by Juanita Kees
When he got home and murdered his headache, he’d go looking for Zac Bannister, rip his head off and shove it up his arse like he’d promised to do for putting him in this vulnerable state.
‘You should go home. There’s not much more you can do.’
If he could nod without his head falling off his shoulders, he would. ‘I know.’
‘I’ll go back with you. An injection might work faster than pills.’
Travis took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. Could it dull the pain and guilt of losing Harry? Another death on his conscience.
‘He’s not dead yet, Travis. Harry’s tougher than you think.’
‘Get out of my head, Doc.’
‘I don’t need to be in there to see what you’re thinking, son.’ Doc took his arm. ‘Let’s go home. These guys will give it another half an hour before they pack it in until tomorrow too. We still have to walk back and we’ve come a fair way today.’
Travis didn’t want to think about how many kilometres they’d covered through the dense bushland and red dirt. It made him all too aware of how far Harry might have wandered. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I was just kinda hoping …’
‘We all were.’
Travis knew he wouldn’t sleep a wink worrying about Harry, unless the painkiller injection came with a double dose of knockout. Was Heather still at home with Casey? God, he hoped so. He had to straighten this out. Tell her what had happened between them was a mistake.
No, not a mistake. The timing just sucked. His focus needed to be on the three people who mattered in his life—Tracy, Harry and Casey.
He followed Doc home along the trail the teams had marked to indicate the areas they’d already searched. Each thud of his boots on the ground made the hammering in his head more intense until he felt like his spine had sharpened to a spear that was gouging a hole in his skull.
Outside on his veranda, the ladies of the CWA ladled soup into bowls and handed out freshly baked bread rolls. Behind them the lights of the homestead were on, not quite bright enough in the fading sunlight yet to be a welcome home. No welcome celebrations tonight. Not without Harry.
He made it up the steps with Doc’s help, exhaustion and pain weighing him down heavily. Low voices reached his ears—one definitely Heather’s beautiful dulcet tones, the other male and unfamiliar.
Apprehension joined all the other emotions controlling his steps. Who the hell was in his house and where was Casey?
‘Easy, kid,’ said Doc as Travis stumbled in his haste to get to the kitchen.
There was Casey, curled up in Heather’s arms, her face buried in Heather’s shoulder. She lifted her head and eyed him warily, the way she did when she’d done something naughty. It wasn’t a look he saw often, so it started an unsettled feeling quivering in his gut. His heart softened and he smiled at her, letting her know that whatever it was, it would be okay. Whatever she’d done couldn’t be worse than Harry going missing.
His heartbeat picked up pace as his gaze fell on Heather’s face. She looked tired, her eyes puffy, her skin pale. And she looked like she’d been crying.
His eyes flicked to the man beside her, wincing as the movement made them feel like they were about to fall out of the sockets.
The city suit looked out of place against the well-loved kitchen table. Shiny black shoes and a black silk tie. Why did DOHW superiors always need to dress like funeral directors?
So Heather’s boss had made it to town in record time, but then again they were only two hours from Perth. He wondered whether it was the Bannisters or the Director General who’d put the wind up his arse.
The man turned a cold, ice-blue gaze his way. Somewhere in his mid-thirties, if he smiled, he’d be a hit with the ladies of all ages in Wongan Creek. This stern, he made Miss Turner look like Aphrodite. He uncrossed his long legs at the ankles and stood, darkly handsome, tall and broad-shouldered.
Travis stamped down on a twinge of jealously that this man had been alone in his kitchen with Heather for God knew how long. Then he reminded himself she wasn’t his. Could never be his.
‘Travis?’ Heather’s voice held a glimmer of hope, one he hated that he couldn’t fulfil.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the gritty addition of sun and windburn to his growing list of injuries. ‘Nothing.’
Heather’s hand fluttered to her mouth. ‘Oh no.’
‘I’m not giving up yet.’ He turned his gaze to the man who looked like he’d stepped right off the pages of some fancy fashion magazine. He’d bet his canola crop those shoes never got as much as a fleck of dust on them. ‘Travis Bailey.’ He held out his hand for a shake.
