The Lost Man

by Jane Harper

  Nathan had refused to fight with her in front of Xander. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he and Jacqui didn’t get along. It probably wasn’t all her fault either, Nathan could admit in his more honest moments. It had been a hard few years, both being married and being separated, and since Jacqui had left, he’d found that sometimes he did feel better. Like when he was lying in the back of his car with a nice Dutch barmaid. But he always missed Xander.

  Nathan sometimes wondered what would have happened that day if he had ignored Keith at the service station, gotten in his car, and driven straight home. He could have shaken his father-in-law’s hand on the way past—he could have punched him full in the face—and things still would have worked out better in the long run.

  He hadn’t done either of those things. He’d finished paying for his fuel, and Keith had called out to him across the forecourt.

  “You need to know, Nathan, Kathy and I are going to pay for Jacqui’s lawyers.”

  “Bullshit.” Nathan stopped mid-stride just meters from his car.

  “It’s true.”

  “I don’t bloody doubt it’s true.” Nathan changed direction and came close to Keith. “I mean, it’s bullshit that you’re sticking your oar in.”

  “We feel you’re being unreasonable—”

  “Me?”

  “—and we want to make sure Jacqui’s well represented. And Xander.”

  “Xander’s fine, mate. He doesn’t need your help. He needs to see his dad from time to time, that’s what he needs.”

  “Nathan—”

  “If your bloody daughter—”

  “Hey, watch yourself.” Keith sounded out of breath.

  “No, you watch yourself. If your bloody daughter had her way, I would never see him at all.”

  Keith didn’t reply, but the answer played out across his face as clearly as if he’d said it. Yes, ideally.

  Nathan felt a stirring of fear. He’d expected some pushback on the custody arrangements, but he hadn’t considered they would go that far. They couldn’t cut him off from Xander completely, could they? He thought not, but then, Keith had some pretty deep pockets.

  Nathan took a step in, raised a finger, and pointed at his former father-in-law. He could see Kylie, the service station attendant, watching them through the window. Later, she would be quick to say that Nathan was behaving aggressively. Right then, he didn’t care.

  “Keith, mate.” Nathan kept his voice soft and controlled. “You listen to me carefully, because this is the truest thing you are going to hear all year. You might be able to buy and sell every bloody cow in this district, but you can’t keep me away from Xander.”

  “It’s what Jacqui wants.”

  “Tough shit. Jacqui’s going to have to live with it.”

  Keith jangled his keys, perhaps a touch nervously. “Not if I can help it. If you’d been a better husband and father in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this position.”

  “Mate, there’s nothing in this world that would keep that woman happy. Maybe if you hadn’t always been in her ear, telling her what a waste of space I am, then maybe she wouldn’t have left.”

  “You think it’s my fault she saw some sense? I tried my best with you, Nathan. I gave you that land, didn’t I? Gave you a chance?”

  Nathan laughed. “Yeah, right, you keep telling yourself that. I never had a bloody chance with that land, and you know it. You wanted me to stuff up, and you wanted Jacqui to see it, and you got your wish, mate. Well done. But you’re not going to get what you want when it comes to Xander.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Would you seriously be happy if I abandoned the kid? You think that would be better?”

  “Honestly? Yes. I don’t think Jacqui or Xander are better off for being around a man like you.”

  “Why?” Nathan felt a genuine stirring of curiosity beneath the anger. “What’s so bad about me? You’ve never even bothered to get to know me, Keith.”

  “I know men like you,” Keith said. “I’ve lived my whole life in the outback and I know what goes on out here. I know what men like you do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Keith opened his car door. “This is a waste of time. I’m not getting into this. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait. Who are you talking about? You mean my dad?”

  “For one.”

  “Hey. No.” Nathan put his arm out and grabbed the door, blocking Keith’s way. He was a lot bigger than the other man. “That’s not fair.”

