She hated being clueless about their location. She hated her sense of helplessness and reliance on Tash Dunn.
Is Tash even following us?
There’d been a car behind them after Mount Evelyn, but it pulled off a while ago and each time Georgie glanced in the rear-view mirror, there wasn’t a set of headlights in sight.
Gunner called.
‘Ealding’s headed in the approximate direction of Warburton, but sticking to a roundabout route of backroads—maybe to steer clear of booze buses, I dunno—so he could be going to Lilydale, Healesville or…’
She didn’t finish. Franklin guessed there were too many possibilities.
She assured him she was maintaining a discreet tail. ‘But, mate –’
His heart sank at her tone.
‘Georgie’s with both Ealding and Dickson.’
Georgie sat taller on the bench seat. They’d just skirted some shops, joining a street that managed to look semi-suburban and rural in the same short stretch. Most country towns had similar pockets of modest homes on neat quarter-acre blocks, yet something twanged in her memory.
She’d been here before, on a story for Champagne Musings. She ran through her assignments until she pictured a poet in a red jacket and recalled the launch of his latest collection in the paddocks of an organic orchard. It’d been fun, but a time-waster because Sheridan had axed the story.
The poet’s name still eluded her but she remembered the place: Woori Yallock.
Soon, town blocks merged into bush blocks and open paddocks and Georgie deflated. They hadn’t passed anyone in ages. She knew roughly where they were – useless with no one to tell.
Headlights flashed in the van’s rear-view mirror and Georgie’s spirits lifted. Without making it obvious, she checked behind as Ealding turned right onto another side road. She missed the street sign, too busy watching the headlights bob behind them. The car followed them and her pulse increased.
Tash?
The road forked and Ealding stayed on the main drag, curving to the right. The other car veered left.
Couldn’t have been Tash then. Where is she?
Hiding her panic, she noticed the country darkness envelop the van again, broken only by their headlights. Ealding flicked on the high beam, but it lit just a band on the horizon, reflected on posts edging the road, and made it even more obvious how small and dim the moon was tonight.
Georgie had never felt more alone.
Chapter 60
Hannah
Hannah’s head was buzzing. She thought it was because she was overtired and hungry, especially after she’d been so sick lately. But maybe it was from blood loss or hypothermia—or was it hyperthermia? She couldn’t remember which one meant being too cold.
‘Hang on!’ She stopped still, listening hard. ‘It’s a car.’ Her voice cracked with excitement.
Her legs were wobbly, but she managed a slow run using the stick to support her. Her heart pounded, thinking about going home to her family and seeing Bee and Cale and the others.
Hannah tripped and her arms flew up. She lost the stick and fell forward onto her hands. They stung, but she got even more excited because she’d landed on bitumen.
A real road. Not a driveway or something.
And the car was definitely getting closer.
Georgie nibbled at her lip. She was up against it, on her own, in an isolated area with two stoned arseholes, but she had to bring Hanny home safely.
She bit her lip when Ealding braked hard, throwing her forward. She braced a hand on the dash, and at the same time she tasted the tang of blood she spotted something move ahead in the fringe of the van’s high-beam range. A kangaroo?
She flopped back in the seat as the van covered another ten metres, close enough to see a white face and hands waving, wild blurs in the air, and Georgie let out a gasp.
Ealding yelled, ‘Sick!’
Then he and Dicko laughed. The sound scratched up the back of Georgie’s neck.
‘She’s gonna give us a bit of sport after all.’
She felt nauseous.
The van pulled sideways as it came to a stop. She guessed there were fifty or sixty metres between them, but it had to be Hannah. The slight build matched, as did the black clothing and sandy strands of hair that whipped in the wind. Rents to the girl’s clothes tore at Georgie’s heart.
What had the poor girl been through?
Hannah
Hannah was dancing around, waving towards the approaching car, so excited.
I’m going home!
It stopped a bit ahead and someone yelled out, ‘Hello there. You need some help?’
