Exiles (Aaron Falk #3)(64)

Falk looked past him to the sign propped up nearby. Each day had seen a different charity on the gate, and this wasn’t one he was hugely familiar with. He recognized the logo and branding, though. A support network for families of those with alcohol abuse issues.

“This is my wife, Cathy, by the way.” Dwyer nodded to the woman waiting patiently for Eva to painstakingly deposit Raco’s coins into her tin one at a time.

“Hello.” Cathy looked over and smiled. She had a badge pinned to her shirt showing a photo of a young woman captured in a spontaneous glance. A surprised, amused look lit up her eyes, but for just a moment, her frozen long-gone gaze reminded Falk a little of Kim Gillespie. The similarity ended there, though; this woman was years younger, with fair hair framing her face. Caitlin Dwyer, he read, above the charity’s logo and dates of both her birth and her death. What had Raco said about her? Falk thought back. Choked on her own vomit after a party the previous year. According to her mother’s badge, Caitlin had been just twenty-two.

“I’m very sorry about your daughter.” Falk turned back to the sergeant.

“Thank you.” Dwyer’s reply was steady, but there was something deep and sad behind his eyes. “Doesn’t get much easier, but we try to make a point of talking about it. Not a popular topic this time of year—” His eyes followed a couple clinking past with a large case of wine bottles, their young children trailing in their wake. “But a community like this, there’s a drinking culture built in, and youth alcohol issues don’t get much attention. People think it’s just kids being kids, but some of them—” His eyes slid to his wife’s badge, then quickly away. “They can’t handle it. Oh, great, thank you.” He held out his tin as another passerby reached over.

“All right,” Raco said as Eva finally dropped in her last fifty-cent piece. “Well, good to see you, Rob, Cathy. We’ll let you get on.”

“Thank you for the money, sweetheart,” Cathy said to Eva. “Here, let me give you a sticker. Enjoy the rides.”

“We’re not going on rides,” Eva announced. “We’re investigating the exits.”

Dwyer’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “That right, Eva?” He spoke to the girl, but his eyes flicked to Raco’s for a measured beat. “Well, that sounds very interesting. Make sure you let me know what you find out, won’t you?”

Falk watched as Dwyer and Raco held each other’s gaze a moment longer, then Raco inclined his head. Understood. One cop to another.

“Well, that sounds like our cue,” Raco said as a large group clicked through the turnstiles and Cathy held out her tin hopefully. “Let’s keep moving.”

Raco rolled his eyes good-naturedly as they walked away, but didn’t seem too put out.

“Bloody Dwyer. It’s quite hard to stay annoyed with him, though.”

“Sad about his daughter.” Falk glanced back. Cathy was shaking her tin again. “Not surprising he’s not a fan of the opening-night party, I suppose.”

“No. He’ll have that shut right down within a few years, I reckon. Cathy told Rita once they think it’s where Caitlin learned to drink, and they’re probably right. Although, from what I hear, she picked it up pretty fast, anyway.”

“Gave them a bit of trouble, did she?”

“Yeah, a lot of heartache.” Raco’s eyes dropped to the charity sticker on his own daughter’s T-shirt. “Still does, I guess. But that’s the thing about Dwyer, he knows how it feels for families to lose someone. The pain’s real for him. And I get that Zara’s frustrated, but you can’t accuse him of not taking Kim’s disappearance seriously. Okay—” He slowed. “Let’s stop here for a second.”

Raco indicated a small gap between stalls. It was off the track, but they could still see the entrance clearly. Falk thought he could sense Dwyer watching them, but when he looked over, the officer was focused on a new group coming through the turnstiles.

“So, for the sake of argument,” Raco said, tucking Eva in beside him, “if Kim didn’t go through that back east exit, she had to leave some other way.” He pointed to the crowds streaming in. “But I’ve never thought going out the entrance was a realistic option.”

Falk observed for a minute, watching the strong one-way flow of traffic, the staff monitoring the situation on either side of the gate. Anyone trying to push the wrong way through the tide of strollers, scooters, wheelchairs, families linking arms, and strolling couples would surely be noticed.

“I reckon you’re right,” he said finally. “Someone would remember.” He looked up at the CCTV camera installed on a temporary pole. “That’s one of the new ones?”

“This year. Yeah. No camera then.”

Falk nodded and turned back to the entrance. Both sides were flanked by stalls packed tightly together, selling impulse items to get people in the spending mood, small handmade soaps, ice cream. Behind the stalls, a two-meter-high chain-link fence formed a snug barrier.

“What do you think, Eva?” Raco said lightly to his daughter. “Would you try to get out this way?”

“No.” The girl frowned, like it was obvious. “I’d go out the exit.”

Raco’s smile moved from her to Falk. “Me, too. So let’s check that out.”