Turning his mind to the job at hand, he drove out of town.
Dave killed the lights on his vehicle just before he reached the park, and was thankful for the full moon, which would guide him from now on.
Parking behind a cluster of thick acacia bushes, he turned off the engine and got out. He pushed his door shut, the click loud in the quiet of the bush. It was still so warm that he broke into a sweat as he hoisted his pack onto his back, adjusted his night vision goggles and started through the bushland.
He walked five kilometres straight, stopping only to take a swallow of water. Dave loved night vision goggles for this type of work. He could avoid tripping over stones or bushes; he could quickly do what needed to be done and get straight out again.
Shortly after becoming a detective, he had investigated cannabis plantations, staking out plots with night vision goggles. He’d spent many nights hiding in bushes, documenting the comings and goings into and from plantations. Then motion detection cameras had changed the game.
He stopped, breathing heavily, and took a look around. There was a grove of trees growing on the edge of a sheer, rocky cliff, which was where he wanted to rig the surveillance cameras. With the Eliza problem, the poaching investigation had taken a back seat, but now it was time to get back into it.
A fox barked nearby and his heart rate sped up. He looked around. Dave wasn’t sure if the government had baited for foxes this year, but there seemed to be fewer around and he was surprised to hear one.
Wiping an arm over his brow, he kept on going.
Half an hour later, he reached the grove of trees he was aiming for. He stood still and watched silently. The moon was lighting the landscape so brightly, the magpies had begun to sing, even though it was night-time.
Dave dropped his backpack on the ground and looked up into the trees. He needed a clear, but hidden, spot.
The rustling of a bush behind him made him freeze. Slowly, he turned and looked over his shoulder. A pair of eyes was looking at him. From beneath the brush, a rabbit crawled out and hopped off into the darkness.
‘I don’t think you’re too welcome in a national park, buddy,’ he muttered.
Turning back to the task at hand, he opened his backpack, and got out a drill and one of the cameras. Shimmying up the gum tree, he placed the camera inside a hole in the tree’s trunk. He assessed the camera’s view and screwed it into place. He repeated the process with another three cameras in another three trees.
There was nothing left to do now but wait.
And hope like hell something was captured on those SD cards.
Chapter 35
Eliza walked along the gum-lined creek, taking deep breaths of the morning air. It was difficult walking in some spots; the stones twisted under her feet and made her stumble. It didn’t matter, though. Around her neck was her camera, and every so often she stopped and took a photo.
There were so many things to photograph: the galahs sitting in the trees, preening each other. Ragged fence lines and rusted barbwire. Rocks covered with moss, and gum trees that would be hundreds, if not thousands, of years old.
She chose a rocky outcrop and sat down, her face turned towards the horizon, where the sun was rising. The contentment she’d experienced since being on Manalinga had been wonderful. Dominic had been relegated to the past. She rarely thought of him anymore, and even though she knew he was a threat, it didn’t seem to matter. Here there was nothing but tranquillity and it seemed to be seeping into her.
She heard rocks scatter and turned. Jacob was walking towards her, holding a travel mug and something wrapped in alfoil.
‘You took off early,’ he said.
‘Much too nice a morning to stay in bed,’ she replied, reaching up to take the mug. ‘What’s this?’ There was a very appealing smell coming from the alfoil.
‘Bacon and egg sandwich, complete with barbecue sauce.’
‘Yum! Thank you. Where’s yours?’ Eliza started to unwrap it and her stomach rumbled. She laughed self-consciously and put a hand on her belly. ‘Looks like you turned up just in time.’
‘I’ve eaten mine,’ Jacob answered, sitting down next to her. ‘I have to take off in about twenty minutes and check a couple of tanks. I’ll come back and pick you up before I head into Blinman with another load of firewood.’
‘Okay. I’ll be ready.’
They both looked at the creek, drinking in the view.
‘This place is so serene,’ Eliza murmured. ‘I love it here.’
