by Jane Harper
‘How were the five of you selected for the trip?’ Falk said.
‘It’s a random mix of pay grades and experience to develop cross-company teamwork.’
‘And how about the real reason?’
Jill gave a small smile. ‘The management team selects employees who it believes are in need of some professional or personal development through the challenge.’
‘The management team being who? Yourself? Daniel?’
‘Not me. Daniel, yes. The heads of department, mainly.’
‘And what developmental traits was this group hoping to gain?’
‘Bree McKenzie’s in line for promotion, so this is part of her advancement program. Her sister –’ Jill stopped. ‘Have you met Beth?’
Falk and Carmen nodded.
‘Well, then. I probably need say no more. She’s not very . . . corporate. Someone probably thought it would help having her sister there, but I think they overestimated how close those two are.’ Jill pursed her lips. ‘Lauren – this won’t go any further, will it? – she’s been having performance issues. I understand she’s had some problems at home, but it’s been impacting her work.’
‘And Alice?’
There was a silence. ‘She’d had a complaint lodged against her.’
‘For what?’
‘Is this relevant?’
‘I don’t know,’ Falk said. ‘She’s still missing. So it might be.’
Jill sighed. ‘Bullying. Technically. But it’s possibly just a sharp exchange of words. Alice can be blunt. And that’s all highly confidential, by the way. The other women don’t know.’
‘Is there any merit in the complaint?’ Carmen said.
‘It’s hard to say. It was one of the administration assistants so it could be a personality clash as much as anything but –’ She stopped. ‘It wasn’t the first time. A similar issue was flagged two years ago. It came to nothing, but management felt Alice might benefit from some intensive teamwork. Another reason why I couldn’t let her leave that first night.’
Falk considered this. ‘And what about you?’ he said. ‘Why were you out there?’
‘In our latest senior management meeting we agreed to commit to taking part in something every year. If there’s a deeper reason, you’d have to ask the rest of the management committee.’
‘Same for your brother Daniel?’
‘Daniel actually enjoys it, believe it or not. But he’s right. It’s important for the company that he and I are seen to get involved.’
‘Get your hands dirty,’ Falk said.
Jill didn’t blink. ‘I suppose so.’
There was a loud bang from the hallway as the lodge door blew open. They heard the sound of feet and someone shutting it again firmly.
‘I guess there are a lot of obligations that come with working for a family firm,’ Carmen said. ‘You can’t just hide away. Your brother said something similar.’
‘Did he?’ Jill said. ‘Well, that’s certainly true. I studied English and Art History for my first degree. I wanted to be a humanities teacher.’
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing happened. It’s a family firm, and members of the family are expected to work for the company. In that respect we’re no different from a farming family, or a couple passing on their corner shop to their children. You need people you can trust. I work there, Daniel works there, our father’s still involved. Daniel’s son Joel will work there after university.’
‘And you? Do you have children?’ Falk said.
‘I do. Two. Grown up now.’ She paused. ‘But they’re an exception. They didn’t have any interest in going into the business and I wouldn’t make them. Dad wasn’t pleased, but he got the rest of us, so I think that’s a fair exchange.’ Jill’s expression softened a little. ‘My children both got to be teachers.’
‘That’s nice,’ Carmen said. ‘You must be proud.’
‘Thank you, I am.’
Falk looked at her. ‘Getting back to the retreat, your brother and the men’s group came to your camp on that first night. Did you know they were planning to do that?’
‘No.’ Jill shook her head. ‘And I would have told Daniel not to if I’d known. It was . . . unnecessary. I didn’t want the other women to feel like the men were checking up on us.’
‘And your brother spoke to Alice Russell that night.’
‘There were only ten of us. I think most people spoke to each other.’
‘Apparently he spoke to her privately,’ Falk said.
‘That’s allowed.’
‘Do you know what it was about?’
‘I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask him.’
‘We’d love to,’ said Carmen. ‘But he’s left.’
Jill said nothing, but the very edge of her tongue flicked out again to touch the cut on her lip.
‘So you didn’t notice Alice seeming particularly upset or uneasy after they spoke?’ Carmen said.
‘Of course not. Why would she be?’
‘Because she asked you to let her leave,’ Carmen said. ‘At least twice.’
‘Well. Like I said, if I’d let everyone leave who wanted to, there would have been none of us left.’
‘We understand it created some tension between the two of you.’
‘Who told you that? Everyone was tense out there. It was a very difficult situation.’
Jill picked up her cold coffee cup from the table and held it. Falk couldn’t quite tell if her hands were shaking.
‘How did you bruise your face?’ Falk said. ‘It looks quite bad.’
‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Jill set down her cup so hard it sent the liquid sloshing over the edge. ‘What is that question supposed to imply?’
‘Nothing. It’s just a question.’
Jill looked from Falk to Carmen and back again. She sighed. ‘It was an accident. It happened on the final night in the cabin when I was breaking up a stupid argument.’
‘What kind of argument?’ Falk said.