  “You sure about that?” Keith looked pointedly at Nathan’s arm until he slowly dropped it. Keith shook his head and climbed into the car. He wound down the window. “Don’t try to call Jacqui. Communication should go through the lawyers.”

  “Jesus, Keith.” Nathan had leaned in through the window. Kylie, behind the service station counter, later remembered seeing that too. “This is between me and Jacqui. Keep your money out of it. You listening? I don’t want you messing around with my family.”

  “No, Nathan.” Keith had actually laughed. “You’re the one who’s not listening. I’m going to keep writing those checks as long as it takes. Jacqui and Xander aren’t your family, they’re mine, and I’m going to make sure they’re properly looked after. So you listen to me now. I don’t give a shit what you want. I care about what I want, and what Jacqui wants.”

  “And what exactly is that?”

  “Don’t bloody come near me or my family again.”

  Nathan could have reached through the window and broken the man’s nose. To that day, he sometimes wondered if he should have. The whole thing would have been done and dusted a lot quicker, at least. But somewhere, in the midst of it all, he had suddenly thought about Ilse. The magic of the night before had more or less been hosed off, thanks to Keith, but, for just a moment, the man in front of him seemed a tiny bit less important. He and his money couldn’t touch everything.

  Nathan had made himself take a long, deep breath. Without another word, and with a level of self-control he had barely demonstrated in all his life, he’d walked to his own car and driven away.

  * * *

  Nathan parked farther away from the grave than Harry did. It looked somehow even more lonely than it had the day before. Bub got out this time as well, and followed Harry over to the headstone. They stood side by side. The sand and the wind had almost entirely repaired the ground, as Nathan had expected. It was already hard to imagine Cameron lying there. Nathan watched through the windscreen as Bub said something, and the slightest frown crossed Harry’s face.

  Nathan turned to Xander. “Do you want to get out?”

  “No.” Xander was looking anywhere but at the place where Cameron’s body had been. “Do you?”

  “No.” They sat in the car as the smell of rotting food floated through from the back.

  * * *

  Nathan had spotted the expensive four-wheel drive from miles away. He’d left the service station with his hands gripping the steering wheel hard and Keith’s words ringing in his ears. Ilse and the night before seemed a long time ago, and now Nathan just felt hot and fractious. He’d been planning to drive straight home, but he could feel the lack of sleep catching up with him, and that was never good news on the road. He’d pulled over at the bakery and bought a coffee. He still felt tired, but as he sat in his car, sipping coffee and thinking about the reason for his lack of sleep, the smile started to return to his face.

  He’d hit the road twenty minutes later and was half an hour out of town when he saw the four-wheel drive parked at an angle on the gravel track. Not even parked, perhaps. Just stopped, half on the road, half off. Nathan had recognized the car well before he’d seen the figure leaning against the hood.

  Later, Nathan worked out that he must have had three or four minutes to make the decision. It hadn’t been spur of the moment, whichever way you cut it. It had been calculated, and in the end, that made it worse.

  Either way, the facts were the same. Nathan
had seen Keith’s car, parked at an angle, and then he’d seen Keith. One arm waving, one arm clutched by his side, and a look of deep disappointment on his face as he realized it was Nathan behind the wheel. Still, Keith had waved a second time, his body bent over slightly. One arm flapping in the air, the other down by his side, near the pocket where he kept his money. Nathan’s foot had touched the brake and then, without fully letting himself think about it, eased off again. He pictured Xander, miles away from him now, and he’d felt a weight in his chest and a rush of blood to his head. Somewhere beneath it all, he heard Keith’s words.

  “Don’t bloody come near me or my family again.”

  “Whatever you say, mate.”

  Nathan drove past and did not stop.

  11

  Not that anyone cared, but for the record, Nathan’s conscience had gotten the better of him. He’d turned around after thirty minutes, which became an hour by the time he got back to Keith’s car. The bloke’s four-wheel drive was still there, still parked at its odd angle, but there was no sign of Keith. Uneasy now, Nathan had called it in on the radio. There had been an unusually long wait before anyone had answered him. Keith had been taken away by ambulance, he was finally told.

