Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(107)

Falk spoke as quietly as he could over the clamor of the rides and music. He waited then, as Sergeant Dwyer simply stared at him for a long moment. The officer slowly tilted his head and raised his eyes upward to the ferris wheel. Next to him, Raco did the same. Falk didn’t need to. He had seen enough. The ride creaked and groaned overhead. Gone before she was gone.

Falk said nothing else, giving Dwyer the same space and time he’d needed himself to let the implications fully wash over him.

Falk wasn’t sure how many minutes he’d stood fixed in that spot, staring up at the wheel as his thoughts tumbled in a new unsettling direction, but it had been long enough for Raco to notice. He had left the others queueing for a children’s ride farther up the path and wandered back to Falk, concerned. They had talked then, urgent, distressing words passing between them. This, here. This is what we were missing. The two men had looked at each other, then Raco had pulled out his phone and called Dwyer. The sergeant had made his way over from across the festival grounds, then stood in the shadow of the ferris wheel himself, arms folded and face set, as he listened to what Falk had to say.

“There were sightings of Kim.” Dwyer dropped his gaze from the wheel now, his voice low. “I’m not talking just one, either. I’ve got a string of people who reckon they spotted her.”

“No. Saw someone like her, maybe.” Falk shook his head. “Medium height, medium build, dark hair. There’d have been a hundred women here that night who would match that description. But no one who actually knew Kim saw her, or spoke to her.” He watched Dwyer closely. The sergeant wasn’t disagreeing. “You said it yourself, mate, something seemed off there, and you were right. We all see what we expect to see. A dad holding two ice creams, standing outside the women’s toilets, chatting to friends going in and out. Of course his wife’s inside. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Dwyer didn’t reply immediately, instead glancing pointedly once more to the top of the wheel and then back to Falk. “And here?” he asked neutrally.

“Eva Raco made me wake up to it. Something she pointed out as obvious. This is a small-town festival. Strangers wave at strangers from rides. Because it’s what they do. It’s fun.” Falk held out his hands. He wished he could go back, do things differently, but he wasn’t going to make the error worse by trying to dodge it. “Okay, I didn’t know Kim, but still. I shouldn’t have taken what I saw at face value. That’s my fault.”

Dwyer frowned now. “So Rohan—what? Parks the stroller with Zoe inside, then wanders over here and finds a couple of tourists who have no idea what his wife looks like?”

“Yeah.” Falk nodded. “I think so. If he picks someone who wouldn’t know Kim up close, they’re always going to take his word for it at a distance in the dark. Rohan gets chatting to the Queensland family, looks up at the ride, finds a woman with a resemblance to Kim and rolls the dice and waves, because why not? If she doesn’t wave back, no harm done. But how bloody handy if she does?”

Dwyer stroked his chin. His eyes slid from the wheel, moving out across the grounds and settling a short distance away. Falk followed his line of sight. Through the throng of people, he could see the extended Raco family. They were all gathered beside a kids’ roller coaster, talking and laughing as they waited their turn.

Rohan was there, too. Slightly on the periphery but still very much part of the group. He held his daughter on his hip, with a trace of a smile on his face as he listened to Charlie launch into a story. Rita murmured something and lightly touched Rohan’s elbow, and Falk felt Raco flinch beside him. Raco was staring at the man like he’d never seen him before, his face dark.

“Hey. Listen. It wasn’t just you, mate. All right?” Falk leaned in, his voice firm. “To control one person, a whole lot of other people have to be manipulated, you know that. Family, friends, strangers, all of us. We all bought into it.”

Raco didn’t reply, his eyes still on his family. He gave a single, tight nod.

Perhaps sensing their scrutiny, Rohan shifted his weight and looked up. His gaze flitted across the crowd, smooth and light, before snagging first on Dwyer, then Falk and Raco. He couldn’t have known the nature of their conversation, but still. They were three police officers and they were looking his way. Falk braced himself for a range of possible reactions and he sensed Raco do the same.

Rohan didn’t move. He simply held his daughter and gazed back, his expression settling into something both interested and hopeful. It was the perfect response, Falk thought. Respectful, deferential. Perfectly believable, almost.

“If Kim was never here at the festival,” Dwyer said so softly it was hard to hear him over the clamor, his eyes never leaving Kim’s husband, “then where is she?”

It was the question Falk wished he could answer. Rohan’s expression hadn’t changed, but as Falk looked away, he thought he caught a flicker of calculation. It was there, then immediately gone. But it gave him a jolt, like seeing a decent actor dropping character. Just a split second, but still long enough for the damage to be done, leaving the audience frowning and thinking: Wait. This isn’t real.

So what was real with this man? Falk’s thoughts rattled backward, rewinding the minutes and hours, trying to find something he knew he could rely on. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, and when a single memory began to emerge from the tangled mess, it wasn’t one he’d expected. He wasn’t thinking about the festival, or the vineyard, or even the town itself.