by Jane Harper
Now, Beth looked out at the surrounding bushland and squeezed the damp cigarette packet in her hand. She knew the group was in the shit. They all knew they were in the shit. But as long as Beth had been able to smoke, it had felt like a thread linking her with civilisation. And now Alice had ruined even that. With a rush of anger, Beth closed her eyes and hurled the cigarette packet into the undergrowth. When she opened her eyes, it was gone. She couldn’t see where it had landed.
A gust of wind blew across the clearing and Beth shivered. The sticks and leaves around her feet were damp. No easy firewood there. She thought back to that first night, when Lauren had checked around for dry kindling. Beth scratched her palm, empty without its cigarette packet, and looked back at the cabin. It had a lean to it, with the tin roof jutting out at one side more than the other. It probably wasn’t enough to keep the ground dry beneath, but it was the best chance she could see.
As Beth made her way back towards the cabin, she could hear voices coming from inside.
‘I’ve already said, the answer’s no.’ Stress clipped Jill’s words short.
‘I’m not asking your permission.’
‘Hey, you need to remember your place, lady.’
‘No, Jill. You need to open your eyes and take a good look around. We’re not at work now.’
A pause. ‘I am always at work.’
Beth took a step closer and all of a sudden felt herself stumbling as the ground disappeared beneath her boot. She landed heavily on her palms, her ankle twisting under her. She looked down, the groan in her chest rising to a shriek when she saw what she had landed on.
The sound cut through the air, silencing the birdcall. There was a shocked stillness from the cabin, then two faces appeared in the window. Beth heard footsteps running up behind her as she scrambled away, her twisted ankle throbbing in protest as it bumped along the ground.
‘Are you okay?’ Lauren was first to reach her, with Bree close behind. The faces vanished from the window and a moment later, Jill and Alice were outside. Beth hauled herself to her feet. Her fall had scattered a pile of dead leaves and forest debris, exposing a shallow but distinct dip in the ground.
‘There’s something in there.’ Beth heard her voice crack.
‘What?’ Alice said.
‘I don’t know.’
With an impatient noise, Alice stepped forward and skimmed her boot across the dip, sweeping the leaves aside. Collectively, the women leaned forward, then almost instantly back. Only Alice remained in place, staring down. Small and yellow and partly covered by mud, even to an untrained eye they were unmistakable. Bones.
‘What is that?’ Bree whispered. ‘Please tell me it’s not a child.’
Beth reached out and took her twin’s hand. It felt surprisingly unfamiliar. She was relieved when Bree didn’t pull away.
Alice swept her foot across the hole again, clearing more leaves from the space. She was more hesitant this time, Beth noticed. Alice’s toe caught something hard, sending it skittering a short way through the leaves. Her shoulders visibly tensed, then slowly she bent and picked it up. Her face froze, then she made a small noise of relief.
‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘It’s okay. It’s only a dog.’
She held up a small rotten cross, clumsily fashioned from two uneven pieces of wood nailed together. Across the centre, in letters so old they were barely legible, someone had carved: Butch.
‘How can you be sure it’s a dog?’ Beth’s voice didn’t quite sound like her own.
‘Would you call your child Butch?’ Alice glanced at Beth. ‘Or maybe you would. Either way, this doesn’t look exactly human.’ She pointed her toe at what appeared to be a partly exposed skull. Beth looked. It did look a bit like a dog. She supposed. She wondered how it died but didn’t ask the question out loud.
‘Why isn’t it properly buried?’ she said instead.
Alice crouched next to the hole. ‘The soil probably eroded away. It looks shallow.’
Beth itched for a cigarette. Her eyes darted across the tree line. It all looked exactly the same as it had minutes ago. Still, her skin prickled with the unsettling sensation of being observed. She dragged her eyes away from the trees and tried to focus on something else. On the movement of the blowing leaves, on the cabin, on the clearing –
‘What is that?’
Beth pointed beyond the shallow hole containing the lonely dog. The others followed her gaze and Alice slowly stood up.
