Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)(58)

‘Really?’

‘His secretary was insistent. He’s on leave for a few days, apparently. Personal reasons.’

‘While an employee’s missing?’

‘I suppose Jill did say he’d come back for a family issue.’

‘I know, I just didn’t believe her,’ Falk said. ‘We could try his house?’

Carmen started the engine then paused with a thoughtful look on her face. ‘You know, it’s not too far to Alice’s place from here. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a helpful neighbour with a spare key.’

He looked over. ‘And crisp copies of the documents we need printed out and left on Alice’s kitchen counter?’

‘That would be ideal, yes.’

Get the contracts. Get the contracts. Falk’s smile faded. ‘All right. Let’s see what we can see.’

Twenty minutes later, Carmen rounded a corner into a leafy street and slowed the car. They had never visited Alice Russell at home and Falk looked around with interest. The neighbourhood was a picture of expensive serenity. The pavement and fences were spotless and the very few vehicles parked on the road gleamed in the light. Falk guessed most were safely tucked away under protective covers in locked garages. The neat trees lining the nature strip looked like plastic models compared with the primal lushness that had lurked over them for the past three days.

Carmen crawled along, squinting at the shining letterboxes. ‘Christ, why don’t these people put clear numbers on their houses?’

‘I don’t know. Keep the riff-raff away?’ A movement up ahead caught Falk’s eye. ‘Hey. Look.’

He pointed to a large cream-coloured home at the far end of the road. Carmen followed his gaze and her eyes widened in surprise as a figure strode out of the driveway, head down. A flick of the wrist and the black BMW parked on the road gave a subtle beep as it unlocked. Daniel Bailey.

‘You’re kidding,’ Carmen said. He was wearing jeans and an untucked shirt, and he ran a harried hand through his dark hair as he opened the driver’s door. He climbed in and fired up the engine, pulling away from the kerb. The BMW had turned a corner out of sight by the time they reached the house. Carmen followed far enough to see it swallowed up and swept away along a main artery.

‘I don’t feel comfortable chasing,’ she said, and Falk shook his head.

‘No, don’t. I don’t know what he was doing but it doesn’t look like he was running.’

Carmen did a U-turn and stopped outside the cream-coloured home. ‘I guess we found Alice’s house, anyway.’

She turned off the engine and they climbed out. Falk noticed that the city air now seemed to have a fine film on it that gently coated his lungs with each breath. He stood on the pavement, the concrete oddly hard underneath his hiking boots, and surveyed the two-storey home. The lawn was large and neatly mowed, and the front door shone in a glossy shade of navy. A thick mat at its foot declared visitors welcome.

Falk could smell the decay of winter roses in the air and hear the distant rush of traffic. And on the second floor of Alice Russell’s home, through a streak-free window overlooking the road, he could see a five-pointed white star of fingertips pressed against the windowpane, a flash of blonde hair and the open-mouthed circle of a face looking out.





Day 3: Saturday Afternoon


‘There’s something back here.’

Beth’s voice was muffled. A moment later, there was a rustle and a crack and she re-emerged, forcing her way through the shrubbery growing high and wild on either side of the track.

‘That way. There’s a shelter.’

Jill looked in the direction Beth was pointing, but the bushland was thick and complete. She could see nothing but trees.

‘What kind of shelter?’ Jill craned her neck and took a step forward, her raw left heel screaming in protest.

‘A little hut or something. Come and see.’

Beth was gone again. All around, the tap of rain was growing more insistent. Without warning Bree stepped into the long grass and disappeared after her twin.

‘Wait –’ Jill started, but it was too late. They were out of sight. She turned to Alice and Lauren. ‘Come on. I don’t want us getting separated.’

Jill stepped off the trail and into the bushland before anyone could argue. Branches clawed at her clothes and she had to lift her feet high. She could make out splashes of colour as the twins’ jackets bobbed in and out of view. Finally, they stopped moving. Jill caught up, breathing heavily.

The cabin lay small and squat in a tiny clearing, its hard lines at odds with the twisted curves of the bushland. Two vacant black windows gaped out of rotting wooden frames, and the door sagged open on its hinges. Jill looked up. The walls might be bowed, but it appeared to have a roof.

Beth walked up to the cabin and put her face to the window, the back of her head slick and shining with rain.

‘It’s empty,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’m going inside.’

She pulled open the sagging door and was swallowed up by the black interior. Before Jill could say anything, Bree had followed her sister inside.

Jill was alone, her own breath loud in her ears. Suddenly Beth’s face appeared in a window.

‘It’s dry in here,’ she called. ‘Come and see.’