by Jane Hinchey
But they’d have told me if that were the case.
“Maybe their phone is damaged?” I said out loud.
“It’s possible,” Remy agreed. “Arrowstrand is remote, with limited resources. There is cell reception, but if a phone tower is out, then yeah, no phone coverage.”
“You’ve contacted the authorities?” Blake asked Remy.
She nodded. “Affirmative. We have lodged a missing person’s report—but they must speak with you, Harper, to confirm.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re next of kin. You spoke to them last; you knew their movements—or proposed movements. They have accepted my report and are keeping an eye out for your parents’ vehicle, see if it turns up anywhere. We’ll call in when we arrive and get an update. And we need to find out if foul play was involved.”
A shiver ran up my spine. There were people out there who would kill for a copper scroll that led to untold riches.
Chapter Two
The rugged, weathered peaks and rocky gorges of the Flinders Ranges created a dramatic and beautiful backdrop and I sat with my eyes glued to the window, taking in the stunning countryside.
Remy played tour guide. “Wilpena Pound, from the air, looks like a massive bowl—or a crater—and spans sixty-two miles wide, but the rim is actually made up of the stumps of huge mountains, believed to be as high as the Himalayas, that have eroded over thousands of years.”
“It is gorgeous,” I said as we approached, the late afternoon sun casting a red shadow over the rocks in front of us as we wound our way toward them. Jenna and Gran were as enthralled as I was.
“You should see it from the air.” Remy grinned. “It’s pretty amazing. If we have time, maybe Blake will take you up.”
“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward and peering out the windscreen at the vista before us.
We’d been in the car for five hours and I was overjoyed at the prospect of finally reaching our destination. Sitting back, I lapsed into silence, watched the breathtaking scenery of trees and rock formations as we made our way through the gorge. Despite the big green trees, the earth was dry and red and the sign that read Ikara Flinders Ranges National Park told me we were 430 miles north of Adelaide. It may as well have been a million miles for it felt like we were in another world altogether.
Remy pointed out the window. “What you see around you? Eight hundred million years old! Mind blowing, huh? And this region has been home to the Adnyamathanha people for tens of thousands of years.”
“Adnyamathanha?” I butchered the word, cringing, but she didn’t take offence.
“The traditional owners of this land. And it's rumored the whole area of the Flinders is a vortex zone.”
I believed it, all right. I could feel the power humming in the air, my body tingling with it.
It was another two hours on the road, leaving the paved roads on the final leg of our journey and bouncing over rocky, barely there dirt tracks through rolling hills and red rocky escarpments before we finally arrived at Arrowstrand.
Remy slowed the Land Rover as we made our way down the main street, what there was of it. To the left a small church, stone cottages, a general store, bakery and café, then a hotel. To the right a post office, more cottages, a house with a police sign hanging out front, and an old stone building with an archway that read “Memorial Hall.”
“This place used to be a mining town,” Remy said, indicating to turn right just before the gas station on the corner. “Back when there was copper in the ground.”
“Mined out?” Blake said, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head as he surveyed the town.
“You got it.” Remy nodded. “Mines are still here, just not operational. The Caravan Park is a few miles down here. You’ll be surprised.”
“Caravan park?” I asked.
“Trailer park,” Remy explained. “Your parents’ trailer is there. This was their base, and they traveled out to the Arrowstrand Caves every day.”
I remembered the photos Mom had sent of the trailer they’d bought when they’d first arrived in Australia almost a year and a half ago. They’d intended to travel around Australia and visit not only sites of archeological interest but tourist destinations as well.
“How do you know that?” Gran piped up. She'd been quiet throughout the trip and I'd been worried she was car sick and likely to puke all over us. Thankfully, that hadn't turned out to be the case.
“I called the park and asked.” Remy shrugged. “When Blake called Seb to ask for our help, the first thing I did was find where they were based.”
“Seb is the Director of the Bureau of Occult Research and Defense,” Blake explained, turning to look at us over his shoulder. “It’s their jet we borrowed to get here.”
