Georgie watched Sam’s disappearing back, her stomach burning with scotch, shock and a fierce sense of urgency.
We have to bring Hanny home safely. For Horner now, on top of everything else.
She grabbed Josh’s arm. ‘Where are the van keys?’
‘Inside.’
‘Get them. Tell Lunny we’ll be out for a bit.’
He didn’t ask; she’d explain on the way that they had to find consistent phone and net service fast.
Every blink embedded a new layer of fire and grit into Franklin’s eyes. For a few moments he let them close, as he rubbed at the tension knotted in his temples. The murmur of voices within the station reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this. There’d been plenty of times in his career, particularly during the past couple of years, when he’d chosen to work alone. As his mates liked to rib him, he’d played the ‘maverick’ cop.
But the life of a local kid hadn’t been at stake. So it was bloody marvellous to hear voices and be able to identify each one.
Maeve still floated about, offering sensible suggestions as frequently as she passed around another tray of food or coffees. Franklin’s partner for the arvo shift was out on a job and most of the others who’d been there all day had wandered home, promising to be back at dawn.
But Slam and Harty had stayed on and they didn’t have any plans to leave.
Danni had dug in for the long haul too. She sat in Lunny’s office using his PC to review the private messages between Rikki and Wylder, while monitoring Facebook for anything new on Rikki’s page. She also watched the Where’s Hannah, Riley and Cooper? page that’d been renamed Where’s Hannah? When she’d begged to do more, Franklin only just convinced her that dedicated eyes with local knowledge to these tasks were priceless.
The other three worked in the muster room and with all the station’s computers in use, the system struggled. Franklin cursed at the spinning circle on his computer: still trying to connect.
As a new gig guide slowly loaded, he grew increasingly wound up.
C’mon Georgie, ring back.
Meanwhile, Slam and Harty kept up a running commentary.
‘Hairydick Sikorski. Quality friends.’
‘I can better that, Slam.’
Franklin snorted. ‘You can?’
Harty laughed, too loudly, wired by caffeine and adrenaline like the rest of them. ‘PussyBreath. She must’ve accepted every loser that sent a friend request.’
Franklin’s headshake triggered a run of clicks up his neck.
I’m going to ban Kat from social media. It’s toxic.
He squinted at his mate’s screen. The boys were checking the ‘about’ section for each of Rikki’s friends before scrutinising pics of the page owners, imagining them older or younger, with different hair or facial fuzz and in different garb, before taking a squiz at their main friends. So far, they’d recognised no one.
Harty clicked his keyboard, tapping his pen on the desk while waiting for the computer to think. Franklin turned to the guide finally filling his screen. It hadn’t been revised since May last year.
‘This is bloody useless.’
A rolled-up piece of paper thumped his head.
Slam grinned. His red-raw eyes made him look weirder than usual. ‘Harden up, princess.’
Franklin bowled the paper ball back, collecting his mate on the nose. He cheered but stewed.
We’re just treading water. Ealding’s our man. We need to track him down.
Chapter 54
Hannah
Hannah had done a kind of somersault through the window and landed on her back. She lay on the ground for ages, trying to breathe, feeling around to see if she’d done any major damage.
Bits of glass were embedded in her skin. She pulled some out but couldn’t do much about the little pieces in deep, mainly in her left cheek and her left hand. Luckily, she’d had the other hand covered with her hoodie sleeve. There was a massive shard in her left thigh just above the knee and her leggings were already wet with blood. The glass was really stuck and she had to leave it there, managing to stand without pushing it in further.
Once she was upright, blood gushed down her face. Some ran into the side of her mouth and she gagged, spitting it out as she moved.
The dog was barking inside the house and that was the only thing that gave her any idea what direction to run in – away from that. Except it wasn’t much of a run. She kept tripping on potholes or getting tangled in scrub. Both her legs felt jellyish and her left one really hurt. The dog was going so berko she worried that it’d break through the lounge room window and come after her. Her blood trail would make it dead easy.