‘Do you feel safe?’
‘More than.’
‘Doesn’t bother you going into Blinman?’
Eliza glanced over at him. ‘No. Should it?’
Jacob shrugged. ‘I don’t know—I just thought being around people might make you a bit jumpy. If he’s around . . .’
‘Out here, it’s like he doesn’t exist. If I was in a city, I would feel less safe, even with more places to hide.’ She nudged his shoulder. ‘I think you’re more worried than me!’
‘I’m sure that’s the case,’ he answered seriously.
‘All I know is, I feel at ease and it’s the first time I’ve ever felt like this. I can’t explain it. I think it has a lot to do with the country and the people. I don’t want to be anywhere else.’
Jacob was silent for a moment.
‘Well, my friend,’ he finally said. ‘You might change your mind when it’s forty-eight degrees in the shade and you can’t see your hand in front of your face for the dust. Enjoy loving it! I’d better get going. See you in a couple of hours.’ He got up and stretched, then touched her shoulder and left.
Eliza watched him go, a warm feeling spreading through her. She was so blessed to have friends like Jacob.
‘Thanks again for your help,’ Dessie said into the phone. ‘It’s much appreciated.’ He hung up and took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly.
Well, that was it. That was the last lead he’d had on the foster parents and it had turned out to be a dead end. There didn’t seem to be anywhere else he could get information. All he could do was make a call according to what his gut was telling him.
He sat for a long time in the quiet of the Parachilna Gorge that morning. The wide open land, and expansive blue sky, was a better church than any building could ever be. As he did whenever he needed to think something through, he sat on a rock and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of nature. After opening them, he sat a little longer and soaked in the beauty of the area.
It was all about emptying his head of excess noise and concentrating on what really needed attention, so that he could hear what God was trying to tell him. ‘Be still and know that I am God’ was in the scriptures for a reason.
Dessie had kept this secret for many years and had never thought he would have to reveal it. If he did, so many people would be affected, so many lives would be turned upside down.
He’d always been Clara’s confidant and she had loved to talk. She was one of the few up here who did. Most were the strong, silent type—they used words sparingly. Until they’d had one drink too many, that is! he thought. Clara had usually been a pleasure to be around. But, while she liked to laugh and spread joy, without warning she would spiral into a deep pit of despair and anxiety.
If she was feeling well and a dust storm came through, she’d write messages for Richard in the dust. When sheep were dying, she would find something of beauty in nature and show it to everyone. When bushfires raged around them, Clara would get on with helping everyone. But when the black dog sat next to her, it was difficult for anyone to get even a word out of her. She would lie in her room, the curtains drawn, and not get out of bed for days.
Richard, on the other hand, while he’d loved a good time and was also quick to make a joke, kept things to himself. He had been a risk taker, and not in a positive way. He had ended up betting and losing much more than he could repay. He paid with his life.
Clara had never recovered from Richard’s death. The black dog took hold and for months sh
e couldn’t function. It was all guesswork, but Dessie was pretty sure he knew what her final days were like. No one really knew how long Clara had been missing, but then one day Mary took a meal over and found the house empty. Roseanna had said she hadn’t seen her mother for a few hours.
Two days later, she was found at Forget-me-not Well, among the grove of trees. It was where she and Richard had been married, and where Roseanna had been christened. Dessie would never forget Mary’s reaction to the bloated body being found. He was sure Clara had died of a broken heart.
After that, Mary and John informally adopted their daughter, Roseanna, and she had been raised alongside their own daughter, Karen. Child welfare laws were much less stringent back then, especially in the isolated areas, and it seemed easier for Roseanna to be raised by people she knew, in the land she had been born in, than to upend her young life and take her to an orphanage in Adelaide. It gave him a start to realise she would be sixty now.
Pondering Mary and John’s probable reaction to what he was about to tell them, he clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, stared up at the hills and asked for peace for everyone who would be affected.
