Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(111)

“Hey.”

Falk opened his eyes. He saw Joel walking along the track toward the Drop and raised a hand. “G’day.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Joel said as he got closer. “Zara called.”

“No worries. She okay?”

Falk and Raco had spent a lot of time with Zara over the past two days. She couldn’t bear to stay still, so they’d gone with her on long, angry walks, Zara pounding around the reservoir trail, striding out fast, her footsteps thudding against the packed earth. A lot of the time she hadn’t wanted to talk, breaking the silence only to throw out a barbed query or accusation. Other times she couldn’t seem to stop, diving into circular, meandering conversations in which she asked the same questions over and over in different ways. Falk knew he and Raco weren’t giving her the answers she wanted to hear, but he wasn’t sure what else they could offer.

“Zara, mate, I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you to make this okay,” Raco had said finally.

They’d been sitting on a fallen log on a part of the reservoir track Falk had never been to before, listening to the gentle lap of the water. Exhausted, Zara had allowed herself to stop walking at last, and she’d looked up at her uncle’s voice.

“If you can take in anything right now,” Raco had gone on, “I just want to thank you for not letting us give up. We loved Kim, and I know you know that. But you’re the one who fought for her.”

Zara had gazed beyond him, out across the shimmering body of water. Somewhere on the other side was the stretch of reservoir track that led to the festival’s east exit. Falk pictured the rope clipped across it, still and slack. No one coming in or going out.

“What’s going to happen to Zoe?” she had asked suddenly. Falk and Raco had exchanged a look. This was a different question at least, and the first time Zara had talked about anyone other than Kim. “I knew Mum wouldn’t have left her alone, but Rohan still did.” She sounded almost dazed at the realization. “How could he do that?”

“I’m pretty sure that at the time Rohan thought Zoe was Charlie’s baby,” Raco had said gently. “Maybe that made it easier.”

“Is she?” Zara had sat a little straighter. “Like Nan said at the christening?”

But Raco had shaken his head. “She’s not. We can check for sure, but you can tell by looking that she’s not. And Rohan took care of her all year, so he must have worked that out for himself before too long.”

“So who’s going to look after her now?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet,” Raco had said. “But we’ll make sure she’s all right, Zara.”

“Yeah. Okay. Good.” Zara had looked relieved, then she’d shrugged. “I actually don’t think she looks too much like Rohan, you know. She reminds me more of Mum.”

It had taken nearly thirty-six hours to recover Kim’s remains from the bushland below the lookout. The dense terrain had challenged even experienced searchers as a team had attempted to navigate a way through. When the first night had fallen with still no news, Falk had felt his own doubts start to creep in. But he’d think again about that drive from Melbourne to Marralee. Pulling up at the lookout beside another car, finding Rohan Gillespie there. What had Falk seen? A grieving husband and father, taking a break to care for his young daughter and stare at the view? A controlling and violent man, composing himself at the scene of his worst act, before pulling down his mask? Falk would picture that single moment and feel sure that the team would uncover what they were all searching for.

Finally, they had. Kim Gillespie, lost for so long, was at last found. It was only then, Falk heard, that Rohan had started talking.

“Zara seemed okay, actually,” Joel said now. He turned his head and squinted out at the reservoir, the water bright with reflected light. “Sort of better, even. Better than she’s been for a while, at least. She said the visit this morning went well.”

“Yeah, it did,” Falk said. “It was needed, I think.”

In the early predawn chill, every present member of the Raco family had gathered on the driveway outside Charlie’s house. Falk had joined them as they’d driven in convoy up to the lookout, the darkness close around them. They’d arrived in time for first light, getting out of their cars at the end of the thin track and standing together in the clearing. Falk had seen Raco reach out, as always, for Rita.

Charlie had walked over to the edge of the lookout alone. He’d stared down at the dense bushland below, then covered his face and cried. His brothers had joined him, standing on either side, their heads close and their hands on his back as they spoke in soft, low voices. Eventually, Charlie had straightened and wiped his face.

“Hey, do you remember that terrible old bike Kim used to ride?” he’d said suddenly. “The one she had that first day we saw her?”

“I remember it still took you bloody long enough to catch her on it,” Raco had said, and Ben had grinned.

“Yeah. That’s true.” Charlie had smiled, too. “Worth it, though.”

They’d stayed up on the lookout and swapped stories as the sky lightened around them. Charlie had taken the lead, his memories spilling out. What he’d said to Kim when he’d finally caught up with her all those years ago, how she’d quickly become his favorite person, their happiness when their daughter was born, the way Kim used to sing made-up songs to Zara as a toddler. Zara had laughed in unexpected delight at that, brushing away her own tears as she nodded. She remembered that, and other things as well. So they’d all taken turns, standing in the clearing and reliving their favorite times with Kim, while the little kids had played on a picnic rug at their feet and the sun rose over the hills behind them.