  “Is he all right?” Nathan had asked. Another long wait. The dead static dragged on into a second minute.

  “It’s too late, mate,” said a voice at last. It had to be someone he knew, but he didn’t recognize the tone.

  “Too late for Keith? Shit, seriously?”

  “No. For you to pretend you give a fuck. He told us you left him.”

  And with that, Nathan’s radio had fallen silent.

  * * *

  Nathan glanced now over at Xander, who was watching Bub and Harry standing over the stockman’s grave. Bub had his back to them as Harry crouched by the headstone, examining what little remained of the small hole at its base. He stayed there for a long time, then finally stood and surveyed the land in every direction. Nathan didn’t bother turning his own head. He knew what was out there. Nothing, for miles and miles.

  * * *

  Keith had been having a stroke. He had nearly died. Nearly. But not quite, and no thanks at all to Nathan. Even knocking at death’s door as he was stretchered into the ambulance, Keith had summoned the energy to drag his oxygen mask from his mouth and tell his rescuers how Nathan had driven past. Leaving him for dead.

  Keith had, in fact, been discovered within fifteen minutes by a delivery driver. He was bloody lucky, everyone said. Chance in a thousand that anyone came along at all. The story had whipped through the district like a dust storm. The disgust and distrust were palpable. Leaving someone stranded out there was not a matter of manners, it was life and death in the most literal sense. Nathan had single-handedly managed to do the unthinkable and unite the entire town—white, Indigenous, old, young, long-standing rivals, firm friends. Thirty-year grudges were set aside for as long as it took to discuss Nathan’s transgression.

  On this issue alone, the entire community of Balamara was unwavering. Leaving a fellow man to the mercy of the elements was almost unimaginable and absolutely unforgivable. And if Nathan Bright, outback born and bred, didn’t understand that, then the life in that far-flung community was not for him.

  Nathan had apologized, sincerely and at length. As had Harry and Liz, on his behalf and, after a beat, Cameron as well. Jacqui had picked up the phone long enough to scream down the line at him from Brisbane, then hung up and called her lawyers. At least she spoke to him, Nathan later thought. She was one of the few who did.

  The community punishment was swift. There had been an excruciating town meeting where Nathan had stood up in front of sixty pairs of accusing eyes and read from a prepared apology. He’d been nervous, and it had come across as awkward and hollow, even to him. He tried to explain about the custody battle and the pressure he’d been under. It was no excuse. You could be on fire and half-dead yourself and you would still be expected to stop and help. There wasn’t a reason in the world that could justify what he had done. If it proved anything, it was that Jacqui’s custody concerns were valid. Her lawyers later got a transcript of what Nathan had said and used it against him.

  Jacqui herself had taken the trouble to compose an e-mail—to this day, Nathan had some very strong feelings about that—which her mother read out loud to the community meeting in a quivering voice, detailing the toll Nathan’s actions had taken on the family. That had been exceptionally well received. Nathan had caught even Bub nodding sympathetically in places.

  There had been some heated murmurs that Sergeant McKenna should charge Nathan with attempted manslaughter, which, thankfully, came to nothing. So instead, the townsfolk turned their backs and closed ranks. Like a cancerous growth, Nathan was excised, and the community healed without him.

  He was banned instantly from every public facility in town. The service station and the post office eventually had to agree to serve him, after Glenn ordered them to, but transactions were completed without eye contact. Pretty soon, words were whispered into the ears of Nathan’s casual staff, and they handed in their notices, one by one. He was forced to offer higher wages for lower skills and still couldn’t find replacements. He wasn’t able to handle all his cattle on his own and had to cut back. His usual mustering contractors refused to take his calls, finally admitting they’d been threatened with boycotts if they did business with him. Not that they would anyway. What kind of scumbag leaves a man for dead? He was forced to go further afield, and pay a lot more for a lot less.

