Force of Nature

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Force of Nature Page 18

by Jane Harper


  ‘Sounds like she’ll be glad to be back anyway,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah.’ Carmen glanced around at the back seat. ‘I know I would be after all that.’

  ‘Have you ever had to go on one of these teambuilding things?’

  ‘No, thank God. You?’

  Falk shook his head. ‘I guess it’s more a private sector thing.’

  ‘Jamie’s been on a couple.’

  ‘With the sports drinks company?’

  ‘It’s a fully integrated lifestyle brand, thanks very much.’ Carmen was smiling. ‘But, yes, they’re really into that kind of thing.’

  ‘Has he done anything like this?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It’s mostly bonding through adventure sports. Although once he and a group had to tile a bathroom in a disused warehouse.’

  ‘Really?’ Falk laughed. ‘Did they know much about tiling?’

  ‘I don’t think so. And they were pretty sure the next day’s group was going to be told to tear it down. So it went about as well as you’d imagine. To this day, he still doesn’t speak to one of the other blokes.’

  Falk smiled. Kept his eyes on the road. ‘You all set for the wedding?’

  ‘Pretty much. It’s come around fast though. Still, we’ve got a celebrant, and Jamie knows where and when to show up, so we’ll get there.’ She looked over. ‘Hey, you should come.’

  ‘What? No. I wasn’t fishing.’ He really hadn’t been. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a wedding.

  ‘I know. But you should. It’ll be good. It’ll be good for you, anyway. I’ve got a few single friends.’

  ‘It’s in Sydney.’

  ‘It’s an hour’s plane ride.’

  ‘And it’s in three weeks. Isn’t it a bit late for seating plans and all that?’

  ‘You’ve met my fiancé. I literally had to put “no denim” on the invitations for his side of the family. Does that sound like the kind of event with a concrete seating plan?’ She stifled a yawn. ‘Anyway, I’ll give you the details. Think about it.’

  There was movement in the back seat and Falk looked in the mirror. Lauren had woken and was looking around with the wide-eyed surprise of someone who had forgotten where they were. She seemed bewildered by the passing traffic. Falk didn’t blame her. After only a few days in the bushland, he felt a little bewildered himself. He and Carmen swapped seats, and they each sat lost in their own thoughts as the city grew nearer, the radio playing in the background. The news came on at the top of the hour. Falk turned up the volume, then immediately regretted it.

  It was the lead story. Police were investigating a potential link between the notorious Martin Kovac and a cabin where missing Melbourne hiker Alice Russell was last seen, the newsreader informed them.

  Falk wasn’t surprised that detail had been leaked. With the number of searchers involved, it had only been a matter of time. He twisted around and Lauren met his eyes. She looked scared.

  ‘Do you want me to switch it off?’

  She shook her head and they listened as the newsreader recapped details that had hit the airwaves two decades earlier. Three female victims, with a fourth never recovered. Then Sergeant King’s voice filled the car, stressing the historic nature of the Kovac crimes. An assurance that full efforts were being made, a fresh plea for information from anyone who had been in the area and, at last, the bulletin moved on.

  Falk glanced over at Carmen. There had been no mention of Kovac’s son. It looked like King had managed to keep that quiet so far.

  Lauren directed them to a home in one of the leafier suburbs, the kind that estate agents liked to call aspirational. Carmen pulled up outside a house that was obviously cared for, but carried the faint whiff of recent neglect. The patch of lawn at the front was overgrown and no-one had bothered removing a scribble of graffiti on the fence.

  ‘Thank you again.’ Lauren unbuckled her seatbelt, relief visible on her face. ‘Someone will let me know straight away if there’s any news, won’t they? About Alice?’

  ‘Of course,’ Falk said. ‘I hope everything’s okay with your daughter.’

  ‘Me too.’ Her expression hardened. She didn’t sound at all sure. They watched as Lauren took her bag and disappeared into the house.

  Carmen turned to Falk. ‘So, what now? Should we warn Daniel Bailey we’re on our way, or surprise him?’