‘Elliott Crawford, Head of the Department of Health and Welfare.’
The man’s handshake was at least firm and decisive. There was nothing Travis hated more than a half-hearted, limp handshake.
‘This is Doc Benson.’ Travis drew the doctor forward to introduce him.
While the two men shook hands, he walked past them to where Heather sat with Casey on her lap. God, she was beautiful. Even tired and teary, she looked like an angel.
He wanted to gather them both tightly against his chest and hold them there in case they too went missing like Harry. But with Crawford’s cold eyes on them, he couldn’t risk it, so he put his heart in his eyes instead and said, ‘Thanks for looking after Casey for me.’
Heather chewed on her lip. His hands itched to reach out and stroke it. There was nothing he wanted more right now than to spend the night with her wrapped in his arms, knowing both she and Casey were safe. He reached for Casey instead and lifted her gently out of Heather’s arms.
‘Uncle Trav,’ Casey murmured. ‘Did you find him? Is Harry okay?’
The pain, disappointment and frustration of the day seeped into his bones. ‘Not yet, but he will be. We’ll be up early tomorrow to search for him again.’
Her hand came up to cup his face. ‘You’ll find him, Uncle Trav. I know you will.’
He wished he had her faith. ‘Harry’s a tough old goat, sweet pea. He’ll be all right.’ But the words felt as empty as Harry’s house tonight where the lights couldn’t be seen glowing in the distance from Travis’ kitchen window.
Bella bustled in with a tray of soup bowls and a pile of bread buns. ‘You’ll need this, all of you.’ She cast Elliott Crawford a warning look. ‘And you lay off your business at least until Travis has had a chance to eat and clean up. You city folk have no idea how much a search and rescue takes out of a person here in the bush.’
A reluctant grin tugged at the man from DOHW’s lips, and Travis gave him brownie points for that.
‘Well, I hope then that one of those bowls of soup is for me because it smells pretty good.’
Bella almost beamed until she remembered in time that Elliott Crawford was the enemy in town. She looked at Travis. ‘Nothing but the best for these guys.’ She looked back at Crawford, hands firm on the tray. ‘You haven’t asked, but I’ll tell you anyway because out here we’re all family. If you want the truth about how much Travis Bailey loves his family, you come and ask me before you believe any whispers you hear on the grapevine. Got that?’
In the process of lifting the tray from her hands, Crawford said, ‘Got it. I’ve promised Miss Turner the same thing. I wouldn’t dare do otherwise.’
In that moment, Travis wondered if they at least stood a small chance against the Bannisters.
Travis put Casey down onto a chair and put a bowl of soup in front of her. ‘Here we go, sweet pea, eat up.’
He took the seat next to her, opposite Heather. With the table between them, he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her hand and the comfort it offered. With Eagle Eye Elliott watching their every move, he couldn’t afford to slip up. Neither of them could.
They went through the motions of eating, silence hanging heavily in the air as the sombre mood embraced him. Even Casey’s usual cheerful chatter was stilled as she sipped her soup from a spoon with one
hand and clung to his shirt with the other.
He had no appetite for Bella’s delicious minestrone, usually his favourite, but knew the importance of sustenance in a search and rescue, so he ate on auto pilot.
Occasionally, he cast a quick look at Heather from under his lashes and saw she kept her gaze glued to her plate. Just as well because he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching for her if she looked him in the eye.
Wiping his lips on the paper napkin next to his plate, he pushed back his chair and stood. ‘Excuse me, I need to clean up. Casey, stay here with Heather, okay?’ With Harry missing, he didn’t want Casey out of his sight, not for a minute. ‘I’ll read you a bedtime story when I’m done.’
‘Okay, Uncle Trav.’
He gently eased her fingers from the death grip she had on his shirt and gave her hand a reassuring pat. ‘Good girl.’ He ruffled her hair. ‘Finish your soup then.’
