ Finn says, but my arm shoots out and blocks his trajectory.

‘How about you take care of it?’ I say to Cait.

A smile slides over her face. ‘Sure.’

I creep forward just far enough to watch her swagger around the corner to where two girls are blocking Ava from exiting the toilets.

Finn whispers, ‘Ah, are you sure that’s a—’

‘Yep.’

Cait plants her hands on either side of the toilet entry, effectively pinning the two bullies between the door and Ava. ‘These girls giving you a hard time?’

‘Huh?’

The blonder of the two takes a good look at Cait and backs into Ava. ‘We weren’t doing anything!’

‘That true?’ Cait asks Ava.

Ava’s smile is slow and just a little sly. ‘Well …’

‘We were just talking to her!’ the other one objects.

‘Shame.’ Cait drops her arms to crack her knuckles. ‘Kinda miss juvie.’

All three girls’ eyes widen.

Cait leans down to eye Ava’s tormenters. ‘Move.’

The girls dart apart, then scuttle again when Cait steps in to sling an arm over Ava’s shoulders and guide her away.

‘Make sure you let me know if they ever do piss you off, all right?’

Ava deliberately looks back. ‘Oh, I will.’

I snuffle out a laugh and Finn frowns.

‘That probably wasn’t the best way to handle that.’

‘You’re right. I’m sure if she’d run and dobbed to the teacher, life with her peers would have been so much easier tomorrow.’

‘I wasn’t suggesting that, exactly.’

‘I guess she could have broken their noses.’

‘Definitely not suggesting that!’

‘So what was your brilliant alternative?’

‘I … don’t have one.’

‘Hey,’ Ava says as she and Cait reach us.

‘You okay?’ Finn asks.

‘Yeah!’ Ava says with way too much enthusiasm. She beams up at Cait. ‘Thanks!’

‘School yards are brutal, kid. Never show fear.’

‘Come on,’ I say to Ava, sensing I should escape before I get into trouble for being a bad influence. ‘Let’s get you ready.’

* * *

I do my best to keep my focus on the play. My mind wanders a bit when there’s a change of scene on stage, when Cait starts to fidget or when a less-than-talented performer hits a wrong note. Those moments jar me from the sweet and innocent play and back into my own storyline, the horror plot that’s my life. But I do my best to close the pages on it that little bit longer. To pretend it’s no more real than what’s unfolding in front of me. Just for one night. One night of reprieve from the choose-your-own-adventure from hell where Ava can sing and dance her way across the stage and the most I have to worry about is her missing a step, or a note, and the only question I need to dwell on is …

I glance sideways and, sensing my eyes on him, Finn’s head turns. His gaze warms as it hits mine and my stomach somersaults. What’s the go with that? Is it possible we could be more than friends? Do I want us to be? Or am I just feeling this way because I know, deep down, there’s so little chance I’m going to beat Vaughn? That before I die, I’d like to think that maybe, had this not happened, I might have had a shot at a normal life?

I pull up my thoughts with a jolt. What the hell? I give myself a mental boot up my feel-sorry-for-myself arse. What’s gotten into me, anyway? Of course I’m going to beat Vaughn.

Fuck.

I keep my mind deliberately inactive for the rest of the play and just enjoy it.

‘It was actually not as bad as I thought,’ Cait says as we walk out.

‘Oh, come on, they were good!’

‘For a bunch of preteens. Ava’s got a pretty good voice on her.’

‘So tell her that. Here she comes.’

I can’t help the twitch of my lips as the two girls who were hassling her earlier smile at her when they accidentally run into her, then wave awkwardly and hurry off.

‘Don’t gloat,’ I tell her when I see the smile.

‘Oh, no, I’ll stay out of their way and be nice if I have to talk to them. Hopefully that’ll be enough. Thanks again, Cait.’ Still some shyness there, but progress was progress.

‘Where’s your dad?’

Ava groans. ‘Talking to Ms Dean. She’s Clara’s mum. She’s been after Dad, like, forever!’ She waves a hand at a woman with a lot of rust-coloured hair and tight clothes.

‘So that’s Ms Dean, huh?’ As I watch the woman toss back her hair and laugh at Finn, I find myself agreeing with Viv: the judgemental bitch would fit right into the hyena enclosure.

‘What is she wearing?’ Cait whispers. ‘Fuck. Dysfunction runs in that family.’

‘Language …’ I mutter with a glance at Ava.

Ava giggles. ‘He’ll be ages. I’m hungry. We should go see what’s at the canteen.’

I glance across and note the canteen seems to be serving sausage sandwiches and—For fuck’s sake, Ms Dean, why are you pawing at Finn?

‘Lexi?’ Ava queries.

‘I’d rather have a proper meal, wouldn’t you?’

‘I know I would,’ Cait says.

‘Well, yeah,’ Ava agrees. ‘But good luck getting Dad away.’

‘You really think Lexi needs luck?’ Cait scoffs.

‘Huh?’

I chew the inside of my cheek. Wink at Ava. ‘You’re not the only one who knows how to put on a show, kid.’

I stroll up to Finn, slide a hand up his back and rest it on his shoulder, then snuggle into his side. ‘Hey, you going to introduce us?’

Surprise gives way to amusement as he rests a hand on my hip with casual possessiveness. ‘Lex, this is Kelly Dean, the mum of one of Ava’s classmates.’

‘Friend of Finn’s,’ Kelly amends with a hint of a pout for Finn and a strained smile for me.

‘Nice to meet you,’ I greet her pleasantly. Then to Finn, I say, ‘The girls are hungry. I told them we might stop for dinner somewhere on the way home?’

‘Great idea.’ He drags his gaze from mine to smile politely at Kelly Dean. ‘It was nice to see you, Kelly. Excuse us.’

He keeps me firmly tucked into his side as we walk away. ‘Ava filled you in, didn’t she?’ he murmurs in my ear as we make our way across the quad.

‘Yep,’ I breathe, aware the two girls are grinning at us like lunatics. I glance over my shoulder in time to see Kelly Dean stalk off. ‘You can let go whenever you’re ready.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s all clear.’

‘She might turn around.’

‘Nah, she’s gone back to the zoo.’

He falters. ‘You overheard that conversation? You were supposed to be outside with the dead plant!’

I charge ahead. ‘Right!’ I tell the girls. ‘Let’s get dinner.’

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Saturday, October 28

‘What is that?’ I ask, pointing to the two crates of hair products in the corner of Cait’s bedroom.

Cait looks up sleepily from her pillow and blinks. ‘Huh? Oh, Lizzy’s shit. She had car issues so I’m minding it till Monday.’

‘Okay, just make sure it doesn’t leak onto the carpet. I need you to come straight home after work with Julian today, okay?’

‘But—’

‘No. Look. There’s stuff going on you don’t know about.’

‘What stuff?’

‘I can’t say much. But there’s a drug.’

‘I don’t take drugs!’

‘You don’t need to. It’s called flakka. This shit … the people that are getting violently raped, murdered, having their faces eaten off, they’re not taking it either. You can’t be anywhere near anyone on that fucked-up crap, okay?’

‘I’m not. I don’t even know what that is.’

‘Stewie was on it. I think Eddie might have taken it at least once. A couple of guys from one of the share houses were caught with it in their systems the other night.’

Her face screws up. ‘What? The ones that were at the cemetery? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I’m telling you now. We need to figure out where it’s coming from and until we do, you need to be extra careful.’

‘It’s really that bad?’

‘Worse. I don’t bullshit and I don’t exaggerate, you know that, so when I say it’s as bad as it gets, it is as bad as it gets.’

She looks like she’s debating something with herself, then her cheeks puff as she blows out a breath. ‘If Stewie and Eddie have been on it and it’s going round the houses then … there’s a chance it’s come from the same place the acid came from.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘I think it’s got something to do with a chemist associated with Eddie’s grandmother’s clinic. But I only think that. I’m going on bits and pieces I’ve picked up in conversation. I could be wrong.’

I send her a look I hope conveys how damn proud I am of her. And I decide to trust her with something back. ‘The other reason I don’t want you anywhere near Eddie is because after the part of that video that did the rounds where Bobby and Sophie had consensual sex, Eddie, Dino and Stewie jumped in and the four of them gang raped her. It was vicious and brutal and cruel and I very much doubt it was the first time they’ve done something like that. Eddie’s a very dangerous, very twisted piece of work on a very nasty drug. But I need you to keep that to yourself until I know we’ve picked him up.’

Some of the colour has left her face and her breath trembles out but she nods. ‘Okay. I’ll come straight home.’

‘Thank you.’

Rather than wait for Finn, I get Julian to take me to the station before he takes Cait to work. I want to look into Mrs Hill, see if there’s anything to find before Craig arrives with Jeff. I wonder if the New Day Clinical website mentions any affiliates, maybe this chemist Cait was talking about, or if I’m going to have to go hunting through their business and financial records for the information. Then I find the clinical trials page and I know we’re on to something. I sacrifice a couple of minutes to make myself a coffee, sit back down and get comfortable.

‘You’re in early,’ Rachael says in greeting.

‘I have some information on where those drugs might be coming from. Take a look. Eddie Hill’s grandmother, Heather Hill, owns New Day Clinical. The clinic runs private drug trials. They publish all their recent trials on their website.’ I bring up the page. ‘Two of those recent trials are interesting. One was a phase two clinical study exploring the effectiveness of lysergic acid diethylamide combined with psychotherapy for anxiety treatment.’

‘LSD.’

‘Yeah. They ran the phase one trial too so the LSD has been around for quite some time. And even more recently, they’ve launched a trial into Alpha-PVP as a central nervous system stimulant to treat narcolepsy.’

‘Flakka.’ Rachael skims the page. ‘The drugs are coming from the clinic.’

‘Cait said she thinks Eddie might be getting them from a chemist associated with the clinic, but she wasn’t sure.’

‘Then it looks like you may have found our source. Craig’s downstairs. Fill him in before the interview with Jeff.’

* * *

Detective Craig Slavek’s presence in an interview room is nothing short of imposing and, cop or not, Jeff is starting to perspire by the time we start.

‘Would someone please tell me what this is about?’ he demands.

‘Sergeant Baker,’ Craig begins, ‘would you mind telling me why, when questioned by Constable Winter and Constable Lincoln about the results of drug tests on Robert Walker and Dean Armstrong, you denied they had drugs in their systems?’

‘I wasn’t under any obligation to tell them anything.’

‘So humour me. Why would you hide that information?’

Jeff glances nervously between Craig and me. ‘What was the point of disclosing it? They’re dead. Isn’t that enough?’

‘Did you do any investigation into where those drugs might have come from?’

‘I spoke to the families. They had no idea.’

‘Anything else?’

‘What exactly would you like me to have done? Kids get their hands on that sort of thing all the time.’

‘You’ve got a bunch of teens passing LSD and—heaven help us—flakka around at parties and you just choose to ignore it? Your son had flakka in his system when he crashed his car into that tree, Jeff. And I’m sorry if this is a painful conversation, but right now, there’s more teens out there that are ticking time bombs! As soon as flakka was discovered, this became the New South Wales drug and firearms squad’s number one priority, so we’re not going to be ignoring it. We need to get this off the street before we have a fucking disaster on our hands and a lot more dead bodies.’

‘I, uh, didn’t know about the f lakka,’ Jeff stammers. ‘I thought I could handle the LSD investigation on my own, you know?’

Craig’s expression remains stern. ‘We need the truth, Jeff. What other evidence have you been withholding? What’s really going on here?’

Jeff leans his elbows on the table and puts his head in his hands. ‘I was going to talk about the LSD, wanted to hold a meeting, tell the other kids, parents, do a full investigation. But Heather was having none of it.’

‘Heather?’

‘Hill.’

‘Ah, I see. Continue.’

‘She bailed me up at the club meeting. Said the boys had gotten a bit carried away and stolen some drugs from her clinic. She said it had been handled and that it wouldn’t happen again. That if it got out it would do irreversible damage to her company and risk all the charity work she was doing.

‘I told her if that was the case, her company was liable for two deaths and she’d better lawyer up. She told me I’d better check my son’s phone records. She told me the amount they’d stolen was significant and the four of them had wasted no time selling it on the street, Stewie included. If she was going down, he was going down as a dealer.

‘I told her good luck proving it. She said she had Eddie’s side of the conversations with Stewie in screenshots. She said she also had proof of what the four boys did to Sophie Bennett. I didn’t know what she was talking about. When she explained, I didn’t believe her. She told me Bobby had confessed it to Jim before he died. That’s why Bobby was so convinced Jenny Dixon was after him, because they’d raped Sophie. She told me to shut up about the drugs and let her handle it or my son’s life would be over. So I shut up, and now he’s dead anyway.’

Jeff starts sobbing but I need to ask him one more question.

‘You said Bobby admitted the rape to his father before he died. Do you know of anyone else who might have known about it? Can you think of anyone at all?’

He shakes his head. ‘No. No one. I’m sure they would have come forward with information like that. Even if not to me, then to someone.’

Craig concludes the interview, then gestures for me to step outside.

‘I’m going to start an investigation into Heather Hill and New Day Clinical. If the teens really did steal the drugs, they’ve done it more than once or are part of a much larger network. From our preliminary investigation alone, it looks as though the LSD has been readily available from the same haunts for at least a couple of years, if not longer, and that cannabis, sometimes meth and other drugs, can be picked up from the same dealers. I’m going to let this play out a bit, maybe put someone in undercover. Who is this Cait that gave you the information?’

‘She’s a kid I’m looking after for a bit. She met this group through the footy club. She’s not friendly with Eddie but knows him.’

‘We’ll do some surveillance, get a feel for how big this is while we look thoroughly into Hill and her company; examine licensing, financial records, compliance with regulatory agencies, and the rest. How comfortable is Cait having an ear to the ground?’

‘She’s got her head screwed on right. But I’m not putting her at any risk.’

‘Of course not.’

‘No luck getting anything out of the flakka guys?’

‘Weren’t really interested in talking.’ He grins. ‘One wanted to know if you’d been a sweet little figment of his imagination, though.’

I pull a face. ‘Then maybe I should try talking to him.’

‘You wouldn’t mind?’

‘Where is he?’

‘Bailed. I’ve got an address.’

‘Send it to me. I’ll try and get there this arvo.’

* * *

‘Well, that could have been more productive,’ I say to Finn, stepping inside my apartment and heading straight for the JD. I somehow haven’t managed a drink for two days and I need one. Our end-ofday deviation from home on Craig’s behalf to see flakka fan Tim Lane—or doof-doof guy, as I knew him best—had been less than useless. He’d been clueless on Eddie’s location and no less confused about himself, us and what was going on in his computer game. He hadn’t been able to keep a story straight or his eyes off my breasts for more than five minutes and all in all, had been the perfect example of why we say no to drugs. ‘How were we supposed to believe a word that came out of that guy’s mouth?’

‘True. I mean, you couldn’t possibly be the hottest cop he’s ever seen.’

I turn, incredulous, eyes narrowed in objection. After suffering through Tim, I don’t need this shit. But I spot the fun dancing in Finn’s expression so, what the hell, I decide to have a little of my own. I want to know, don’t I?

Instead of pouring a drink, I return the bottle to the table, release my hair from its confines and let it cascade down, then turn on my steamiest look and saunter towards him. When I’m just too close, I arch an eyebrow and slowly shift my gaze from his lips to his eyes.

‘Take. That. Back.’

I really expect him to come back with something witty for me to counter—I’m in the mood for some light, verbal sparring anyway—but save for a quick jump of a muscle in his jaw, Finn is absolutely still, his body taut, his gaze locked on mine.

Caught off guard, I can’t quite catch my breath under his intense stare.

It goes on too long.

‘Step back, Lex,’ he murmurs.

I take a hesitant step back, offer a coy smile and a casual shrug. ‘Or don’t. My ego can handle it.’

I walk away, quietly exhaling the breath that had jammed in my throat. Fuck. Too much? Have I pissed him off? Guess that answers that question.

This time I pour the shot of JD, attempting to brush off the tension.

I glance back and he’s still watching me intently.

‘Should I apologise or something?’

He comes over, gently takes the glass from my grasp and sets it down. ‘I’m going to get you through this.’

‘I know that.’

‘Whatever support you need, whatever you need me to be, that’s what I’ll do. That’s what I’ll be.’

Fuck, I’m an idiot. ‘I was only—’

‘And while that’s happening, I need you to keep us clear. So I know. So I get it right.’

‘What could you possibly get wrong?’

‘In case I find that out, I’m going to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

I watch him leave.

Keep us clear? I pick up my JD, toss it back. I think that’s clear enough for me. Then again, is it? What did he say? I pour another shot, draining the bottle of the last of the pathetic amount left. I take a sip. My face screws up at an unexpected bitter aftertaste.

Because I feel hollow, I get up and smear some peanut butter on a piece of bread then flop back on the lounge. I want to give the Finn thing some more thought but that damn headachy brain fog is washing over me again in waves. I don’t really want the food. I’m dizzy. Sick. The room won’t keep still. I need to lie down. I stagger to my bed and in seconds, I’m out.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Sunday, October 29

I stare at bottom of my glass from last night. Sediment. It’s definitely sediment. From what?