  Falk considered. ‘Let’s warn him. He’ll want to be seen helping the search effort and it’ll keep him on side.’

  Carmen pulled out her phone and put in a call to BaileyTennants. She was frowning by the time she hung up. ‘He’s not in the office.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘His secretary was insistent. He’s on leave for a few days, apparently. Personal reasons.’

  ‘While an employee’s missing?’

  ‘I suppose Jill did say he’d come back for a family issue.’

  ‘I know, I just didn’t believe her,’ Falk said. ‘We could try his house?’

  Carmen started the engine then paused with a thoughtful look on her face. ‘You know, it’s not too far to Alice’s place from here. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a helpful neighbour with a spare key.’

  He looked over. ‘And crisp copies of the documents we need printed out and left on Alice’s kitchen counter?’

  ‘That would be ideal, yes.’

  Get the contracts. Get the contracts. Falk’s smile faded. ‘All right. Let’s see what we can see.’

  Twenty minutes later, Carmen rounded a corner into a leafy street and slowed the car. They had never visited Alice Russell at home and Falk looked around with interest. The neighbourhood was a picture of expensive serenity. The pavement and fences were spotless and the very few vehicles parked on the road gleamed in the light. Falk guessed most were safely tucked away under protective covers in locked garages. The neat trees lining the nature strip looked like plastic models compared with the primal lushness that had lurked over them for the past three days.

  Carmen crawled along, squinting at the shining letterboxes. ‘Christ, why don’t these people put clear numbers on their houses?’

  ‘I don’t know. Keep the riff-raff away?’ A movement up ahead caught Falk’s eye. ‘Hey. Look.’

  He pointed to a large cream-coloured home at the far end of the road. Carmen followed his gaze and her eyes widened in surprise as a figure strode out of the driveway, head down. A flick of the wrist and the black BMW parked on the road gave a subtle beep as it unlocked. Daniel Bailey.

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Carmen said. He was wearing jeans and an untucked shirt, and he ran a harried hand through his dark hair as he opened the driver’s door. He climbed in and fired up the engine, pulling away from the kerb. The BMW had turned a corner out of sight by the time they reached the house. Carmen followed far enough to see it swallowed up and swept away along a main artery.

  ‘I don’t feel comfortable chasing,’ she said, and Falk shook his head.

  ‘No, don’t. I don’t know what he was doing but it doesn’t look like he was running.’

  Carmen did a U-turn and stopped outside the cream-coloured home. ‘I guess we found Alice’s house, anyway.’

  She turned off the engine and they climbed out. Falk noticed that the city air now seemed to have a fine film on it that gently coated his lungs with each breath. He stood on the pavement, the concrete oddly hard underneath his hiking boots, and surveyed the two-storey home. The lawn was large and neatly mowed, and the front door shone in a glossy shade of navy. A thick mat at its foot declared visitors welcome.

  Falk could smell the decay of winter roses in the air and hear the distant rush of traffic. And on the second floor of Alice Russell’s home, through a streak-free window overlooking the road, he could see a five-pointed white star of fingertips pressed against the windowpane, a flash of blonde hair and the open-mouthed c
ircle of a face looking out.

  Day 3: Saturday Afternoon

  ‘There’s something back here.’

  Beth’s voice was muffled. A moment later, there was a rustle and a crack and she re-emerged, forcing her way through the shrubbery growing high and wild on either side of the track.

  ‘That way. There’s a shelter.’

  Jill looked in the direction Beth was pointing, but the bushland was thick and complete. She could see nothing but trees.

  ‘What kind of shelter?’ Jill craned her neck and took a step forward, her raw left heel screaming in protest.

  ‘A little hut or something. Come and see.’

  Beth was gone again. All around, the tap of rain was growing more insistent. Without warning Bree stepped into the long grass and disappeared after her twin.

  ‘Wait –’ Jill started, but it was too late. They were out of sight. She turned to Alice and Lauren. ‘Come on. I don’t want us getting separated.’