Well, that was a shock. I’d thought it was Blake’s jet, or at least his law firm’s. To find out it belonged to the Bureau that I’d never heard of before was surprising. I mean, why would they send a jet to pick us up? It would have had to cost an absolute fortune. The longer I spent with Blake the less I knew about him. After the kiss he’d planted on me back home I’d been expecting… more. Instead, he’d stonewalled me. Every question went unanswered. He’d deftly steer the conversation back to me and it was niggling at me how little I knew about him. And watching him with Remy, clearly she knew him well. They’d greeted each other affectionately, and yet he hadn’t mentioned her at all.
We drove for another ten minutes, turned down a narrow dirt track, winding around rock formations, through dried-out creek beds, over hills that resembled small mountains, but it was well worth the effort, for it was stunning.
Gum trees as far as the eye could see, leaves of green and trunks of white, and then suddenly you’re in a massive clearing, at the far end a cliff with a waterfall cascading down into a waterhole. In the middle of it all a big white house with a wraparound deck. One end had been closed in and a painted sign above the door said “Office.”
I spotted cabins dotted throughout the park, paths with rocks as borders, a large barbecue area sheltered beneath a wooden structure. Big trees dotted around the park, but despite the greenery the earth was dry, red, and dusty.
Someone had outlined a parking area with logs in the dirt and Remy pulled up in a cloud of dust.
“This is beautiful, absolutely stunning.” I breathed, opening the door, only to have Bandit launch over the top of me, eager to explore. Archie followed.
“Here, boy.” Remy snapped her fingers, and he immediately returned to her side, but his whole body was quivering with excitement.
“It sure is,” Blake agreed, climbing out and tilting his head back to look at the sheer wonder of the waterfall. Gran and Jenna joined us, looking around at the huge trees towering overhead, necks craned. Then our attention was drawn to the waterfall, an oasis in the dry, desert like earth.
Gran linked her arm with mine and leaned close to murmur in my ear, “You got any sense of her?” I knew she was referring to Mom without having to ask. Gran had been uncharacteristically silent because she was worried about her only daughter. And who could blame her?
“Not yet,” I whispered, “but I will try to astral walk tonight. I'm hoping now I'm closer I'll be able to connect.” I'd tried in Whitefall Cove and kept coming up blank. I'd been unable to contact Mom or Dad. We'd discussed it with our coven and had surmised that possibly the physical distance between us had been too great and that I should attempt it again once we'd reached their camp.
“I'll go check us in,” Blake said, heading up the stairs to the deck.
“I'm coming with you.” I turned to Jenna who was standing behind me. “Could you keep an eye on this lot, make sure no-one wanders off?” My eyes moved from Gran to Archie and back again. They were both as bad as each other, you had to have eyes in the back of your head to keep track.
“Sure.” Jenna smiled and slid her arm through Gran's left arm while I disentangled myself from her right.
“I think that's Mom and Dad�
�s trailer over there.” I pointed to a big white trailer parked near the rocks. “It looks like the photos they sent me. Did you want to stay in the trailer? Or a cabin?”
“Cabin, please.” Gran was frowning. “Never liked trailers. They move about too much.”
“Okay, let me go organize our accommodation and then we'll get unpacked and see about dinner, okay?”
Gran nodded, and I frowned, worried again about how subdued she was, but then I had to remember that she was eighty years old and I dragged her to the other side of the world. Not that she'd have agreed to stay home, she'd made that abundantly clear.
As if reading my mind, she reached out and seized my hand. “I just need a nap, then food, and I'll be right as rain,” she told me. “I'm looking forward to getting to know some of these Aussie men.” She winked, and I finally felt myself relax. That was more like the Gran I knew and loved.
