Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(49)

“They mentioned it, yeah.”

“They tell you I don’t take them seriously?”

“That seemed to be the feeling.”

Dwyer didn’t seem put out, simply resigned. “It’s not that I don’t take them seriously, it’s more that I think they’re wrong on that specific point.” He found a cleanish spot on the barrier to lean against. “You ever had any call to police a small town?”

“No, but I grew up in one.”

“Like Marralee?”

“More run-down. Doing it a lot harder. But the same where it matters.”

“So you’d probably get it. Place this size—you can get lucky for years and years, dodging those big incidents. But not forever, and when they happen they hurt us all. Not least because most people know each other, so when two separate things happen to two separate people, they can feel closer than they are.”

Falk thought he probably agreed with that. He looked out at the water. There was—the recurring realization always presented itself as new—so much of it.

“Joel said Kim would be the first person in a while not to have been recovered from the reservoir,” Falk said and next to him, Dwyer nodded.

“Yeah, and look, he’s not wrong, technically. But what’s the catch with stats? They can show anything.” The light bounced off the water, reflecting ripples across the sergeant’s face. “We haven’t lost anyone in the last fifty years, because in the last fifty years we started putting up railings and warning signs. And there’s better education about wild swimming, and kids all learn water survival at school. And if a drowning does happen, we’ve got better boats and techniques for recovering the body. Go back another hundred years, when this was just a lake and a glorified watering hole, and it’s a different story.” Dwyer ran a thumb over the edge of the plaque. “More than five months it took us to find Dean Tozer’s body. A bloody eternity for Joel and Gemma, believe me, I know. But we found him in the end.”

“No luck getting the driver?” Falk said. “No judgment, just interested.”

Dwyer sighed through his nose. “You know how it is,” he said eventually. “Sometimes you just don’t.”

Falk nodded. He did know.

“But we found Dean,” Dwyer said. “And I haven’t given up hope on Kim, either. She was a really nice woman. She deserves better, and I don’t like not having answers.”

Falk sensed that was true. Dwyer seemed both personally and professionally dissatisfied that this whole distressing episode was not neatly, if sadly, squared away.

“Anything come from last night’s appeal so far?” Falk asked, and Dwyer gave a noncommittal shrug.

“One or two things. Had a few people come forward, couple of potentially interesting sightings. One near the stroller bay looks promising, a mum who was getting her kids’ bikes out. Timing would work, so we’re checking that out. We’ll see.” He frowned. “Info’s never really been the problem, though; the issue’s always been more sorting through what’s useful. Woman in her late thirties or early forties, average height, medium build, brown hair, wearing dark pants and a light top? I’ve got a dozen people who saw someone matching that description at a dozen different places over the same hour. They can’t all be Kim.” He sighed. “But you never know. New things do come to light. They have before.”

Falk heard the change in his voice. The bushland towered behind them. “You’re talking about the attempted assault?” he asked. “When Kim was a teenager?”

Dwyer’s gray eyes flicked over. “You heard about that?”

“Naomi told me. This morning.”

“Well, yeah, that’s one example. That took absolutely everyone by surprise, so it seems.” The odd note was unmistakable this time.

“Naomi said she never told anyone about that until Kim went missing last year. But, what?” Falk watched him. “You think that’s not true?”

“No, I think that probably is true. And I can believe Kim never told anyone herself.” Dwyer frowned. “Just interesting to see reactions when it came out. Everyone so shocked. These men who were hot and heavy eighteen-year-old boys themselves not so long ago, now all clutching their pearls at the suggestion one of their drinking mates might see a young girl worse for wear and try to take advantage?” He made a noise of disbelief. “I’m not saying they knew, but no one’s that naive. Or in that much denial.”

Neither spoke for a minute, watching as a small brown bird hovered and came to rest on the water, sending ripples across the surface.

“When I said new things came up, I was actually thinking of Kim’s mental health,” Dwyer said eventually, and Falk looked over. “The postnatal depression, or prepregnancy as well, as it turned out. She’d been on medication for more than a year, apparently, kept it to herself. But yeah, that assault allegation wasn’t something I saw coming.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Still not sure what to make of that. Like I was saying, two separate events can sometimes feel connected.”

He turned away from the water, staring up at the deep silence of the bushland for a long time.

“Jesus, I bloody hate that opening-night party,” he said quietly. His eyes were still on the trees. “And whatever Zara and Joel think, I know what they’ve gone through. My wife and I lost our daughter last year, unexpectedly. It’s bloody hard. That’s why I wasn’t around when Kim disappeared to take care of the initial investigation myself. I wish—” Dwyer stopped, frowned. “Well. We can only play the hand we’re dealt. But Zara’s kidding herself if she thinks that any of those kids up there would have noticed one woman walking alone down this track. Every year I break up that party, and every year I climb that trail with a couple of officers, and not one of them looks up from their drink long enough to notice until we’re chucking water on their campfire and checking IDs. So, yeah, I also think Zara’s wrong about that.”