My mind is racing because the tiredness, all those horrible things I’ve been feeling, the fucking voices—is it possible this sediment is the reason? No drink for a couple of days and I felt better. A drink last night and disaster. I know I’m probably getting ahead of myself, but, fuck, that would make so much sense!

But who? How? No one could have gotten into this apartment to spike my JD. No one.

I make a list: Cait, Finn, Julian, Lizzy, Rachael, Linc, Olivia. That’s the sum total of everyone who’s been in this house. The two cops who’ve generally been downstairs never made it past the door. My mother never got in. What about the guy who repaired the security camera? Could he have had an opportunity? Unless … Could it have been Vaughn? Could he have gotten in that day he left that package? Could it have been one of the cops who turned the place inside out after? Wouldn’t have been the first time he’d made use of a cop. In fact … how well do we really know Julian? Vaughn had somehow gotten hold of the flakka. It wasn’t a stretch to suggest he’d have access to whatever this was as well.

But so would Cait and Lizzy. Cait would never. Would she? No.

Do I have that same faith in Lizzy?

I funnel the dregs from the glass back into the bottle and shove the bottle in a bag before messaging Julian.

‘Morning. What’s in the bag?’ he says when I open my door.

I don’t trust him now. I can’t afford to until I know what’s in my JD and who put it there. ‘Stuff for work.’

‘Where’s Cait?’

‘Still asleep,’ I say. ‘Let’s go.’

I get over to the station and into the taskforce room. It’s packed for a Sunday, reminding me we’re getting to the pointy end of my expiry date. Once I send Julian off in search of coffee, I locate someone capable of getting my package to the lab for analysis, then I sit and start doing some research. I find the names of the company that was called to fix my camera, the cops who cleared my apartment. I pull up Julian’s records and start digging.

I’ve been at it an hour when I hear Linc’s voice: ‘Morning.’

Then I glance up, see his face. He looks terrible.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Footy club held their AGM last night. Jim turned on another show. He didn’t like Merv being voted onto the board of directors.’

‘And?’ I ask, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

‘He was ejected from the meeting. He drove his car piss-blind drunk down the road and parked it out of sight then went back to the carpark to wait for Merv. Laid into him. A couple of the members rushed in and pulled him off but not before he got a few whacks in. Then the bastard took advantage of the fact they let him go to help Merv, who was on the ground and out to it, to take off.’

‘Arsehole! Did you get him?’

‘Still looking for him. Since the wife took off he’s lost his job and been sleeping rough in his car. The car’ll be picked up sooner or later, but I spent most of last night driving around searching. I caught a couple of hours’ sleep at the hospital with Lynn. Thought I’d come in and see if there were any updates on Jim. None yet.’

‘Merv’s in hospital?’

‘Some of those whacks were to the head. He’s conscious but groggy. Bit of a mess.’

‘I’m so sorry, Linc. That bastard prick!’

Linc’s expression darkened. ‘Merv’s done so much good. Never hurt anyone. He doesn’t deserve this.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘There are people on it. We have three days to find victim five and Vaughn seems to have gone AWOL.’

‘Morning,’ Rachael says.

‘Yeah, can we, ah, talk in your office?’

Rachael checks her watch. ‘Let’s be quick.’

I follow her in and get straight to the point. ‘I think someone drugged me.’ I tell her about the small traces of sediment in the JD. ‘How sure are you we can trust Julian?’

She looks surprised. ‘A hundred per cent.’

‘Because we trusted Debbie on the Spider case.’

‘Completely different.’

I run through my other options and Rachael listens before answering.

‘Could Vaughn have spiked it when he was at your apartment? Possibly, but the team went over everything forensically, so I doubt it. And he couldn’t have known who we’d send in, so I don’t think that’s an option. The guy on the camera wouldn’t have been left alone … Besides, you only started acting out of character a few days ago. Tell me more about this friend of Cait’s.’

‘Honestly, I don’t know very much.’

‘Let’s start with what you do and we’ll go from there. We know she has access to drugs, we don’t know how many different types. Where’s the bottle?’

‘Already sent it off with a rush on the results.’

‘Then we wait and see what it comes back with.’

‘I’m more interested in the who. I don’t know whether I’m confused or pissed off. I mean, why?’

She sits back in her chair and sighs. ‘Honestly, I’m relieved. I was very quickly being backed into a corner.’

‘You were going to take me off the case?’

The looks she gives me prompts me to add, ‘And?’

‘I was going to do whatever I had to do. It doesn’t matter. Hopefully we have a reason now and you’ll be fine.’

‘You mean a reason other than some sort of psychotic break?’

‘The drug option is preferable. Let me get everyone underway then I’ll call the lab myself, add a kick to the rush order.’

I kind of want to demand she swear she wasn’t thinking of having me committed but my phone rings and the voice on the line stops me in my tracks. I hang up.

‘Rachael, I have to go.’

‘What?’ I hear, but I’m already running.

‘You can’t go on your—Linc, go with her!’

I duck around him, heading for the lift. He slips in behind me just in time.

* * *

‘Zander!’ I burst into the hospital room, making way too much noise. He’s lying on his back, a hospital gown draped over him, his tattooed arms covered in bandages and a grimace of pain etched across his features. From what I can see of the remnants of his leather jacket hanging loosely on a nearby chair, there’s got to be more bandages under that gown.

His eyes open slowly and are clouded with pain and fatigue. I get a rasped, ‘Hey.’

‘Hey back. What happened?’

‘Fucking coward. Jumped me from behind with a knife to the back. I, ah, got a couple of jabs in. Made some noise, he took off.’

‘Who?’

‘Old mate. Mr Social Fucking Media Personality.’

‘Vaughn?’

‘That’s it. Him.’

‘Vaughn jumped you from behind with a knife, stabbed you, you took him on injured and unarmed, and you’re still alive?’

‘I think it hurts too much to be dead. Fuck, you’re not gonna cry, are ya?’

‘Nope.’ I think I’m going to be sick.

‘Hey,’ he crooned. ‘Hey, I messed him up. Didn’t kill him, sorry. If he hadn’t got that first jab into my kidney I reckon I might’ve, but I got a beauty in to the side of his head. Another decent crack up under the jaw. Heard his teeth clank.’

I suck in a breath and close my eyes against the image of Zander bleeding to death after trying to do me a favour. Guilt crashes into me once more. ‘I’m going to get everyone killed,’ I whisper.

‘Linc, right?’ Zander says. ‘You’d better come in here.’ He must have been hovering at the door because I hear him come in and stand next to me. ‘Yeah, get a bit closer to her,’ Zander says. ‘Great, now give her a decent smack over the head for me, would you?’

I side-eye Linc. ‘The fuck you will.’

‘Then don’t be talking shit,’ Zander tells me. ‘And let me finish. Didn’t tell ya the best bit. I know where the flakka’s coming from.’

‘Hill’s trials?’

‘They’re all selling it—those teens they take in. That’s the deal for getting the roof and the opportunities. Those big private drug trials of Hill’s—the ones that end up making her mega dollars in new treatments? For every one that works there are a hundred that fizzle out. They’re expensive to run and that’s where the illicit drugs come in. She’s got some deal happening with a chemist that operates out of Toukley, but that’s only one of about a dozen of ’em. Looks like a small business, but it’s a lot fucking bigger on paper. Been going on for decades.’

‘How did you find this out?’

‘I was put in touch with someone who regularly buys from a guy in one of those share houses. I went to see him, bought some gear, shared some back with him, asked the right questions, broke the right bones …’ He cough-laughs at the expression I pull. ‘Nah, he sang like a canary when I dangled the meth in front of him. So I spend a few days checking out this chemist, watching the comings and goings, everything’s sweet, then last night I’m home, bam, right in the back outta nowhere. Hear him say I shoulda minded my own business, and bam, bam, bam, he’s going crazy with this fucking knife. I just started punching, yelling. Lights came on next door, one of those punches knocked him off me, he went backwards and took off when the neighbours came in.’

‘And you didn’t tell me till now?’

‘He wasn’t in any state to call anyone last night.’ A nurse, a startlingly pretty redhead, strides in and moves straight to his monitor. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asks him.

‘All good,’ Zander says, his eyes tracking her movements as she checks his vitals.

She gently adjusts a bandage where it’s coming away from his shoulder. He winces and her eyes fly to his face.

‘Sorry.’

‘Ah, it’s fine.’ There’s a moment or two of prolonged eye contact and I roll my lips over my smile.

‘I’ll leave you to your friends,’ she says warmly.

‘She’s sweet, isn’t she?’ he says after his gaze has followed her out.

‘Ah, yeah. Sure.’

‘Likes bikes.’

‘Does she?’

‘Got a thing for my tatts.’

‘I see.’

‘Jealous?’

‘Should I be?’

‘Maybe. I’ll let you know.’

‘I’m gonna tell her you’re a fucking hero.’

‘Couldn’t hurt,’ he says with a mile-wide grin.

‘Craig—Detective Slavek will want to talk to you about what you know. That okay?’

‘Yeah. Regular cops have been in, but whatever.’

‘Zander. Thanks.’

‘Cool. You owe me.’

‘Other way round, babe. Scars are sexy,’ I tell him. And blow him a kiss.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

‘You should probably calm down before you go in there,’ Finn tells me as I unlock my door.

‘Not gonna happen.’

I’ve achieved a lot in the couple of hours since leaving Zander’s hospital room, and none of it has put me in a good mood. I shove through the door, storm into Cait’s room and notice the crates are missing.

‘Where are they?’

Cait takes out her ear buds and frowns, confused. ‘What? What are you doing?’

‘Where are they?’

‘Where are what!’

‘The crates!’

‘I put them in the bathroom because you were worried they’d leak—Lexi, what?’

I find them and snatch one up, unscrew the lid, tip out the contents into the sink.

‘They’re people’s orders! You can’t do that! Lizzy trusted me to—’

A foil package spills out with the purple. I hold it up. Cait’s face is blank.

‘Well?’ I ask.

‘What is that?’ she asks.

I empty another bottle. More foil packages. I tear into one. Ink blot paper strips with indented squares printed with cartoon characters. ‘Acid? You’re a drug dealer now?’

Cait’s eyes double in size and there’s horror etched in her features. I can tell she’s not faking. She had no idea. She’s shaking her head.

‘I didn’t know.’ It’s barely a whisper. She looks up at me, her eyes pleading. ‘I swear.’ Tears well, but are replaced with anger. ‘I didn’t know!’

‘I believe you.’ I wash my hands and dry them.

‘Wait—you do?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I …’ She seems lost for words—like she was all set for a blow-up and now she’s confused. ‘I guess I just thought … I want to fucking hit the bitch! She used me!’

I want to go a bit further than that. I get on the phone. ‘Craig, yep. Stunned and pissed off. Yep, totally on board. Full cooperation, no issue.’

‘I didn’t say that!’ Cait is suddenly panicked. ‘Lexi, she’s my friend! I can’t blab to the cops.’

‘Can and will,’ I say in a way that invites no argument. ‘This is rest-of-your-life stuff, kid. Your future. You’re not fucking it all up over some supplier you’ve known for five minutes that’s turned you into an unwitting drug dealer. A friend doesn’t do that. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t you take any? Because if you have I need to know before they—’

‘What? No! The most I ever did was smoke a bit of weed—which you mostly confiscated! You’ve been treating me like I’m five since I moved in.’

‘And isn’t that lucky now! If you had been running wild and taking that shit it would have looked a lot worse when we were trying to prove you weren’t dealing it!’

She sags. ‘True.’ She’s the closest I’ve ever seen her to a crying jag and I want to rip the heads off the little fuckwits responsible for doing this to her. ‘So what do I do now?’

‘Message her. Tell her you’re sick but that Julian will drop her stuff off for her at the end of the day tomorrow.’

I notice her hand is unsteady on her phone, and that protective angry wave crashes through me again.

‘Leave the rest to me.’

* * *

The bell above the salon door jingles as we enter, greeted by the hum of hairdryers and the strong scent of hair products. Janine, the salon owner, looks up from talking a young hairdresser through a kid’s haircut, a warm smile on her face. ‘Lexi, right? And …’

‘Hi, Janine,’ I say. ‘This is Finn. Cait was looking after Lizzy’s recycled bottles of shampoos and we had a bit of a spillage. Just wondering if you might have any of this purple stuff we can replace it with?’ I ask hopefully.

‘Won’t be a sec.’ Janine says something to the younger girl, puts down her scissors and checks the bottles. ‘Just enough to fill these?’

‘Yes, please.’

She walks into a back room, reappears with a large bottle and a funnel. ‘What do you think of the dye job she did on Cait?’

I consider Cait’s recent makeover. ‘It was a definite improvement. I think she’s considering more colours next time.’

‘Lizzy’s desperate to start cutting. Got some crazy ideas. I’ve got another wig here for her actually.’

‘Wig?’ I ask, curious.

‘Oh, she’s been after me for the leftovers from the TAFE to hack away at. I’m friends with the coordinator. Occasionally some aren’t in too bad a nick once they’ve finished with them. Got her a great one last month. Nice and long. Almost too good for hacking up. I never did ask her what she did with it. This one’s a bit shorter but it’s blonde—better colour for dyeing than the dark brown.’

She finishes topping up the bottles and pops the lids on. ‘This should do you then. I’ll just charge you wholesale like I charge her.’

‘Thanks. Ah, I’d appreciate it if you don’t let on. Cait feels terrible. Bit awkward, you know?’

Janine nods in understanding. ‘Cait’s a great young lady. If she ever wanted to take up hairdressing, I’d give her a start.’

I stop at the register and tap my card. ‘I think she’s still got her heart set on a café, but that’s nice to know, thanks.’

‘Better get back to it,’ Janine says with a smile. I shoot her one back.

‘I can’t see her being involved,’ Finn says. ‘Too genuine.’

‘Yeah, I wanted to tell her what’s going on. How many kids would benefit from a boss like that?’

‘Let’s just hope it doesn’t put her off giving more deserving apprentices a go.’

* * *

‘Did you get the replacement?’ Craig asks over the phone as we drive back to the station.

‘Yeah, no worries. She’s not going to say anything.’

‘Perfect. So, thanks to Zander and some digging of our own, we now strongly suspect Hill and her chemist, Ray Miles, owner of three compounding chemists on the coast and ten in the city, are producing illicit drugs and using those homeless teens they take in to distribute them. Also interesting, that alleged attempted robbery Vaughn got picked up on twenty years back was at that same Toukley pharmacy. What are the chances?’

‘How long has Hill been in business with Miles?’ I ask.

‘A bit longer than that,’ Craig says.

‘So there’s a possible tie between Vaughn and Hill going back twenty years.’

‘Or, as Vaughn was working for them, Hill and the Hamills. Turf war related, perhaps.’

‘We’ll add that to our list of questions. We’re going to be undertaking some heavy surveillance over the next few days then we’ll be organising a warrant for multiple raids on Hill, Miles and their businesses. Assuming it pans out, this is going to be a massive take down. Thanks for your help.’

‘Thanks for yours. If you find Eddie before we do, don’t forget we want him too.’ I end the call and smile in satisfaction.

Finn grins back. ‘He hasn’t got them yet.’

‘He will.’

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

‘Why the interest in the wigs earlier?’ Finn asked Lexi. ‘I saw you switch on.’

‘Lizzy knew Sophie and Cait says she hates those guys. It just occurred to me a long dark wig would be handy to mess up and pop on with some decent make-up if you wanted to scare the shit out of some drugged-up arseholes.’

‘But no one knew what really happened to Sophie. And you would have recognised her. Wouldn’t you?’

‘I’m trying to think if I would. Distance, darkness, wig, make-up, figure-disguising dress.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m just not sure. And I have no idea why she’d do any of this. But Finn, she was in the house the night I kept hearing my name whispered. She’s had access to my JD. She heard me talking about going out to that grave and the flakka nut from the share house kept mentioning something about getting my attention.’

‘You think she was trying to buy time to take a look first? Somehow manipulated those guys?’

‘I don’t know. But who else would it have been?’

‘Motive?’

‘You think Lizzy drugged you?’ Cait asked from her doorway.

‘Cait. Don’t worry about it.’

‘No. You said you think Lizzy’s dressing up as a fucking ghost and put drugs in your JD.’

‘It’s one theory. We bounce loads of them around. That’s basic detective work.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud.’

She stares at the floor and thinks about that. ‘I wonder if I could find out.’

‘No way! I don’t want you anywhere near her.’

‘I told you. If I suddenly disappear, she’ll know something’s up.’

‘It doesn’t matter. There’re things happening I can’t tell you about.’

‘It does matter! You have enough shit going on! Has everyone forgotten that in a few days, you could die!’

No, Finn hadn’t forgotten. How could he? ‘She’s not going to die,’ he told her calmly. ‘Even if he wins this game. I promise.’

‘And we will handle it. Not you.’

‘What if I set up a camera to see what she’s up to?’

‘Not necessary.’

