by Anna Willett
“What?”
Damon spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “How often did you check on Clem?” Wheeler’s mouth opened then closed. “Every half-hour? Every hour?”
Wheeler frowned. “Oh, yes, I see what you mean,” he said.
Lucy had the distinct impression he was acting, pretending to be trying to remember something that never happened. The jab of disgust she felt moments ago turned into a wave of dislike.
“Usually, I stick my head round the door every hour or so.” He nodded as if pleased with the sound of what he was saying. “But…” He drew the word out. “That day I got caught up on some phone calls and probably didn’t check on him as often as usual.”
“So what time did you notice he was missing?” Damon’s tone was flat and difficult to read but, judging by the wounded look on his face, Wheeler felt attacked.
“It was about 2:30 p.m. I went into the kitchen to make something to eat. I called Clem to come out of his room, but he didn’t answer.”
There was a faraway look on the man’s face, like he was seeing something play out in his mind. Lucy wondered if he was recounting events as they happened or as he wanted to present them. She began writing the salient points of his story. “When I checked his room, it was empty.”
“Is that when you went looking for him?” Damon’s eyes were fixed on Wheeler. He appeared to be watching the man more closely.
Wheeler let out a breath, long and deep. “No, I thought he was probably in the bathroom, so I started making sandwiches. It was only when I’d finished that I realised I hadn’t heard the toilet flush. I called him again but he didn’t answer.” He lowered his head and ran a finger over his upper lip. “I checked the bathroom and his bedroom again and then all the other rooms. That’s when I went outside.” He glanced over at Lucy, so she nodded her encouragement. “I was sure he’d be out there playing, but…” Wheeler hesitated, maybe remembering the moment. “I couldn’t find him. The side gate was open, so I checked the front yard. I remember thinking I must have missed him somewhere in the house, so I went back inside and checked everywhere.” He let his hand drop back onto the arm of the chair. “He was just gone.”
“Just gone?” Damon repeated the words, but on his lips it sounded like a question.
Lucy noticed Wheeler’s jaw tighten. “Yeah, gone. I’ve told the police this and my solicitor. It doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I can’t change what happened.”
Ignoring Wheeler’s last words, Damon persisted with the questions. “So what time did you last see Clem?”
When Robert answered there was a defiant note in his voice. “Around ten o’clock.”
Calculating the time in her head, Lucy realised Wheeler hadn’t bothered to check on the boy for four-and-a-half hours. It took all her self-control not to look at Damon. Instead, she jotted down the times.
“Do you have any children of your own?” It was the first time she’d spoken since Damon took over the questioning and it was the first time anyone had mentioned Clem being Wheeler’s stepson.
Wheeler looked confused, as though he was having trouble keeping up with the change in direction. Lucy guessed he was used to being the one in control and used what he thought was charm to turn everything his way. “No… Not my own, but Clem is like my son. I’ve been with his mother since he was one.”
“Still,” Lucy persisted. “It must be difficult raising someone else’s son.” She looked down at her notes. “You mentioned having to be the one to make Clem behave. How did your wife react to you wanting to be the disciplinarian?”
“That’s not what I said.” Wheeler’s voice almost squeaked with outrage. “You people are supposed to be working for me, not trying to trip me up.” He jerked forward, his butt on the edge of the chair. “What the fuck is this?”
“Calm down, Rob.” Damon’s voice was like a slap, sudden and sharp.
Wheeler dragged his gaze off Lucy and back onto Damon. “I’m calm,” he said.
She could see the man blinking, trying to get his emotions under control.
“It’s just I’m sick of being treated like a criminal when I’ve done nothing wrong.” He spread his hands wide. “I’m trying to answer your questions, but… but… I’ve done nothing wrong.”
As he spoke, Lucy heard a noise in another part of the house. A rattle of crockery. “Can I use your bathroom?”
Wheeler gave her a surprised look. His mouth opened then closed with an audible pop. “Yeah, down the hall.” He jerked his chin towards the open doorway.