‘I have something I need to talk to you about,’ Dessie said as he sat next to John in the sunroom.
‘That sounds very serious,’ Mary answered as she set out a tray with biscuits, a teapot, a jug of milk and a sugar bowl.
‘It is,’ Dessie said haltingly. ‘Before I start, you have to remember I took an oath of confidentiality.’ He saw the way Mary’s eyes suddenly narrowed. He continued, ‘You both know how devastated Clara was when Richard died.’
He looked at his friends, who were sitting upright, staring at him.
‘He had such a tragic, pointless death. It affected all of us so deeply—it wasn’t something anyone could have got over easily. And, as we all know, Clara never did.’ He sighed and kept going with his story.
‘As you both remember, of course, she became so unhappy that she lapsed into a deep depression. That was understandable. Roseanna was there too, but alone she wasn’t enough for Clara, and Roseanna always knew that.
‘When Clara died, it changed everything for Roseanna. She was young and impressionable. She remembered the dark days when Clara didn’t get out of bed. The times she would forget to put tea on the table or when there weren’t any clean clothes. Roseanna remembered having to ride out to paddocks and check the water tanks then call on you, John, if there was something wrong. So much responsibility fell on her young shoulders. And then she fell into the same trap as Clara.
‘When I took her to Adelaide, to try to help her, and she stayed at Mannah Church Homes, it took her so long even to be able to get out of bed, let alone eat a meal with other people.’ He took a deep breath. ‘That’s why we didn’t notice.’
‘Notice what?’ John asked, his voice barely audible.
‘John. Mary.’ Dessie looked from one to the other. ‘Roseanna was pregnant when she left here.’
‘No!’ Mary’s pale face wore a look of complete shock. ‘But when she came back, there wasn’t a baby.’
‘She didn’t know she was with child when I took her away,’ Dessie said. ‘I certainly didn’t know, and I feel a deep amount of guilt. Maybe if I’d left her here, with you, she would have got better of her own accord. I just couldn’t see it. That’s why I was so insistent that she come with me to get professional help. I thought I’d done all I could to help her here.’
‘The baby?’ John asked.
‘Let me finish the story first.’
‘No!’ John was shouting. ‘No. You tell us right now where that baby is. We have a right to know. We could have raised it, helped Roseanna. Bloody hell, we raised that girl as if she were our own. I can’t believe you haven’t told us any of this. Tell us now.’
Dessie held up his hands in a calming gesture. ‘The child was born in Adelaide on the first of March 1988.’
Mary smothered a cry by putting her hands over her mouth.
‘I wasn’t able to get back to Adelaide to see Roseanna and the baby for a while. Then, when I arrived, Roseanna told me she hadn’t been able to cope and had left her at a church.’
‘Oh, the poor little mite,’ said Mary.
‘I was deeply shocked, of course. I desperately wanted to find out and keep tabs on how the child was getting on in life, but Roseanna wouldn’t allow me to, as she was desperate not to be identified as the mother. We had more than one argument about that.’ Dessie raised a shaking hand to his mouth and took a sip of tea. ‘Despite all she’d been through, I really did believe Roseanna would be okay. She seemed amazingly strong and positive. She was really keen to come back here and get on with her life. With you two.
‘You must believe me when I tell you that I watched her very closely before bringing her back up here.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I spent a lot of time talking to her. But she certainly had her mother’s tendency to fall into a deep, dark depression.’
Mary, with tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks, reached out to grab John’s hand. ‘Who was the father? It must have been someone from up here.’
‘She would never tell me, but she swore it wasn’t someone you knew.’
There was a long silence.
‘Why did she jump into the well, if she was pleased to be back here?’ Mary finally asked.
‘It was ten months to the day after the baby was born. I wonder if she had undiagnosed post-natal depression. And then there was the guilt she must have felt over abandoning her baby.’ He leaned forward and spoke intently. ‘I was frightened it would happen. I was watching, I promise you, but I never saw any sign of her wanting to take her own life.’
