Cold Valley Nightmare

by Anna Willett

  Smiley’s lip curled in disgust as he searched the area for something to swing at the ugly black creature. When he took his eyes off the crow and bent to pick up a stick, he could hear its long claws scratching along the paintwork of his car.

  The Commodore was a twelve-year-old piece of shit, but it was his and the idea of the bird scratching the finish made him feel like he wanted to twist the creature’s head off its shoulders. Only he knew he wouldn’t do that, because that would mean touching the bird and somehow he knew the crow’s body would be slippery and hard in his hands. Like the dead bodies in the forest.

  Smiley straightened up and flung the stick at the crow, curling the projectile sideways with as much spin and force as he could muster. The creature let out a startled caw as the stick thumped into its chest. Wobbling to the right, the crow hopped a few steps then took flight. But instead of flying across the bonnet and out from under the tree, the bird swooped low and came within inches of Smiley’s face.

  He shrieked and stumbled back, almost losing his footing on the sandy patch of ground. The black feathers brushed his face and for a fraction of a second Smiley breathed in the creature’s earthy scent. It smelt like a grave, putrid and sweet. His stomach clenched and his bowels threatened to loosen. Suddenly convinced the bird would return and this time those feathers would beat at his face and work their way into his mouth, he scrambled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the car.

  Once inside, he let out a shuddering breath and locked the door. Nothing was going right, not since Mimi grabbed the boy. There was eighteen grand stashed under the useless spare tyre in the boot. He could drive away and keep going and leave Mimi and the boy behind and never look back. He slid the key into the ignition and started the engine. For a moment he stared blankly ahead, thinking of the crow and the way it had watched him. Maybe it was one of the birds he’d seen picking at the graves in Cold Valley. Maybe it followed me here.

  Without thinking, he looked over his shoulder, expecting a flurry of black wings. Instead, the old woman, Mimi’s aunty, stood behind the car. The rear window was stained with grime, making it hard to see the woman’s face, but Smiley was sure she had winked at him. Was the senility thing a trick? Did the old woman know what he’d done? She must know something or else why would she be winking at him?

  Sweat was building up on his neck and across his brow. He had to get away from the house, and from the old woman and the bird. Smiley threw the car into gear and floored the accelerator, sending up a cloud of dirt and making the Commodore lurch forward in a stilted jump.

  “Shit.” His voice in the empty car sounded shaky and high pitched, not the voice of someone who was top of the heap, but more like a frightened girl. He shook his head and droplets of sweat hit the dashboard. He’d forgotten to release the handbrake. The bird and the crazy old bitch didn’t know anything, how could they?

  As he coasted down the dirt driveway, Smiley lit another cigarette and forced himself to calm down. He’d covered his tracks in Cold Valley and he’d do the same here. With the money he’d get for the kid, he’d only have to work a few more chases and then he’d be set up. He could start his own operation. Nothing messy like the chase. Without realising it, he shivered.

  He’d seen a liquor shop on the main street. When he got to town, he intended to buy a bottle of rum – dark rum, not the cheap white crap. He fished a pill out of his jeans pocket and tossed it in his mouth, enjoying the bitter taste as it dissolved on his tongue. When he got home, he’d have a talk with Mimi, settle things once and for all. As he drove, Smiley nodded and the reason for his nickname appeared on his face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Have you noticed this woman around the town or on Hallows Lane?” Lucy held up her phone, showing Sadie a picture of the pregnant woman that she’d captured from the footage taken at the fête. The image was slightly pixelated, but clear enough to make out the woman’s features and dark hair.

  Sadie pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. Lucy could see the tension in Sadie’s thin frame as she studied the picture.

  “I…” Sadie let out a breath. “No. No, I don’t recognise her.” There was sorrow in her voice. “I should be more aware. You’d think I would be as a mother.”

  The last word shook and when she looked up there were tears shining in her eyes.

  Lucy was sitting beside Sadie at the kitchen table, both women nursing cups of instant coffee.