With a quick nod to Elliott and Doc, and a glance at Heather’s beautiful face, he left the room.
***
Ten minutes later, showered, fed and medicated, Travis strode back into the kitchen on a waft of shower soap and citrusy scent. Heather inhaled appreciatively. He had more colour in his cheeks now the ashen shade of pain had receded.
‘Hey, Riggs.’ Travis greeted the police sergeant who’d joined them in the kitchen. ‘How did your group go on the east end?’
Riggs shook his head. ‘No luck. We’ve got backup coming in from Collie and Williams to search the foothills tomorrow.’
Travis rubbed a hand over his face. He looked so drained. Heather ached to put her arms around him and hug him tightly, reassure him Harry would be found alive and well, but even she knew that the longer he was out there, the less of a chance of survival he had.
He turned to her. ‘Thanks for tucking Casey in. I popped in to say goodnight and she was almost asleep.’
‘You’re welcome. She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. We read one of her favourite stories together while she waited for you to come in and say goodnight.’
His tired smile tugged at her heart. ‘Billy Bailey goes Walkabout. She brings that one out every time someone goes missing in the outback. She swears Billy is a real descendant of ours because he has such great survival skills.’
Heather stepped forward and gave his arm a quick rub of sympathy, the closest she could get to being personal with her boss watching on, but wanting to do so much more.
‘Travis, we need to talk about Casey.’ She kept her gaze on his, willing him to understand. ‘I know the timing isn’t great, but this whole thing with Harry has raised a memory for Casey we’re not sure you’re aware of.’
A frown creased his brow and dread gripped her stomach at the thought of what they had to reveal. She was glad the police sergeant was there.
She’d had to tell Elliott what the little girl had said she’d seen, but she’d hesitated to tell him what Travis had told her. That was a story for him to tell, but what Elliott would confront him with now would be hard to hear. Surely with Casey’s confession and Travis’ suspicions there would be enough reason to reopen the cold case on Tracy and stop Zac Bannister in his tracks forever.
‘In light of what has happened with Zac Bannister over the last few days, I think it might be wise if Sergeant Riggs hears this too.’
She prayed he could read the pleading in her eyes, the message that it would be okay despite the horrors Casey’s confession would uncover.
He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. What she would give to see those crinkles at the corner of his eyes the result of laughter instead of concern, to be able to hold him as the events leading up to Tracy’s disappearance unfolded and to stroke that frown away from between his eyes.
The laughing light she normally saw in his green eyes was out and in its place a dark sadness she wished she could change.
With a gentle nudge, she pushed him towards a chair. ‘Sit before you fall down.’
‘Takes a lot to topple a Bailey.’
He attempted a grin but it formed a grimace. Heather knew him too well, she realised, as she acknowledged his tired attempt at humour with a soft smile of her own.
Elliott Crawford’s voice pierced the warm glow in her heart and Heather felt the slice of his words. ‘Don’t let me interrupt the moment here, but I believe it’s been a long day for all of us and I’d like to get this out of the way.’
Blushing, Heather moved away, sat and pushed her case folder over in front of Elliott. ‘As you know from this morning, I’ve been removed from the case due to a report from the Bannisters which suggests a conflict of interest.’ For Riggs’ benefit, she added, ‘I stayed the night to take care of Casey and Travis after the fight yesterday and it’s been suggested that Travis and I are in a relationship.’
Riggs snorted but made no comment.
Heather dragged her gaze back to Travis’ face. ‘So, Elliott will be handling your case from now on.’
She didn’t add that Elliott had filed a transfer for her out of Wongan Creek, a move that would see her sent back to Perth and moved into the aged care sector. He’d thought it best after hearing Heather’s side of the story about the incident on the mine site with Zac.
Even though her heart was breaking at the thought of leaving Travis and Wongan Creek, she knew she had to do what was best for all of them. Already she was in way too deep.
Travis eased his chair back, stretched his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest. His actions reminded her of a graceful stallion, every move carefully executed and deliberately controlled. She could see the muscles in his shoulders tense and his jaw set stubbornly against what was to come.
