Little Girl Lost (12 page)

The sound of the low flying aircraft made Sarah look up. As she did, her boot landed on uneven ground. A shaft of pain shot up her ankle as her foot twisted and she fell.

‘Oow!’ The pain in her ankle was almost forgotten as something sharp and rough scraped along her side.

‘Sarah. Are you all right?’ Pete was on one knee beside her.

She nodded as she rolled into a sitting position, her hand grabbing at her side. ‘I must have landed on something sharp,’ she said.

‘Let me see.’

With surprisingly gentle hands, Pete carefully lifted her shirt. She heard him suck in his breath.

‘Go on,’ she joked. ‘Tell me the truth. I’m going to die, aren’t I?’

‘Not on my watch you’re not.’ Something told her he wasn’t really joking.

Pete dropped his rucksack on the ground and looked around. ‘Come and sit down,’ he said as he indicated a large sandstone boulder. ‘I want to have a better look at your side and at that ankle.’

‘I’m fine,’ she said but as she started to rise, Pete took her arm anyway, holding her firmly. She tentatively put the twisted ankle to the ground. It barely hurt at all. ‘See,’ she declared, walking almost without a limp to the indicated seat.

Sarah had to admit it was a relief to sit down. She and Pete had been walking for what seemed like hours. It was hot and she was sweating. Her throat was sore from calling Renee’s name. And her heart was heavy because they had seen no sign of her.

Once more Pete knelt beside her and gently cradled her foot in his hands. Ever so carefully, he undid the laces of her boot and slid it off. Then he pulled down her thick hiking socks.

‘Can you move it?’ he asked, still holding the foot.

Sarah wriggled her toes, and then gently moved her foot in a circle.

Pete nodded. ‘It’s fine. You’ve just twisted it. You may have some swelling and a bit of a bruise there tomorrow, but you are definitely going to live.’

‘That’s a relief.’

Pete slipped her foot back into the boot and began lacing it tightly. ‘The boots will give you all the support you need. Now, let’s check your side.’

‘That actually hurts more than the ankle does.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Pete winced as he lifted her shirt. ‘You’ve got a fair sort of a scratch there. You must have fallen onto a broken branch or something.’

Sarah twisted her body to try to see, but that actually made her side hurt even more.

‘Stay still for a minute. Let me clean it.’ In a few seconds, he had opened a water bottle. He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and liberally doused it with water. ‘Don’t worry. It’s clean,’ Pete said as he gently patted the scratch on her side. The damp cloth felt cool on such a hot day, but it came away lightly stained with her blood.

He poured some more water over the handkerchief and repeated the exercise. It hurt, just a little, but Sarah was amazed at how gentle he was. And also by the way the light brush of his fingers on her bare skin tingled.

‘There you go,’ Pete said, wringing the water from his hanky. He passed her the water bottle so she could take a drink.

‘Do you want to go back?’ he asked her.

‘Absolutely not,’ she said firmly. ‘We should be very close to the billabong. I’m not going back without doing what we came here to do!’

‘You are a very stubborn girl.’

‘It runs in the family,’ Sarah said, thinking about her father. He was stubborn too. Hopefully stubborn enough to beat the disease that was eating away at him.

Pete must have read her thoughts on her face. ‘I was really sorry to hear about your dad,’ he said. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘He’s finished his chemo,’ she said. ‘Now we just have to wait. It’s hard.’ Her voice broke.

Pete sat beside her on the rock, and his arms came about her shoulders. She leaned against him, taking comfort from the strength of him.

‘He wanted to come today, you know,’ Sarah continued. ‘Luckily, Doctor Adam was there to back me up when I said he wasn’t well enough.’

‘It can be really hard for a man to admit he doesn’t have the strength for something,’ Pete said gently. ‘Especially someone like your father. He’s a good man. He wanted to do the right thing.’

‘I know. But sometimes what looks like the right thing isn’t really the right thing … if you know what I mean.’

Pete swallowed a lump in his throat and tightened the arm around her shoulders. He could tell himself he was holding her because she’d taken a nasty fall and was a bit shaky. He could tell himself he was holding her to comfort her because of her father. But, deep in his own heart, he knew he was holding her because it felt wonderful to hold her. So wonderful he wasn’t entirely sure he could ever let her go. From the moment his fingers had touched her bare skin while tending her wound, he’d longed to touch her again.

And it was wrong.

Back in Mount Isa, Linda was carrying his child. And while he didn’t love her, he would love the baby. He would care for them. It was the right thing to do. But, as Sarah said, the right thing wasn’t always right. And in moments of complete honesty, he knew marrying Linda wasn’t the right thing. Not for him, at least. And he wasn’t altogether sure it was right for Linda and the child either. But he would do it, because he’d never be able to look at himself in the mirror again if he didn’t.