‘Where’s that little minicam you were going to use on the door?’ Cait went hunting for it and pulled a tiny black cube the size of a dice from a cupboard container. ‘I’ll charge it up, pop it on a shelf. There’s so much junk lying around her place she’d never notice it. Then we’d know if she’s up to anything. I’ll tell her Julian needs to pick me up a bit late so I need to hang with her at the salon. We’ll go back to her place while she gets changed and I’ll stash it. Job done.’

‘Forget it, Cait. It’s not happening.’

‘I want to help.’ Her phone pinged and she picked it up. ‘That’s her now. I can do this!’

‘No.’

Cait huffed out a sad laugh and turned the phone around to show us a picture. ‘We just took this a couple of days ago. I thought we were going to be friends for life and now this shit.’

‘Show me that,’ Lexi said.

It was an impromptu selfie. Cait was the photographer and had caught Lizzy mid-make-up session. Lizzy’s hand was up, palm out as though to shield her face. On her wrist was a small infinity symbol.

‘That tattoo. Is it new?’

‘What? No, she’s always had it. It’s just usually covered by her smartwatch. Why?’

* * *

‘Lexi, Finn,’ Rachael said, looking up from whatever she and Olivia happened to be doing. ‘How did you go?’

‘Good,’ he said, following Lexi into the taskforce room. ‘We need to show you something.’

‘That rape video again?’ Olivia said, frowning.

‘We have to concentrate on Vaughn; there’s no time for this other case,’ Rachael said patiently.

‘I think finding out who drugged me and why is important, don’t you?’ Lexi said. She skipped through to the part where Sophie’s crawling away and freezes it. ‘There,’ she said, pointing to the screen. ‘It’s the same tattoo. What do you think that means?’

Finn studied the symbol. ‘It could mean anything. Or nothing.’

‘Same as?’ Rachael asked.

‘Lizzy’s,’ Finn told Rachael and Olivia.

‘We have homeless teens in a charity program dealing drugs, a dead rape victim, someone playing ghost in some sort of revenge stunt, who’s for some reason showing herself to me, and the girl who has befriended Cait—also a drug dealer and one of the few people that could pull off the spiking and playing ghost—happens to have the same tattoo on her wrist as our dead rape victim. I can understand why she might want to pay those boys back but why me? Why has she befriended Cait and decided to mess with me? I need to know what’s going on.’

‘Let me take care of it,’ Olivia offered. ‘I’ll look into her. Find out more about her, what she’s capable of and any history between her and this Sophie Bennett.’

Lexi looked at Olivia in surprise. ‘Thank you.’

‘Meanwhile,’ Rachael said, ‘Dawes is waiting in the interview room. Would you two like to come in? He’s had a day to stew over his life choices and would like to talk to us.’

‘Okay, let’s see what he has to say for himself,’ Finn said.

Seated opposite Dawes, Finn decided the man looked much more cooperative. He had to hope so. Time really was running out.

‘What if I were to tell you a story?’ Dawes began, as though he was settling in to enjoy himself. ‘Once upon a time, there was a nasty little prick by the name of Damon Vaughn. This stuck-up twisted fuck thought he was just it. He’d done some work for a crime family in his teens before being picked up by a larger operation that he worked much more happily for into his twenties.’

‘You’re talking about the Hamills.’

‘No details until I have my deal.’

‘We know that detail, Dawes.’

‘Anyway, there was no love lost between Vaughn and this previous employer; in fact, he downright hated her.’

‘Her?’

Dawes smiled. ‘Her. Now, when Vaughn had just about had enough of being told what to do by, you guessed it, Hamill, he found himself mixed up with a bunch of blokes looking to set up their own operation. The thing is, Vaughn had the inside scoop on this previous business. So, naturally, the plan was to eliminate its owner and, voila, instant drug boss. Phillip Brookes happened to be one of the blokes in this group. He’s the one tasked with getting close to this woman, gathering intel, spying on the business, checking out the books, sussing out the money, right? But here’s the thing—Brookes goes and falls head over heels for her. Next thing you know, they’re having an affair.

‘Of course, Brookes, being all lovey-dovey, decides he doesn’t want her six feet under. He tells Vaughn, but Vaughn couldn’t give less of a shit. He’s all, like, too fucking bad. Seeing his dream of a happy ending slipping away, Brookes comes up with this new plan on the quiet with his girlfriend and the rest of the group to expand her business using their capital to start up a syndicate and they cut Vaughn out.

‘Vaughn, all pissed off at his grand plan unravelling, decides he’s going to go ahead and take care of her on his own and ruin it for everyone. Classic revenge. But Brookes counters by setting up a false tip-off, provided by Matthew, to the cops about the Hamills looking to rob local chemists for raw ingredients. That gets him the surveillance manpower he needs to keep the girlfriend and the business safe and when Vaughn swoops, he’s there to personally put him away and shut him up. Of course, the cops don’t believe Vaughn’s story, but unfortunately for Brookes, the girlfriend does and he misses out on his sweet little deal after all. But that doesn’t stop Vaughn wanting revenge. His team double-crossed him, his big chance was in ruins and he was in prison.’

‘That explains why Brookes is our key,’ Lexi said.

‘Yeah, and I’m going to give you something else for nothing. The girlfriend’s name was Heather Hill.’ He sat back in his chair and smiled. ‘So. You ready to take these cuffs off for that last name you need?’

CHAPTER FIFTY

Monday, October 30

Dawes might have given us Hill’s name, but his lips were sealed about the identity of the fifth man in the photo—Vaughn’s fifth victim. If there’s a way to figure out who this banker is, I don’t know what it is and neither do the rest of the task force. There’s no one on the board that makes sense and no one, yet, on the website. We’ve got nothing and we’ve been on it for hours by the time I’m summoned in to Rachael’s office.

When I knock, she waves me in, holding printouts that she drops on the table in front of her. ‘Ketamine.’

‘You’ve got the results back already?’ I ask.

‘I chased them up this morning. Mixed haphazardly with alcohol, this stuff could have killed you,’ she says. ‘Headaches, nausea, dizziness, confusion, depression, auditory and visual hallucinations and it just gets worse—a lot worse—from there.’

That gives me a moment. ‘I guess it got stronger as I got closer to the bottom so my symptoms got progressively worse. Lucky Cait kicked the bottle over.’

‘We need to talk to this friend of Cait’s.’

‘Lizzy. She’s the most likely candidate. Though I still need a solid motive.’

Rachael glances up and smiles at Olivia standing in the doorway. ‘Perfect timing, come in. Lexi’s JD had been spiked with ketamine.’

Olivia grimaces. ‘Nasty mix.’

‘Yes. How did you go?’

‘Go?’ I ask.

‘I’ve been out to the Karrawirra Juvenile Correctional Centre this morning, speaking to a counsellor there, a Helen Turner,’ Olivia says.

‘The what? Why?’ I ask.

‘Karrawirra Juvenile Correctional Centre is in Maitland. Lizzy spent some time there before moving into the homeless teen project of New Day’s.’

‘For?’

‘Assault. Lizzy arrived there at sixteen grappling with a meth addiction, self-destructive behaviours and strained relations with her mother, after she attacked her mother’s then boyfriend with a poker from the fireplace.’

‘But she’s only seventeen now.’

‘No, she’s eighteen. When she arrived she was defensive, confrontational, prone to extreme mood swings, violence and irrational behaviour. It’s where she met Sophie Bennett, another inmate, and befriended her. They became very close. Helen told me it was due to Sophie’s influence that Lizzy’s behaviour took a transformative turn. Her psychoses—’

‘Just maybe talk like a human?’ I cut in with a glimmer of a smile. ‘For the rest of us.’

‘No omniscient, AI-simulated responses?’ Olivia asks wryly.

My grin gets bigger. ‘You remembered that one.’

‘I’m unlikely to forget it.’ But her mock-indignant stare isn’t unfriendly. ‘Lizzy’s friendship with Sophie played a significant role in Lizzy’s rehabilitation. The two soon became inseparable. Helen said that with Sophie’s help, Lizzy had come a long way in her time there and that therapeutic interventions, counselling and the support system had done wonders. That she’d shown stability and remorse. She believed Lizzy would feel she owed Sophie a debt for her friendship and support, maybe even her life.’

‘But would she kill for her?’

‘She wouldn’t commit to an answer on that.’

‘Okay, what about you? After what you heard, what do you think?’

‘Making hard predictions about someone’s actions is tough. But in my opinion, considering Lizzy’s past trauma and the potential for intense emotions, there’s a possible risk. Her progress might have been real, but revenge motives throw in a wild card. You believe she’s killed someone?’

‘How can a girl dressing up as a ghost possibly ensure these guys would die the way she wanted them to? She could scare them all she wanted, drug them all she wanted, but she couldn’t know Bobby would put that noose around his neck and jump. Or that, even if she managed to cause them, any of those car accidents would be fatal. And yet it’s worked out perfectly. Every time.’ A thought occurs to me and I dive on my laptop, stare at the screen. ‘She posted details of the rape months ago.’

‘On Vaughn’s website?’

‘Yeah. But she hasn’t put the individual names up. Just said attacked by five arseholes.’

‘You’re thinking Vaughn’s connected to this?’ Rachael asks in surprise.

I process the possibility. ‘She befriended Cait, drugged me. She’s been privy to everything we’ve been up to at home. Vaughn knew things about me he couldn’t have known unless someone was telling him. What if he’s been using Lizzy to sabotage me?’

‘In return for helping her pay back those teens for what they did to Sophie,’ Olivia says, nodding slowly.

‘She knew from the start Sophie had been gang raped and didn’t say anything,’ Rachael says. ‘She let everyone believe the story that was put out there.’

‘Maybe she couldn’t say anything for fear of retribution. Posting would have been her way of anonymously, even safely, looking for help,’ Olivia says.

‘Help? Or revenge,’ Rachael says.

‘Whatever you want to call it, she’s posted there were five of them,’ I tell them.

Olivia frowns. ‘But there were only four rapists, weren’t there?’

‘That we saw. So who is five? And when are they planning to finish this? There’s only a couple of days left in the game. Surely Vaughn won’t care about Lizzy’s remaining two arseholes once he wins or loses his main objective,’ I say.

‘I bet Lizzy doesn’t know that. He’s probably drawing it out to string her along. Make sure she’s useful right up until the end of his game,’ Rachael says.

‘Makes sense,’ I say. ‘He’s not interested in giving her what she wants, just using her for what he needs. And once she’s no longer useful, he’ll kill her.’

‘But let’s not completely discount the possibility we could be looking at two more potential murders. If they were to go through with them, what would we be looking at?’ Rachael asks.

‘Another car accident and a staged suicide, I think.’ I check my computer for Jenny Dixon’s origin story. ‘First, hanging, next three car accidents, last one … shot himself to end the torment after running away with the circus. Fuck me. We’re right. Vaughn told me at the beginning he thought my visit to the circus at Goulburn was fitting.’

‘Okay,’ Rachael says. ‘The faster we pick up Lizzy, the better. What about Eddie Hill, why haven’t we been able to locate him yet?’

‘No one seems to know where he is,’ Finn says, walking in. ‘Craig’s running surveillance on the Hills, her residence and his, and the New Day clinic and he hasn’t turned up at any of those locations. Heather Hill is claiming to have no knowledge of where he is.’

‘Workplace?’

‘He works at New Day Clinical.’

‘Doing what exactly?’

My mouth twists. ‘He’s playing groundsman while he studies medicine.’

‘Medicine? That obscene piece of garbage thinks he’s going to become a doctor?’

‘Not once these charges stick, he won’t be,’ Olivia says.

‘If he lives that long,’ I remind them.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

‘Lizzy’s gone,’ Finn told Rachael after Lexi had left to check on Cait. ‘Not at home, not at school, not at work. Janine told us she sometimes hangs around with another apprentice that works Sundays so we looked into it. Unfortunately, she overheard our conversation about the spilt shampoo and passed the information on to Lizzy. We think Lizzy’s probably worked out we know what’s going on and doesn’t want to be located, but we’ll get Julian to turn up with the goods at school this afternoon just in case she’s off doing something else and if so, we’ll pick her up then.’

‘Okay, come with me,’ Rachael said. ‘I need to have one last crack at Dawes. We need that name.’

‘I gather he’s still refusing to cooperate?’

‘Yes. And we’re out of time.’

‘Do we have an offer for him?’

‘Ten years.’ Rachael was tense. ‘It’s a long way from a “walk”, but it’s the best I could negotiate.’

‘That offer is less than half the sentence he should be serving on one of those murders! Who’s stupid enough to turn that down?’

‘Someone who thinks they can hold out until the eleventh hour when we’re at our most desperate. And what if we get a John Smith or something? We’ve still got to find him. There could be thousands of possibles to sift through for the right one while Vaughn’s out there trying to kill him. I knew this was never going to be fair but the closer we get to the end, the crazier it becomes.’

‘Hey. But we need to keep it simple,’ he reminded her. ‘Vaughn has publicly said if we identify and prevent him from killing this victim five in two days, he’ll hand himself in. So that’s what we do. We just keep aiming at that. We’ll get this bastard to talk, get a name, get the guy safely tucked away, then we’ll keep monitoring in case we’re wrong, and if a different name goes up, we’ll get that one too. That’s what we do.’

‘Sorry.’ Her smile was tight. ‘You’re very calm.’

‘I’m practising.’

‘For?’

‘If Vaughn kills this last victim, we’re going to have to get Lexi somewhere safe until he’s caught or dead.’ He sent her a sideways grin. ‘She’s not going to like it.’

Her smile was a bit less strained. ‘We’re going to need to have a discussion with her about that. I’d like a contingency plan sorted so any move we make can be undertaken quickly and covertly. No matter what happens in this game, he doesn’t get Lexi.’

‘He doesn’t get Lexi.’

Rachael visibly pulled herself together. ‘Okay, then. Let’s talk to this moron.’

The moron wasn’t budging.

‘I said I walk.’

‘Even if I wanted to,’ Rachael said tersely, ‘I cannot—’

Lexi burst into the interview room. ‘Sorry, but we don’t need him. He had his chance. I’d rather see him rot, anyway.’

‘What?’ Dawes gasped.

Lexi thrust a photo in his face. ‘This is not yours. You had this taken by a private investigator. His signature stamp is on the back of this photo from the set he sent you.’ She spun the photo to prove it. ‘And we were able to get his name and contact details. I did some checking. Hopkins has recently retired but his business is still in full swing in the capable hands of his son. And guess what? Since the statute of limitations was abolished on a range of serious offences, including sexual offences against children—which is something you had Hopkins look into—he keeps files on those matters in digital format indefinitely. He has assured me there’s likely dozens more photos in this set so the likelihood of us getting a face we can run through our database is next to guaranteed. While you giving us a name would have been an easier route—Hopkins’ son is now in Melbourne and he’d like to see me in person—there’s these things called planes and I can be on one very shortly. So, up to you. You want to make a reasonable deal and save me a trip interstate, or would you prefer to rot in jail on a maximum sentence for two murders? Decide fast. Like you said, I don’t have a lot of time.’

* * *

‘That was brilliant!’ Rachael said. ‘Honestly, when did you have time? I don’t know when you fit everything in.’

‘Me either. You said you did some checking?’ Finn prompted.

‘I said that, yes.’

‘When did you …’

‘Didn’t. Don’t know. No, didn’t call him, have no clue who he is, where he is, if he’s retired, dead, has a son, kept any records or even gives a flying whatever about statutes. I knocked the photos off my desk when I came back in just now, spotted the print on the back of the one I showed him, had an idea and ran with it. It was all complete bullshit.’

Rachael’s jaw dropped. ‘What if he’d called your bluff? You could have compromised—’

‘Then it would have been his lucky day, we wouldn’t have got a hit on our database—or something. And now we have a name. So …’

‘We’ll find this Oliver Carr, pick him up and take him to one of our safe houses. Lexi.’ Rachael’s smile was huge. ‘Well done.’

‘Can I pick him up?’

Rachael hesitated. ‘I don’t want to risk Vaughn being tipped off that we know. I was going to send some local police in plain clothes and have Linc and Cass meet them at HQ for hand over.’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Besides, I’d feel better if you weren’t too far away.’

‘I did promise Zander I’d try and see him after work …’

Rachael thought about that. ‘Okay. Get Julian to take you. But go straight there and back.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

‘That is one big dude,’ Julian says as we pull out of the hospital carpark. A storm’s come over and the rain is belting down again.

‘Yeah. Glad he’s getting out of there tomorrow.’

‘I don’t know. Looks pretty cosy with that nurse.’

‘Considering she was in there taking care of him when she was off shift then, yeah, I think he’s in with a pretty good chance.’

‘If he’s the sort of guy you’re used to hanging around with, no wonder you thought I was a joke.’

‘I never thought you were a joke, Julian. I just didn’t want you dying.’

‘Naw, so you might still sing me a song, Whitney?’

‘I might not knock out your teeth or break your fingers, how’s that?’

He laughs. ‘Not a bad compromise. You really think Vaughn will go through with turning himself in?’

‘Every time I try and envisage that, all I see is me walking up to him with handcuffs, and him pulling a gun on me and shooting me in the head.’

‘I very much doubt Rachael will want you anywhere near him.’

‘You’re probably right.’

Cait is calling, probably bored and hungry and wondering why I’m not home, so I hit the button on the car display.