The depression sank into the earth beside the cabin wall in an apologetic curve. The hollow was so gentle, it was almost like it wasn’t there at all. The grass covering it was damp and windswept and a shade different from the growth on the other side. The difference was just enough, Beth felt instantly sure, to suggest that the earth had once been disturbed. There was no cross this time.
‘It’s bigger.’ Bree sounded ready to cry. ‘Why is it bigger?’
‘It’s not bigger. It’s nothing.’ Beth’s thoughts were scrambling to backtrack. It was nothing but a natural dip, probably erosion or soil shift, or something to do with some sort of science. What did she know about grass regrowth? Absolutely bugger-all.
Alice was still holding the wooden cross. She had a strange look on her face.
‘I’m not trying to cause trouble,’ she said, her voice oddly subdued, ‘but what was the name of Martin Kovac’s dog?’
Beth sucked in a breath. ‘Don’t bloody joke –’
‘I’m not – no, Beth, shut up, I’m not – everyone try to think. Do you remember? Years ago when it was all happening. He had that dog that he used to lure hikers and –’
‘Shut up! That’s enough!’ Jill’s voice was shrill.
‘But –’ Alice turned to Lauren. ‘You remember, don’t you? On the news? When we were at school. What was the dog’s name? Was it Butch?’
Lauren was looking at Alice like she’d never seen her before. ‘I don’t remember. He might have had a dog. Lots of people have dogs. I don’t remember.’ Her face was white.
Beth, still holding her sister’s hand, felt a warm tear fall onto her wrist. She turned to Alice and felt a wave of emotion. Fury, not fear, she told herself.
‘You are such a manipulative bitch. How dare you? Scaring everyone to death because you didn’t get your own way for once in your bloody life! You should be ashamed!’
‘I’m not! I –’
‘You are!’
The words rang out through the bushland.
‘He had a dog.’ Alice’s voice was quiet. ‘We shouldn’t stay here.’
Beth took a breath, her chest rattling with anger, then made herself take another before she spoke.
‘Bullshit. That was all twenty years ago. And it’ll be night in half an hour. Jill? You already agreed. Stumbling around in the dark is going to get one of us killed.’
‘Beth’s right –’ Lauren started, but Alice turned on her.
‘No-one asked you, Lauren! You could be helping get us out of here but you’re too scared to try. So stay out of it.’
‘Alice! Stop.’ Jill looked from the dog bones to the trees and back again. Beth could tell she was torn. ‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘Look, I’m not keen on staying either, but ghost stories can’t do us harm. Exposure actually might.’
Alice shook her head. ‘Really? You’re really going to stay here?’
‘Yes.’ Jill’s face had darkened with an ugly flush. Her damp hair was plastered to her head, exposing a badger stripe of grey down the parting. ‘And I know you’ve got a problem with that, Alice, but for once keep it to your bloody self. I’m sick of hearing from you.’
The two women stood face to face, blue-lipped, bodies tense. Something invisible shifted in the undergrowth and they both jumped. Jill stepped back.
‘That’s enough. Decision made. Someone get a fire going, for God’s sake.’
The gum trees shivered and watched as they searched for firewood, jumping at every little noise, until it was too dark to see anymore. Alice did not help.
Chapter 16
Margot Russell didn’t speak much in the car.
She sat in the back seat, staring down at her mobile as Falk and Carmen drove to Lauren’s house for the second time that day. She watched the videos obsessively, the screen close to her face and the tinny sound of teenage sex floating through to the front seat. Falk and Carmen exchanged a glance. After the second time through, Carmen gently suggested focusing on something else. Margot simply turned off the sound and continued to watch.
‘We’ll make sure the officers running the search know where you’re staying tonight, in case there’s any news,’ Carmen said.
‘Thank you.’ Her voice was small.
‘And I suppose the school might want to talk to you, but I guess they’ll have Lauren’s contact details. Maybe her daughter can collect anything you need from your locker if you don’t want to go in.’
‘But –’ Margot looked up at that. She sounded surprised. ‘Rebecca doesn’t go to school anymore.’
‘Doesn’t she?’ Falk glanced at her in the rear-view mirror.