He looked down at the top of Sarah’s blonde head, where it lay on his shoulder. Her hair was messy and she was damp with sweat. Slowly she raised her head to look at him. Her eyes were wet with tears. Gently he reached one hand to wipe them away, and then he cupped her face and kissed her.

She tasted of salt and tears and sweat. She tasted of sadness and hope and joy. She tasted of youth and innocence and … Sarah. His arms tightened and he pulled her even closer as her lips moved in answer to his. In all his life, he had never tasted anything so sweet.

When at last they broke the kiss, neither spoke for a very long time.

‘We should keep going,’ Pete finally said.

Sarah nodded. When they got to their feet, she twined her fingers through his. How could the simple act of holding hands seem so very important and meaningful?

Beside him, Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Renee!’ she called. ‘Renee. Are you there? Can you hear us?’

They both listened. There was nothing but the sounds of the bush.

They started walking. Pete searched the undergrowth with his eyes, hoping for some sign of the missing girl. But every now and then, his eyes were drawn back to the woman at his side. Sometimes he found her looking at him, and they both smiled.

‘You know, I had a terrible crush on you when I was small,’ Sarah said when they stopped for a moment to rest.

‘I kind of guessed that,’ Pete said as he handed her a bottle of water. ‘You were a cute kid.’

‘And now,’ she teased, her eyes sparkling as she tilted her head.

‘Still cute. Definitely. But in a different way.’ He leaned forward to kiss her again. He meant it to be a quick kiss, but instantly he felt the heat flare between the two of them, and many long moments passed before they could drag themselves away and resume their search.

They were now walking down a deep gorge. The bottom of the gorge was sandy beneath their feet. On either side of them, red sandstone cliffs rose into the blue searing sky. Even in the gorge, the sun was merciless.

‘That poor little girl,’ Sarah whispered. ‘She must be so hot and thirsty. And frightened.’

‘We won’t give up.’ Pete squeezed her hand. ‘The whole town is here. We’ll find Renee.’

‘You know, I had forgotten just what Coorah Creek was like,’ Sarah mused. ‘The way everyone helps everyone else. That’s not what it’s like in the city.’

Pete felt his heart contract. Of course. The city. She had a life there. She’d want to go back some time. When her father was well … or …

‘Do you miss the city?’

‘I did for about the first week, but not now. I’m enjoying being home again.’ The smile she gave him was almost enough to set him floating two inches above the sand. It wasn’t right that he should feel such joy when somewhere out there in the bush, a small child was lost.

Just then, a noise caused them to halt in their tracks.

‘Renee!’ Sarah called again.

A call came in answer. A cooee from the top of the ridge above. They looked up and saw two people on horseback. For a moment hope flared in Pete’s heart. Were the riders calling them back? Had Renee been found?

No. The riders raised an arm to indicate they were pushing on, further away from the campsite where the child’s parents must be going crazy with worry. Pete and Sarah kept walking.

They saw no trace of the little girl in the gorge.

The red cliffs fell back as they approached the billabong, a surprisingly large body of water surrounded by grass and reeds that looked out of place in the harsh red, brown and orange landscape. The water was very still. Not even a breath of wind moved to create ripples on a mirror-flat surface that reflected the brilliant blue of the sky.

Pete’s heart froze. If a small child had wandered into that water …

‘What should we do?’ Sarah turned to him, her eyes trusting and concerned.

‘Let’s split up,’ Pete said. ‘We need to circle the whole billabong. Look for anything in the mud on the edges that might be a footprint.’

Sarah nodded and set off, circling to the right. Pete turned in the other direction, walking swiftly, but keeping his eyes glued to the banks of the billabong. A couple of times he saw marks in the mud on the bank, but each time a closer look showed them to be animal tracks. Kangaroos obviously came here seeking the sweet green grass. There were other tracks too, that might have been dingoes. But he saw nothing to indicate Renee had come this way.

They had almost completed their circuit of the billabong, when Sarah suddenly darted forward towards the water’s edge. Pete’s heart leaped in his chest, he took two strides to run to her, when she stood again, waving him off. Whatever she’d seen, it was not what they were searching for. When he and Sarah met at the far side of the water, she was carrying a scrap of cloth, but it’s weathered appearance showed it had lain by the billabong for quite a long time.

Renee had not come this way, and for that, in some ways, they were both grateful.