And if the dog didn’t get her, she’d probably fall down one of the mineshafts Ealdy had joked about. Maybe she’d fall on top of the other girl. Who was probably dead by now.
They skirted the tree by mounting the bank and made it back to the Tourist Road, which was virtually deserted. Tall silhouettes of gumtrees whipped past in her peripheral vision as Georgie stared out the windscreen. Josh was pushing the minivan at about eighty Ks – fast for the windy road, but he anticipated the curves well. Might’ve been the natural athlete in him.
She monitored her phone. Service came and went, but there was nowhere to stop when she had full bars.
‘Pull over when you can.’
Josh nodded. He barely slowed for the next corner, succeeded in controlling the van, although it got the shakes.
She glanced at him and watched the knuckles of his jaw work. Then it suddenly made sense: his behaviour, the detectives’ pity.
‘This is personal for you, isn’t it?’
‘Of course. Hanny’s a good kid.’
‘No, it’s more.’
Josh took another corner. Finally, he said. ‘Yes.’
Georgie gave him space. He’d talk when he was ready. She cranked down the side window and let the cold draught fan her face, wondering how all this was going to end.
He cut into her thoughts. ‘My dad died when I was seven.’
This time she filled his pause, hoping it would encourage him to open up. ‘I was eleven when mine died.’
‘Was he a good dad?’
Memories fade and she sometimes stressed over the things she’d forgotten. But her go-to vision of her dad was at Mentone beach about a year before he got the cancer and he was boogie boarding with her and her sister, Erin. They played where the waves crashed in – lots of rough and tumble between Georgie and Dad, with obligatory squealing from Erin. Livia was under a sun umbrella on the sand reading a novel; Mum only went in for quick dips.
She smiled. ‘The best.’
Josh almost smiled. ‘Nah, yours couldn’t have been…mine was. I always wanted to be just like him. That’s why I box.’
‘Yeah?’
‘He was really good.’ Josh accelerated saying, ‘It was a dumb car accident. Nobody even to blame.’ His hands tensed on the wheel. ‘Mum fell apart. Then a couple of years later, she started going out.’
‘Dating?’
He grunted. ‘Next thing I knew, this bloke that I was supposed to call Uncle Larry moved in.’
Georgie had already figured out Josh’s story, but hated that she’d been right.
‘I don’t want to go into details.’ His voice held a low rumble she’d never heard before.
He shot her a glance and she nodded.
Eyes forward again, he said, ‘But when I told Mum what he’d been doing, she didn’t believe me. Or that’s what she said. Not long after that, she dumped me with some friend of hers and I never saw her again.’
‘And you?’
‘One foster home after another. Some were okay. Most sucked.’ He shrugged. ‘I got out when I could, found Dad’s old trainer and things turned around.’
He suddenly indicated and pulled left, braking in front of a small playground and, with a sharp yank on the handbrake, their conversation was over.
Georgie squeezed his shoulder to show she commise
rated.
‘Enough service?’
‘Yeah, ta.’ She plugged at her mobile.
Franklin rolled back from his desk and gazed at his two mates slogging their hearts out. It was outside odds that their efforts would come to anything, but they were 150 per cent invested. Just like him.
It struck him that they weren’t just doing it for Hanny. They were also doing it for him. And between them, they’d bent and broken so many rules that no matter what happened, shit would hit the fan later.
‘This was all me. You blokes had nothing to do with it.’
Bleary eyes turned his way.
‘As far as the brass is concerned, you’d clocked off before I went maverick.’
His comment only raised weak smiles and he insisted, ‘You’re not stuffing up your careers for me. Anything that hasn’t been by the book, you didn’t know about. Understood?’
Harty shook his head and Slam waved him off.
Franklin rubbed his chin, bristles rasping. Feeling guilty, he couldn’t help second-guessing his decisions.
‘We’ve still got jack tying Ealding to Hannah’s disappearance…or Zena Betka’s. If we give CI the heads-up, they could go gung ho or procrastinate.’