‘Hey.’

‘I asked you why you were poking around in here!’ a male voice says.

Julian and I exchange glances. I turn up the volume, struggling to hear over the sound the rain is making.

‘I was looking for Lizzy.’

‘Go to Lizzy’s, now!’ I whisper, thankful we made the trip to the hospital. It means we’re less than ten minutes away rather than more than thirty.

Julian puts his foot down.

‘Where have you been anyway, Eddie?’ Cait asks.

My blood freezes at the sound of his name but I silently praise her for letting us know and for keeping him talking.

‘What do you care?’

‘Stories are getting wilder by the minute about the whole Jenny Dixon thing, that’s all.’

‘Oh, yeah? Like what?’

‘You don’t think she’s real, do you? Stewie really lost the plot.’

‘I don’t really care too much about Stewie.’ I almost feel Eddie’s intent as his voice seems to get louder. He’s getting closer to her. I feel every minute tick by like it’s an hour.

‘I thought you were friends.’

‘So did I. Turns out we weren’t.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’re a pretty little piece of meat, Cait.’

‘Cut it out,’ she says calmly. ‘You got any stuff on you or what?’

‘You want in this time?’ he asks with a laugh of disbelief. ‘Sure, I could rustle something up.’

‘Great, when Lizzy gets here—’

‘Why would Lizzy be coming? It’s you and me, babe.’

‘Hey! Get off!’

‘We were all going to have a piece of you, you know that? Bobby picked you. Wanted to sus out how up for it you were. How much of a slut. You weren’t, but that’s even better.’

‘I said get off!’

‘We followed you home. Were gonna rough up that guy that talked to me like shit and take you for a drive, but the boys didn’t live that long.’

My heart starts to beat through my chest. I want to yell into the phone, tell him what I’m going to do to him if he touches her. Maybe I should. Maybe that’ll make things worse. We’re nearly there. I should call for backup but I’m not ending this call or risking using Julian’s phone and tipping Eddie off that we’re listening in case he does something rash.

‘So I guess I’ll just have to do you, a bit longer and a bit harder. For them. Better hurry up, though. Gran’ll be here soon.’

Gran’ll be here? Why would Lizzy be coming—Wait, where were they? Lizzy’s place or Eddie’s?

I must have murmured it because Julian slows at the crossroads.

‘Which one?’ he asks, because the two houses are in different directions and it’s one way or the other.

I jerk off my seatbelt and shove open the door. The rain has lightened to a drizzle. ‘I’ll try Lizzy’s, you try Eddie’s!’ I hiss.

‘Lexi, no!’

‘There’s no time! Go!’ I jump out and slam the door shut. Bolt the few houses to Lizzy’s place. Eddie’s car is in the drive. I rip off my smartwatch and shove it into the cowl of his bonnet, barely hesitating on my sprint to the house.

‘Get away from me!’ Cait shouts.

He has a tight grip on her arm as he drags her across the room.

In three strides, I have a handful of hair and a foot in the side of his knee. He goes down with a scream.

‘Did he hurt you?’ I ask Cait, my hand still clutching his hair.

She shakes her head, gets behind me. ‘Didn’t have a chance. Yet.’

‘Good.’

When Eddie attempts to use his good leg to lever himself up, I strike again, sending him back to the floor.

‘You fucking bitch!’

‘That’s what you like to call women, isn’t it?’ I snarl in his ear. ‘Bitches.’ Shoving him away, I circle him, fighting myself more than him—fighting not to snap his neck. The rage pumping through me is dangerous.

‘’Cause you are! Fucking slag bitch!’ He pushes up, drives himself forward and lunges at Cait. I aim the hardest kick I can manage to his stomach, leaving him gasping noisily.

I squat beside him. ‘Not nice to be the helpless one, is it? Try and touch her again, see what happens.’

He strikes out, a desperate, angry lash of his arm. Misses. I send one back and land it.

‘Pathetic,’ I spit. ‘Looks like, without flakka, you’re just a little coward, aren’t ya? Where’s Lizzy?’

‘How the fuck would I know!’

‘You said she wasn’t coming home. Why?’

‘She’s taken off.’

‘Where?’

‘Dunno!’ He hobbles to his feet, grabs the lamp off the table. ‘You don’t want to take me on, lady.’

‘You’re absolutely right. You’re repellent. But I’m a police officer, so I regrettably have to. Eddie Hill, you have the right to remain silent. Oh, I don’t seem to have my cuffs on me. Are you going to sit here quietly and wait until backup arrives?’

He shoots a quick look out the window towards his car. ‘Are you fucked in the head?’

‘Okay, fine. How about we put it this way. You can deal with me, or a very spirited young lady out for revenge. Make a choice. Fast.’

‘You’re off your fucking dial!’

‘Totally not. Arrested or dead. Your call.’

He eyes me suspiciously. ‘I’ll take my chances with the pretend ghost.’

‘Spirited young lady,’ I clarify. ‘But okay. You were warned. Bye now. Cait?’ I stride with her to the door.

‘Yeah, you’d better run, bitch!’ Eddie calls out.

I hang in the doorway long enough to tell him, ‘I’ll be back to scrape you off the road at some point.’ Then I push Cait out into what’s become a steady downpour.

I get out my phone and call Julian. ‘I’ve got her, she’s fine! Pick us up where you dropped me off.’

‘You’re letting him go?’ Cait says. ‘Why?’

‘This way. Hurry up.’

‘It’s pouring!’

‘Just move!’

Julian’s waiting when we get there. I hear a car gunning it off in the other direction, but also sirens.

‘I’m sorry, but I called everyone,’ Julian tells me.

‘Then call them the fuck back!’

I give him time to do that while we get in, shake ourselves off and do up seatbelts.

‘Go,’ I tell him when he just looks at me.

He sighs and does as he’s told. ‘Can I ask what happened?’

‘Lexi let him go,’ Cait says and I hear her confused frustration. ‘Kicked the shit out him then threatened him with a ghost and walked out.’

‘You didn’t pull your weapon?’ Julian asks.

‘You had a gun?’ Cait asks in disbelief.

‘Forgot,’ I lie. ‘Got a few lucky blows in but he refused to cooperate. Not sure if he had a concealed weapon and I had Cait to consider. Thought it was safer to let him run.’

‘Sensible,’ Julian says.

‘So why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Because you and sensible?’

My phone rings. Finn. ‘Yeah, hi.’

‘Everyone safe?’

‘Yep.’

‘Great. You coming back to the station?’

‘Yep.’

‘Great.’

He keeps saying great, yet great is not how it sounds. ‘Are we … good?’

‘Great,’ he says again.

‘Uh oh, I think I’m in trouble,’ I murmur as I put my phone away.

‘You think you’re in trouble,’ Julian exclaims, wide-eyed and brow raised dramatically. ‘I may never work again! I think those may have been Rachael’s exact words when I had to call her and explain I’d left you in that situation and driven away.’

‘So we’re both as good as dead because …’ I turn to look at Cait while Julian shoots her a glare through the rear-vision mirror.

Cait lifts her hands in defence. ‘I’m sorry, okay!’

‘Not even close to okay! I told you not to go over there. I could not have been any clearer! Why?’

‘Because I wanted to put the camera up for you. Which I did, by the way. Your turn. Why did you let him go?’

‘There’s an investigation in play I can’t tell you about. Besides, I have a theory to prove.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘Then how are you going to prove it?’

‘If he’s not dead in a couple of days, I’m wrong.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

I take off my dripping coat, hang it over a chair and rummage through my bag for a brush. The knots tug painfully as I drag it through my hair. My feet are soaked, so I slip out of my shoes and wonder if there’s a heater or something I can stick them in front of. It’s absolutely ridiculous that I can’t go home until Julian gets back from his meeting with Rachael. Even more ridiculous that I was sent out without the chance to defend him—I didn’t exactly give him a choice. And if anyone should understand that, it should be Rachael. I wonder if Finn could take me. Where is he, anyway? I half-expected he’d have been in there while Rachael had had her very unimpressed say on my rescue mission.

I find Finn in one of the temporary offices, engrossed in something on his laptop, his expression tense and focused. I wander in, get a fleeting glance.

‘You’re wet.’

‘Yeah, well. It’s raining. And I’m not allowed home to change without a minder.’

All I get is a nod, then he’s back to work.

‘And my minder is busy being reprimanded for my behaviour.’

Nothing. Hmm.

Refusing to be ignored, I lean on the desk. ‘So … am I in trouble with you, too?’

Another glance up from the screen, this one accompanied by a frown.

‘You? What for? You do what you do,’ he says. ‘What’s the point of an argument?’

I press a finger to the back of the screen, closing the computer to get his full attention and meet his irritated scowl with a playful smile. ‘You’re absolutely right.’

He sits back and considers me for a moment. ‘You know what you should have done. You know why. But you didn’t.’

‘If it had been Ava, would you have thought twice?’

‘No. But you never think twice.’

I shrug. ‘So I’m not a normal human.’

‘Don’t talk like that!’

My eyes go wide. ‘Don’t yell at me!’ I say in the same tone, then, ‘Look, it wasn’t a big deal.’

‘It’s always a big deal! Especially when we’re all here working frantically to keep you alive.’

‘Okay. You’re still pissed off. Should I come back in a day? A week? A year?’ I tack on when he doesn’t say anything.

‘I’m not pissed off. At least, not at you directly.’ He drags his hands over his face. ‘It’s the situation.’

I laugh dryly. ‘Which one?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Huh?’

He scowls. ‘I hate that …’

‘What?’ I ask gently, because he suddenly looks so damn tortured it throws me.

‘All of it! I—Forget it. I’m not pissed off, I’m not going to lecture you.’

When he moves to reopen his laptop, I put a hand on it because like fuck he’s not pissed off and there’s obviously a hell of a lot more he wants to say. ‘I think I’d rather the lecture than the silent treatment. What is it?’

I don’t think he’s going to tell me, then he blows out a breath. Stares at me. ‘Okay, you want to hear it, fine. I hate that your past makes you feel like you’re not a normal person—like you’re somehow less than and it couldn’t be further from the truth. I hate that we’re always fighting over the honestly damn heroic things you do when you already can’t see how incredible you are. I hate that you’ll run off to save everyone else with no thought for your own safety, yet no matter how much you give, there’s a part of you that holds back. Because of everything you’ve been through you barely trust anyone, rarely form friendships and only let people get so close. And I hate that means you’re missing out on so much while you still turn up to face this, every day. Most of all, I hate that you’re going through all this crap with Vaughn and I can’t somehow just make it go away for you. Even with this damn countdown on your head, you’ve put someone else’s life first again. How can I be angry with you for that? So no, no lecture. Not today. You deserve …’ His eyes soften on mine. ‘You deserve so much better.’

I don’t have a hope of processing that while he’s looking at me that way—if at all. It’s too much. ‘I trust you … mostly,’ I say. An attempt at humour.

‘Thanks,’ he says wryly.

I laugh, hoping it will loosen the knots in my stomach. ‘Come on, you know I do! And I talk to you. I let you in more than anyone.’ I slide onto the edge of his desk and meet his gaze. ‘You’re my friend. My best friend.’ I force in a breath and my voice catches on the question stuck in my suddenly clogged throat. ‘How much … closer do you want to be?’

‘Lex …’ His chair kicks back as he stands, his fingers slide into my hair and his lips capture mine.

My entire system surges to life with a jolt, a sudden burst of chaotic sensation wrapped in a searing warmth. I go with it, and—hell, yes—give back, so caught up in Finn that when I’m eventually released, I’m unsteady, buzzing.

What the absolute fuck? I don’t feel things like that. I don’t work that way.

‘What?’

‘Are you really that surprised?’ he murmurs.

I hear voices approaching and I put some space between us as a trio of detectives walk past in the hallway. More trickle by, the start of the mass exodus for the day. More voices—one’s Julian’s. He’s looking for me. I scramble to find a way to defuse this situation with Finn but my brain is fried. This is ridiculous.

‘I … should … get going.’

‘Yeah.’

But Finn’s eyes have flicked back from the hallway, warm and intense on mine. And why wouldn’t they be? There was no hint of hesitation in how I just kissed him. None.

He clears his throat. ‘I need to run through a few things with Rachael but I could call in when I’m done?’

I manage a couple of quick nods. ‘Okay. Well, I’ll … see you then.’ I know I’m being an idiot. Can’t seem to help it.

I turn on my heel. I need some space, that’s all. Honestly, I think as I power walk away, how many men have I kissed in my life?

‘There you are!’ Julian catches up as I punch the button on the lift.

‘Was I lost?’ I spin and almost plough into Rachael. ‘Sorry.’

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yep.’ The doors open. I step through and press the G button.

‘We have a team moving into position on Eddie.’

‘Sounds good.’

She’s frowning at me. ‘Are you sure you’re—’

‘Positive,’ I tell her as the doors close.

‘You’re not wearing shoes,’ Julian tells me.

Fuck. ‘They’re soaked. I’ll get them tomorrow.’

‘I obviously survived Rachael. Thanks for asking.’

‘I can see that. Congratulations.’

By the time we arrive at my building, I’m past the what the hell just happened part and am all for jumping right back in there even as the but this is Finn part raises its ugly head. He is my best friend. He’s also not likely to kiss me on a whim and forget about it. So what does he expect? Anything? Nothing? Was he just curious? I guess maybe we’ve both been thinking about it. Had it just been an in-case-you-don’t-make-it kind of deal? Despite what everyone keeps telling me about keeping me safe, I’m not an idiot. There’s a very good chance I’m not going to have a long life if we don’t catch Vaughn soon. But even if we do, I’m not relationship material. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to be one of two of anything. I’m not sure I want to be. But damn, I’m not lingering ache for a man material either and I’m struggling to shake this off.

When I reach my apartment and learn Bailee’s inside, I groan. But, fuck, she’s the psychologist. Maybe she can help me psychology my way out of this.

She smiles when she sees me and I point her to a chair. ‘Don’t say anything, just listen,’ I tell her, grateful I can hear the shower going, which means Cait won’t hear this—if I’m quick. I take a breath and blurt it out.

By the time I’m done, a stupid grin has taken up residence on her face and isn’t budging.

I frown. ‘You don’t seem surprised.’

‘I think you’re the only person in existence who could be,’ she tells me.

‘This is serious!’

‘I hope so.’

I growl. ‘Full disclosure: I have wondered lately if maybe he could have feelings for me and maybe without really admitting it to myself, I have played around a bit with trying to find out and yeah by some miracle or terrible judgement on his part, I guess he does and, fuck me, what have I done? What does he expect?’ I clutch at my hair. ‘I need to get out of this. I need to put everything back.’

‘Oh my God. For an intelligent, no-nonsense woman!’

‘What!’ I snap.

She chuckles. ‘Stop panicking. You two were always going to get here because you feel the same way about each other. Simple! Great! Enjoy it!’

I flop into a chair. ‘I don’t do relationships.’

‘You’re already in one! You two had a connection from the start that has developed into a—shut up, it has—close relationship. But you won’t admit you’re in love with him because you can’t deal with big emotional stuff. You avoid it at any cost, block it out, refuse to acknowledge you’re capable of it. It’s a coping mechanism. But you don’t need that anymore. Let it go. You’re the biggest risk taker of them all, aren’t you?’ Her smile turns from teasing to gentle. ‘Lex, take a chance.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

This was bullshit. Absolute fucking bullshit! That bitch was going to pay. He negotiated more bends in the dark road, squinted as a car following got too close and its headlights glared in his rear-vision mirror. He shouldn’t even be on the fucking road. But Lizzy was shit scared the cops were onto her, so she wanted to meet him and hand over the drugs she hadn’t sold in case the cops were waiting to pick her up. He didn’t need this shit tonight. His knee was throbbing from where he’d been kicked. Damn fucking slut bitch! He thought of every one of the nastiest things he’d ever done and compiled them into a playlist for Lexi Winter.

He was interrupted by the faintest sound—or was it more a feeling?—almost like static electricity. Senses heightened by nerves, he listened intently and wished that fucking car behind him would back off. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as a gentle and quiet sigh, like a subtle release of breath, reached his ears. He shot over to the side of the road, threw the car into park and spun around, checking the back seat. Nothing there. He huffed out a laugh. Of course there was no one fucking there!

That annoying fucking car slowed, then passed. Other than the purr of the engine, there was silence. He pressed his palm hard against his forehead. Man, he had to relax. Chill out.

With a few deep breaths, he got back onto the road and put his foot down. He needed to reach Lizzy before she decided he wasn’t coming and took off with the gear. Meet at the cemetery, she’d said. Why the fuck? Getting freaked out by all this shit was what got his mates killed. He took a bend a bit too fast, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He wasn’t dumb enough to crash his car over it.

‘Eddie.’

Again, no more than the suggestion of a breath, but it carried his name.

‘It’s that fucking drug,’ he said out loud just to hear a real voice, a sound other than that breath. ‘Not taking that shit again.’

He was nearing the cemetery. His mind would stop fucking with him once he turned off this fucking road. A car was coming in the opposite direction, high beams blasting him. ‘Dickhead.’ He flashed his lights but the headlights remained too bright as the car seemed to veer onto the wrong side of the road, right towards him. Or was it? It was hard to tell where the road was. All he could see were the lights. They seemed too bright, even for high beam. He tried to evade, not sure where to go.

