The Shadow House(74)

‘No,’ she said.

‘Ren, we have to. The farm … there are too many problems. It’s time to go.’

Renee narrowed her eyes and went for the jugular. ‘Is that what a real man would do? What would your father think?’

Michael went still. His arms hung limply at his sides. ‘Ren, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘The deal is signed. The farm is sold. We don’t have a choice.’

But as Renee looked out the window at the woods, she knew he was wrong. She could still choose. Because, somewhere, her son was still out there. And so was the devil.





ALEX





33


‘Alex! Alex!’

Shannon was still chasing after me, but I could barely hear her over the sound of high-pitched screaming. All through the hall, children were being rounded up by their parents and taken home. Noooo, I heard one of them cry. I wanna staaaaaay. The parents crooned and bribed, threatened and promised. It’s getting late, sweetheart. Fine, one last lolly and then bed. Okay, that’s it, no treats for you for the rest of the week.

There was a ringing in my ears. Rrriiiiing.

‘Maggie?’ I yelled.

The ringing got louder.

‘Maggie!’

I couldn’t see her, she wasn’t there. Layla wasn’t there, Kit wasn’t there, what the hell was going on? I couldn’t think. I kept on going, pushing the pram, searching and yelling while small heads bobbed through the crowd, running, dancing, hiding.

Rrriiiiiiiiiiinng.

‘Alex.’

I turned around. Shannon had caught up with me and was staring at me with genuine concern. ‘Alex, what’s got into you?’

I didn’t know how to respond. ‘I … need to find Maggie.’ Rrriiiiiiiiiiinng. ‘What the hell is that sound?’

Shannon looked like she’d just watched my brain seep out of my ears, grow legs and walk away. ‘Honey, it’s your phone. Someone’s calling you.’

‘What?’ Startled, I pressed my hand to my thigh where the pocket of my shorts was vibrating. ‘Oh.’ Turning my back on Shannon, I pulled out my phone and pressed it to my ear. ‘Hello?’

‘Alex Ives?’ said a gruff voice. ‘This is Michael Kellerman. Is now a good time?’

‘Michael?’ He sounded different. Much less harsh. Subdued. Soft, even.

‘Sounds like you’re busy,’ he said. ‘I can call back.’

‘No, it’s fine, I can talk. Just give me two seconds …’

Leaving Shannon on the grass, I steered the pram away from the noise of the party and strode towards the quiet of the dam. Behind me, cheers rang out as someone turned the music up.

Stopping next to the water, I bent down to check under the hood and found Kara fast asleep with her mouth wide open and her favourite toy bunny wedged under her chin. I watched my daughter’s chest, waiting for movement … and there it was, a slight rise and an even slighter fall. Gentle, like a wish. I pulled the muslin cloth over her legs and brought the phone back to my ear.

‘I’m so glad you called, Mr Kellerman, I—’

‘You’ve had packages?’ Michael’s speech was slurred.

‘Yes.’

‘And the note?’

‘I found it in the farmhouse. It was addressed to me. I thought maybe you—’

He said something but there was another loud surge from the party and I couldn’t quite hear him.

‘Sorry, say that again?’

I pressed the phone closer to my ear and blocked the other with my finger. I could hear music playing on the other end, a tinny guitar riff and a warm folksy voice.

‘Mr Kellerman, hello?’

He made a sound, a sort of wet grunt. The clink of ice cubes hitting glass. A slurp and a swallow.

‘Mr Kellerman, what does the note mean?’

‘It means that she …’ He broke off and made a gulping noise like a fish out of water. ‘She’s …’ The next sound Michael Kellerman made was unmistakable. He was crying.

‘Michael, do you think I could speak to your wife?’ I said gently. ‘Renee? Is she there?’

‘Of course she’s not here,’ he snapped. ‘Of course she isn’t.’

In the background on his end, there was a muffled bang and what sounded like the scrape of a chair leg. Then the line went completely quiet, and I thought for a moment that he’d hung up.

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Are you still there?’

Michael cleared his throat. ‘You got money, Alex?’ The gruffness was back, that hard, wild edge.

My heart almost stopped. ‘Sorry?’

‘Money. Do you have it? Do you need it?’

I thought immediately about the Tupperware container. ‘I … I don’t understand.’

‘Never mind. Listen, whatever’s happening to you, it’s not what happened to me and Ren. Can’t be.’ He took two big wheezy breaths. ‘And I’ll tell you why. Because what happened to us … to Gabriel … was my fault. It was all my fault.’

Another great cheer erupted from the hall at my back. I ignored it, focusing instead on the violin-slide of Michael’s voice. In the background, I could hear little bangs, a rattle of crockery. Then a series of metallic clicks and the sound of a door creaking. ‘Go on, girl,’ said Michael, softly. ‘Out you go.’ And then a dog barked. Once. Twice. Three times.