Berry dragged in a breath and straightened up. ‘This is ridiculous—just get your act together,’ she said in a firm voice.
Turning back to the open drawer, she picked up the manila folders and placed them on the bench to go through later back at Cumquat Cottage. Finally, she turned her attention to the last drawer. Instead of it being empty like she thought, it was full of more papers, an old briefcase and several slim volumes. Berry picked one up and saw that it was a history of Harlington and the surrounding area. Another book was a collection of reminiscences and local legends.
Berry frowned as she found more of her father’s handwritten notes and scribbles. Whatever this was, it was obvious that it had been important to him. For a second she almost wanted to shut the drawer and walk away but something stopped her. Instead she scooped the material out of the drawer and stacked them on top of the manila folders.
It didn’t matter if it hurt. Berry was going to discover what he had been working on and why. Decision made, she carried the papers into the sunshine and placed them on an old outdoor chair until she could take them home. She looked back to where the tractor should have been, and pulling out her phone, decided to ring the only person who would know what happened to it.
‘Hey, Uncle Dave.’
‘Berry? Is something wrong?’
‘No, no—I’m okay, I just had a question. I was poking around the old sheds and I remembered the tractor. What happened to it after we left?’
‘Ah, it was sold, along with other bits and pieces—tools, and the cars. Jack Ford organised it for me. They held an auction and all the money that was made was put towards your education, and Tom’s and Jess’s. It seemed like the right thing to do.’
Berry paused for a moment. There was so much about her past that she didn’t know, and she felt as if she was intruding on decisions that affected her own life. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘I thought someone getting use out of the tractor was a better idea than locking it up for years. Was I wrong?’
‘No,’ Berry said quickly. ‘Of course not. I just wondered what had happened.’
‘You shouldn’t worry about the sheds. I doubt there’s much in them. But if you want to empty them, I’ll arrange for someone to come and do it,’ Uncle Dave said.
‘No, it’s okay. I can do it.’
‘Are you sure? You’ve got enough on your plate with getting the house fixed.’
‘You’re right about that. I’ll get the house organised before I tackle the sheds, okay?’
Uncle Dave gave a small laugh. ‘Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. Promise?’
‘Promise.’
‘Good, I’ve got an appointment, so I’ll talk to you later.’
‘Bye. Love you.’
‘Love you too,’ Uncle Dave said before the phone went dead.
Berry stared across the paddocks to the distant hills. Her uncle was right, she really did need to get the house squared away before she started tackling outside. Reluctantly she turned towards the house after giving the old shed a final glance. She needed to organise a contractor for the renovations and get this project moving. If she didn’t stop procrastinating, she would still be here next winter. In a way it didn’t really matter as she had no pressing business in Melbourne, but she didn’t want to burden her uncle’s finances too long. If there was a considerable hold-up she’d have to look for a part-time job somewhere up here.
With a little more determination in her step, Berry walked back to the house. Even though she’d only been back in Harlington for a short time, she knew deep down that she was dragging her feet on starting the reno. This was partly because she didn’t want to make a mistake and hire the wrong contractor, but mainly because even though she hated to admit it, seeing the house as it was brought back all her childhood memories. The more she was at the house, the more memories came back—flashes of her mum and grandparents … and even her dad. As she allowed herself to remember her childhood, Berry came to the realisation that in most ways it had been idyllic. There was never a lot of money to go around and sometimes they all had to make do with what they had, but still there was a comforting glow about the past that she couldn’t ignore any longer. The crackling of the open fire, the hot sweet porridge her mother would make each morning in winter, and how her breath would steam in the cold May air as she helped her mother pick apples in their orchard. How could Berry have forgotten how it felt to run barefoot across the paddocks when they were carpeted with spring grass, or the joy of taking the dingy with Jess and paddling over the island to play.
Her childhood had been snatched away by that one terrible day, and she had spent the rest of her life doing her damnedest to block everything else out. Berry had thrown herself into her studies and keeping her promise to her mum by looking after Jess and Tom. Perhaps she should have tried to hold on to some of her childhood memories, but instead she’d locked them up because remembering how happy she’d once been was just too painful. As soon as she started to think, the same question would always raise its ugly head: How could Dad do what he did? And equally as terrifying, if Jess and Tom had been there, if she had been there … would he have killed them too?
Chapter Ten
2007
As Constable Rob Mendez drove down the dirt road towards the McCalisters’ place the moon was high in the night sky, illuminating the flat paddocks dotted with clumps of tall gums and the odd shed. The house was not far ahead on the left, but if it hadn’t been for the light of the moon, Rob would have missed it.
It took about fifteen minutes to drive to Harlington from the Lawson’s Bend police station. This trip, however, was taking a little longer. One, because Stone Gully Farm was on the other side of Harlington and, two, he had his boss in the car.
He glanced over to his companion. ‘Do you know what’s going on, Sarge?’
‘Nope, only that the McCalister kids arrived by themselves at the Fords’ place. Young Berry told Mrs Ford that she had to call the police,’ Sergeant Adam Harris said as he kept his gaze on the road ahead. ‘I guess we’ll find out what’s going on when we get there.’