‘Die!’

No whisper this time. A shout that came from behind him, right in his ear. Startled, he jolted in his seat, fumbling the wheel and thrusting the car into a chaotic swerve. Panic surged as he overcorrected and felt the car veer off the road. There was a jolt as he hit something, then air, a somersault, then a terrible, crushing shudder as the car careened along the roadside, the cacophony of grinding metal against gravel drowning out all other sounds. Finally, with a last spin, the car came to a stop.

Everything was pain. Too much to tolerate. He couldn’t move. But … someone was coming. Hope shot through his dazed consciousness. The one working headlight of his car illuminated the figure as it drifted towards him. The dirty white dress billowed in the breeze and her hair stirred, though not much. It was too oily, too laden with mats and tangles. Her pale skin glowed pearlescent white against black, hollow eyes. But as she got closer, he made out more details. She tucked back the hair. He recognised her. And that recognition sent terror skidding up his spine.

‘What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing?’

Then the slam of a car door. Another figure. The other driver. More hope.

‘Hey, hey, help! She’s mad!’

‘Who?’ the man said, looking around.

‘What? Her! Can’t you see her? She wants to kill me!’

‘Oh, I’m not going to kill you.’ Lizzy stood over him, face expressionless. Then she smiled. ‘He is.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Finn tossed his things into his laptop case and looked up as Rachael stood in the doorway, phone pressed to her ear and an expression on her face that he knew meant he wasn’t getting over to Lexi’s any time soon.

‘We need to move. Eddie Hill is dead,’ she said as she ended the call.

‘What?’

‘Lexi put her smartwatch in the air intake of Eddie’s car when she rescued Cait so we could organise to have him tailed. Only problem was, he didn’t last long enough for us to get it sorted. We had it set up from this end, were organising officers for a stake-out, but he was dead before they could be allocated.’

‘That was smart. Does she have another one?’ he said, striding out with her.

‘No, so her phone will have to do for the time being.’

‘Another car accident?’ he said.

‘You guessed it. I’m getting Van Zettan out to go over this one and telling him we believe it could be a homicide. I want to know once and for all if Vaughn is attending the scenes of these crashes and ensuring they don’t walk away.’

‘Are we taking Lexi?’

She debated that with herself. ‘Not for now.’

‘She’ll be annoyed.’

‘Any idea what’s up with her? She seemed a little … off when I ran into her just before.’

‘She’s fine,’ he said and couldn’t quite help the smile. ‘She just needs to get her head around something.’

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Something like what?’

‘Like that she might be a normal human after all.’

‘And that makes you happy, apparently?’

He knew his grin had spread to almost goofy and there was not a thing he could do about it. ‘You have no idea.’

‘Inspector.’ Neutron caught them just as they were heading out. ‘I’m afraid, um …’ He blew out a breath. ‘Vaughn has just announced he’s making all membership and posts to his site free for the next two days. He’s encouraging everyone to give it a try and asking his supporters to flood the site. If this explodes the way I think it will, we’re not going to have a hope of keeping up.’

‘I think that’s the idea,’ Rachael said. ‘If we’re wrong about Oliver Carr, we’re in trouble.’

* * *

‘Hey.’ It was almost ten when Lexi let him in, and she seemed uncharacteristically edgy.

‘Hey.’

‘So … Eddie’s dead?’ she asked.

‘Yeah. The watch thing was a good idea, we just weren’t fast enough acting on it.’

‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.’

Cait came out of her room, removed an ear bud. ‘Hi, Finn.’

‘Cait.’

She poured hot water into a mug from a recently boiled kettle and smiled at them before disappearing back into her room and kicking the door closed behind her.

‘Do you want a coffee?’ Lexi asked.

‘No, I just had one on the way here, thanks.’

There were a few seconds of silence then she blurted out, ‘Okay, so, um, about before.’

He smiled a bit. He guessed she would have figured something out and rehearsed it. ‘Mmm?’

She sighed, dropped into a chair and raked her fingers through her hair. ‘Okay. So … we’ve been working together for a long time and we’ve been through some pretty crazy shit together. It’s only natural we’d be … curious. And because we’ve been curious for so long, I think that built it all up into way more than what it would have been under normal circumstances. Right?’

He wondered if she realised what she’d just admitted, then decided to go for simple and honest. ‘I’m not curious, Lex. I’m in love with you.’

He saw the shock, then the frustration.

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.’

He nodded at the floor. He’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. ‘That’s okay. You’re not responsible for how I feel. You don’t have to do anything about it.’

‘Oh.’

He moved away from the wall, sat beside her and linked his fingers with hers on the table. ‘It was a really good kiss,’ he said.

She grinned. ‘It was. And if it was just about that …’ Her gaze moved from their linked fingers back to his face, her expression softening. ‘I care about you,’ she admitted.

‘I know.’

‘But as for dating and relationships and the rest of it … If that’s what you want, that’s not me. I’ve never really considered …’

‘I know that too. So how about you stop worrying about what you think I want and figure out what you want? Whatever you decide, it won’t stop us being friends.’

He saw the doubt in her eyes and swallowing his disappointment—he knew she’d need some time to think—flashed her a crooked grin. ‘Stuck around this long, haven’t I?’

Cait re-emerged from her room, raised her brow at them, did a 180-degree spin and went back in.

He squeezed Lexi’s fingers then released them. ‘It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning. Big day tomorrow.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘We’ll catch him. Get a good sleep.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Tuesday, October 31

‘Two and a half thousand posts overnight,’ Rachael tells the room. ‘That’s what we would have been contending with. However, Vaughn’s just posted that his final victim is up. We’ve checked. Oliver Carr is there.’

Cheers erupt around the room.

‘However! We’ve got a problem.’

‘What?’ I ask.

‘We tracked down Carr and he’s denying he’s the man in the photograph. According to him, he knows none of the men in the picture and he was never there.’

‘But Vaughn’s going to kill him. Why would he not want our protection?’

‘He’s a high-profile personality in a highly paid, prestigious position. You heard what Dawes accused them of. I can’t imagine he would willingly admit to being the one sitting in that chair. The speculation alone would be career-ending even without the investigation.’

‘But he must be worried.’

‘Carr’s story is he’s made lots of enemies over the years and with every nutcase in creation posting on that website overnight, he was bound to get a whacko or two wanting to vent. It’s his word against Dawes’s on the photo. We did actually try and track down the photographer to see what he might know but he’s been dead for six years. There’s nothing we can do.’

‘Except make sure he survives tonight.’

‘Which won’t help us if he’s not the man in the photo and Vaughn is after someone else,’ Cass points out.

‘One of two and a half thousand someone elses,’ Neutron adds.

‘Why would Dawes lie?’ Lexi asks.

‘I don’t think he did,’ Rachael says. ‘Carr was accused of financial fraud on the website. Dawes accused him of money laundering. We’ve got to be able to find something we can pin on this guy. We need some evidence. Find me a reason to bring him in and do it fast. We all know what today is. No mistakes.’

She walks over to me and smiles. ‘How are you holding up?’

‘I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.’

‘You could be right.’

‘Where’s Finn?’ I ask. I haven’t seen him this morning and I want to make sure we’re fine. Our conversation had spun around and around in my head last night, driving me nuts. I had to be honest with him, but also, if that’s how he feels, or at least how he thinks he feels, is everything really going to be okay? Are we going to be okay? I haven’t exactly discounted what Bailee said, either.

Maybe …

I just need more time to think about it. It’s a lot. And I can’t deal with it on Vaughn’s D-day. I just can’t. But fuck, I need to see him.

‘There was a possible sighting of Lizzy at one of the share houses last night. Finn and Linc have gone to check it out. If Lizzy is involved with Vaughn, she might know where he is.’

‘Or be planning her fifth victim’s death. We still don’t even know who that could be.’

‘I honestly can’t imagine Vaughn focusing on that today, but dragging her in would be a plus regardless.’

‘Absolutely. The whole fucking lot of them.’

‘Craig’s got his evidence, don’t worry. As soon as that warrant comes through, it will be the whole lot of them. Lexi, I need to speak to you about what has to happen if we don’t have Vaughn in custody tomorrow.’

‘As long as it doesn’t involve me going into hiding indefinitely while other people track him down, I’m on board.’

‘I would hope you’d have more faith in me than indefinitely, but—’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Julian says. ‘Do you have a moment?’ He’s brought Cait over and she looks upset.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, happy to postpone the conversation I’ve been dreading. ‘Cait?’

‘Lizzy’s left me like a hundred messages. She sounds upset. I want to call her.’

I glance at Rachael. ‘Okay, let’s go into my office,’ Rachael suggests.

‘She said she was packing, so I think she’s at home. We could check the camera?’

I turn back and grab my laptop.

‘Go ahead,’ I tell her when we’re ready. It rings once, twice.

‘Cait. You called back.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I know you’re pissed. You found the drugs, right? Sorry. I—I called to say goodbye.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Away. Somewhere. Anywhere.’

I pull up the feed from the camera. Lizzy is at her house, ear to the phone, pacing. I hit record in case we need whatever she’s about to tell us for evidence.

‘Finn and Linc can’t be too far away,’ Rachael says quietly. ‘I’ll update them. Keep her talking.’ She leaves the room.

‘How could you do it?’ Cait asks.

‘I had to or Mrs Hill would have kicked me out.’

‘I don’t mean that! I mean drugging Lexi! And don’t bother lying. We know everything!’

On screen, I see the surprise. The droop of Lizzy’s head. ‘Tell Lexi I’m sorry. The only way he’d help me is if I helped him. I didn’t even know Lexi when I agreed to it.’

‘To what, exactly?’

‘To slow her down a bit, that’s all. Besides, if she figured out his game too fast, he would have had one of those random incidents kill her off along the way. That’s why he kept throwing them in. In case he needed an out.’

‘By “he” you mean Vaughn. The monster that did all those horrible things to all those children. Do you have any real idea who he is? What he’s capable of? Not that bullshit story he spun, but the real Vaughn. Because you don’t have to believe me. I can prove it. I can get Lexi to show you the videos. And she said there’s no way he’ll let you live once he’s gotten what he wants.’

‘I needed help! You think Sophie was the first girl they did that to? It’s a big joke to them!’

‘You’re not a killer.’

‘I didn’t kill anyone! Just scared them. Vaughn did the rest.’

‘How did you even get involved with him?’

‘When Sophie got out of juvie she came to get me. That’s the only reason she got involved with Mrs Hill. She came to get me out and they wouldn’t let me go, so she pinched some of their drugs to hold over them. So they did that! And then Mrs Hill told me what they did to her and what would happen to me if I got any ideas in my head and stepped out of line. And then Vaughn turns up at one of our parties, tells me about this website. I put Sophie’s story up straight away. Got a few replies. Most wanted payment to rough the guys up or knock them off, but Vaughn says he doesn’t. He knows Hill’s behind it and that she’s evil and he’ll help for free. I tell him I don’t want to just kill them. They’re alive then they’re dead—how does that pay them back? I want them to suffer. And the suffering comes from the fear, the knowing something bad is happening and not being able to do anything about it. The payback is in putting them through the fear and helplessness and pain Sophie felt. And Vaughn said isn’t there a local legend you could use? For all you know, they just might kill themselves. See what happens. He just needed something in return from me. Some help keeping eyes and ears on someone while he sorted a problem of his own out. That was the agreement. It didn’t seem like a big deal.’

‘It was a big deal.’

‘Lexi’s there, isn’t she? Can I talk to her?’

‘Lizzy,’ I say.

‘I wanted to say sorry. I did stuff. I pulled the wires out of the back of your camera, added Vaughn’s number to your mobile when you were asleep—I’d paid attention when you entered the pass-code. I gave him bits and pieces of information, scared you with those voices. I felt a bit bad about that. It was just a voice recorder I had on me. We did something similar to Eddie. He thought Jenny Dixon was talking to him from the back seat. Didn’t feel bad about doing it to him, though. But you’re really nice. I wish I hadn’t had to do it.’

‘I get that,’ I tell her nicely. ‘I know how manipulative Vaughn is. It’s okay. You were trying to get justice for Sophie, to save others from those arseholes and give them what you thought they deserved.’

‘They did deserve it!’

‘I’m not saying I don’t agree. Who is it, Lizzy? Who’s number five?’

‘That’s all you want, isn’t it? You want to stop us!’

‘The game ends today. He doesn’t care about your fifth victim, only his. You’re a loose end. You’re in danger.’

‘No I—I need to think.’

‘Lizzy, please. I don’t care if you don’t tell me. But let us keep you safe.’ On screen, I watch her hang up and drop her phone, pace some more, drag her fingers across her eyes and stare at the roof.

Rachael comes quietly back in. ‘Finn’s left Linc at the hospital with Merv’s wife and gone on alone to get Lizzy. Merv just died. Linc is going to wait for the daughter to get there before leaving.’

‘What? I thought he was going to be fine!’

‘The bashing caused a delayed traumatic intra—something. Some sort of bleed on the brain. It was unexpected. He was being discharged and collapsed.’

‘Oh, no. Did they ever catch Walker? I feel terrible not knowing but there’s been so much going on.’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘Inspector,’ a detective interrupts. ‘We have an update on Carr.’

I follow Rachael back out into the taskforce room.

‘What’ve you got for me?’ she asks.

‘Carr is quietly under investigation with the financial crimes squad, which significantly sped things up. They’ve uncovered some interesting patterns in his financial transactions by cross-referencing multiple accounts involving offshore entities.’

‘Offshore entities? You’re talking about money laundering?’

‘Exactly. What caught their eye was a series of unusually large transactions disguised as legitimate business deals. They’ve traced significant amounts of money flowing through a network of shell companies. Classic money-laundering setup.’

‘Good work. Anything else?’

‘Some advanced analytics on his spending habits show he’s been living a lifestyle that far exceeds even his reported income.’

‘Do they have a problem with us bringing him in?’

‘It’s a little more premature than they’d like, but under the circumstances, they’re happy to proceed. Detective Pearce has asked you to give him a quick call on the specifics.’ He holds out a card with a number scrawled on it.

‘Thank you.’ She takes it and disappears.

I meet Julian and Cait back out in the hall. ‘You may as well go home.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Cait says. ‘Lizzy’s done the wrong thing and I don’t even know if I want to talk to her ever again but she might want to talk to you more if I’m here. I don’t know how I feel. What to do.’

Fuck. I step in and give her a quick hug. This is really not my thing but she holds on so I stand there until I hear her take a deep breath and she lets go to swipe at her eyes.

‘I might go wait in the break room.’

‘Okay.’

Julian shakes his head. ‘I can’t get over that Hill bitch. Imagine being evil enough to deliberately give flakka to a gang of pumped-up teens and tell them to do what they did to a teenage girl.’

‘Oh, she’s gonna pay.’ A thought worries my mind and I stare at Julian while I try and pin it down. ‘Five. Was she there?’

‘What are you two up to?’ Rachael asks as I dive on my computer.

‘Rape video,’ I mutter distractedly.

‘Again?’

‘I think we missed something.’ As I drag the slider along the timeline, I continue on past where we’d previously stopped the video, well into the minutes of staring at an empty view of reserve after Sophie has crawled away and something catches my eye. I play on. We all watch as Sophie’s dragged back, limp and lifeless. Eddie and Dino dress her and she’s thrown over Eddie’s shoulder. As they walk out of shot, a grim-faced Heather Hill follows them, instructing: ‘Straight over the cliff. Move it.’ Bobby bends down to pick up a shoe as it drops from Sophie’s foot, looks up, spots the camera. He checks the others have moved on, then takes it down.

Rachael and I look at each other. ‘She didn’t kill herself,’ I say unnecessarily. ‘They got rid of her.’

‘And now Hill’s wanted on suspicion of murder as well,’ Rachael says. ‘I’ll update Craig.’

‘I wonder how Finn’s getting on with Lizzy.’ I flick back to the camera to see Lizzy’s ruined body.

‘Rachael!’

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

‘We need people out there now!’ Rachael orders.

I jump back fifteen minutes, find Lizzy bound and gagged but alive, Vaughn slowly walking around her. ‘What’s wrong?’ He puts an ear to her gagged mouth. ‘Nothing to say? You can’t believe it, can you? You’re just like the rest of those mindless idiots out there who don’t know what a simple lie is.’ He chuckles. ‘Oh, no! Please disregard all that hard evidence the cops are shoving under your noses. I’m not a paedophile! And because I said it, it must be true! Kill kids? Not me. Slaughter adults? Yes, of course, but that doesn’t count because they were bad people. I’m not though, deep down, I’m a damaged but good person, so cutting them to pieces was okay.’ He laughs triumphantly. ‘Fuck me, it was easy.’ He cocks his head. Frowns. ‘Not impressed?’

He slices a line down her cheek as though to test the blade. Lizzy’s eyes bulge, her scream muted by the gag.

‘Oh, you want to know why? Of course. It’s about understanding the weak. To appeal to those most desperate to feel relevant. They love a good underdog tale. It wasn’t anywhere near as difficult as I thought it would be. Can you believe how many of them backed me over Lexi? Me! Who’d use them and end them without a second thought. Ask me why.’