‘A lot of fuss over nothing. I’ve told the state police this. Frustration and fear bubbled over and got the better of us. We’re talking shoving and hair-pulling for a couple of seconds at most. Schoolyard stuff. It ended almost as soon as it began.’
‘It doesn’t look like it.’
‘I was unlucky. I was standing in the wrong place and I took a bit of a knock. It wasn’t deliberate.’
‘Who was the fight between?’ Falk watched her closely. ‘All of you?’
‘God, no.’ Jill’s swollen face was a picture of surprise. ‘It was between Alice and Beth. We were all cold and hungry and Alice was threatening to leave, and that’s when things boiled over. I blame myself, I should have seen it coming. Those two never got along.’
Day 2: Friday Afternoon
Jill’s teeth chattered as she walked. She had changed into dry clothes back at the river – they all had, turning their backs on each other while they shivered and stripped – only for another sheet of rain to sweep through twenty minutes later. She would have liked to have walked a little faster to warm up, but she could see Lauren was still shaky on her feet. The plaster from the first aid kit kept peeling off her forehead, exposing a bloody gash.
Alice was out in front, map in hand. Bree had surrendered it on the river bank without a word. Beth, as usual, was bringing up the rear.
It was strange, Jill thought, how much the bushland started to look alike. Twice she’d spotted something – once a stump, the other time a fallen tree – which she was sure she remembered from earlier. It was like walking in a semi-constant sense of déjà vu. She shifted her pack on her shoulders. It was lighter without the tent poles, but their absence was weighing heavy on her mind.
‘Are we still all right?’ Jill said as they slowed to pick their way around a muddy ditch.
Alice took out the compass and looked at it. She turned to face the other way and looked at it again.
‘All right?’ Jill said again.
‘Yes, w
e’re fine. It’s because the track curved back there. But this is right.’
‘I thought we were supposed to be reaching higher ground.’ The ground beneath their feet was overgrown, but stubbornly flat.
A voice came from behind. ‘We need to check the compass more regularly, Alice.’ Lauren had her hand pressed to the plaster on her forehead.
‘I just did. You saw me do it.’
‘But you need to do it often.’
‘I know that, thanks, Lauren. You’re free to step up and take over at any time, if you want.’ Alice held the compass in the flat of her hand, like an offering. Lauren hesitated, then shook her head.
‘Let’s keep moving,’ Alice said. ‘We’ll be starting to climb soon.’
They walked on. The ground remained flat. Jill was on the verge of asking how soon was ‘soon’, when she felt the telltale burn in her thighs. They were ascending. Gently, but on a definite uphill slope. She felt like crying with relief. Thank God. With any luck there would be a phone signal at the top. They could call someone. They could pull the pin on this whole mess.
The fear had started to crystallise back at the river bank, with a quality she had felt perhaps two or three times in her life. A realisation: This is very wrong. That car crash when she was nineteen, when she watched the other driver’s eyes grow wide and white as their vehicles slid towards each other in a macabre dance. Then again, three years later, at only her second office Christmas party. Too much to drink, too much flirtation with the wrong man and a walk home that had nearly ended badly.
And then there was that peculiar day when her father had welcomed her and Daniel into his private office – the one at home, not the one at work – and explained exactly how the BaileyTennants family business worked.
Jill had said no. She had sometimes taken comfort in that in the following years. Daniel had said yes straight away, but she had held firm for nearly eighteen months. She had enrolled in a teacher training course and sent her apologies for family gatherings.
She’d believed for a while that her decision had been accepted. Only later did she realise she was simply being given space to make the slow march towards the inevitable in her own time. But something must have happened to speed things up – she never asked what – because after eighteen months, she’d been summoned again to her father’s office. Alone, this time. He’d sat her down.
‘You’re needed. I need you.’
‘You have Daniel.’
‘And he’s doing his best. But . . .’ Her father, who she’d loved and trusted most in the world, had looked at her and given a small shake of his head.
‘Then stop.’
‘We can’t.’ We, he’d said very clearly, not I.
‘You can.’
‘Jill.’ He’d taken her hand. She’d never seen him look so sad. ‘We can’t.’
She’d felt the tears burning in the back of her throat at that. For him, and an easy favour done a long time ago for the wrong people and the slippery chute he’d found behind that trapdoor. The greedy quick buck he had found himself still repaying decades later and a thousand times over. And for herself, and the teaching course she’d never finish, and the no that had to turn into a yes. But at least for a while, she would remind herself in the years to come, it had been a no.
Now, as Jill’s lungs burned and her legs ached, she tried to focus on the immediate task ahead. Every step uphill was a step closer to where they needed to be. She watched the back of Alice’s head, driving the group onward.
Five years ago, Jill had been chief financial officer and Alice was a candidate through to the third round of the interview stage. She was up against only one other applicant, a man with similar qualifications but arguably more direct experience. At the end of her interview, Alice had looked at the panel each in turn and said she could do the job, but only would for a four per cent increase in the offered starting salary. Jill had smiled to herself. Told them to hire her. Find the four per cent.
As they approached a bend in the path, Alice stopped and consulted the map. She waited until Jill caught up. The others were straggling a little way behind.