  One morning, a few months after it happened, Nathan had woken up to a strange stillness on his property. He had lain there, anxious and unsettled, as it dawned on him. He was entirely alone. No staff. Nothing but static on the radio. Nathan stared at the ceiling. There was not a single other person near him for hours in every direction. He had been cast fully and completely adrift.

  * * *

  Xander was avoiding looking at the grave by rifling through the contents of Cameron’s glove box. Both cops had had a look, but Nathan hadn’t opened it up himself. It appeared well organized and practical. Much like the whole of the property under Cam’s dynamic leadership, he thought with a hint of bitterness.

  “Anything interesting in there?”

  “Not really.” Xander shook his head. “But it looks like he was planning to go to the repeater at some point. He’s got a repair guide here.”

  “Really?” Nathan reached out and took it. He turned it over in his hand. “Maybe just for show? So no one would realize he was planning to come here instead?”

  “Maybe,” Xander said. “But there’s a lot of info here. He’s printed out instructions and marked off all the equipment he’s packed.”

  Nathan frowned. “I suppose he could have changed his mind on the way?”

  Xander said nothing and shrugged, his eyes forward now and fixed on Harry and Bub.

  * * *

  Nathan had tried to call Ilse. He’d left it too long, out of fear of what she might have heard, and at a loss himself as to what to say. Don’t believe the worst, perhaps. But why shouldn’t she? It was true.

  He’d even looked for her at that terrible town meeting, and felt both giddy with relief and strangely disappointed when she wasn’t there. By the time he’d finally worked up the guts to phone the pub during her usual weekend shift, weeks had gone by. The manager had answered. He’d recognized Nathan’s voice and told him if he saw or heard from him again, it wouldn’t be the police he’d be calling to help solve the problem, if Nathan got his drift.

  Nathan had, but still found himself driving toward town the next weekend and the one after that. He had tried to work out which door of the staff accommodation belonged to Ilse and slipped a note underneath. He didn’t know if she’d ever gotten it. If she had, he never heard. He found himself parking in the shadows off the road and watching the lights of the pub from a safe distance. Unable to go in, but unable to stay away.

  He’d continued to do that for
a while in the following years, maybe once every six months. Just to hear the sound of voices other than his own inside his head. He would park in a dark corner, listening to the muffled chatter and occasional music floating from the pub. He didn’t do it anymore. Nearly a decade on, he wasn’t sure who would be inside these days, and whether any of the faces would recognize him. They’d remember his name, though, he suspected. The story seemed to have been handed down from ear to ear. He had become nothing more than a warning.

  One evening, not long after it happened, he’d seen Cameron and Bub come out of the pub, laughing and shaking hands with a few of the same blokes who now looked straight through Nathan. Nathan had kept his distance from his brothers as much as he could since it had all blown up. They hadn’t spelled it out, but he knew what he’d done had stained them too. He kept away so they didn’t have to ask him to.

  He’d watched them outside the pub, and his initial flash of betrayal had slowly morphed into something more cautiously optimistic. But the call he’d been hoping for from Cam—“Come down, mate, I’ve straightened things out. I’ve explained. They know you’re sorry”—had never come. A week later, Nathan had driven in again, and this time seen what he realized he’d been waiting for.

  Ilse had been illuminated by the single streetlight as she finished her shift. He’d had his hand on the door and a garbled apology ready, when the manager and two stockhands had followed her out, chatting among themselves as she locked up. They’d lingered in the street after she’d finished, and Nathan had had to watch her walk away, the regret sour and sharp inside him. After that, he had swallowed his pride and asked Cameron straight out to put in a good word at the pub.

  “Mate, I’m hardly ever in there myself,” Cam had said. It had sounded like he was frowning. “I only go so Bub has someone to talk to.”

  “Please, Cam. Ask if I can come back. There’s a girl. A nice one. Working behind the bar.” He was speaking a language his brother would understand.