When she makes no sound, he cuts a matching line down her other cheek. Apparently satisfied with another muted scream, he nods. ‘All because I made them feel important. Told them I was doing all this for them. I never even had to explain my actions, no one questioned my methods.’ He sighs. ‘Still, it’s been satisfying watching Lexi crumble. Even basking in the adoration of idiots is tolerable if it means watching her suffer. Just another way to beat her.’

Lizzy begins to thrash desperately, drawing his attention back from his thoughts.

‘Take you, for example.’ He waves the knife in the air as he speaks. ‘I made you feel important. Oh, yes, that’s terrible, you’re right, and so brave, something needs to be done. Did you ever question anything I did? Even when you knew what I was going to do to Lexi? Not once. You felt validated, because I absolved you of any critical thinking. You lapped it up. Because you’re just another idiot.

‘At least Lexi’s not a mindless minion. But look where all her good intentions have gotten her. She’s just about killing herself trying to stop me and the morons out there are doing their best to lynch her for it. She’s really got to learn to stop caring.’

His head jerks up. ‘Sounds like our time together is up.’

I turn away as Vaughn kills Lizzy, reducing her to a mess before disappearing from the screen. Several seconds pass. Finn walks in, no more than the edge of the door and his shadow visible before he drops on the spot, one arm flailing into view of the camera before being dragged away.

I stare in mute disbelief at the screen as Rachael starts shouting again and chaos erupts around me. What has he done to Finn? Someone has pressed a sort of catatonic pause button on me and I’m too scared to press play in case I shatter.

‘Lexi?’ Rachael’s voice. I’m grabbed by the arm and spun around. ‘Lexi!’

I meet Rachael’s desperate expression.

‘What are you thinking?’

I’m not, I want to say. I don’t want to. I don’t want to process anything. Because then I’ll have to process … that. My eyes go back to the screen. Back to Rachael.

I can’t have lost him. He can’t be gone. He can’t be … he can’t be … dead. ‘I need to go out there. I need to—’

‘You’re not going anywhere! That’s probably what he wants!’

‘But—’

‘I’ve sent everyone.’ I hear her voice crack. If she loses it, I’m done.

He can’t be. Maybe he’s still alive. Maybe …

I turn on my heel and run from the room. I fly down the stairs, driven by a need to act, to feel like there’s a chance. There has to be a camera out there. Please don’t let this be the one time there’s no camera.

There’s a news van, a few of those people who just seem to hang around and a journalist doing a story over the road, shooting the station in the background.

As soon as I’m spotted, I’m surrounded. ‘If you kill him, it’s over!’ I hurl at every camera pointed in my direction. ‘All of it, understand? There will be no more game, no more press conferences, no more police reports, no more general updates, not a word from a single police officer and we’ll gag the media. We will take down every piece of news, every report, every photo, every record of Damon Vaughn that’s ever been posted anywhere and make you invisible. Am I clear?’

I drag in a breath as my voice breaks. ‘Everything you want, everything you’ve worked to achieve will be for nothing. You will be erased and forgotten, wiped from every record. I am not lying. You put something up, we’ll pull it down. I will disappear and good luck, because you will not find me. You want this to continue? You want your moment of glory? He’d better not be dead!’

I swipe the angry tears away and charge back inside, past the crowd of cops that has gathered inside the doorway. Rachael looks back at me through damp eyes. She nods once then goes back to organising the search.

‘The officers are there,’ Cass tells me. ‘There’s no Finn. Vaughn’s taken him.’

‘That’s good, right?’ Cait says, coming up to put a hand on my arm. ‘If he’d killed him he would have just left him there. Wouldn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ I croak out. ‘Yeah. Probably. Cait … Lizzy …’

‘I know,’ she says, and when fresh tears well in her eyes, she spins, races back up the stairs.

I walk unsteadily back into the taskforce room while the television broadcasts breaking news: a massive manhunt underway for known fugitive Damon Vaughn after he murdered a teenage girl and took a police officer hostage.

The pings and alerts from Neutron’s direction suggests social media’s going nuts. There’s nearly a hundred people in this building and everything I can think to do is already being done.

‘Is this another baseless accusation?’ I hear from some device in the room. ‘A desperate attempt to catch a killer as Constable Winters runs out of time?’

‘Honestly, can they not even get her name right at this point?’ one of our media guys asks.

‘They think this is some last-minute ploy?’ someone else snarls.

Entertainment. Ratings. Complete fucking bullshit from fuckwits that are so sure they’re so fucking clever when they’re actually so fucking stupid! I want one of them, just one, in front of me right now so I can tear them to pieces.

* * *

The waiting is torture. Time drags. I monitor everything but achieve nothing. Linc comes in. He’s a wreck. Blames himself. He goes out there. He’d rather be looking. So would I. But I’m grounded, not allowed out. Vaughn’s idiots have gathered in impressive numbers for the last few hours. I move to the window and an egg slams against it. Nice shot.

The rain starts back up but it doesn’t seem to deter them. A few people wave their hands and clap above their heads. I don’t know if they’re cheering on me or the egg thrower. There are cameras everywhere now. Police are patrolling.

‘Inspector, it’s getting out of hand downstairs,’ an officer says from somewhere behind me.

Rachael walks up beside me and leans forward on the windowsill. More shouting, cheering and booing from below. One guy has a wobbling banner of a penis wearing a police hat and he raises it at us. Across the street, two women in peace shirts hand out glow sticks. For fuck’s sake.

‘Vaughn’s right,’ I say to no one in particular.

‘About what?’ Rachael asks.

‘They’re fucking morons.’

On the screen, a reporter stands in front of the crowd. I can hear the chanting from here. My name. Another gets going. Vaughn’s name. The opposing sides start to clash. A woman gets punched and hits the ground. Police officers struggle to restore order.

‘Why don’t they all just go home?’ Cait asks.

‘They’re waiting to see who wins,’ Rachael says.

‘They’re down there defending a monster and they don’t have a clue,’ Cait says. ‘Don’t they even care that he just killed Lizzy?’ She breaks off as emotion overwhelms her.

I squeeze her arm. ‘They think we’re making it up,’ I tell her. ‘Do we have Carr yet?’ I ask Rachael. I know it’s stupid to hope Vaughn will just turn himself in and Finn will be fine but I’m clutching at any available straws.

‘He’s deliberately evading police. There’s plenty of people on it.’

The chanting starts up again, followed by more clashes.

‘We need to do something. I’ll talk to them. But they might not like—’

‘And say what? Vaughn’s supporters will annihilate you!’ Rachael snaps, her hand shooting out to grab my arm. ‘This madness has to stop. Neutron!’

‘Yes?’ he says, racing over.

‘That video of Vaughn with Lizzy,’ she says under her breath.

‘Yes?’

‘Can you haze the knifing?’

‘Huh? I mean, yes.’

Though her voice is barely audible, her gaze is hard and cold as stone. ‘Leak it.’

What? I’m not sure who’s more shocked. There’s a long, stunned pause. Rachael’s expression doesn’t falter.

Neutron nods slowly. ‘You never asked, and I absolutely didn’t.’

‘Thank you,’ I whisper.

He nods again and hurries back to his desk.

When Rachael releases her biting grip from my arm, I head for my laptop.

‘What are you doing?’

‘He’s taken everything he said he would—except my life. He should have been more thorough.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

‘You’ve got an idea?’ Rachael asks.

‘We find who Vaughn is after, we find Vaughn,’ I say. ‘We find Vaughn, we find Finn. It’s all I can think of.’

‘We know who Vaughn is after,’ Olivia says, joining us. ‘We’re just waiting on a location.’

‘Vaughn’s here somewhere. Not running after Carr. He came back and so did Lizzy. They were obviously supposed to meet up today all along. So what was she expecting to happen? Not that, obviously. They still had one more victim to take out. I think that was Heather Hill.’

‘But Carr is on the site. It makes sense!’

I turn the laptop around. ‘So is Hill. What if there was never two fifth victims? There was always just one.’

I watch Rachael’s mind turn that over. ‘Vaughn said Brookes was the key. Brookes was all we needed to figure it out. Brookes ruined his plans, arrested him and took away his big chance to be the next Hamill. All to save Hill. Dawes made out Vaughn hates her with a passion. Always did. I don’t know what she was making back then but now she’s got several chemists bringing in stock for her. She’s making a fortune. Imagine what her little empire is worth these days. Imagine what taking it over now would be worth to Vaughn. He still wants that.’

‘Exactly! If he originally went looking for Hill, that could be how he found Lizzy. Why he approached her at that party.’

‘It’s a solid theory, but that’s all it is,’ Olivia says.

‘It was his goal. His ambition. To be a drug kingpin. Has been all along. He told me. That’s not a theory. There it is. Instant empire. This game wasn’t just about regaining his reputation, it was about his goal to be the next Hamill.’

‘Olivia?’ Rachael asks.

‘It’s impossible to call. Everything points to Carr, but Vaughn could have played us and Lexi could be right. That also makes sense.’

‘We’ve got a location on Carr!’ a detective says. ‘He’s on his boat, just north of Nelson Bay. Looks like he’s making his way down the coast.’

‘Down the coast? Towards us?’ Rachael asks.

‘Wild theory I’ll just throw out there,’ I say. ‘What if Carr wasn’t in on the syndicate? He’s evading police. If Vaughn’s after Hill, maybe Carr’s not a target—he’s an escape route.’

‘Cass! Have Linc meet you with local backup,’ Rachael orders. ‘Get a coastguard organised to remove Carr from that boat as quickly as possible—Vaughn’s bound to know about it and if Carr is Vaughn’s target, who knows what he might have tampered with? Have them bring him in once you’re on site to ensure his protection, or his arrest, depending on what we find.’ She pauses. ‘And be careful, both of you.’

Cass nods and is on the phone as she charges from the room.

‘Olivia, you and I are on Hill. Right, everyone!’ Rachael captures the room’s attention before turning her eyes to me. ‘I’m leaving Constable Winter in charge while we retrieve Carr and Hill.’

‘Rachael, I need to be out there!’ I object.

‘In Nelson Bay or Norah Head? We don’t know if he’ll be in either location. Anything could change at any minute and I need that mind of yours here, in the game.’

‘My mind can be in the game out there arresting Hill! It’s her, I know it.’

‘I thought your priority was Finn.’

‘It is!’

She smiles softly. ‘And his and mine have always been you.’

‘But—’

‘Finn and I had discussed this. Vaughn said he’d turn himself in if we saved the last one, not that you would be safe. He might, if his hand is forced—though I doubt it—go through with turning himself in to continue to look like a hero to his followers, to continue to rally support and admiration and fans. But his ego would never, in that situation, tolerate you being alive to see that outcome. Even if you pick the right victim, the right location, the best you’ll be walking into today is a death trap.’

‘I don’t care! If there’s a chan—’

‘I do, very much.’ Rachael’s eyes fill with tears as she uncharacteristically touches my cheek. ‘I won’t lose you both.’

‘Don’t say that!’ I refuse to believe what Rachael is struggling to accept: that Finn’s already dead. But I don’t want to argue with her here, like this, so I swallow my objections and nod. ‘If Vaughn’s there, don’t just kill him. Make it hurt.’ I pull myself together and step outside the taskforce room to send DV a text.

I’m hoping you took Finn for insurance because you’re about to need it. I know Carr is a ruse, and the cops are all over it. I know Heather Hill is the real target and the cops are all over that too. So, you want that alone time, just you and me? You bring Finn alive and I’ll meet you anywhere, on your terms, alone, right now, while everyone is busy chasing targets. You announce it to the fucking world if you like, or to no one. I don’t care. You still want to win, this is your last chance. I don’t hear back by the time we have Carr and Hill, I tell the world I beat you. Again.

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

I watch on screen as Rachael and her team knock on Hill’s door. ‘Heather Hill? Police!’ she announces.

‘Just a minute, please,’ a voice answers through a mic at the doorway.

Rachael waits with Olivia, ID ready. I know two more officers wait behind her, the body cam of one providing the footage. The heavy front door opens and a shot fires. Rachael must have seen it coming because she spins and lifts her arm to shield her face. A second rings out as she and Olivia throw themselves away from the door. A barrage of return fire rings out into the house.

‘Rachael!’ I shout over comms. ‘Are you okay?’

She’s not answering me. And she’s not getting up. Officers are swarming past and over Rachael and into the house. Then Olivia is talking to her.

‘What’s going on?’ I demand, heart in my throat. ‘Olivia!’

‘Hold on, Lexi. Rachael?’

‘Yeah. I’m okay,’ I hear her say.

‘You’re hurt.’

‘Let me at that bitch. You’ll see hurt.’

Despite the concrete lodged in my chest, I manage to huff out a laugh as more body cam footage comes through and I see her helped to her feet.

‘Did we get her?’

‘It wasn’t her. Two males,’ an officer reports. ‘Ambulance is inbound.’

‘Just one? For both of them?’ Rachael asks.

‘For you. You’ve been shot. Twice.’

‘Where is Hill?’ Rachael asks.

‘Not here, inspector.’

‘Damn. Why did they shoot at us?’

‘Large quantity of drugs located inside the garage. POI says they were supposed to be part of a shipment going onto a boat in the morning.’

‘Someone get me Detective Slavek!’

There’s a commotion when Rachael seems to lose the strength in her legs and everyone scrambles to help her to the ground.

‘Don’t fuss,’ she objects. ‘Just need to sit for a sec.’

I can’t get a good look at her. ‘Olivia, how badly is she hurt?’

‘Shot to the forearm’s a bit of a mess, other one has just grazed the top of her shoulder.’

‘I’ll live!’ Rachael answers. ‘Here’s the ambos. They’ll patch me up, and I’ll talk to Craig and figure out where Hill is. We’ll be in touch shortly. Lexi, find Vaughn!’

The comms cut out.

I take some deep breaths because my stomach is churning like a damn washing machine. Half the room is shooting me covert glances. The news is a constant reminder that time is ticking and, while I’m standing here doing nothing, Vaughn is busily getting on with his grand plan. He might have Hill. Fuck, she might be dead.

I decide that’s less likely when I get the text.

Maybe he’s alive. Maybe he’s dead. Soldiers Beach Surf Club. Now.

I’m staring at the message from Vaughn, wondering how I’m going to escape unnoticed, when Julian comes up behind me.

‘Everything okay?’

I jump, close the message. My phone immediately starts ringing. ‘Yep.’

‘Gonna answer that?’

‘Yep. Just answering texts and phone calls and thinking …’

He smiles sympathetically.

‘Hi, Olivia, two secs,’ I say. Then to Julian: ‘Hey, can you possibly take Cait back to the apartment? I know she wanted to hang around but we’re going to be hours. She needs to get out of this environment. I’ll call you back here if we need to move.’

He rubs a hand along the back of his neck and looks back to the bored teen slumped in the office chair. ‘Yeah, sure.’

‘And tell her to order in some food. Whatever she wants.’

‘No problem.’

‘Thanks.’ I watch them leave, offering Cait a smile and a wave, then say, ‘Olivia, how is she?’

‘Fine. Wondering how you’re getting on. Thought it would be better to talk over the phone than through comms.’

‘How fine? I want to talk to her.’

‘Hold on.’

Rachael comes on the line. ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe her.’

‘Of course I believed her. You’re invincible.’ I stick my head out the taskforce room door and see Cait and Julian getting in the lift. Hurry up.

‘Any news?’

The hope in her voice drags my thoughts back from how long the lift will take to reach the ground floor.

‘Still trying. I will find him,’ I say fiercely.

‘You’re doing your best. That’s all anyone can do.’ But I hear the disappointment and I hate it.

‘Hill?’

The silence isn’t a good one. ‘Something’s gone down,’ she says and the flatness in her voice has me sitting. ‘Something we couldn’t have predicted, but … he’s got her, Lexi. The two we arrested told us Vaughn’s taken over here. He knows about the upcoming raids on the chemist and he’s moved the drugs. Some are here ready to be shipped out by boat. Most likely Carr’s, I’d say. Looks like you were right, but we’re just that bit too late figuring it out. I need you to stay put and stay safe while we work out what has to happen next. I don’t want you to worry. We will get him. We’ll keep you safe. He hasn’t made an announcement yet so she might still be alive. We keep going, keep searching for him. The coastguard has the boat so he’s not getting far.’

I know where he is. All I have to do is tell her and the place will be swarming with police in minutes. They’ll catch him. Unless he’s planned some clever way out. But even then, his chances would have to be slim.

But I know if I tell Rachael, if one person shows but me, Finn is dead. If he’s not already. And Vaughn knows I won’t tell anyone. I won’t sacrifice Finn for a chance to put him away. This is Vaughn’s way of getting me to come to him for that personal time he wanted. Of guaranteeing it. And I’m once again playing right into his hands.

‘Lexi?’

I take another look around. Everyone’s too busy to be paying any attention so I slip out, go into Rachael’s office and grab her car keys then charge for the lift. ‘I have to go. As soon as I know anything, I’ll call.’

‘We’ll be back there shortly.’

