Page 14 of The Bait

“Those men would have had to provide ID to the car rental company. I want copies of passports, names, everything we can get.”

Deans spun in her chair and tapped away on her keyboard. “Already on it, boss.”

“I’ll draft up my report,” August said, not knowing what good it would do. But there were other agencies involved. Search and Rescue, Coffs Harbour police, Polair, the K9 squad. Sure, it was rugged wilderness, but they’d found no trace of anything or anyone, not that August expected them to. August wanted his report on the job fileand the other agencies reports logged in and officially on the record before ASIO came in and shut it down.

They all got busy at their desks. After calls with the search and rescue coordinator and Coffs’ office, August had his head down with his report and had lost track of time. When Jake and Deans appeared at his desk, August noticed it was dark outside.

Shit.

He was holding some papers, printouts by the look of them. “August,” he said quietly. “I asked Deans to run with the Parrish case, just googling information. It’s all public record anyway, so it’s not like we were digging...”

August looked at the papers. “And?”

He handed the papers over, and there on top was a photograph. Grainy, old, not entirely clear, but the person in it was unmistakable.

Michael Hill.

Australian army sergeant. Younger, with fewer scars, but the death stare was the same.

Except this haddeceasedstamped across it and a name underneath it.

Timothy “Harry” Harrigan.

“He was military before he went special ops,” Deans said. “Dark ops. Assassin working for the Australian government overseas.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“How did you find this?” August asked quietly.

“Google,” she said with a shrug. And August knew she’d always been super-fast and efficient when it came to finding anything online. She was a whiz compared to August. “Negative keywords, filters, and knowing what to look for.”

He turned the page. It was more on Michael...Timothy “Harry” Harrigan. His military record. Died in 2016 in Syria, apparently.

Which was odd. Because he was standing in August and Jake’s kitchen just four nights ago.

“Anything on Joshua?” August asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Deans replied.

Just then, two men in dark suits came into the police station. They saw all three officers at August’s desk and the one in front showed his badge. “Australian Security Intelligence.” He looked right at August and gave a professional smile. “Detective Shaw.”

August stood up. “Mr Commander’s Office, I assume.”

As if that was an invitation to come in, both of them came around the reception desk. Mr Commander’s Office put his hand out. “Your case file, please. Including the papers in your hand.”

August swallowed thickly, realising far too late that he was still holding the printout.

Fuck.

August slid the printout into the case folder, along with his report and passport photos from the rental company. “My report’s been logged,” he offered lamely.

“The case is now closed,” he said smoothly. “The 4WD has been removed and impounded. All search and rescue efforts have been called off. The three missing tourists were never missing, and Michael and Joshua Hill are just two law-abiding citizens who you don’t need to investigate again. For anything. Do I make myself clear?” He shot Jake and Kaycee a hard glare. They both nodded, and seemingly pleased, the two suits turned and walked out, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.

And August seethed.

“The fuck just happened?” Jake whispered.

“We just got silenced,” August replied. He hated this. He hated bureaucracy, he hated red tape, and he hated the government agencies that demanded transparency and integrity while having none.

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