‘No. She stopped coming to classes about six months ago.’
‘Stopped completely?’
‘Yeah. Of course,’ Margot said. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘No.’
‘Oh. Well, no, she hasn’t been for a while. She was getting teased a bit. Nothing serious, just some stupid pictures. But I guess she felt –’ She broke off. Looked down again at her screen, her mouth tight. She didn’t finish her thought out loud.
Lauren was waiting for them with the front door open as they pulled up outside her house.
‘Come in,’ she said as they trooped up the driveway. At the sight of Margot’s tear-swollen face, Lauren reached out as though to touch her cheek. She stopped herself at the last moment.
‘I’m sorry, I’d forgotten how much –’ She stopped. Falk knew what she’d been about to say. How much you look like your mother. Lauren cleared her throat. ‘How are you coping, Margot? I’m so sorry this has happened to you.’
‘Thank you.’ Margot stared at the long gash on Lauren’s forehead until the woman’s hand fluttered to it.
‘Come on, give me your bag and I’ll show you to your room.’ Lauren looked at Falk and Carmen. ‘The living room’s at the end of the hall. I’ll be through in a minute.’
‘Is Rebecca home?’ Falk heard Margot ask as Lauren led her away.
‘I think she’s taking a nap.’
The hallway led into a living room that was surprisingly untidy. Half-drunk cups of coffee languished forgotten on the side table and beside the couch, while magazines lay open, abandoned. There was a deep shaggy rug on the floor and framed pictures on every surface. At a glance, Falk could see they were mostly of Lauren and a girl who was obviously her young daughter. At some point, there had been what looked like a small family wedding and a man appeared in the shots. New husband and stepdad, he guessed.
He was surprised to see Lauren’s puppy fat from school come and go over the years, her body swelling and deflating almost with the turn of the seasons. The tension around the eyes was constant, though. She was smiling in every photo, looked truly happy in none.
There were no pictures of the daughter beyond her early teens. The latest one seemed to be a photo of the girl in her school uniform, captioned Year Nine. She was pretty in an understated way, with a shy smile, smooth round cheeks and shiny brown hair.
‘I wish Mum would take that down.’ The voice came from behind them. Falk turned and had to force himself not to react. He now understood what Margot had meant in the car. Have you seen her?
The girl’s eyes were huge and had sunk deep into her skull. The only colour on her face came from the purple rings under her sockets and a fine web of blue veins that glowed beneath papery skin. Even from a distance, Falk could make out the bones in her face and neck. It was a shocking sight.
Cancer, Falk thought immediately. His own father had had the same blow-away look before he succumbed. But he dismissed the idea as soon as it arrived. This was something else. This had the sharp edge of something self-inflicted.
‘Hello. Rebecca?’ he said. ‘We’re from the police.’
‘Have you found Margot’s mum?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Oh.’ The girl was so delicate she seemed to almost hover. ‘That’s shit. I got lost in the bush once. It wasn’t fun.’
‘Was that at McAllaster?’ Carmen said, and Rebecca looked surprised.
‘Yeah. You’ve heard about that place? It was different from what’s happened to Margot’s mum, though. I lost my group for, like, two hours.’ A pause. ‘Or technically, they lost me. They came back when they got bored.’
She was fiddling with something in her hands, her fingers constantly moving. She glanced back at the empty hall. ‘How come Margot wanted to stay here?’
‘We suggested it,’ Carmen said. ‘She was a little reluctant to go to her dad’s place.’
‘Oh. I thought maybe it was because of the photos. I had some problems with that too. Not sex,’ she added quickly. ‘Food and stuff.’
She made it sound so shameful. Her fingers worked faster. Falk could see she was making something. Braiding silver and red threads together.
Rebecca glanced at the door. ‘Have you seen Margot’s photos?’ she asked, her voice low.
‘Margot chose to show us a couple,’ Carmen said. ‘Have you?’
‘Everyone’s seen them.’ She didn’t sound gloating, simply matter-of-fact. Her fingers continued to work away.
‘What are you making?’ Falk said.