‘Have you seen a doctor?’

‘The paramedic has patched me up, the rest will wait.’

‘Get some good painkillers.’

‘Lexi, really?’ There’s a pause, then, ‘Is something going on? Why don’t you want me back there?’

‘What?’ I huff. ‘Fine, come back, be sore, whatever. Rachael?’

‘Yes?’

What exactly is it I want to say? If I never see you again, thanks for everything? ‘Nothing, never mind. I’ll see you soon.’ I hang up and press the button for the lift.

When I get in and it closes without incident I let out a relieved sigh. Why Soldiers Beach? I know it’s a few minutes from Jenny Dixon Beach but I’ve only been there once to drop the girls off for something. I remember a single long, winding road in, an endless, isolated stretch of beach at the base of a steep hillside covered in bushland. Nestled just above that beach was the surf club and a generous carpark. And nothing else. But how can he guarantee we’ll be alone?

I turn left instead of right out of the carpark to avoid driving out onto the main road past the crowd, manoeuvre through a few side streets to get back on track and wonder how long it will take before my absence is noted. I would have preferred a patrol car so I could have used the lights and gotten there faster but that wasn’t going to happen without drawing attention. Julian’s going to be in trouble again, especially if I die. I silently apologise to him. Cait crosses my mind. ‘Fuck. And fuck this,’ I tell myself angrily. ‘I’m not fucking dying today!’

There’s time for a million racing thoughts as it seems to take forever to reach Vaughn’s location. I glance at my phone. I turned it off so they can’t track me, yet now I’m wondering if they’re trying to call me. I hate worrying Rachael but if there’s any chance at all of saving Finn, I have to try.

I’m winding along an empty road surrounded by coastal bushland that’s heavy with the misty rain. The wipers are intermittently clearing the windscreen, squeaking quietly. A couple of crows fly away from their meal of something dead as I drive past, then hit the brakes at a Road Closed sign at the top of Soldiers Point Drive. Yellow and black barricades prevent me getting through. Another sign tells me the club is closed for renovations. I guess this is how Vaughn knows we’ll be alone. I reverse just enough, spin the wheel and slide around the barricade then, just a little faster than I should, head towards the surf club.

There’s no way he’s not going to see me coming so I don’t bother hiding my arrival. I park right at the doors and step inside. The venue is dark with the late afternoon overcast skies, the only light coming from the emergency exit signs. I step quietly through to a function room filled with tables and chairs and bordered by glass showcasing the angry coastline. I spin when I hear a rattle of sound to my left.

Vaughn is seated, relaxing at one of the tables with a takeaway coffee and fish and chips in front of him. Hill is bound and gagged, perched awkwardly on a chair beside him.

‘See, I told you. You care too much,’ he tells me. ‘Remember that conversation? I said all that concern for other people would be what kills you and look, here you are.’

‘Where’s Finn?’

‘Alive. Mind flicking on that light behind you?’

I do as I’m told and the room floods with a warm glow.

He smiles, uses a chip to point to a seat. ‘Sit. Please.’

I hesitantly walk towards him. Sit stiffly, ready to spring at the slightest cue.

‘Gun and phone on the table.’

I take them out and lay them there. ‘Happy?’

‘Yes. Actually. It’s nice to see you.’

‘Cut the shit. Why isn’t she dead?’ I ask with a glance at Hill. Her eyes widen in fear and it might seem cold, but I know what she is and I have little sympathy. ‘I thought you’d be keen to announce your win.’

‘They would have bundled you up into hiding for a start. Even the lure of Carson’s possible demise couldn’t have gotten you out here after that. Kind of him to turn up at Lizzy’s, though. Saved me hours. I was thinking I was going to have to wait until he got home tonight. Anyway, I was going to kill this one at the very end of the evening, announce it, then await your response.’

‘I’m guessing the plan was I’d be dead by then.’ I keep my tone as casual as I can but I’m wound so tight I can barely breathe.

‘Public didn’t need to know that. They were supposed to think you’d run away to lick your wounds. My popularity could have soared one more time.’

‘What’s changed?’

The violent slamming of his fists on the table catapults my heart into my mouth. ‘The fucking video! My private conversation with Lizzy!’ He settles back into his chair as though the outburst never happened. ‘That was rude, Lexi. And very naughty of Rachael, letting that slip out into the public domain. Seems you’ve gained some sudden popularity.’

I swallow back my nerves. ‘Well, at least you’ve got your new drug business, right? Congratulations. I hear it’s big.’ I’m wondering how long we’re going to do small talk. Why. I need to know what he’s done with Finn.

‘I finally get what I should have had two decades ago.’ He drains his coffee and I get a good look at the bruise Zander no doubt put under his jaw. It gives me at least a small amount of satisfaction. ‘So the public can go fuck themselves. I’ll get my admiration the way I prefer it.’

‘What was it? Drugs, money and violence?’

‘Fear’s an important one.’

‘Carr’s not coming. We got him.’

‘Carr was only part of the plan. A small loss. I don’t put all my eggs in one basket.’

‘So I held up my side, I’m here. Where’s Finn?’

‘Oh, we’ll get to that. I was just telling Heather how I stole her business. It’s a good story.’

‘Pass.’

‘No, you have to hear it, truly. You see, I saw that she was running a charity for teens and I knew those kids would have been sucked into her little drug kingdom. I remembered how she tended to treat her minions from when I was sucked in as a teen and it occurred to me one or more of them might like the opportunity to take her out. So I stalked them a bit, learnt they liked to party at the beach every Friday night. Then one of those nights I joined the party. Oh, they weren’t real interested in talking to me at first—older guy, you know—but I handed out some free alcohol, quickly became everyone’s best friend. I casually mentioned this incredible website that let me pay back some arsehole boss that had been giving me shit. We had a few laughs over it and I made sure everyone knew how to find the website, then I left them to it and hoped the idea might take hold. It only took Lizzy two days to dive in. I told her I’d help her with her problem if she helped me with you. The only reason Lizzy befriended Cait in the first place was because I instructed her to.’

‘This is not news to me. Where’s Finn?’

‘You figured it out?’ He chuckles. ‘I wish I didn’t have to kill you. You’re the only person on this earth that doesn’t bore me to tears.’

‘You’ve been doing a pretty good job entertaining yourself with ghosts, though, haven’t you. Where’s Finn, Vaughn?’

‘Jenny Dixon was an added opportunity to screw with your head and cast doubt on your sanity, and the media were always going to love it. Lizzy did. So I ran with it, fine-tuned it and ensured none of them survived their unfortunate accidents.’

‘And then you killed Lizzy.’

‘I didn’t need her anymore.’ And that, to him, was the simple, easy truth. ‘Laugh for me, Lexi.’

‘Laugh?’ I almost do, just at the stupidity of it. ‘You want to kill me and you want me to laugh about it?’

‘Oh, yes. Because while Carson’s out there, struggling through his final moments, panicked and drowning in that terrible cold ocean, I think it would rub salt in the wound if he saw you in here laughing with me over fish and chips. How would that make you feel, Lexi, knowing that was his last image of you?’

‘What?’ I jump up, my chair upending and skidding along the floor as I rush to the window.

Vaughn grabs my hair and slams my head against the glass. ‘Look to your right. See that?’ All traces of polite Vaughn are gone—here is the monster relishing in his cleverness.

I catch the glint of something in the water as the waves churn and crash over it.

‘That’s the roof of Finn’s car. I doubt there’s much air in there.’

A surge of adrenaline-fuelled panic courses through me. I stomp down on his foot and twist free from his hold. Make a run for it.

Vaughn grabs me before I can reach the door and we go down, colliding with the table and scattering its contents. The gun goes wide but I get a hand on my phone, power it on, then have to throw myself sideways as a chair is swung at my head. The phone is kicked from my hand and a sideways glance tells me he’s picked up my gun. I propel myself through the door just as the first shot fires, then pull open the adjacent bathroom door before slipping behind the staircase. Vaughn takes the bait and charges in after me. I step back out and shove desperately at a cabinet of trophies, sending it crashing down against the doorway, shattering glass, its contents skidding across the floor. Another hard shove comes close to wedging it against the opposite wall. I doubt it’ll hold him for long—it’s not quite big enough—but all I can think is: Finn. I snatch up a large shard of glass—a basic weapon is better than nothing—and take off.

My legs fly over the tarred carpark and onto the thick, unstable dune, calves burning as they hit the firmer surface of wet sand. Is there any chance? It’s too dark, the sea too rough to properly make out how submerged the car really is. Another wave shoots high into the air and over the car. He has to be alive.

I push my aching legs harder, feel myself suffocating with panic. I’m not curious, Lex, I’m in love with you.

What had I been thinking? ‘I care about you but’? I’m such a fucking coward. Of course I fucking love him.

Why couldn’t I have told him that?

CHAPTER SIXTY

Finn struggled within the confined space of the car as it filled with water. Hands taped to the steering wheel and feet to each other made movement nearly impossible. The vehicle jerked violently in the waves. Cold, salty water invaded his mouth and eyes as he fought to breathe, to stay conscious against the lack of air and whatever injury had rendered him unconscious in the first place.

As he fought back panic, a shadow darker than those of the pounding waves moved outside his window. The car rocked violently. Was someone trying to get in? As he continued his fight to breathe, to get loose, the rocking eased.

A minute later it was replaced by a heavy object striking the window. Again, again. As he swallowed too much water and gasped for breath, it struck once more and shattered the glass. He felt sawing at his hands, the sharp sting of something slice as it missed its mark. He tugged desperately against the tape as it loosened then slipped from the steering wheel. He fought to rip the tape still binding his wrists together but a hand had grabbed his collar and was pulling him forcefully through the window. His head knocked against the car when another wave hit, then there was the chaos of more waves, more water in his eyes, his throat, the jarring wrench of his back as he was tossed around. He felt the sharp sting of sand against his body, signalling the presence of solid ground, but the waves continued to pull and drag. The hands shifted from his collar to under his arms, battling against the relentless current. Using his taped feet, he called on every bit of strength he had left to push himself up the beach.

He opened and closed his eyes several times in an attempt to focus them, wondering if it was just the salt or maybe concussion that was responsible for the blurred vision.

‘Hey.’

His face was taken lightly in two trembling hands. His vision sharpened to recognise Lexi’s terrified face.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he croaked out, rolling on his side and coughing up what felt like half the ocean. ‘I’m okay.’ Dizzy and nauseous, he rolled back, breathed in some large, heaving gulps of air. ‘You?’

She swiped her sleeve angrily across her face and started working at the tape around his wrists with what looked like broken glass. ‘I thought I was too late! You scared the fuck out of me!’ She stopped sawing at the tape to give him a shove.

He managed a smile. ‘Sorry.’ He coughed. ‘What’s going on? Where’s Vaughn?’

‘Can’t be sure,’ she said as she got his hands free. ‘But—’

‘Touching reunion, but I’m afraid we’re out of time!’

Finn spun, looked, couldn’t see him.

Lexi’s head swung around. ‘And you need to be somewhere?’ she shouted back, scanning the beach. ‘Off you go then! Oh, and if you think I’m scared of you coming for me one day? Ha! Start looking over your shoulder, you sadly delusional, below-average piece of shit! You won’t last that long!’

A primal roar echoed off the hillside and along the beach, followed by the crack of a gunshot. The ping off the almost submerged car suggested it had just missed them.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I can’t let him leave. I can’t live my life wondering every day when he’ll be back for me.’ She looked down at the thick rolls of duct tape wrapping his legs and ankles. ‘This is going to take too long. You’re a sitting duck. He wants me, he can chase me. Take this.’ She handed him the glass. ‘My phone’s at the surf club. Hopefully it’s leading everyone here and we can end this today. In case it’s not, call them. I’ll meet you there.’

‘But—’

She planted her lips hard against his. ‘He’s got Hill tied up in the function room. Stay alive.’

Terror rocketed through him as she pushed to her feet and started running up the beach.

Another bullet cracked.

‘Seems a little impersonal and desperate, doesn’t it?’ she yelled.

Two more bullets cracked in rapid succession but she dived, unharmed, into the cover of the scrub.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

I push as far as I can into the thick scrub, hoping to make myself more difficult to find. Hopefully he’s not going to risk losing me to go after Finn and he’s obviously not a good shot. That’s something. Keeping low, I navigate towards the surf club, doing my best to maintain my sense of direction. The sound of the ocean is echoing around me. It’s almost too dark in the damn misty rain to see anything. It’s disorienting and cold. My feet squish in my soaked shoes, my clothes are stuck to me like clingwrap. All this terrain looks the same. I start to shiver. Where is he?

‘I killed her, Lexi!’

I hear his voice floating towards me.

‘You left her there to die. Didn’t even help her. Couldn’t risk losing. Not now.’

I sink even lower into the darkness, eyes scanning for any hint of movement among the trees.

‘I win. You agreed to play, so stop hiding. Give me what you owe me!’

He’s getting closer. I know I need to keep moving, but moving quietly is nearly impossible.

‘You’re not really going to leave Finn out there alone on the beach for me to shoot, are you?’

I hear a shot and my heart thuds in my chest. He’s bluffing, I reassure myself. Trying to flush me out. Finn’s got to have removed that tape and found cover by now.

I keep going, watching my feet, ducking, bending and twisting around branches. It’s not that far back but it’s slow going. Every shadow that moves between the trees has my heart jumping into my throat, but it’s nothing concrete, just breeze and branches and moonlight.

My shirt catches and one of those branches cracks. I freeze, hold my breath and untangle myself, move a bit faster, just in case the sound echoed. Where is he? I spot the road on the hill ahead. I’m getting closer to the surf club. Hopefully Finn’s made it—

I’m knocked into with a force that sends me sprawling sideways onto the rough ground. I scramble to get up but my ankle is caught. I kick wildly to get free, twisting onto my back in time to see Vaughn lunge forward with a hunting blade. It sinks into the top of my thigh and tears downward. The pain is excruciating. I kick out desperately with my other foot, land one under his jaw that sends him backwards.

In agony, I roll onto my stomach and, clutching my leg, try to get my good one under me. I can feel the blood soaking my hand and know he’s gone deep. I’ve seen it before. On someone who died. I try to keep myself calm but my pulse is slamming in my ears.

In my peripheral vision, I see him towering over me.

‘Where are you off to?’ he asks pleasantly. ‘Wish we didn’t have to rush this.’ He grabs the waistband of my pants and drags me back, then a shove throws me over onto my back. He arcs the knife and brings it down again. I twist out of the way, hear the blade stab into the earth beside me. I close my hand around a rock and swing it. There’s a thud as it connects and knocks him off balance, but there’s not enough strength behind the swing to do any real damage. I slide my good leg under me and almost collapse when I put weight on the injured one. I’m brought down again.

He laughs. ‘Points for trying. You don’t give up, do you?’ He thrusts the knife at my chest again and again while I struggle with my own panic and do my best to block the blows, but my forearms are on fire from the slices they’re copping.

Somehow in the chaos, my elbow connects at just the right angle so he catches himself with his own blade as he brings it up for leverage.

He rears back, eyes wide with shock, and touches two fingers to the cut just above his cheek. They come away wet with blood. ‘My face!’ His expression contorts with rage. With a loud growl, he backhands me so hard my vision explodes with stars. As I desperately try to escape, two hands roughly grab my clothing and I’m driven headfirst like a ragdoll into a nearby tree. More stunning pain. I’m booted hard in the stomach.

‘Stop!’

Boot.

‘Fighting!’

Boot.

‘Me!’

Boot.

I can’t breathe, can’t manage anything but a slow, stunned roll into the foetal position, which is halted when I’m once again picked up and slammed into the ground.

Everything hurts, but in a dazed kind of way that my mind vaguely recognises as losing consciousness. I could easily let go, drift off.

Footsteps stop by my head. Enough fear spears through me to penetrate the welcome haze. It tells me if I let go, I die. As awareness trickles back, the pain reawakens with it, but I’ve got nothing left.

Vaughn drops down beside me, drags the hair from my face. Through my semi-closed eyes I see him staring, head tilted, smiling. ‘That’s better.’ He laughs. ‘Oh, Lexi, I’m going to cut you to pieces.’

He leans forward to roll me over and I see the gun poking out of his jeans at his lower back. I almost don’t care. It’s too hard. I can’t.

Fuck that.

I force my body up, clashing heads with him in the process. My hand closes around the gun. It catches on his belt but I tug, refusing to let go, and it comes away. There’s no real time or room to aim but as I fall back, I pull the trigger.

He stumbles, crashes into a small, twisted tree and slides slowly to the ground, clutching his stomach. I fire again, but nothing happens. The gun is empty. My hand falls to my side.

Almost in slow motion, Vaughn looks down at the wound. After a moment, his head tilts sideways and he studies me as though he can’t quite believe it. ‘Bitch. You fucking got me.’

‘Wish I could’ve got you again.’

He huffs out a laugh. ‘You’re going to bleed out from that leg wound.’

I’m clutching at it. It’s sticky and warm and wet and, fuck, it hurts. Everything hurts. ‘I’ll still consider it a victory if you die first.’