Mary said softly, ‘She did seem happy when she came back here. I thought she talked to me about everything.’
‘As I say, I think she put up a very good front,’ Dessie said gently.
‘She never mentioned a baby. How could she have a child and not tell us? Not give us the opportunity to help her? We were her family. I’m sorry, I don’t understand any of this,’ John said. He looked Dessie in the eye. ‘I can’t believe you’re only telling us this now. What kind of friend are you?’
‘I’m a friend who has to keep people’s confidences,’ Dessie answered, with a sinking feeling in his chest.
‘Even if it affects their families?’
‘Even if it affects their families.’
Mary went on, ‘So, this child . . .’
Dessie swallowed and started to speak. ‘Yes, this little girl. I saw her once. Just after she was born. I didn’t see her face, just a mop of hair. Roseanna was my main concern at that stage.
‘When I was able to return, and Roseanna confessed she’d left the baby at a church, she wouldn’t tell me anything about it. Over the years after Roseanna died, I tried to find her child, to find out if her life was going okay. That she was happy. I never could, though. She seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth, and it’s also pretty hard to find someone who doesn’t have her parents’ names on their birth certificate.’
‘Until now?’ Mary asked.
Dessie sighed again. ‘All I have to go on is my gut instinct. Eliza’s story fits. She was left at a church,’ he ticked the first fact off on his gnarly finger. ‘She has a birth certificate without her parents’ names on it. She doesn’t have any family she knows about. For whatever reason, she’s drawn to this place and, finally, she is the spitting image of Clara. Roseanna resembled Clara, but she had a lot of Richard in her features too.
‘Eliza is a young Clara all over again.’
Chapter 36
Jacob opened the door of his homestead and stared in surprise.
‘Hello. You’ve all come for a visit?’ he asked.
Dessie indicated Mary and John. ‘We’d all like to talk to Eliza, if we can, Jacob. Reen said she was here?’
Jacob nodded. ‘Her ex is in South Australia, so we thought it would be a good idea if she was kept out of sight for a while.’
Dessie held him back. ‘Let her tell you that story.’
Jacob wrinkled his brow, and looked from one to the other. ‘Anyone want to tell me what’s going on here?’
Mary said. ‘Can we come in, dear?’
Jacob held the door open for them and they all trooped in.
On the back verandah, Eliza was sitting in a swinging chair, her feet tucked under her, reading a book.
As Dessie caught a glance of her through the kitchen window, his heart started to race. He put a hand to his chest and stopped briefly, before starting to walk towards her again. It was too late to turn back now. He’d thrown the cards in the air and now they had to fall where they would.
‘Got some visitors, Eliza,’ Jacob said. ‘Anyone want a beer? Mary, do you want a wine?’
‘No, thank you. Maybe later,’ Mary answered, sounding distracted.
‘Hello, all of you!’ Eliza said with a smile, coming into the house. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We thought we’d come and visit and see how you were holding up,’ Dessie said as he pulled up a chair and sat down. Mary and John did the same.
Eliza’s expression sobered. ‘He won’t find me here,’ she said softly to Dessie. ‘It’s a long way away from Port Augusta. And, like Dave said, there are too many roads leading in too many different directions. It would be amazing if he thought to come here.’
‘And he’ll have to get through me,’ Jacob said from the doorway. He focused on Eliza. ‘I’m just going to shut a windmill off. I’ll be back in about half an hour.’
Dessie noticed her smile held a particular sparkle when she answered that she would see him soon.
The door slammed and Jacob was gone.
‘What do you mean ‘“he won’t find me here”?’ John asked.
Eliza cocked her head to one side and looked at him. ‘I have a violent ex, John,’ she admitted.
Dessie watched her intently. Despite what she was telling them, she seemed freer, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. With that one admission, her life had changed. She wasn’t hiding anymore.
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