‘Travis,’ Elliott began, flicking open the cover of the manila folder neatly labelled in Heather’s handwriting. ‘Has Casey ever spoken to you about what happened the day her mother went missing?’
Travis shook his head. ‘She was barely four years old when it happened. All she could say at the time was that her mummy was gone. We didn’t think she understood the reality.’
‘When you arrived home that day, where was Casey?’
Travis frowned. ‘I drove back from Newman as soon as I knew Tracy was missing so I arrived here two days after they found her. Mum told me they found Casey hiding under their bed.’
‘Did you find that unusual?’
Travis drew in his long legs and sat up straight in the chair. ‘Not really. We figured she was scared being left alone in the house and that was the place she felt safest. What was unusual was that Tracy had left her alone here to go down to the creek. Tracy never left her unsupervised. She’d never do that. Even now, I make sure there’s always someone to stay with her if I can’t.’
The defensiveness in his tone raked at Heather’s heart. How unfair it was that he felt he needed to justify his and Tracy’s actions when there was a man on the loose with murderous intent on his mind.
‘Did you tell that to the police?’ Elliott frowned and scribbled a note inside the folder.
‘Yes. The investigating officer didn’t think it was important. We still don’t know why she did that day. Tracy would never have gone down to that creek alone. She seldom left the house unless I was with her.’ Travis raked a hand through his hair, tiredness dragging at his shoulders.
Elliott put down his pen, leaned forward on the chair and laced his fingers together on the scarred wooden table. ‘Casey told Heather she saw a man take her mother away. Were you aware of that?’
Travis paled under the sun and windburn of the day. ‘No.’
The word came out on a choke and Heather wanted to hold him against the pain she heard there. She watched the horror etch his bruised and battered features, adding to the hurt he already carried as Elliott relayed what Casey had told them.
He dragged both hands through his hair, his shoulders hunched against Elliott’s words. Heather felt the tears sting her eyes again. She’d lost count of how many times she’d cried for him today.
Riggs slap
ped his hands against the table, making Heather jump. He pushed his chair back and stood. Walking around to Travis, he squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’ll look into this, son. That’s a promise.’
Travis didn’t appear to have enough energy to do more than nod. With another quick tap on the back, Riggs left.
Elliott closed the manila folder. ‘I’ll work closely with Sergeant Riggs on this, Travis. If what Casey has told us proves to be true, you have a strong case for retaining custody. Until we have more information and decide on the best way to proceed, I’m leaving her in your care.’
Travis nodded again, his hands clutched so tightly between his knees that his knuckles bloomed white. Heather ached to hold him close.
Her boss pushed back his chair and stood. ‘I’ll make my way back to the hotel now and be back tomorrow. Heather, we’ll talk about your transfer in the morning. I know you’re officially off the case, but I think Travis here might need your help with Casey until Harry is found. You have my permission to stay and assist in your former capacity as their case worker.’ He looked over at Travis. ‘Unless you want to make other arrangements, Travis?’
Travis shook his head, his eyes firmly on the track shoes he’d pulled on earlier. His voice was quiet and sad in the room. ‘If Heather’s okay with that, so am I.’
She sensed his withdrawal, felt the walls go up around him and hated that what they had was over before it had a chance to blossom. ‘I’ll see you out, Elliott.’
‘Thanks. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.’ He opened the kitchen door and stepped out onto the veranda.
As Heather followed, she stopped to look back and saw Travis’ shoulders tremble. The strong, beautiful country boy she’d fallen in love with was now a broken man.
Chapter 17
Travis spent the night in a chair next to Casey’s bed, keeping watch over the little girl as she slept. He knew he should get some sleep, be rested for the long day ahead. Another day of searching for Harry as around him his world crumbled.
He heard Heather moving around in the room next door. Tracy’s room. Knew she was just as restless as he was. He tried to process Elliott’s words about a transfer but his mind was clogged with what Casey had seen.