It was a man and he sounded kind. She couldn’t see him because the headlights were right in her eyes, but she pictured a nice farmer type.
Hannah’s heart flipped again, already feeling the hugs of her mum and bros. She might even hug Duane.
She tried to say, ‘Yes, please. I need to go home.’
But she burst into tears, felt all embarrassed and cried harder. But they were happy tears.
Chapter 61
Dicko slapped a clammy hand over her mouth before Georgie could yell out the open window. She struggled against him, trying to reach over Ealding to honk the horn. One of them elbowed her in the breast.
Ealding killed the engine. As he pushed open the driver’s door, he said to Dicko, ‘Keep her quiet.’
His mate grunted and wrapped his free arm around her neck, pulling her against his chest, effectively headlocking her.
She thrashed, trying to find leverage from the floor, dash, seat. Dicko wrapped a leg over the top of her and pressed her into the seat so hard that the inner frame jabbed her thighs.
He bit her earlobe and snarled, ‘We don’t want to spoil the fun, do we?’
Ealding nodded, then jumped down from the van. Georgie watched over Dicko’s shoulder, horrified, as he waved and continued to fake an older man’s voice, telling Hannah he was going to help her.
She needed to warn Hannah to run, but couldn’t.
‘Shut up. Wait.’ Dicko sounded different.
She ignored him and stared at Ealding sauntering towards Hannah. She flicked her eyes from him to the girl – saw Hannah drop her hands and wobble as if about to collapse. She’d recognised him.
Run! Hanny, run!
But she didn’t look like she had anything left to give, so it was up to Georgie.
‘Wait ’til he’s got her back here –’
Georgie blocked Dicko’s voice and reached between the seat and floor, searching about, knocking something metallic. A can? Yes. She hooked onto the rim, dragging it until she clasped it in her palm.
She bit Dicko’s hand. Both his arms loosened and she twisted, sliced the crushed beer can through the air, connecting with his face. He lifted his hands to his ruptured eye as blood streamed out. She scooted behind the steering wheel, hiked up her left leg in the cramped cockpit space and kicked him hard in the sternum.
Air whooshed from Dicko’s lungs and Georgie scrambled for the door release, throwing herself out of the van. She stumbled, righted herself and sprinted towards Ealding and Hannah.
I’ll do whatever it takes, Hanny.
Hannah
She’d been so close to getting away but ended up running straight back into Ealdy. She wasn’t ever going to see her family again. Or get through the night.
Then Hannah thought about everything she’d done to get this far: she’d smashed through walls, fallen out a window, killed or knocked out the rottie and made it through the bush with no shoes or torch or anything.
She could give up now. Or she could die still trying to get home.
Her fingers bent into stiff, sore fists. She watched Ealdy walk towards her. He was laughing, enjoying himself.
She hated him.
If she took off, he’d probably get back in the van and run her down.
If she looked like she’d given up, maybe he’d be suckered in. She could trick him, like she’d done
his horrible dog.
He got closer and she saw something flash behind him, but couldn’t work out what it was. She thought it was probably Dicko. Not her friend after all. Not a nice person, just like he’d told her.
Hannah thought about all the pressure points Josh had taught her, including the ones he said she should never use because they can kill people. She wondered if she had even half a chance of pulling it off.
Ealdy was only a metre away when she again noticed that flash behind him. As Hannah prepared to try a king-hit, a woman screamed. Ealdy twisted and fell, his legs going sideways, and Hannah saw the woman was Franklin’s girlfriend – Georgie. She’d kicked Ealdy’s legs out from under him and was wrestling him on the ground.
Hannah moved to help Georgie, but stopped and half-turned when headlights lit up the road. A siren yelped and she followed the sound in the direction of Ealdy’s van. She saw red-and-blue lights flashing behind it.
Her legs went jelly. It seemed too good to be true. Then she felt arms catch her and heard a man say, ‘It’s okay, Hanny. We’re taking you home.’