  “It’s not important,” she said.

  Lucy didn’t feel any guilt about lying to the woman. Silently she kept telling herself it was better to keep the lead as quiet as possible until she had more information. And what good would it do letting Sadie torture herself believing the person who abducted her son might have been hanging around while Sadie went unknowingly about her daily routine?

  Lucy patted Sadie’s hand. “There’s no reason to blame yourself, really. I’m just checking on a few people in the footage so we can discount them.”

  Sadie gave a nod and tucked a strand of lifeless hair behind her ear. “He’s been gone for nine days. It feels like nine years, but then other times it’s like a blink.” She picked up her cup and stared inside it, but seemed confused and set it down again. “Those bodies the police found in the forest, what does it mean?”

  The bodies were one of the reasons Lucy asked to visit Sadie. Larson’s contact still had nothing on the four graves. Lucy was hoping the cops might have given Sadie some information that might be useful.

  “What did the police tell you?” Lucy asked, avoiding Sadie’s question.

  Sadie managed a dry laugh. “Not much. The detectives working on Clem’s disappearance came by last night. The older one, Detective… Um...” Sadie rubbed a finger along her temple. “Lighnus,” she said. “He said they were all adults, three females and one male.”

  Lucy committed the detective’s name to memory, planning on following up with Larson and asking him if he knew the man. Still wanting to give nothing away, she picked up her cup and tried to keep her voice casual. “Did he say anything else? I mean about the bodies?”

  Sadie shook her head. She was wearing a fleecy pink jumper and black pants that looked like gym wear. The clothing looked overly large on Sadie’s body. Lucy wasn’t surprised Sadie had lost weight, maybe even since her last visit.

  “I’m ashamed to say once he told me Clem wasn’t one of them, I wasn’t really listening,” she said. “I know how selfish that sounds. Those people all must have families somewhere. Mothers desperate to find them.” Her lip quivered and she quickly looked away.

  Lucy followed her gaze to the window where grey skies edged the trees, casting the back of the house under a bleary gloom. When she had pulled up at the Wheelers’ house, she’d seen a police car parked at the end of the lane. No doubt there were more vehicles crowding the fire road. Forensics teams and uniformed officers would be combing the forest for days, if not weeks.

  “It doesn’t sound selfish. It sounds like you love your son,” Lucy said.

  The tears that were gathering in Sadie’s eyes spilled over her lower lids, making Lucy wish she’d thought of something better to say, something comforting. But without making false promises there was nothing more she could give the woman.

  Before leaving, she reminded Sadie to call her if she remembered seeing anyone that looked like the woman in the photo. She didn’t come right out and say ‘with or without the pregnant belly’, but just any dark-haired woman around the same age.

  As she approached the Saab, Robert Wheeler appeared from the side of the house and called her name. Lucy considered pretending she didn’t hear him and escaping into the car, but the man jogged across the front yard before she could put the idea into action.

  “Lucy.” He was out of breath from the short run and his cheeks were flushed. It struck Lucy as odd that he wore trainers and jogging pants, but clearly was unused to running. “Sadie told me you were looking for a dark-haired woman that was at the fête. I think I
saw her talking to Clem.”

  Lucy unlocked the car and opened the passenger door before acknowledging Wheeler’s presence. She gave him a tight smile while her mind worked over what he’d just said. Any way she looked at it, Wheeler had to be lying, at least about Sadie telling him about the dark-haired woman.

  It had taken Lucy less than fifteen seconds to say goodbye to Sadie and make it out of the house and half-way to her car. There was no way Sadie could have relayed the information about the woman at the fête in that time. No, Lucy was sure Wheeler had been lurking somewhere while she and Sadie discussed the pregnant woman. Lucy’s best guess was that Wheeler had been standing outside the back door, a perfect spot to eavesdrop, then race around the side of the house and catch her before she left.