They were silent for the next couple of minutes, Rob scanning the side of the road for any kangaroos that might decide to jump out without warning. Having grown up in inner-city Melbourne, he thought his co-workers were winding him up when they warned him about this when he first moved to Lawson’s Bend. That was until driving home one evening, from Bendigo, he had to swerve to miss a kangaroo as it bounded across the road—it had scared the life out of him and he’d been vigilant ever since. Over the past couple of months he had tried to settle into country life, but he reckoned he’d never get used to this.
Rob pulled off the dirt road onto a patch of withered grass outside the McCalister property. A small dark-coloured hatchback and a white ute sat in the driveway, but not a single light shone from the house.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Sergeant Harris said as he cracked open the door. ‘Keep on your toes, we don’t know what we’ll find.’
Rob nodded before he got out of the car and headed towards the front door with Harris. As it was midsummer and the air was still warm, he could detect a hint of jasmine mixed with the scent of far-off rain—it was clear and sweet and made him draw in a deep breath. He flinched as Harris rapped forcibly on the front door, the sound was sharp and echoed through the darkness.
‘Hello, this is the police. Is anyone there?’
They stood by the front door for a moment as the silence enveloped them. Harris shook his head before knocking again.
‘Hey, it’s Adam Harris. McCalister, are you there?’ He glanced over at Rob before he turned the doorknob and slowly opened the door. He reached over and ran his hand up the inside wall until he found the light switch and flicked it on. The light illuminated a small hallway and spilled out the front door.
They stood together on the threshold for another moment. Rob tilted his head and strained his ears in an attempt to pick up a sound, but there was
nothing. The stillness sent a shiver up his spine. He hadn’t been a policeman for long, but even with his inexperience he sensed that there was something very wrong.
Harris gave him a nod before taking the lead and walking into the house, guns drawn. The door on the right was closed, and Rob knew in his gut that something awful was waiting behind it. He opened the door and pushed it open, a shaft of light from the hall falling into the dim room. Old Mr McCalister was on the floor, a pool of dark blood had seeped from beneath him and edged its way towards the doorway.
‘Are you all right?’
Rob pulled his eyes away from the sight just in time to see Harris give him a quick glance. Everything inside him wanted to scream No, I’m far from all right, but he pushed it down and nodded back. He was determined to hold it together, no matter what. He was a professional and had a bloody job to do.
‘Yeah, I’m okay.’
‘Good, come on, then,’ Harris said.
Rob followed the older cop further into the room. It didn’t take them long to find Jordy McCalister. He was slumped in an old armchair with a handgun near his feet. His temple was shattered by a bullet hole, and blood dripped down the side of his head. Rob quickly turned away and kept moving in Harris’s wake; they went through the kitchen and towards the back door. They paused only for a second while Harris flicked on the light switch and opened the back door. Immediately it flooded the steps that led down to the back yard in a pool of light. That’s where they found Jordy McCalister’s mother, on the path, face down with a bullet in her back.
Rob wasn’t from Forensics but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she’d been trying to run away. He reckoned he might never get the image out of his head. They doubled back and checked the remainder of the house, but Cath McCalister wasn’t in there.
‘Do you think Cath got away?’ he asked as they went down the back stairs and into the yard.
Harris shrugged as he grabbed his radio. ‘We don’t know what’s happened here, not for sure, anyway. I’m calling this in.’
Rob stood in the front yard and watched a steady stream of headlights bump their way down the dirt road outside the McCalister place. A squad car was already parked behind Rob’s vehicle, but it took a bit longer for everyone else to arrive from Lawson’s Bend and Bendigo.
Within another few minutes the almost silent property was abuzz with action, voices and the bustle of people getting on with trying to work out what exactly had happened. The house was cordoned off, and as the night wore on, the kinetic atmosphere of the place seemed to intensify. Rob kept his vigil by the front gate just in case any curious neighbours showed up. He doubted that would happen now as he glanced at his watch and saw it was approaching four a.m. A cold sensation trickled up his spine and he shivered, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to get the images of the McCalisters out of his head, but he couldn’t seem to shift them. He tried to imagine what Cath went through—knowing something so bad was about to happen she sent her children away, not knowing if they would reach safety. The thought haunted him as he wondered what had happened to her. Rob was tired, maybe that was just from the initial shock, but he reckoned he could do with a hot coffee or perhaps even something stronger.
Headlights travelling from the opposite direction caught his eye. He watched as the vehicle approached; at first he assumed it was a paddy wagon but then he realised it was a large dark blue ute. It pulled over to the other side of the road, and out stepped a tall man wearing jeans and a plaid shirt that by the look of things had been hurriedly buttoned. As the man strode over the dirt road, Rob could see that he was in his early forties.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’ he asked as he started to walk through the gate.
Rob held up his arm. ‘I’m sorry, sir, you can’t go in there. It’s a crime scene and is cordoned off at the moment.’
‘Listen, I’m Sam Tarant—I own the horse stud up the road. The McCalisters are friends of mine. Is everything all right?’ he said as he tried once again to walk through the gate.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t come in,’ Rob said with a shake of his head.