They kept calling and searching as they made their way back towards the campground, but with little hope of success. As they neared the campground, Pete allowed himself to hope that maybe one of the other searchers had succeeded where they had failed. But no. The campsite was fairly busy. It was almost dark and searchers were returning. All looked forlorn and dejected. In a spot by the big gum tree, someone had erected a second huge canvas tent. In her new shelter, Trish Warren was handing out food and water to the searchers before they collapsed, exhausted and dejected. Pete frowned as he spotted Max in animated conversation with a man clutching a camera. Max escorted him away from the big gold motorhome, and then turned away in apparent disgust.

Before Pete could do more than wonder what that was about, a fierce crash of thunder almost shook the ground beneath their feet. Pete looked up to see thick black storm clouds rolling above them. They’d been so intent in their search they hadn’t even noticed the storm arrive. There was a bright flash of lightning, followed by another deafening crash of thunder as the first few huge droplets of water fell.

‘That poor child will be terrified out there alone in this,’ Sarah said.

The rain was getting heavier with every passing second. Already the ground was damp. A storm like this wouldn’t last long, but the rain would be fierce.

‘Maybe it will help. She needs water. This may save her.’

Sarah nodded, and they both raised their faces to the sky to let the water wash away the dust and dry despair of a long fruitless day of searching.

Tia watched as the man with the camera got back into his car, to protect his expensive equipment from the rain, which was now pouring down quite heavily. The rain didn’t seem to bother Max at all. He remained where he was, the water soaking into his uniform as he stared after the man with the camera for a long time. He looked quite intimidating, Tia thought. The very picture of the severity of the law. Had she not known him a little, she might have felt uneasy. As it was, the man with the camera was causing her heart to thump wildly. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was. Word of the search had obviously spread. She should have realised that the news people would get involved at some point. At least there were no television cameras. Not yet anyway. Unconsciously, she moved a little further into the tent, where her face would be well hidden.

‘Any word?’ Sarah and Pete ducked into the shelter, shaking the rain from their clothes as they did.

‘No.’

She saw their shoulders sag.

‘Do you need some dry clothes?’ she asked, not that she had any to offer, but it seemed the right thing to say.

‘We’ll be fine,’ Sarah said. ‘In fact, it’s quite refreshing in a way. We’ll dry out soon enough.’

‘Who was that?’ Pete asked as Max joined them in the tent.

‘John Hewitt. He’s a reporter. A stringer. He’ll sell this story to the papers in Mount Isa and Brisbane. He’ll probably do some radio too, when he can. But he’s got to leave here and drive most of the way back to the Creek if he’s going to do that. There are some advantages to having no mobile signal out here.’ He gave a wry smile.

Tia flicked her eyes towards the car, and the man inside barely visible through the driving rain. She wondered just how many photos he had already taken. And of what.

‘We don’t have to worry too much about him,’ Max said as casually as he could. ‘If he gets too troublesome we can always get Jessica on to him.’

He looked around as if expecting people to react. Tia had no idea what he was talking about. Nor, it seemed, did the others.

‘When Jess first arrived in the Creek,’ Max explained, ‘she was trying to get away from some bad publicity over her past. Drug agents found cocaine on her plane. She didn’t know it was there. She had been tricked by some scumbag drug dealer. She turned him in and wasn’t ever charged. In fact she was a witness against the guilty ones, but the press gave her a hard time. She came here to hide, I guess. That reporter spotted her and figured out who she was. He threatened to expose her. But in the end, she stood up for herself. She decided it was time to stop running and instead she gave him a piece of her mind. That was before Jess and Adam got married.’

He looked directly at Tia as he spoke. She could read the message in his eyes. It’s all right to have a past, he was telling her. A past can be forgiven and overcome. But Max didn’t see the yawning gap between Jess’s story and Tia’s. Jess had been innocent. Tia was not.

‘Can’t you get rid of him?’ Tia asked. She tried to sound unconcerned, but failed.

‘It’s not that easy,’ Max answered. ‘If I try to send him away, he’ll only get more persistent and stick his nose in even further where it’s not wanted. However, I can keep him away from that family. They’ve got enough to deal with right now, without him. If anyone sees him getting too pushy, just let me know. And speaking of Jess, have we had any word?’

Tia nodded.

‘Yes. She headed down to pick up the tracker as soon as she’d finished the sweeps over the search area. She landed there, but then a storm hit them too. It was much worse than this one. I get the feeling it was pretty fierce and for a while it looked like she was going to be stuck there overnight, but it’s cleared now and she’s on the way back to the Creek. She radioed through that she should land just before sunset. She’ll bring the trackers out here at first light tomorrow.’