I followed Blake and Remy into the small office. A bell chimed when we opened the door, alerting the residents of the house they had a customer. A woman in her early forties appeared from the doorway that joined the office to the rest of the house. Dressed in cutoff denim shorts, a faded Doctor Who T-shirt, bare feet and her hair cropped close to her scalp in an orange shade that could only have come out of a box, she looked us up and down.
“Good afternoon.” She smiled, showing slightly yellow, crooked teeth. “Welcome to Arrowstrand Caravan Park.”
“Afternoon.” Remy took the lead, stepping forward and resting her hands on the counter. “I'm Remy Leigh. We spoke on the phone?”
“Ah yes, you're here about the Joneses, right?” Her eyes moved from Remy to Blake, then me.
“That's right. This is Blake Tennant and Harper Jones.”
“You must be the daughter.” She nodded. “Sorry, where are my manners! I'm Andi Webb. My family owns the land where the Arrowstrand Caves are located. It’s been in Colin's—that's my husband—family for generations. Used to be a working sheep station till they went under. Sold off a heap of land but kept the caves and surrounding land, figured we'd turn it into a tourist destination.”
“About my parents...” I prompted. I’d been patient for the last twenty-four hours, but now we were so close, I could feel anticipation crawling across my skin like a thousand ants. I needed to find them, now.
“Of course. Here's what I know, which isn't much. Tamir said he heard their four-wheel drive leave around ten o'clock Thursday night. They haven't returned.” She looked at me, her eyes apologetic. “After Remy called me, I tried their satellite phone and couldn't get an answer. I also tried their radio but got no response.”
“You weren't worried they didn't come back?” Blake asked.
She was shaking her head. “They often camped out at the caves. We're used to their comings and goings. I'm sure there's nothing to be alarmed about. Maybe they've gone deeper into the caves as they explore further. Neither satellite phone nor radio work in the caves.”
“Did they take enough supplies to be gone this long?” It had been five days since they'd last been seen.
“I can't say. But they are experienced campers. They wouldn't have taken unnecessary risks or gone anywhere unprepared. Although it is unusual for them to leave the caravan park that late at night.”
“They'd booked flights back to Whitefall Cove. Family emergency,” Remy said.
Andi frowned. “So if they flew back to America, why are you all here?”
“Because they never made that flight,” Blake said. “This is the last place someone saw them.”
“Oh!” Andi flattened a palm against her chest. “I didn't know. Do the police know?”
Remy was already nodding. “I've informed them. We'll see Officer...” Remy paused, trying to recall the name of the police officer she'd been dealing with.
“That would be Sergeant Mick Gould,” Andi supplied with a smile. “He's Officer in Charge around these parts, oversees the SES and CFS.” At our confused faces she elaborated, “State Emergency Service and Country Fire Service. A town our size doesn't have paid employees for these things, so we rely on volunteers and Mick keeps them all in order. Well, as best he can.” She rubbed her hands together. “So you're staying for a bit?”
“Yes, a few days, possibly longer,” Remy said. “We'll need five cabins.”
“Oh, if you have a spare key to Mom and Dad's trailer, I'll stay in that,” I jumped in. “So only four cabins.”
“Let me look.” Andi heaved a large book onto the counter and opened it, running her finger down the page. “We have a group coming in a few days, but that still leaves enough cabins to spare, so we're good. Tamir and Omar have one each, and Nigel—he's our guide—has one of the on-site vans.”
“If you don't have room, I've got camping gear and can set myself up in a tent if need be,” Remy offered.
“Nah, it's fine.” Andi looked at me. “I have a key to your parents' van. They're paying extra for me to change the linens and towels.” She pulled out a metal box, unlocked it and rummaged around, pulling out a key with a red tag and holding it up. “Here you go, love. All yours. No charge for you since your parents are already paying site hire.”
“Thank you.” I took the key from her and turned it over and over, hoping to get something from it, anything, but all I got was the feel of plastic and metal, no magic residue.
Blake and Remy completed the rest of the bookings, Remy sliding a black credit card across the counter while Andi handed over keys and a hand-held CB radio.