She found Sadie Wheeler crouched beside a crate of empty jars and tubs. The woman’s blonde hair hung over her face like a lank veil. Before Lucy could speak, Sadie’s head bobbed up. For a second, her red-rimmed eyes were bright, almost excited. Taking in Lucy’s presence, the look faded first into disappointment and then into blankness.
“Mrs Wheeler?” Lucy took a step into the kitchen.
The woman’s head dipped and she returned to the crate, lifting out jars and setting them one by one on the kitchen floor.
“My name’s Lucy. I’m here with my associate from Granger Investigations.”
“What do you want?” Her voice was thin.
“I want to talk to you about Clem.” When Lucy mentioned the little boy’s name, the woman’s hands stopped their frantic search through the crate. “Do you feel up to talking for a few minutes?”
Rather than standing, Sadie sat back, letting her butt land on the wooden floor.
“Something’s missing.” She nodded towards the crate. “I’ve been over these jars.” Her hand touched the edge of the container. “I’ve checked because I had to be sure.”
When she looked up, Lucy noticed the dark smudges under the woman’s blue eyes and the way her hair clung to the sides of her face. A face that was pretty despite the pallor and nest of lines crowding her brows.
Lucy bobbed down beside the woman. “Is it all right if I call you Sadie?” She had the sudden urge to take the woman’s hand and tell her she was there to help. Instead, Lucy sat on the floor.
“Yes, if you like.” Sadie tapped a slender finger on each jar in a counting gesture. There was something frantic in the way her finger jumped between the plastic pots.
“Sadie,” Lucy tried again. “Tell me about Clem.”
It was the same question she’d asked Robert, but Sadie’s reaction was different. The counting ceased and when Sadie met Lucy’s gaze there were unshed tears glistening on her lower lids.
“Clem.” Sadie whispered her son’s name as though savouring the feel of it on her lips. “He’s… He’s a sweet and thoughtful boy. An old soul in a little body.” Sadie smiled, her expression more of sadness than pleasure. “Funny and… and…” A single tear tipped over the lower lid of her right eye and raced over her pale cheek. She looked frozen in grief and this time Lucy didn’t hesitate.
She took the woman’s hand, noticing the coolness of her skin. “I want to help find your son.”
Sadie gripped Lucy’s hand with strength that belied her small frame. “I just want him back. My… My heart hurts.” She was crying now, the tears running over her skin unchecked. “He’s my life. Do you understand?”
She squeezed Lucy’s hand, her eyes wide and anxious. “I think so.” Tears were biting at Lucy’s eyes and the effort of holding them back made her throat prickle. The next question was the hardest, the one Lucy dreaded but had to ask. “Do you think your husband did something to him?”
If Sadie was surprised by the question, she gave no indication. Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment as though composing herself.
“No, I know Rob had nothing to do with it.” Her voice was stronger now. “But the police have made up their minds, which means they’re not really looking for Clem.”
Uncertainty must have shown on Lucy’s face, because Sadie continued. “I’m not an idiot. I know Rob’s to blame in this. He wasn’t watching Clem.” She let go of Lucy’s hand. “Not properly.”
She pressed her palm to her chest. Lucy noticed Sadie had missed a button on her shirt. It was a small detail, but one that made Lucy want to weep. Weep for the little boy and for his mother who was struggling to complete even the most mundane task like buttoning her shirt.
When Sadie spoke again, her voice was bitter.
“It’s my fault this has happened. The week before Clem went missing Rob lost him at the town fête. It was only for ten minutes or so, but that should have been enough. I should have learned my lesson.”
She sucked in a shaky breath.
“I knew Rob wasn’t interested in being a father, but I still left Clem with him and went to work.”
She swiped at her nose with her forearm.
“I don’t even like my job that much. But we needed the money and…” Her bottom lip quivered. “I liked being more than just a wife and mother.”
She huffed out a wounded laugh.
“Pathetic. Pathetic and selfish.”