‘We should be at the top soon,’ Alice said. ‘Do you want to take a short break?’
Jill shook her head, the memory of the previous night’s stumble around a dark campsite still fresh. The day was getting on. She couldn’t remember what time the sun set, but she knew it was early. ‘Let’s keep going while we’ve still got the light. Have you checked the compass?’
Alice pulled it out and glanced at it.
‘All good?’
‘Yes. I mean, the path’s twisting a bit so it depends which way we’re facing, but we’re still on track.’
‘Okay. If you’re sure.’
Another check. ‘Yeah. I am.’
They carried on.
Jill hadn’t regretted her hiring decision. Certainly not the four per cent. Alice had proved herself to be worth more, over the years. She was smart, she got the lie of the land quicker than most and she understood things. Things like when to speak up and when to hold her tongue, and that was important in a firm that was more like a family. When Jill’s nephew – seventeen-year-old Joel, who was so much like his dad at that age – had looked sullenly over the trestle tables at last year’s company picnic and blinked at the sight of Alice’s beautiful daughter, Jill and Alice had exchanged knowing looks. Jill sometimes thought that in another time and place, she and Alice might have been friends. At other times, she thought not. Being around Alice was like owning an aggressive breed of dog. Loyal when it suited, but you had to stay on your toes.
‘Are we nearly there?’
Jill heard Lauren’s voice behind her. The woman’s plaster had peeled loose again and a single pink trail of rain and blood had dripped down her temple and cheek, settling in the corner of her mouth.
‘Nearly at the top. I think.’
‘Do we have any water?’
Jill took out her own bottle and passed it to Lauren, who took a deep swig as they walked. Lauren’s tongue flicked to the corner of her mouth, and she grimaced as it found the blood. She cupped her hand and poured water into her palm, some escaping onto the ground, and rinsed her cheek.
‘Maybe we should –’ Jill started to say as Lauren went to repeat the process, but bit her words short.
‘Maybe what?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She had been going to say maybe they should preserve their fresh water. But there was no need. There were more supplies at the campsite. And Jill was not yet ready to admit that they might be spending the night anywhere else.
The path rose steadily steeper and Jill could hear the breathing around her grow heavy. The sloping land to their right fell away at a sharper angle until it was a hill, and then a cliff side. Jill kept her eyes straight ahead, pushing up one step after another. She had lost track of how high they’d climbed when, almost without warning, the path levelled out.
The gum trees gave way and they came face to face with a magnificent vista of rolling hills and valleys, stretching out beneath them right to the horizon. Shadows from shifting clouds created an ocean of green that rippled like waves. They had reached the top and it was breathtaking.
Jill dropped her pack on the ground. The five women stood side by side, hands on hips, legs aching, catching their breath as they surveyed.
‘This is incredible.’
Almost on cue, the clouds parted, revealing the sun hanging low in the distance. It touched the very tips of the uppermost trees, engulfing them in a blazing watery glow. Jill blinked as the welcome golden light blinded her, and she could almost imagine she could feel the heat on her face. For the first time that day, she felt a weight lift from her chest.
Alice had taken her phone from her pocket and was looking at the screen. She was frowning, but that was all right, Jill told herself. Even if they had no signal, it would be okay. They would get to the second campsite, they would get dry, they would work something out with the shelter. The
y would get some sleep, and everything would look better in the morning.
Jill heard a dry cough behind her.
‘Sorry,’ Beth said. ‘But which direction are we walking in again?’
‘West.’ Jill looked over.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Towards the campsite.’ Jill turned to Alice. ‘That’s right, isn’t it? We’re going west?’
‘Yep. West.’
‘So we’ve been walking west the whole time?’ Beth said. ‘Since we left the river?’
‘Christ. Yes. I already said.’ Alice didn’t glance up from her phone.
‘Then –’ A pause. ‘Sorry. It’s just – if this way is west, then why is the sun setting in the south?’
Every face turned, just in time to see the sun drop another notch below the trees.
That was the other thing about Alice, Jill thought. Sometimes she could make you feel so bloody betrayed.
Chapter 12
The light was starting to go by the time Falk and Carmen left Jill Bailey in the lounge, alone with her thoughts. They headed back along the path to the cabins with the early calls of the evening chorus echoing around them.
‘It gets dark so early up here.’ Carmen checked her watch, the wind catching her hair. ‘I suppose the trees block the light.’
They could see vans pulling up outside the lodge and weary rescue workers climbing out. Their breath formed clouds in the air. Still no good news, judging by their faces. The skies were quiet now; the chopper must have landed. Hope was fading with the day.
Falk and Carmen reached their cabin doors and stopped.
‘I’m going to take a shower. Warm up a bit.’ Carmen stretched and Falk heard her joints crack beneath the layers. It had been a long couple of days. ‘Meet for dinner in an hour?’
With a wave she disappeared inside. Falk unlocked his own door and turned on the light.
Through the wall, he heard the sound of running water starting up.
He sat on the bed and ran over the conversation with Jill Bailey. She had an alertness about her that her brother didn’t. It made Falk feel uneasy.