  Jill stepped off the trail and into the bushland before anyone could argue. Branches clawed at her clothes and she had to lift her feet high. She could make out splashes of colour as the twins’ jackets bobbed in and out of view. Finally, they stopped moving. Jill caught up, breathing heavily.

  The cabin lay small and squat in a tiny clearing, its hard lines at odds with the twisted curves of the bushland. Two vacant black windows gaped out of rotting wooden frames, and the door sagged open on its hinges. Jill looked up. The walls might be bowed, but it appeared to have a roof.

  Beth walked up to the cabin and put her face to the window, the back of her head slick and shining with rain.

  ‘It’s empty,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’m going inside.’

  She pulled open the sagging door and was swallowed up by the black interior. Before Jill could say anything, Bree had followed her sister inside.

  Jill was alone, her own breath loud in her ears. Suddenly Beth’s face appeared in a window.

  ‘It’s dry in here,’ she called. ‘Come and see.’

  Jill tramped through the long grass towards the cabin. At the door, she felt a prickle of unease. She had the sharp urge to turn and walk away, but there was nowhere else to walk to. Bushland and more bushland. She took a breath and stepped inside.

  The interior was dim and it took Jill’s eyes a minute to adjust. She could hear a tinny rattle overhead. The roof was doing its job, at least. She took another step in, feeling the floorboards creak and sag under her feet. Lauren appeared in the doorway, shaking the rain from her jacket. Alice hovered behind, watching and saying nothing.

  Jill surveyed the room. It was oddly shaped and bare except for a rickety table shoved against one wall. Spider webs hung thick and white in the corners and something had built a nest of twigs and leaves in a small hole in the floorboards. A single metal cup sat alone on the table. She picked it up experimentally, noticing the perfect ring it left in the dust and dirt.

  Some cheap plywood boards had been nailed together at some point to create the sense of a second room. The twins were already in there, staring silently at something. Jill followed them and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  A mattress was propped against one wall. Its fabric was speckled green with mould, except in the very centre. There, the floral pattern was entirely obscured by a large dark smear. It was impossible to tell what colour the mark had originally been.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Alice said from behind Jill, making her jump. She was staring past her at the mattress. ‘We should keep moving.’

  The twins turned, their faces hard to read. Jill could see that they were shivering, and realised she was as well. Once she noticed, she couldn’t stop.

  ‘Hang on.’ Beth wrapped her arms around herself. ‘We should at least think about this. It’s dry in here, and a bit warmer. And it’s got to be safer than wandering around out there all night.’

  ‘Has it?’ Alice looked pointedly at the mattress.

  ‘Of course. People die of exposure, Alice,’ Beth snapped. ‘We’ve got no tents, no food. We need shelter. Don’t write off this place because it was me who found it.’

  ‘I’m writing it off because it’s horrible.’

  They both turned to Jill, who felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her.

  ‘Jill, come on,’ Alice said. ‘We don’t know anything about this place. Anyone could be using it as a base, we have no idea who knows about it –’

  Jill felt the dust between her fingertips.

  ‘It doesn’t seem well used,’ she said. She deliberately avoided looking at the mattress.

  ‘But no-one knows we’re here,’ Alice said. ‘We need to get back –’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Find the road! Walk north, like we agreed. We can’t stay here indefinitely.’

  ‘It’s not indefinitely. Just until –’

  ‘Until when? It could be weeks before we’d be found here. We have to at least try to get back.’

  Jill’s shoulders stung where her pack had rubbed two angry stripes, and every layer of clothing on her body was damp. Her heel was crippling. She listened to the rattle of rain against the roof, and knew she simply could not bear to step out into it again. ‘Beth’s right. We should stay.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Alice was agape.

  Beth didn’t attempt to hide the triumph on her face. ‘You heard her.’

  ‘No-one is bloody asking you.’ Alice turned to Lauren. ‘Back me up. You know we can walk out from here.’