“Sadie, there’s nothing selfish or pathetic about wanting to provide for your family.”
The words seemed hollow and small in the face of Sadie’s pain, and as much as Lucy wanted to convince the woman she wasn’t to blame for what happened or for wanting a career, her focus had to stay on finding Clem. To do this she needed to shift directions.
“Rob said Clem likes dragonflies. Do you think he might have wandered into the forest looking for one?”
The question worked in that it got Sadie’s attention. She gave a long sigh.
“Clem liked grasshoppers, not dragonflies. Trust Rob to get it wrong.” There was anger in her voice; it struggled with the woman’s fatigue.
Lucy wondered how long it had been since Sadie slept. She thought of asking her, but pushed down her concern in favour of seeking more information.
“Could Clem have gone into the forest looking for grasshoppers and, you know, got turned around and maybe walked in the wrong direction?” Lucy asked.
Sadie shook her head. Her lank blonde hair flapped at her cheeks.
“He wouldn’t go into the forest.” She wrinkled her brow. “It’s funny. Clem had it in his head that a monster lives in the forest. I asked him why he thought something like that, but he wouldn’t say.”
Sadie fixed her stare on Lucy.
“It’s not like him to be secretive, not my little Hopper.”
She made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a chuckle.
“That’s what I call him sometimes, because he loves grasshoppers.” She shook her head. “He wouldn’t tell me what scared him.”
She pointed at the jars that were lined up on the floor next to the crate.
“There are three peanut butter jars. Clem loves peanut butter on his toast.”
Lucy’s was only half listening, her mind on the idea that something in the forest scared Clem enough for him to believe a monster might be lurking between the trees. It wasn’t much, but any new information was important.
“That’s how I know he went outside.”
It took Lucy a second to realise Sadie was still talking. “Sorry?” Lucy scrambled to keep up with what the woman was telling her. “You mean Clem?”
Sadie picked up a jar. “I told Clem we’d put holes in the lid and catch a grasshopper.” The container shook in her hand. “I said we’d do it when I had time, but…” Her blue eyes were fixed on the empty jar. “There were four jars. Now there are only three.”
Lucy joined Sadie in staring at the containers. “You think he took one and went outside?”
Chapter Four
The sky darkened and a chaotic shrieking filled the air. Exiting the Wheelers’ house, Lucy resisted the urge to cover her ears as she tilted her head and squinted up at the flurry of wings. Above, a pandemonium of parrots filled the sky.
“Noisy bastards.” Damon grimaced and opened the car door.
Lucy hesitated before climbing into the driver’s seat, trying to remember what it was she’d heard about the raucous birds. “A storm’s coming.” She slid behind the wheel. “That’s what they say about black cockatoos, isn’t it?”
Damon craned his neck, watching as the birds swarmed the nearby trees. “That’s what they say. But…” He turned to face her. “I find it difficult to believe everywhere they go a storm follows. It’s too predictable.”
Lucy started the car but didn’t pull away from the Wheelers’ house.
“Based on what Robert Wheeler told us, Clem exited through that gate there.” She pointed to a waist-high wooden gate on the right of the house. The area was fronted by a patch of long grass and dandelions. “And then he vanished.”
For a moment they both stared at the small gate hanging loosely on its hinges, the flaking blue paint giving the side exit a forgotten feel. In her mind’s eye, Lucy could almost see the little boy bouncing through the gate, blonde head turned towards the dandelions.
She pulled herself out of her reverie and continued. “Just above the gate is Clem’s bedroom window, so he would have been able to see the front yard and the forest.”
She turned her attention back to Damon.
“What’s your gut telling you about Wheeler?”
“He’s smarmy, a narcissist, but a killer?” Damon rubbed his hand over his chin. “I hoped I’d be able to tell, but it was never going to be that clear cut.” He leaned back in the seat. “What’s your feeling on this?”
Lucy surveyed the quiet lane before answering. It was a question that carried unfathomable weight – the weight of a child’s life if they made the wrong decision and turned their backs on Clem Scott.