Harty tapped a finger to his lip. ‘The Ds could make urgent application for a data warrant to access Wylder’s Facebook account.’
‘I’m sure they will have crosschecked Rikki’s Facebook friends by now, thanks to her loose privacy settings, and jumped on Haydn with the same spelling as her phone contact. They undoubtedly already have things in motion.’ Franklin countered, ‘But Manthorp is still waiting on access to Rikki’s page, so getting into Haydn Wylder’s will take days or longer to come through. And they have to join the dots from Wylder to Ealding… In the meantime, Hanny’s with the prick and fuck knows what he’s doing to her.’
His mates looked grim too.
Chapter 55
Georgie eyed the green dot next to Wylder’s avatar on the right of her screen. She told Josh, ‘He’s online.’
She stared at her phone, considering how to play it. AJ took her profile picture four years ago. Her long wavy hair was in a ponytail under a baseball cap and huge sunnies covered most of her face. Not surprisingly, she wore a singlet top under her favourite black leather jacket—the one she had on tonight—with jeans, and she might pass for twenty-two; much older than Hannah or Zena, yet eight years off her real age.
She browsed through some of Wylder’s 3,577 friends. Most were females and they ranged from obviously underage to mid-twenties. They varied broadly in looks and ethnicity, so she banked on him being addicted to the hunt more than a specific type.
It’s the only way this’ll work.
Josh angled towards her in the driver’s seat.
She met his almost-black eyes. ‘I don’t have time to play coy. Let’s hope he likes some of his girls older, forward and flirty.’
He nodded.
‘If I stuff this up, it could scare him underground.’
‘You won’t.’
‘Hey, cutie.’ Georgie read aloud as she typed. ‘What ya up to tonite?’
An ellipsis popped up in the messaging box.
‘He’s answering straight back.’
‘He’s keen.’ Josh sounded appalled.
Georgie watched the ellipsis and called Franklin.
‘He’s hooked.’
She waited for Franklin to reply, hearing voices in the background and his breaths through the receiver.
‘Do you know where he is?’
He sounded weird and she understood. So much rode on this.
‘Not yet. Hang on.’
She checked Wylder’s reply.
Very clever, you slimy bastard.
He said he was keen to get to know her. Nothing pushy or sleazy – he obviously saved that for later.
She typed: ‘I’m bored. Wanna do something?’ A shiver ran across her shoulders.
‘You there?’ she asked Franklin.
‘Yep.’
‘Keep your fingers crossed.’
He didn’t answer.
A beep signalled Wylder’s reply: he was at the ‘Shenny in Baysie’. She Googled it. Assuming he meant the nearby suburb of Bayswater, there was a pub called Shenanigans on Colchester Road. It claimed to showcase Australia’s best new musos, before they’re big. That tallied. And because her profile put her at well over eighteen, he didn’t have to muck around with milkshake dates – though he was posing as underage.
Franklin said, ‘What’s happening?’
‘Hang on.’ She asked Josh, ‘Where are we?’
He said, ‘Montrose,’ just as she spotted a sign in the playground next to them.
She checked a map. They were about ten minutes from the pub and she typed back to Wylder, ‘Cool. Be there soon.’
She sweated on whether he’d fall for it. How would he manage the bait-and-switch as a fictitious sixteen-year-old? Would it backfire once he saw her in person and guessed her age?
Georgie ruffled through the console and found a rubber band. She raked her hair into a high ponytail, wisping strands over her forehead and the sides of her face. The top under her jacket showed good cleavage but she wasn’t particularly big, so she stuffed tissues into her bra, hoping her boobs would distract him.
Josh laughed softly.
She’d have to fake not recognising Ealding. But that wouldn’t be as hard as flirting face-to-face with the predator who’d taken Hanny and might’ve killed Zena Betka.
How the hell will I get what I need out of him without showing my hand?
Excitement and dread increased with every second that Wylder delayed answering.
She prompted him with, ‘Is there a band on?’
Facebook finally beeped again.