  Lauren touched her forehead. The dirty plaster was coming unstuck again. ‘I think we should stay too. At least for tonight.’

  Alice turned wordlessly to Bree, who hesitated, then nodded, her eyes firmly cast down.

  Alice gave a small noise of disbelief.

  ‘Christ.’ She shook her head. ‘All right, I’ll stay.’

  ‘Good.’ Jill dropped her pack.

  ‘But only until the rain stops. Then I’m walking out.’

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Despite the cold, Jill felt a hot surge of anger flare from her aching shoulders to her raw heel. ‘Why do you have to be so difficult? We’ve already been through this. No-one is going off alone. You’ll stay until we agree to leave, Alice. As a group.’

  Alice glanced at the cabin door as it swung open on its sunken hinges, throwing a rectangle of wintry light across her face. She drew a breath to say something then stopped, and closed her mouth gently, the tip of her pink tongue visible between her white front teeth.

  ‘Okay?’ Jill said. Her skull was pounding with the start of a headache.

  Alice gave a tiny shrug. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. The meaning was clear. You can’t stop me.

  Jill looked at Alice, and at the open door and the bushland outside, and wondered if that were true.

  Chapter 15

  Falk banged on Alice Russell’s navy blue front door and listened as the sound echoed deep within the house. They waited. There was a stillness, but not the hollow emptiness of a vacant property. He realised he was holding his breath.

  The face had disappeared from the upper window as soon as he’d seen it. He’d nudged Carmen, but by the time she looked up it was a blank square. There’d been a face, he’d explained. A woman.

  They knocked again and Carmen cocked her head.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ she whispered. ‘I think you’re right, there’s someone there. I’ll stay here, you see if you can get around the back.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Falk walked to the side of the house and tried a tall gate. It was locked, so he dragged a nearby wheelie bin closer and, glad he was in his hiking clothes, climbed up and over. He could hear Carmen knocking as he followed a paved path into a large back garden. It was complete with decking area and a spa pool filled with water in a shade of blue unseen in nature, while ivy climbing the wall gave t
he space a secluded feel.

  The back of the house was made up almost entirely of windows looking into a spacious kitchen. The polished panes of glass were so highly reflective, he almost didn’t see the blonde woman inside. She was standing in the doorway to the hall, perfectly still, with her back to him. Falk heard Carmen knock again and the woman jumped at the sound. At the same time, she must have sensed his movement outside because she spun around, crying out as she saw him in the garden, her familiar face wide open in shock.

  Alice.

  For a split second, Falk felt the giddy euphoria of relief rush through him. The adrenaline pulsed once, hard, then with a pain that was almost physical, drained as fast as it arrived. He blinked as his mind caught up with what he was seeing.

  The woman’s face was familiar, but it wasn’t one he recognised. And woman wasn’t even the right word, he thought, a groan forming low and deep in his throat. She was just a girl, staring out at him from the kitchen with fear in her eyes. Not Alice. Nearly, but not quite.

  Falk pulled his ID out before Alice’s daughter could scream again. He held it towards her at arm’s length.

  ‘Police. Don’t be scared,’ he called through the window. He tried to remember the girl’s name. ‘Margot? We’re helping with the search for your mum.’

  Margot Russell took half a step towards the glass. Her eyes looked bruised from crying as she peered at the badge.

  ‘What do you want?’ Her voice was shaky, but strangely unsettling. Falk realised it sounded a lot like her mother’s.

  ‘Can we talk to you?’ Falk said. ‘My colleague at the front door is a woman, why don’t you let her in first?’

  Margot hesitated and glanced once more at the badge, then nodded and disappeared. Falk waited. When she returned, Carmen was following. Margot unlocked the back door and let him in. As Falk stepped inside, he was able to see her properly for the first time. Like Alice, she was almost beautiful, he thought, but with the same sharpness in her features that made her something else. Striking, perhaps. She was sixteen, he knew, but with her jeans and socked feet and bare face, she looked very young.

 

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