It was Sergeant Lunny.
Chapter 62
Franklin gunned the Ninja whenever he thought he’d get away with it and pulled back to the speed limit when he knew it was useless to push his luck against fixed speed cameras. His hands ached from over-gripping, back twinged with knotted tension under his leather jacket and head thumped with unanswered questions – some of them nothing to do with Hannah.
Traffic on the arterial moved freely, the small mercy of travelling in the early hours on a weekend. He’d forgotten that time had shifted forward an hour with the onset of daylight saving until Gunner had reminded him. That lost hour bothered him.
It grated on him that he hadn’t been on the spot, leading the chase. He should’ve been there for Hanny when she was found. Likewise, he should’ve been there to check Georgie was okay. To hold her, tell her how sorry he was to put her in danger, how proud he was of her for not flinching at the risks, how scared he’d been, how relieved he felt…
He hadn’t done any of that because he’d been back in Daylesford pacing holes in the station floor, until he’d mounted his bike for the two-plus hour trek.
He weaved through traffic, using all the lanes, while his brain ticked over. Hanny was in the Royal Children’s Hospital, under observation. Frostbite, dehydration and malnutrition were the least of everyone’s worries. Sam had described the girl’s face as a spider’s web of slashes from her tumble through the window and Franklin couldn’t bear to think about what that sort of scarring would do to the pre-teen girl.
His stomach spasmed in painful waves whenever he thought about the emotional and psychological damage done over the past days.
Although Hanny swore that she hadn’t been raped and the attending doctor didn’t find evidence of sexual trauma—aside from what Sam called horrific multi-coloured bruises on her breasts—they’d done a rape kit. She could have been drugged. Or she could simply have shut down.
He stressed about the first time he and Hanny would come face-to-face. The kid was intuitive. In that and many other ways, she reminded him of Kat – maybe it came from each surviving one shitty, selfish parent being AWOL for most of their lives?
He feared that he’d be transparent, like that surveillance job in Ballarat, and Hanny would see his anger and shame. If Georgie, Gunner and the others hadn’t arrived when they did…
The brakes on the car ahead flashed as it slowed for an amber traffic light. Franklin suddenly registered this was his turnoff. He managed to zip past using the gutter, taking the curve and nosing the powerful bike towards the hill. The Ninja flowed up the steep grade and through the bends.
The closer he drew to Mount Dandenong, the more he eased back on the throttle. He suddenly needed more time.
His mind flicked to the scene Gunner had described. She’d seen an opportunity to run a nose-and-tail shadow on Ealding’s van and ended up in front of him. Josh was with her in her private ride and he’d maintained a commentary with Lunny, who’d travelled with Sam, Kat and Bernie in the Olinda cop’s truck, enough distance behind that the van occupants wouldn’t have known they were there.
Franklin cringed at his doubts about Gunner’s ability to look after Georgie. She wasn’t just a gun on the weapons range – she’d brought everyone out safely.
She deserved a medal, but would probably cop a reprimand.
Franklin and his bike worked as one as they snaked the curves approaching Ando’s road. It struck him that it wasn’t stormy, wet or gusting gale force winds – a first up here since this whole mess began.
His mind turned to the call from Eddie Knight just before he left Daylesford. The District Inspector had opened with, ‘Congratulations on another excellent outcome, John.’ In the next breath, ‘I can’t save you from disciplinary action. Can’t have cowboys in the force.’
So he’d kissed his chances of CI goodbye. Bull Jenkins would love that.
‘You and your cohorts are on notice.’
Even worse, he’d dragged his mates into it.
Franklin gave the Ninja some stick. He wouldn’t have done anything differently.
Georgie watched Franklin pull up Ando’s drive. He killed the engine, but sat awhile before taking off his helmet. He delayed again, giving her a long look in the dappled pre-dawn light, then he dismounted.