He reaches for but can’t quite get his fingers around his knife. Gives up. ‘I fucking hate you. If I love anything in this world, it’s how much I hate you. I had everything, but I just couldn’t leave you alone. You’re addictive, Lexi.’

‘I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to be horrified or flattered.’

He shifts a bit, grimaces. ‘You could have had everything. Anything on this earth you desired. With those computer skills of yours, you had the world at your feet. And you chose to be a cop with an average wage. That was the only thing I found disappointing about you. The one thing I still don’t understand.’

‘I don’t think someone like you could ever understand. Would you hurry up and die, please?’

‘Lexi!’ Finn’s voice. It’s echoed by Rachael’s and some others. They sound close but I don’t have the energy to call out.

‘Ah, shit,’ Vaughn breathes. ‘Can’t lose now.’

With a lunge I didn’t think he was capable of, he dives on me. His fingers dig into my leg and curl, opening up the deep gash.

The agonised scream has barely left my lips when his head whips back from Finn’s kick to the throat and my leg is released.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Finn fell to the ground next to Lexi while Rachael dived on Vaughn’s knife and stood over him, gun drawn and expression dangerous. Two other officers arrived behind them, speaking on their radios. ‘I’m going to let you keep still because you’re injured,’ she said to Vaughn, ‘but move from that spot and I’ll put a bullet in you, understand? Damon Vaughn, you’re under arrest. You do not have to—’

‘No!’ Vaughn objected, pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning heavily against the tree. ‘She can’t win!’

Finn tried not to panic as he looked over Lexi’s slumped figure. In the torchlight, her face was pale and damaged, her lips blue, her eyes dull, glassy orbs that flickered with the struggle to stay conscious. He swung the torch around, took in the slashes to her arms, the blood oozing from between her fingers where she clamped them over her thigh. He gently pried her fingers away and fought back panic.

‘Don’t you move!’ Rachael growled menacingly when Vaughn once again shifted as though to get a better look.

He laughed. ‘She’s as good as dead.’

‘Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,’ Lexi muttered weakly.

Finn pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around the leg wound. ‘Hey, I’ve got to tighten this, okay?’

Her breathing was laboured, shallow. ‘Yeah.’

‘There,’ he said, ‘that’s stopped the bleeding. You’ll be fine,’ he lied.

‘You won’t win, Lexi! Even if you don’t die here. This is not over! You think prison will stop me? I’m still going to get you.’

‘I’m sure you’ll try,’ she got out, teeth gritted against the pressure Finn was exerting on her leg.

‘The world will know you haven’t beaten me. I’ll talk to the media about how I surrendered and you tried to kill me. They’ll lap it up.’

‘Shut up, Vaughn,’ Finn growled while Rachael did her best to direct backup to their location.

Vaughn laughed victoriously. ‘All my contacts! All my money! She’s never going to have a peaceful day or night for the rest of her life!’ Again he attempted to shift closer.

Finn pulled his gun and pointed it at Vaughn’s forehead, snarling, ‘Stay back and shut up.’

‘You’ll beg me to end it, Lexi!’ Vaughn taunted. ‘I will never admit defeat. Never stop torturing you.’

Lexi’s breath trembled out and her eyelids drooped, but the anxiety was there. A look at Rachael told him Vaughn was getting to all of them. But Lexi was his sole focus. In prison, there would be nothing to amuse Vaughn except to come up with ways to hurt her. Tonight would only be the tip of the iceberg.

‘Every waking moment will be a living hell.’ Vaughn sounded crazy and his eyes were wild. ‘Wondering what I’m plotting. Wondering who I’ll send after you next … or after those you care about. You’re going to suffer.’

Finn’s jaw clenched, his finger twitching on the trigger. She’d never live a normal life. Never get to enjoy another day. I can’t live my life wondering when he’ll be back for me. Wasn’t that what she’d told him?

‘I’m screwed up, so I’ll get some psych sentence and all my new fans will rally around. I’ll walk in a few years!’

A uniformed cop, not caught up with signalling in backup, shook his head in disgust and kicked at the ground. An all-consuming, protective anguish settled over Finn. His gaze hit Rachael’s tortured one and he saw his own feelings mirrored in her expression. They’d promised once they’d never let this happen. It couldn’t be allowed to happen.

His gaze dropped deliberately from Rachael’s to the knife, returned to her face. For two beats, three, while Vaughn continued to spew out demented threats and the knife trembled in Rachael’s bandaged hand, he watched the silent struggle rage behind her eyes, and kept his resolute. Do it, he pressed silently.

‘Hey, I know, I’ll start with those kids of Bailee’s,’ Vaughn taunted Lexi. ‘I’ll get some perv or other onto them as soon as I’m inside.’

Ever so slowly, Rachael’s fingers loosened on Vaughn’s blade.

‘I’ll fucking kill you,’ Lexi managed to whisper weakly. ‘I’ll—’

The blade slipped, slipped again, then fell from Rachael’s lax fingers.

Vaughn pounced on it, eyes alight with delirious excitement. ‘I win, bitch!’

Before the knife could complete its arc, Finn fired.

Vaughn’s body jerked, then slumped, his expression lifeless shock.

Finn waited for the guilt to hit.

It didn’t. The relief was too intense.

‘Nice shot,’ the officer said with a nod, then moved off to help signal in the others.

‘What—what just happened?’ Lexi gasped.

‘Your life was at risk,’ he said.

She tried to move, to see. ‘How … He … Rachael?’

‘Your life was at risk,’ Rachael repeated, slumping slightly against a tree to support her arm.

‘Got the first aid kit,’ Julian said, sliding to a stop next to Finn as more police arrived behind him. ‘Oh, shit,’ he said, getting a better look at Lexi. ‘Ambos are en route. Let me treat that wound.’

Lexi dragged her eyes from Vaughn’s body to Julian. ‘Forget it.’

‘We should get the bandage—’

‘Touch that leg and I’ll end you.’

He stood and moved back, hands up in surrender.

‘You’re so scary, Lexi,’ Finn teased, hoping to see some of the strain leave her face, even for a moment. He didn’t like the tremors running through her or the sheen of perspiration that had erupted on her face.

‘They’ll never get a stretcher in here,’ Rachael said.

‘Hey,’ he said to Lexi, sweeping her damp hair back from her eyes. ‘I’ve got to get you out of here, okay?’

‘I’d rather wait for fentanyl,’ she complained, her eyes drooping closed again.

‘Can’t blame you for that.’ He slid his arms under her as gently as he could and lifted her slowly, made sure his hold was steady.

‘Go ahead. Clear a path!’ Rachael ordered the other officers.

Lexi’s head lolled slightly against his shoulder. ‘He’s dead, right?’

‘Yeah, he is. It’s over.’

‘It never would have been. Otherwise.’

He picked up his pace. Every second seemed an eternity as he fought the terrain and felt her blood dripping through his fingers. ‘He’ll never hurt you again.’

‘Guess I owe you.’

‘Totally.’

‘What?’

Live. Just live. ‘I’ll let you decide.’ He could see the lights from the ambulance coming down the hill. Not far. Not much further.

‘How about a date?’ she breathed, then her head dropped from his shoulder as she sank into unconsciousness.

‘I’m holding you to that,’ he choked out through his building panic.

EPILOGUE

‘Congratulations, detective!’ Rachael holds up her glass and toasts with the rest of the room.

I join in with my JD. No point ruining a celebration drinking stuff I don’t like. ‘Thanks.’ I don’t think they could have fit one more person in the gym. Rodger and Zander have turned it into the perfect space for this little celebration. I’m not big on being the centre of attention, but it was planned without me. Like it or not, here I am.

‘I still can’t believe it,’ Dawny says loudly. ‘First you go and join the coppers, now you become one of them detectives. Just don’t forget who your friends are, that’s what I say. You owe us a few favours.’

‘Is there something you want to tell me, Dawny?’ I ask suspiciously.

‘Well, not right now. But we might catch up in the next few days, eh? Bet you wouldn’t mind a pie.’

I grin, but she exchanges glances with Desmond and would I be surprised if there’s a drama brewing? Not at all.

‘Well done, Lexi,’ Rachael’s partner, homicide superintendent Ed O’Hanlon, says, bending to kiss me on the cheek. ‘Good to have you officially on board.’

‘Yes, you’ve been with the team for so long this is really just a formality, but,’ Rachael says, ‘you’re sticking with us, right?’

I look gratefully from Ed to Rachael, then my eyes seek out Finn, who’s been talking to Linc but who now latches onto my gaze with one hot enough to halt the breath in my lungs.

‘What—ah, what other team is there?’ I joke.

‘At least until you’re running your own,’ Rachael says with a wink.

‘Knowing her, that won’t be far away,’ Finn says, joining us.

‘The fan mail’s still coming in,’ Ed tells everyone. ‘You’ve made the police force very popular. There’s been interest from a much wider pool of applicants than usual. Some that didn’t think it was a career path open to them or that didn’t previously think it would be something of interest to them.’

‘Loads of interest in Cyber,’ Neutron calls out, overhearing.

I guess I like that. Not the popular part—couldn’t care less. But if I had something to do with even a few people out there turning their lives around, then that’s kind of a nice thought.

‘That’s too high!’ I hear Bailee call out. I see her kids, Lucy and Kai, climbing up the gym ropes. Mike is trying to talk Kai down but he’s gone too far up and has decided he’s stuck.

‘Got him!’ Zander says, bounding over to the rope. He climbs to the top, sweeps Kai onto his back and brings him down safely.

‘Me too!’ Lucy calls out eagerly, bouncing around at the end of her rope, wanting a turn. Zander hefts her onto his back and goes up and down, his new girlfriend nurse Kylie swooning jokingly over his strength, which I think was the point.

I spend a couple of hours doing something I generally avoid. Mingling with friends and family. I am who I am and I don’t think I want or need to change much, but this is actually kind of nice and maybe there’s one or two old ways of thinking I can—I want to—let go.

‘Lexi, we’re going to head off. Thanks for inviting us,’ Alexi says, coming over with his wife, Christina.

‘Thanks for coming,’ I tell them. Both have treated me like family from the second I agreed to meet with them. They’re part of a much bigger family that wants to get to know me. It’s a process.

‘How about we order pizza?’ Ava suggests when most of the guests follow their lead.

I decide I should help Zander and Rodger tidy up and start consolidating leftovers onto a couple of platters. ‘You’ve been eating canapes all afternoon. Where would you put it?’

‘Always room for pizza … and Coke.’

As I pass Finn, I’m dragged down onto his lap for a toe-curling kiss. ‘We can’t,’ he announces. ‘We’re going on a date.’

Ava rolls her eyes. ‘Only date number twenty billion and whatever!’

‘We’re celebrating!’ Finn objects.

‘You can come to the movies with us, Av,’ Cait offers, flicking her eyes up from her phone screen to check with Harry.

‘And get pizza,’ he adds with a wide grin.

‘Cool!’

Rachael chuckles. ‘For a woman who didn’t date, you’re certainly making up for lost time.’

‘I’ve decided it’s not so bad,’ I say and push off Finn’s lap to resume cleaning up. I take a leftover plate of food to the kitchen, then stare at the fridge and have to wonder if it’s going to all fit.

Finn comes in behind me with another plate. ‘You’re going to have to take it with you.’

‘Hmm. That means going home again before we go out.’

He gently presses me against the wall and nuzzles at my ear. ‘We could both go.’

‘You really want to follow me home?’

‘First time I did that you told me you didn’t need a puppy and slammed my foot in the door.’

I can’t help the laugh that burbles out. ‘See, I knew then and there I’d never get rid of you.’

A gentle tug to my hair draws my head back for a kiss. ‘We’re going to make that official one day, right?’

I smile slowly. ‘Let me get used to the idea.’ As I can’t quite get my head around the fact I’m even in a relationship, it can wait. I have a feeling we’ll get there.

Both phones ring and we exchange groans and step apart.

‘Carson.’

‘Winter.’

* * *

‘Sorry to drag you out after the big celebration,’ Linc says as we join him for the arrest.

‘Are you kidding?’ I tell him. ‘This is Merv’s killer we’re talking about. Where else would we be?’

‘On a date,’ Finn grumbles.

‘He’s inside. Front room,’ Linc says, passing Finn the binoculars. ‘Looks like he’s got his brother and a mate with him.’

From our perch at the top of the steep driveway, I stare down to the bottom of the hill where the terrain levels out to accommodate a house, a couple of decent-sized paddocks and a large machinery shed. Three cars are parked out front. One is Jim Walker’s.

‘How’d you find him?’ I ask.

‘Reward money and nosy neighbours.’

My gaze moves to a house further up the hill. A few lights are on. ‘Guess we’ll have an audience.’

‘Let’s go knock on his door,’ Finn says. ‘You want the backup?’

Linc looks over his shoulder at the two uniformed police chatting by their car. ‘We’ll leave them up here in case he somehow slips past us.’

‘He won’t. That prick’s enjoying his last moments of freedom,’ I say.

Our car crawls down the drive and sensor lights spring to life outside the house. I see a figure get up and move to the window, craning his neck to get a look at our car.

‘I’ll stay here,’ I tell Finn and Linc. ‘You go get him.’

Finn nods his agreement and they approach the door. I watch it open, watch them show their IDs and step inside. I can almost count the three, two, one until the commotion kicks off.

I instinctively move around the side of the house, hear a back door crash and pick up my pace. I see someone—I’m assuming it’s Jim—take off and I go after him. It’s a decent sprint and over two gates to the barn-style machinery shed. Jim rushes inside, slamming the door behind him. I try it—locked. I back away and look up to where a couple of narrow windows sit, wide open. Launching myself up with the help of a nearby gatepost, I clamber onto the roof, wondering if I can get inside.

A light flicks on and the unmistakable roar of a quad engine echoes through the shed. I remember the cops at the top of the drive and alert them, then as—no, I can’t get in at this end—I continue my tentative climb along the roof, I spot what might be a dirt track leading off into bushland at the other end. I’m guessing that’s his escape route. ‘Fuck,’ I mutter, remembering my promise to Linc and wondering if it covers the possibility of suicide. He’s coming out the back for sure. I edge towards the guttering.

Finn sprints from the house, his voice urgent. ‘Lexi, don’t! You’ll break your neck!’

‘He’s going to get away!’

I hear a growl and a, ‘It’s gonna hurt.’

Headlights swing past me. I’m guessing Linc’s in the car, but he’s going to be slowed down by the gates.

A roller door thunders open and, with no time for second-guessing, I slip off the edge as the quad roars out and just manage to snag Jim around the throat on my way down. In a landing that’s much less skilful and quite a bit more uncomfortable than planned, I drag him off the quad bike.

‘Where do you think you’re going, arsehole?’ I puff as I wrestle with him.

Dodging an elbow, I manage to grab his arm. I twist his wrist, get him over and straddle him.

‘Get off me, you crazy bitch!’

I bend down to talk in his ear. ‘You killed a decent man who meant a lot to a very good friend of mine. You want to see crazy? Keep resisting arrest. Give me an excuse, you piece of shit.’

Then Finn is there. ‘Hurt much?’ he asks with a teasing edge of I-told-you-so.

‘No one likes a smartarse.’

We exchange grins.

A crash sounds as the quad hits something, but I don’t pay much attention as I cuff Jim. ‘You’re under arrest for the murder of Merv Doolan. You’re not obliged to say or do anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say or do may be used in evidence.’

‘Wait. You again?’ Jim spits as he finally gets a good look at me. ‘Who the hell are you, anyway?’

The title falls short of leaving my mouth because, well, everything has changed.

Sensing my hesitation, Finn smiles. ‘So tell him.’

‘Detective Constable Lexi Winter,’ I say, dragging him to his feet. ‘Homicide.’

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Writing the Lexi Winter series has been so rewarding, and I am profoundly grateful for the overwhelming support Lexi has received—thank you. I owe a debt of gratitude to everyone who has helped bring these stories to life.

My heartfelt thanks to the entire team at HQ/HarperCollins, especially Jo Mackay for your unwavering belief and support. Special thanks also to Kylie Mason and Annabel Blay for the amazing work on the manuscripts and to Cecelia Ramsdale for the incredible job on the audiobooks. Clare Forster, thank you for your tireless efforts and faith in my stories.

To Christopher Berry-Dee, thank you for allowing me to mention your incredible work. To my fabulously talented and generously dedicated friends in forensics and child protection, who choose to humbly remain anonymous, your invaluable support for my books is deeply appreciated.

Tea Cooper, Charlie Smith, and Paula Beavan, thank you for your fabulous critiquing. Kate Jackson, Senior Sergeant Danny Jackson, and retired Inspector Steve Apps, thank you once again for sharing your vast knowledge and experience.

To my family, without whose support I could never get these books written, you have my deepest gratitude. Peter, for all your IT expertise, you’re amazing. Janine Fischer, Craig Slavek, Jess Clarke and to everyone else who might not be specifically mentioned—there are so many incredible people and not enough space—thank you.

Finally, to the readers and reviewers who support my stories in so many different ways, you are so very much appreciated. xx

ISBN: 9781867274568

TITLE: ENDGAME

Published in Australia 2024

Copyright © 2024 by Sarah Barrie

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First published on Gadigal Country in Australia in 2024

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