“You’ll have to share,” she said. “We’re on channel 15, we use CTCSS so you won’t get other chatter.”
“CTCSS?” Blake asked.
“Continuous tone coded squelch system.” Andi grinned, seemingly proud that she knew the answer. “Basically it means that a group of radios set with the same tone can use a channel without hearing other radios using that channel. We don’t have an infinite supply of channels. Stay off channel Nineteen, the truckies get cranky if you chitchat there. And five is the emergency channel—for road weather warnings, bush fires, that type of thing.”
“And you said you couldn’t get hold of my parents on their radio?”
“That’s right. But that’s not surprising if they’re in the caves. The radio doesn’t work in there.”
“You mentioned Tamir and Omar,” Blake said, picking up the radio and pocketing his key. “Who are they?”
“Oh, they’re tourists. Been here over a week. Hired Nigel for a couple of days to take them to the caves and show them around. They’re probably there now. My husband, Colin, runs a four-wheel-drive tour business. He’s out most days, takes a lot of folks out from town who don’t want to necessarily stay this far out. We recycle our water, our power is sporadic—although we have backup generators so don’t be alarmed. We run mostly on solar. Mobile phone service drops in and out, which is why we also have a satellite phone, and the radios.”
We thanked Andi and were leaving when Andi came hurrying after me, linens and towels in her arms. “I haven't changed the linens yet. I was due to do them tomorrow, but I can do them now.”
“That's okay, just give them to me. I'll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Andi looked surprised, as if she'd never had a guest offer to make their own beds before.
“Seriously, I don't mind.” I smiled reassuringly and took the linens from her.
“Well... okay. Thank you.” She ran a hand across her cropped hair. “Yell out if you need anything. You must book Nigel if you want him to take you to the caves.”
“We'll let you know,” Blake said with a smile, before holding open the door and letting me and Remy proceed outside in front of him.
At the bottom of the stairs Remy turned. “I'll bring the Land Rover over so we can unpack your gear first. Archie is probably dying for a drink and something to eat.” As if he sensed we were talking about him, Archie trotted across to us, meowing and rubbing around my ankles. With my arms full I couldn't pick him up and was considering how I c
ould juggle the linens and Archie when Blake interceded.
“Here, boy.” He scooped Archie up in his arm and I blinked at him in surprise. “Go unlock the trailer. I'm right behind you.” He nudged me forward.
Right. Squaring my shoulders, I walked across the hard-packed dirt to where the trailer was parked, about a hundred meters from the house. No paved pathways out here. As I approached, I could see they had hidden power lines in the trees sprouting from the rock wall, running along behind the trailer and on to the cabins further down. One other trailer was in residence. It was old and beat up and I assumed it belonged to the guide, Nigel. Judging by the weeds growing around the tires it hadn’t been moved in quite a while.
With my palm suddenly sweaty, I slid the key into the lock and turned. It clicked open, and I pressed the button, opening the door and stepping up and inside. It was as if I’d been transported back in time. A childhood of camping at dig sites flooded my memory at the familiar scents. Sandalwood, leather and old cigars. But what I saw had my heart stuttering in my chest.
Chapter Three
The trailer was a mess. Every cupboard door hung open, clothing was strewn across the bed and floor, the tabletop littered with maps and books. I frowned. This wasn’t like my parents. They were neat and organized. The trunk my dad loved sat on the bed amid the chaos, open. He’d never leave it like that. I approached cautiously and peered inside. It was disorganized, as if he’d rummaged through it in a hurry. I wondered what he’d been searching for that he’d leave one of his most prize possessions like this. And out in the open. Dad usually stowed his chest in the bottom of the wardrobe, away from prying eyes.
The trailer rocked when Blake stepped inside. He closed the door behind him and set Archie down.
“Whoa!” His eyes traveled around taking in the scene. “This place looks trashed.”
Thanks Captain Obvious. I bit my tongue. “Yeah.”
He crossed to the table and looked down at the maps.