She was only just holding it together. The best she could manage was a nod when he reached her side. He returned it with cop face in place, but raw emotion tinged the hazel of his eyes.
The next thirty minutes were a blur.
She remembered Franklin and Katz clinging to each other. Then as clones, they broke apart, shrugged and exchanged grins, the effect only slightly spoiled by Kat’s small stagger, thanks to her moonboot.
‘Not bad, kid.’
‘We did good, huh? You didn’t do too bad yourself.’
Georgie also recalled Ando slapping an arm around Kat’s shoulders and jerking her into a rough hug. The SES officer’s voice thick with emotion when she said, ‘I knew we’d bring them home.’
Aside from that, Georgie had been a numb, deaf and dumb bystander to the debrief between the team. Then, somehow, she’d ended up on the back of Franklin’s bike, wearing an ancient helmet that Ando had dug out of her shed.
Georgie was grateful for the roar of the bike and Franklin’s need to concentrate. They rode from Mount Dandenong to the Children’s Hospital in Parkville without exchanging more than a handful of words over the forty-five-minute journey.
There would be time later.
Franklin stared at Georgie’s phone as they sat in a garden courtyard at the hospital. A picture filled the screen. She’d found it on the Herald Sun Twitter feed and it was on its way to going viral. It captured Ness and Duane huddled around Hanny’s bedside with Riley and Coops tucked either side of her under the bedcovers, their three heads squashed onto one pillow. Little kids who were suddenly old looking. Especially Hannah.
‘Who took it?’
Georgie shrugged.
It could’ve been a member of the nursing staff, although Franklin thought it was unlikely. He guessed that a journo disguised in medical scrubs had snapped the intimate family moment. They’d probably just made a tidy bonus at the expense of the Daylesford family.
Georgie placed her mobile next to her. She leaned back, palms on the fake grass, banging her boot heels against the wall.
‘Your jacket’s stuffed.’
She glanced down, pushed a finger through one of the holes in the leather, wiggled it.
When she looked up, their gaze connected. Her eyes glittered. ‘Ask me.’
He hesitated. Was it better or worse to know where they stood with AJ back – and what she’d had to say and do to get Ealding to lead her to Hanny?
He felt his neck blaze. She laid her fingers lightly over his.
He wanted to take the gesture as a good sign, but was still afraid. ‘So…Dicko?’
‘He’s a nasty sex creep but apparently didn’t want to be part of murder. He helped Hanny while she was held captive, sneaking her food and water. And when he grabbed me in the van, he reckoned that was just an act for Ealding. As soon as his mate walked off, he was going to explain that he couldn’t help openly, but that back at the house he’d find a way out for us. He didn’t get a chance before I busted open his eye.’
Her lips went taut. Franklin wanted to kiss them but didn’t move.
‘There’s probably also a vague sense of guilt about the things he’s done. He won’t go on the record though. Too scared. He reckons he’d never be safe if he shopped Ealding.’
They fell silent for a few minutes.
Georgie spoke again. ‘I’m so glad this one has a happy ending.’
She shivered, and her expression was both distant and haunted. Lost in memories of the last case she’d been this involved in. The trauma for her…and many others.
Franklin crept an arm around her shoulders. What happened last year had left permanent scars. The outcome this time was a miracle.
‘I know.’
She added soft and sad, ‘I just wish Bradley Horner hadn’t died. And I wish Zena Betka had made it home.’ Her voice caught.
The information hadn’t been officially released yet, although it’d probably leaked already, but they’d found the girl’s body in a mineshaft near where they’d picked up Hanny. The Crime Scene crew said Hannah’d passed it so closely that it was amazing she hadn’t fallen in. They would continue scouring the bushland for more victims for some days.
Franklin felt a squeeze around his heart as he contemplated the CFA man and the Polish teenager, and the pain increased as his thoughts went to their families and friends. He would go to both funerals, and if they discovered more bodies, those too, knowing they’d be emotionally shattering, standing-room only tributes.
Into the Fog Page 31