‘Not tonight?’ Sarah frowned.

‘Grandpa Pindarri is as old as Methuselah,’ said Max with a half-smile. ‘He hates flying too, so I expect he’ll be a bit shaky when he gets off the plane. It’s too late now to do much good. It’ll be dark soon and there’s no moon. It’ll be better tomorrow, when he’s at least had some rest. And speaking of rest, we’re going to need all hands in the morning. So you two should get some food and a few hours’ sleep if you can. We’ll be heading out again as soon as it’s light.’

Nodding, Pete and Sarah moved off together.

‘You’ve called in an aboriginal tracker?’ Tia had to ask. ‘I didn’t think they existed as such any more.’

Max moved a little closer to her, giving her his full attention. Those brown eyes were compelling, and made her feel a little self-conscious.

‘They do and they are very good.’

‘I thought that was back in the old days. That it went out with – I don’t know – modern technology.’

Max shook his head and grinned. ‘There’s not much technology way out here.’

He pulled a bottle of almost cold water from the Esky that sat on the ground nearby. He gave it to Tia and then helped himself to another.

‘The last tracker officially attached to the police force retired in 2014,’ Max said. ‘There’s nothing official about Grandpa Pindarri. He’s lived around this area all his life and I swear he knows every rock and every blade of grass. If anyone can find Renee, it’s him.’

‘Won’t the rain have made it hard? Washed away her footprints?’

‘Grandpa doesn’t need footprints. He can track like no one else I have ever seen. It’s almost as if the earth and the trees and the wind tell him what he needs to know. It’s almost mystical, watching him.’

That was surprising. She had thought Max was a pragmatist. It was nice to think he might be willing to believe in miracles, because Tia was beginning to think that was what it was going to take to find the lost child.

‘She’s been lost and alone for so long. Do you think …?’ Tia’s voice trailed off.

‘Don’t give up.’ Max stepped even closer to Tia. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked intently into her face. ‘You hear me. Don’t give up. Never.’

Was he talking about the search, or was he telling her not to give up on herself? Tia wasn’t sure. His hands seemed to almost burn into her shoulders with the intensity of his feelings. His determination and his hope. She so much wanted to believe.

The rain had intensified; it was falling almost like a solid wall, blurring their view of the rest of the campground. Isolating them. Tia felt an overwhelming desire to take that final half step forward, so Max could put his arms around her. So she could lean into his chest and draw strength and comfort from him. And if he wanted to kiss her …

A sudden burst of blinding light followed instantly by a crash of thunder caused them both to jump. Max let his hands fall and Tia felt almost bereft.

‘Did you ever hear that song,’ Max said. ‘It’s an old song called “Little Boy Lost”. It was a hit back in the sixties. And no, I’m not that old, but I remember my parents playing it. Mum loved it.’ He hummed a few bars.

‘Don’t give up the day job.’ Tia had to smile.

‘The point is that it tells a true story of a little boy who went missing in the mountains of New South Wales. He was only four or five years old. I read about it at the academy. It was the biggest search in Australia’s history. Four days and three nights. They finally found him with the help of an aboriginal tracker. Found him alive. If they did it – so can we. We will find Renee. I won’t stop until we do.’

Tia watched his face as he talked. She saw the passion there and determination. Max really cared. An honest cop who cared about people. Why hadn’t she come face to face with someone like Max when she was a runaway and lost in the squats and squalor and the gangs on the wrong side of the tracks?

As quickly as it had arrived, the storm was passing. The rain had eased and the darkness was lifting into a dim twilight. Within minutes the campsite was steaming as the rainwater evaporated or sank into the parched earth.

‘I’m going to get some searchers out, make use of this last bit of light,’ Max said. ‘If she was asleep, the storm would have woken her up. They won’t get too far before we lose the light altogether. But we have to try.’

He set off across the campground to where weary searchers were struggling out of the cars they had sheltered in. The door of the motorhome opened, and a man emerged to join them. Tia saw the reporter snapping photographs – but from a distance. He was obviously taking Max’s warning to heart. She was tempted to stay in her shelter. Stay hidden. No. She’d had enough of hiding. Instead, she followed Max, notebook in hand, ready to take down the names of the searchers.

Max woke in the pre-dawn darkness, to the sound of someone sobbing. He lay for a moment, listening and gathering his sleep-scattered thoughts. He was lying inside his search headquarters, his head resting on a rolled up jacket. The folding table with radio and clipboards and empty water bottles was almost within arm’s reach. He lay still for a minute, knowing that when he did move, every bone in his body would hurt from sleeping on a hard earth floor.