She read his reply aloud. ‘“Yeh, my mates hav a second set coming up meet ya at front door.”’
‘Georgie?’
She’d almost forgotten about Franklin and updated him. ‘I’m meeting him in ten minutes.’
‘What the fuck?’
Chapter 56
Hannah
Hannah had fallen into a half-limp, half-jog. She had no idea how far she’d gone – probably not very because it was hard going. The cut above her knee hurt a lot and she tried not to think about the blood running down her face. She went woozy again and was having trouble breathing – because she was so panicky, she was panting.
She leaned against a tree and blocked the rottie’s noise, listening for a car or sounds of people, providing they weren’t Ealdy and Dicko.
Trees and plants swished in the wind. Snaps and rustles made her think animals were close and something was following her. A fox or kanga? She strained but couldn’t hear any helpful sounds.
She’d thought the dog would get bored and give up after a while. But it kept howling – no screaming, like someone was stabbing it.
She shivered. The dog going berko was sort of a good thing because it might make someone nice come along to help her. But it sounded like it wanted her blood and she imagined it’d enjoy tearing her apart if it got her.
Her teeth chattered. Not because it was freezing.
Franklin’s pulse drummed in his ears. Everything had gone pear shaped. Georgie had refused to back out and would be meeting this Ealding scumbag in less than two minutes. Gunner’s ETA at the pub was at worst thirty minutes and twenty-five at best. Georgie was on her own in the meantime, aside from Josh. The boxer was a good ally but he was too young and not enough backup on his own.
Franklin wished she’d stuck to the plan and connected with Ealding, extracting as much info as possible before building up to an organised sting. Instead, she’d gone off half-cocked.
I need to be down there. This side of the investigation dried up when I got what we needed out of Hanny’s friends.
He still had the bullies to question, along with Hannah’s wider network of school and boxing acquaintances. But in reality, that would all be timewasting.
W
hile Hanny had set off the chain of events from home, this case now spread through cyberspace to Mount Dandenong and wherever she was taken after she left her brothers in the National Park. Everything had happened far distant to here. The chances that she had ended up back in Daylesford were beyond remote.
Ealding was their man. They just needed to track him to Hanny.
Franklin’s instincts were to mount the Ninja and gun the bike back to Melbourne. But he’d be out of the loop while he rode and he’d arrive in Bayswater far too late.
‘Need some air.’ The sarge walked past Sam. ‘And service to ring Jules.’ He waved his mobile around. ‘Express my sympathy about Bradley Horner –’
He disappeared from sight but she heard him murmuring, and in a few minutes he returned moving briskly. He stopped beside her saying, ‘Jules and her team are still at the command post. Past midnight and more determined than ever.’
There was only kindness in Lunny’s gaze, but Sam blushed and swiped away her tears.
‘I just touched base with Franklin too.’
He filled her in on Georgie’s liaison with their prime suspect.
Sam’s eyes stretched. ‘It could go horribly wrong.’
Lunny gave a grim nod, then a small smile. ‘If any civvy can pull it off, it’s Georgie.’
‘Why can’t we hand it over to Sex Crimes? Ealding might already be on their radar.’
‘We know the Marzena Betka taskforce, at least, is looking at Haydn Wylder, from Georgie’s tipoff.’ Lunny fiddled with his gold wedding band. ‘It’s possible they have connected that alias to Ealding or had complaints about him under his real name. Although, it can take hundreds of silent vics before one speaks out. He might’ve gone unreported indefinitely if we hadn’t stumbled across him.’
Hundreds of vics means numerous serious offences.
Sam tasted bile as the sarge went on. ‘To find out what the Ds know about him, we’d have to share the intel we have, which we can’t do because we didn’t get to Ealding via kosher procedure, which means it’s inadmissible and insufficient…so no clear run at Ealding.’ His eyes revealed his frustration and anger. ‘Every delay is costing time we don’t have. And you’ve been a cop long enough to know that sex crime investigations don’t move quickly.’
Into the Fog Page 29