She leaned across the console and touched Damon’s face with the back of her hand, wanting to smooth away the worry that darkened his eyes.
“I think we need to find out what happened to Clem.”
Damon took her hand and pressed her palm to his lips.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said.
Their relationship was new in many ways. They’d been together for only fourteen months and living together for less than a year. Being with someone in this way wasn’t something Lucy had ever experienced before and somehow it felt effortless and desperate at the same time. Damon was fun to be with, easy to talk to and endlessly kind. She’d been infatuated with him to begin with and now loved him to the point of desperation. Maybe it was because she’d lost her parents so young and knew how easily loved ones could be snatched away. Whatever the reason, Lucy felt she was always holding herself together, always bracing for pain, being happy and afraid at the same time.
Damon let go of her hand and fastened his seat belt. “I’ll talk to Larson when we get home, but we should stop somewhere on the way back and get some lunch. It’ll give us a chance to come up with some ideas on where to start.”
“Okay.” Lucy pulled away from the curb. “But first I want to see where that road goes.”
* * *
The sideroad at the end of the lane cut right at a sharp angle and tapered into a narrow slip of road that ran around the edge of the forest. As Lucy slowed the Saab, she noticed there were no houses on this stretch, just the trees on one side and a grassy embankment on the other. Somewhere farther back from the water catchment area was another road only visible in glimpses through the scrubby bush. In the first few days following Clem’s disappearance, the police would have gone over every inch of the area searching for the boy. Even so, Lucy wanted to see for herself the ease at which someone could enter and leave the lane.
“Very private.” Damon nodded to the thicket of trees. “Not much hope of a witness seeing a car leaving the Wheelers’.”
“It’s strange.”
Lucy eyed the towering karri and jarrah trees as they crowded the road.
“I love living in the bush, but this place is something else. It gives me the creeps.” She rolled her shoulders. “Did I tell you Clem thought there was a monster living in the forest?”
“Maybe he was right.”
Damon’s words took her by surpri
se. So much so she almost drove past the dirt track that gouged its way into the forest. Slowing down, then putting the car in reverse, she rolled to a stop at the mouth of a trail.
“I wonder where that goes.” The thought was as much for her as it was for Damon.
“Probably a fire road.” Damon opened the car door. “I’ll take a look.”
Lucy watched as Damon stepped onto the track and walked ten metres or so into the forest. At first, she could still make out his shape, but within seconds he was swallowed by shadows that were cast by rays of light that filtered through the forest. Sadie’s words kept going around in her head, Clem had it in his head that a monster lives in the forest. Lucy had met real life monsters, people that passed themselves off as normal, harmless even. But underneath they were evil creatures that preyed on the weak.
Watching the dirt trail and the way the foliage blocked out the light, she had the urge to jump out of the car and run after Damon. Gritting her teeth, she held onto the door, willing him to appear. And then as suddenly as he’d vanished Damon walked back into the light.
It had been almost three weeks since her last cigarette, but in those seconds when Damon had been in the shadows, the desire for a smoke rushed out of some hidden corner of Lucy’s brain and snapped at her nerves like an angry dog.
Damon swung open the door and folded his large frame into the Saab as a burst of cool air filled the car.
“I don’t know how far it goes, but I’d say it is a fire road.” He seemed about to say more, but stopped. “Are you okay?”
Realising she was still gripping the door, Lucy forced herself to relax.
“Yes,” she said. She tried to force out a laugh, but only succeeded in making a whistling noise with her nose. “Nicotine craving.”
She grimaced, telling herself it was close enough to the truth to not count as a lie.
Damon nodded. “I’ll check Google maps when we stop for lunch.” He jerked his thumb at the track. “We can see if it goes anywhere interesting.”
Chapter Five
Clem pulled his legs up until his knees touched his chin. Without his car seat, his bottom bumped off the slippery surface and his tummy rolled over. The peanut butter jar bounced, but he managed to keep his fingers around the container by gripping the rough sides of the lid.