‘Oh.’ Rebecca gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘It’s nothing. It’s stupid.’ She held out a colourful woven bracelet, the red and silver threads creating an intricate pattern.
‘Friendship bracelet?’ Carmen said.
Rebecca made a face. ‘I suppose. Not that I give them to anyone. It’s supposed to be a mindfulness thing. My therapist makes me do it. Every time I feel anxious or like engaging in self-destructive behaviour, I’m supposed to focus on this instead.’
‘This is actually really good,’ Carmen said, leaning in to examine it.
Rebecca tied off the loose threads and handed it to her. ‘Keep it. I’ve got loads.’
She gestured to a box on the coffee table. Inside, Falk could see a chaotic nest of silver and red. He couldn’t begin to count how many bracelets were in there. Dozens. It was disturbing to imagine how much time must have been dedicated to that pile, Rebecca’s thin fingers working away to distract her from the dark thoughts brewing in her mind.
‘Thanks,’ Carmen said, putting it in her pocket. ‘I like what you’ve done with the pattern.’
Rebecca looked pleased, her hollow cheeks sinking further into her face as she managed a shy smile. ‘I designed that one myself.’
‘It’s really beautiful.’
‘What’s beautiful?’ Lauren appeared in the doorway. In comparison with her skeletal daughter, her own small frame immediately looked huge.
‘We were talking about that new design. Mum has one in that pattern too.’
Rebecca glanced at Lauren’s wrists. She wore a watch on her left one, but the right one was bare. Instead, a thin red mark circled the skin. Rebecca’s face hardened.
Lauren looked down, horrified. ‘Love. I’m so sorry. I lost it on the retreat. I meant to tell you.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘No. It’s not. I really loved it –’
‘It’s fine.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Mum,’ Rebecca snapped. ‘Forget it. It’s fine. It’s not like I don’t have a thousand others.’
Lauren glanced at t
he open box on the table and Falk knew with certainty that she loathed the contents inside. Lauren looked up almost with relief as Margot appeared in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed but dry for now.
‘Hi, Margot.’ Rebecca looked a little embarrassed. She reached out and snapped closed the box of bracelets.
There was a strange pause.
‘So have you seen the pictures?’ Margot didn’t seem quite able to meet the other girl’s eye, her gaze flitting around the edges of the room.
Rebecca hesitated. ‘No.’
Margot gave a tiny, hard laugh. ‘Yeah. Right. Then you’d be the only one.’
Lauren clapped her hands.
‘Okay. Girls, go into the kitchen and decide what you want for dinner – both of you, Rebecca, please –’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘I’m not arguing. No, I mean it, not tonight –’
‘But –’
‘Rebecca, for God’s sake!’ Lauren’s voice seemed to come out louder than intended and she bit the words short. She took a breath. ‘I’m sorry. Please, just go.’
With a mutinous glance, Rebecca turned and left the room, followed by Margot. Lauren waited until she heard their footsteps disappear down the hall.
‘I’ll make sure Margot’s settled in. Keep her offline if I can.’
‘Thank you for this,’ Carmen said as they walked to the front door. ‘A liaison officer’s spoken to Margot’s dad. He’ll pick her up tomorrow when she’s calmed down.’
‘It’s fine. It’s the least I can do for Alice.’ Lauren followed them out into the driveway. She glanced back at the house. There was no noise or chatter coming from the kitchen. ‘It hasn’t been easy around here lately, but at least I got to come home.’
Day 3: Saturday Evening
The fire was something, at least.
It glowed in the small clearing outside the cabin door. The flames were too weak to give off any real warmth, but as Lauren stood beside it she felt a little better than she had in the past two days. Not good, not by a long way, but better.
It had taken more than an hour of solid coaxing to light it. Lauren had turned her back to the wind, her hands numb as she held Beth’s lighter to a pile of damp kindling. After twenty minutes, Alice had unfolded her arms from across her chest and come over to help. She was obviously more cold than she was angry, Lauren thought. Jill and the twins had retreated into the cabin. Eventually Alice had cleared her throat.