  “You saw someone talking to Clem at the fête?” Lucy leaned her arm on the top of the door, using it as a barrier between her and Wheeler. “You didn’t mention it the last time we spoke.” The smile was still on her face and beginning to feel frozen.

  Wheeler ran a hand through his carefully tousled hair. “No, well, it seemed harmless. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

  His response reminded her of the conversation she’d had with Damon about how being pregnant made the woman seem non-threatening.

  “Did you hear what she said to Clem?”

  Wheeler jerked one shoulder. “No. I just remember her talking to him and when I saw them I called to Clem and the woman turned away. That’s when Sadie appeared and picked Clem up.” He hesitated, then added, “Do you think the dark-haired woman’s the one who took Clem?” The question came out in a rush as though he’d been holding it back, waiting for the right moment to ask. “I think we should say something to the police, get them looking for her instead of hassling me.” His gaze jumped from Lucy’s face to the end of the lane where a police car was parked.

  This, Lucy realised, was the reason he’d rushed out to speak to her. Wheeler was excited at the prospect of shifting the police’s focus off him and onto someone else. It reeked of guilt, the way he eavesdropped then approached her outside where his wife wouldn’t hear. But Lucy wasn’t sure if it was guilt over Clem’s disappearance or if Wheeler was up to his old tricks. He’d been charged with forgery in New South Wales and almost landed in prison. During her time reporting criminal cases, she had worked on numerous fraud reports. Forgery was usually the first step in setting up a more complicated attempt at fraud.

  She used a familiar technique and answered Wheeler’s question with a question of her own. “Did you ask Clem what the woman said to him?”

  “I… No, I didn’t.” He let his hands dangle at his side, one finger tapping on his thigh. “I might have later, but I was too upset about him wandering off.”

  “Yes, it must have been very scary to lose him like that.” She emphasised the word lose, hoping the jab would throw him off guard.

  “Yes, but, no. I didn’t lose him. He wandered away.” Wheeler’s voice was petulant and a muscle in his jaw bulged. “None of this is my fault. I’m sick of everyone trying to pin everything on me.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.” Lucy didn’t bother trying to cover the anger in her voice. “I’m trying to find your stepson. That’s my only concern and it should be yours.”

  Wheeler’s mouth opened then snapped shut as his eyes blinked like dual high-speed camera lenses. “It is. I want Clem back as much as anyone. I just… I just can’t take all this pressure.” He held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness. “Sadie won’t eat. She won’t sleep and she looks at me like…”

  As much as Lucy didn’t like or trust him, his distress seemed genuine and she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

  “Look, there’s nothing to tell the police, not at this stage.” She took a breath and softened her tone. “You can help Clem by thinking about the woman at the fête and trying to remember anything you saw that day. Anything Clem mentioned.”

  She waited for him to respond, but he simply nodded and stepped back from the car door.

  “Sadie has my number. If anything comes to mind, call me,” she said.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Lucy sat at a table in the corner of a café on Cold Valley’s main street. The place was warm and smelled of coffee and bacon, an aroma which made her stomach growl. She ordered a flat white and a chicken and cheese sandwich before firing off a text to Damon, letting him know where she was and asking him to meet her when he was done at Marina’s place.

  While she waited for a response and for her food to arrive, she opened her laptop and updated her chronological notes on the case, adding the information about the gender of the bodies found in the forest. After a brief pause, she typed the letter M and added a question mark. Wheeler wasn’t whiter than white. In fact, Lucy was sure he was hiding something, but her gut told her the woman Milly or Maddie – M – was the key to finding Clem.

  With no answer from Damon, she decided to call Larson and ask about Clem’s natural father. The call went to voicemail, so she left a brief message asking if the police had spoken to Clem’s father.

  As she ate and sipped coffee, she held her phone and pulled up the photograph of Clem wearing gum boots and a woolly jumper. The little boy’s smile was open and unguarded as though caught by surprise while having fun. He didn’t have the look of a child that was mistreated, but then the world is never that simple. Pain isn’t always evident on a person’s face. Lucy knew this better than most. She put the second half of her sandwich down after only one bite. If Clem was alive and with the woman from the fête, Lucy prayed he was being looked after and that surprised happy smile that Clem had wasn’t gone for good.