‘Geez,’ Sam Tarant said, his eyes rounding as the realisation began to dawn on him. ‘Oh God, are they all right? I was just talking with Jordy this morning. Are Cath and the kids okay? Tell me!’
‘I’m sorry, sir, but—’
‘Jordy! Cath! Are you okay? Jordy!’ Sam cried out with rising panic in his voice as he tried to push his way past Rob.
Adam Harris sprinted over and gave Rob a quick glance. ‘Come on, Sam, let’s go back to your car,’ he said as he placed his arm around the man’s shoulders and started to guide him back over the road.
‘Adam, what the hell’s going on? I’ve got to get in there.’
Harris shook his head. ‘Nah, you don’t want to go in there.’
The words made Sam’s steps falter and for a moment Harris had to hold him up. ‘You mean …’
‘It’s bad, Sam. I can’t say much, but Cath’s parents have been called and … and, well, at least the kids are okay.’
‘What?’
‘Go home, Sam. There’s nothing you can do here,’ Harris said as he opened the car door and urged him to get back in.
Sam Tarant slid into the driver’s seat with a look of shock on his face as he stared ahead.
‘Hey, are you all right to drive?’
‘Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.’
‘Okay, then. We’ll know more tomorrow.’
Sam gave him a nod before starting up the car and heading back home.
Adam Harris paused as he walked back to Rob. ‘Listen, you’ve had a hell of a night—you can take off if you want. Your shift’s almost over anyway.’
Rob shook his head. ‘Thanks but I think I want to stay for a bit. There’re a couple of teams beginning to search the property for Cath McCalister. I thought I’d lend them a hand.’
‘Okay, but remember to get some rest. I’ll see you tonight,’ Harris said and clasped Rob on the shoulder as he moved past him. ‘You did good, kid.’
Rob went around the back of the house, walking under the old Hills hoist and out towards the paddock beyond the yard. There was a skinny track that ran behind the old wire fence and Rob turned right to see where it would take him. There were flashes from torch lights further into the paddock. As he looked around he saw several groups of police and emergency services workers walking over the paddock, searching. He knew what they were looking for—Cath McCalister. For a moment he wondered if he should join them, but something made him want to follow the little path, so he did. He flicked on his torch and carried on.
The track rose uphill for a little way before dipping back down towards what he took to be a small orchard. There wasn’t anybody else searching near him. He knew it was standard procedure to start near the house and fan out, and that this approach made sense. And, yet, there was something compelling him to keep going.
Time seemed to fly by as he combed every inch of the orchard, to no avail. He leaned against the trunk of a pear tree and took a breath. He was exhausted but there was also a shot of adrenaline that kept firing deep within him and he knew that he had to keep going. The night sky was beginning to lighten with the oncoming dawn. Looking up, he could still make out a scattering of stars.
‘Please let us find her,’ he whispered. ‘Please let her be okay.’
Leaving the orchard, Rob continued down the track, a clear and sweet breeze buffeting him along. With each step the sky brightened and he could easily make out the lake-like dam that appeared before him. It was expansive, with poplar trees skimming along the far side, and a large overgrown island in the middle of the rippling water. As he walked closer he noted a concentration of reeds by the water’s edge that didn’t thin for several hundred metres, and a little further up the bank was a long jetty that jutted out over the water. As the first hint of the rosy dawn began to break over the far-off hills, he paused for a moment and took in the scene. It was so perfec
t it could have been on a postcard. How could there be so much death in such a peaceful and beautiful place?
Rob took a last moment of silence in the cool summer air and then moved on. He had a job to do and he wasn’t going to go home until Cath McCalister was found.
He scoured his way through the thick reeds, looking for any sign that she had come this way. The birds began to sing as the first faint rays of the sun crept into the sky. Being from the city, he couldn’t make out most of the birds except for a magpie that warbled nearby, and the only reason he knew about the magpie was because he’d heard all the horror stories from his co-workers about being swooped.
A movement caught his eye and he looked out across the water to the island. Several herons were stirring from their sleep—he stood transfixed for a moment and watched as they unfurled their wings.
Rob forced himself to keep walking; he followed the curve of the bank and fought his way through the tall reeds as he headed towards the jetty. He imagined Cath taking the same route in panic and desperation. How terrified she must have been. He paused every few minutes to scan the area but everything appeared as it should. He pressed on until he reached the jetty. His footsteps echoed on the rough wood as he walked out to the end of it and stared out across the water in the hope of finding something … anything.
From his vantage point he could see that a group of searchers were beginning to fan out on the other side of the dam. Rob turned around and looked back at the bank, and for a second he thought he caught a glint of light. He hurried back down the jetty and then made a path through the reeds to the water’s edge.
It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. A stone dropped in his stomach as he edged closer, his breath came short and sharp. Hot tears threatened and he squeezed his eyes shut to stop them from falling. He had wanted so much to find her alive. Rob liked to think of himself as a hardened professional, but the truth was that today was his first experience seeing dead bodies like this. Cath McCalister was lying on her side as the water lapped against her—staring unseeing towards the island.
The McCalister Legacy Page 7