Last night, the exhausted and disheartened searchers had stumbled back into camp just after full darkness had fallen. Once they had all checked in, it had been Max’s duty to knock on the door of the motorhome and tell the Haywoods that the search was over for the day. It would resume in the morning. He had backed quietly out of the door, leaving the family alone with their fear and pain. He’d also made damn sure that reporter didn’t disturb them.

The searchers had clustered around the food tent, where Sarah and Tia had dished out food and water and sympathy. Not one of them so much as suggested going home. Every single one had found a place to snatch a few hours rest. Exhausted as they were, they would all be ready to start again at first light.

These were good people. The very best.

Max slowly lifted his aching body into a sitting position and looked around. The first thing he saw was Tia.

She was asleep beside him. Close enough that he could simply reach out and brush that lovely red hair from her face. A few of the searchers had thought to bring blankets or sleeping bags with them. He’d made sure Tia got one. It had been well after midnight when she finally curled up and dropped almost instantly into a heavy sleep. Like the rest of them, she’d had a restless night. She had pushed the blanket aside and her clothes were rucked and rumpled. He could easily see the tattoo that disappeared so enticingly under the fabric of her top, but in the darkness, he couldn’t quite make out what it was. She’d kicked off her boots and socks, and her bare feet twitched a little as she slept.

Max could have spent an hour there, just watching her sleep. Everything about her moved him. The sexy tattoo and those shapely feet. The luscious dark red hair, that even tangled and unkempt made his fingers ache to touch it. She was smart and funny. She cared about people too, even though she tried to hide it. And there was that vulnerability about her. She was running away from something. He didn’t have to be a policeman to know that. When he got back to Coorah Creek, he could run some more checks through the police system. But he knew he wouldn’t. Tia had to let go. More than anything, he wanted Tia to trust him enough to tell him what she was running from. Or maybe who she was running from. He couldn’t help her until she was ready to help herself.

He heard the sobbing again and for one moment thought it was Tia. But she lay softly sleeping. Careful not to disturb her, Max got to his feet. Stepping out of the tent, he stretched to ease the aches from his body and looked around.

The little boy, Dustin, was sitting on the steps of the motorhome, sobbing as if his heart was breaking. Max felt a surge of sympathy. This must be so hard for him. He was about to head over to the child when he saw someone approaching from the direction of some parked cars. It was Pete. Max watched the truck driver take a seat next to the boy and place his arms around those shaking shoulders. The boy turned his face into the man’s chest, and cried for his sister.

Max looked up at the sky. Stars still shone in the inky blackness, but in the east there was maybe the faintest suggestion of light. Dawn wasn’t far away. He needed to start planning. Despite what he’d said to Tia, if they didn’t find Renee today …

Max was beginning to feel desperate for a cup of coffee, when the sound of approaching engines began waking the sleeping searchers. One by one they struggled to their feet. Syd Warren emerged quickly from the first car and began carrying boxes to the food tent which his wife had run the day before. Within minutes, he had a gas fire burning and the rich smell of coffee began to waft across the campsite.

‘Thanks,’ Max said as Syd handed him the first steaming tin mug. ‘Trish staying in town today?’

‘Yep. She was pretty exhausted yesterday. We’re neither or us as young as we used to be. She’s got the phones though if you need her.’

‘Thanks for coming out. You’ve got no idea how much I needed this.’ Max raised the coffee mug. ‘In fact, can I grab another one for Tia before you get swamped?’

The waking search teams were gathering around, drawn by the smell of coffee and the chance of food.

Max carried the two mugs back to his search HQ, where Tia was now on her feet, talking to her boss, Chris Powell.

‘Hi, Chris,’ Max said, handing a mug to Tia. She sent him a grateful look.

‘I’ve got everyone who’s not needed at the mine with me,’ Chris said. ‘I figured some fresh eyes might help. Jess is staying at the airstrip. The plane is refuelled and ready to go … just in case.’

‘Good,’ said Max.

‘I brought Grandpa Pindarri too. He’s over there.’

Max looked across the campsite. An impossibly old aboriginal man was standing staring out into the bush. Two younger men were beside him.

‘It looks like he’s already started,’ Max said. ‘I’d better go talk to him and find out where he wants me to concentrate the search.’

‘Max …’ Tia stepped to his side. She was watching the old man. ‘Today, I want to go out there. I’m fresher than some of the others. I can help.’

Max nodded. ‘Yes, you can. Sarah hurt her ankle yesterday. She doesn’t want to make a fuss, but she was limping when she got back. I’ll get her to take over the HQ and you can go with Pete. Maybe you’ll bring us good luck.’