  Still in her hand, the phone bleeped with an incoming call. Reluctantly, she closed Clem’s photo.

  “The boy’s father was killed in a motorbike accident before Clem was born.” Larson’s voice was businesslike as he relayed the information. “Seabber, Robert Wheeler’s solicitor, told me the cops were pretty thorough and had even checked on Clem’s paternal grandparents, but it turns out they’re overseas on a cruise. The Caribbean, I think.”

  “Okay. Jesus, poor Sadie.”

  “Yeah. That woman’s been through a lot.”

  For a moment neither of them spoke, then Larson got back to business. “How’s it going? I’m still waiting to hear from Damon and Brock. Any leads on the woman from the fête?”

  Lucy looked at the computer screen. “Not on her, but Sadie mentioned a detective. His name’s Lighnus. He told her they found three females and one male body in the forest.”

  “Lighnus?” He drew the name out as if trying to make a connection. “No, don’t know him. I’ll speak to my contacts and see what I can find out. Anything else?”

  Lucy thought for a moment, wondering if Larson had contacts outside of the police force. “The foster mother, Marina Plick, do you know anyone who might have access to files or records on the children she fostered?” Lucy scrolled over her notes. “It would have been about fifteen years ago.”

  “Hm. Leave it with me. I’ll get back to you.” He was being cagey, but Lucy understood that accessing records from the Department of Child Protection was risky, and even old records were closely guarded.

  After hanging up she finished her coffee in two gulps. She thought about ordering a second, but decided to wait for Damon. Before closing her laptop she added the information about Clem’s natural father. She knew what it was like to lose someone in an accident. The sudden impact of the grief was paralysing. Just thinking about the way she lost her parents left her feeling off balance and disconnected from other people. For a long time she was almost swallowed by grief and anxiety.

  She pulled the penknife out of her pocket and worked the beads with her thumb and forefinger. Could grief and loneliness have driven Sadie to marry Robert Wheeler? Or maybe Sadie genuinely loved him.

  Still lost in thought, Lucy was startled when the phone beeped. She’d been expecting a call from Damon and was surpris
ed to see an unfamiliar number.

  “Lucy?” She recognised Janice Cutter’s voice. “I’ve been doing some research and I’ve found something you should see.” There was excitement in the woman’s tone. “If you’re still in Cold Valley, could you pop over?”

  Lucy’s stomach turned in another flip. This could be the break she’d been waiting for. “Give me your address.” Lucy was out of her chair and gathering her things as she spoke with the phone clamped between her chin and shoulder. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Boronia Street, only twelve kilometres from Hallows Lane, seemed darker somehow, shabby and neglected. Even the surrounding trees look rangy and sparse. Damon didn’t believe in anything supernatural, but he’d had experiences during his time in the military that led him to be open minded when it came to physical responses to certain places. As he and Brock walked the patchy driveway to Marina Plick’s home, his body was telling him to stay alert.

  He glanced sideways and noted that Brock’s shoulders were tight, and while his expression remained unchanged his eyes were moving between the trees and the house. He feels it, too. They’d both done their time in dangerous jobs. One of the reasons they worked well together was their mutual understanding of the need to draw on experience and instinct when approaching an unknown building or situation.

  As the house came into view Brock jerked his chin to the left, indicating a Ford Escort sitting in grille-high weeds.

  With a layer of streaky dust covering the windshield, the vehicle had a disused look. The house, a hulking brick rectangle supporting a ramshackle annex, looked as derelict as the car. But more than that, the property, with its decrepit car and junk-strewn front yard, seemed forgotten. A place overlooked by the rest of the world and being slowly reclaimed by the bush that surrounded it. When he knocked on the front door, Damon wasn’t surprised by the silence from within the house.