“Oh.” Sierra was lost for words for a second. It wasn’t like Evan to close early. Since he’d taken over the ownership of the shop around eighteen months ago, he’d spruced up the place, added some interesting souvenirs to entice tourists, and made sure he was always open. Unlike the previous owner who’d been a lot less reliable. Sierra liked to chat with him whenever she came into the shop. He always seemed interested and attentive.
“Is something the matter? Why are you closing early?”
Evan shot her a sharp look. “Haven’t you heard? There’s a little girl gone missing. I’m off to join the search. Just about everyone in the street is doing the same.” Evan waved towards the front of the shop, but Sierra didn’t turn around. Her skin crawled as if there were living things moving underneath it. What had he said? It was as if all the air had suddenly left her lungs.
“Sorry. What?”
“A little girl wandered away from her parents this morning. They’re tourists, staying up at one of Mal’s rentals. They reckon she’s gone off in the bush somewhere and got lost.” Sierra concentrated on Evan’s serious face, his eyes holding a hint of sorrow as he spoke. He wasn’t joking. This wasn’t some kind of sick prank. This was real.
“Oh, Jesus,” she murmured. She stared at him, almost unable to comprehend. This didn’t happen on KI. It was a quiet place, where people came to live a quiet life full of natural beauty, and tourists came to have a good time. That was all. Kids didn’t go missing. An insidious little voice inside her head was whispering, what if she didn’t just wander off?
“I know, luv. That’s exactly what I thought. Isn’t it terrible?” He laid a hand on her shoulder, which made her flinch. He’d never touched her before, just always been friendly and talkative. It was odd, and it was all she could do not to shrug it off. Evan was staring at her and she realized she needed to pull herself together.
“Yes, it is,” she replied, giving him a weak smile. His hand still rested on her shoulder, and a sliver of aversion ran down her spine. She needed to get out of here. Needed to talk to Reed. He would most likely be at the epicenter of things.
“I think I’ll join the search, too,” she declared, turning away quickly, moving out of his reach. “Do you know where they’re setting up HQ?”
“At the Penneshaw CFS. You know, the fire station,” he replied, his eyes still not leaving hers. Sierra saw something odd flash over his face, but it was gone in an instant, and she hadn’t been able to decipher it.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you down there soon,” she said, turning on her heel and hurrying out the door. She could feel his gaze burning into her back as she left.
Outside, she glanced down, and saw the forgotten letter to Keira still in her hand. She tucked it into her handbag and turned down the street. The CFS was only two blocks away, she would walk.
“Sierra.” Someone called her name and she swiveled around, recognizing Sam and Debbie coming towards her. Debbie waved and she stood on the pavement, waiting for them to approach. “Have you heard?” Debbie said breathlessly, even before she’d come to a complete stop by her side.
“About the missing girl? Yes, Evan just told me.”
“Poor little lamb, she must be so scared, lost out there in the bush.” Debbie’s jovial face creased with unhappiness. “We’re going to join the search.”
“Me too,” Sierra declared. “I was going to walk down to the fire station. Did you want to join me?”
“Is that where they’re setting up their headquarters?” Sam asked. He was a big man. Broad across the shoulders, with a heavy-set, square jaw. He’d worked as a carpenter before he retired and the hard manual labor had formed him into a tough, fit man. Both Sam and Debbie were in their early sixties, and had moved to KI to set up an Airbnb business with their fleet of growing properties out at Snellings Beach. Her neighbors had become part of the small circle of people she called friends. Even with the age gap, Sierra got on well with them, enjoyed their company.
Kylie and Rhianna were her other two good friends. She’d met both of the women when she’d joined the KI walking group and they’d become close ever since. She wondered if either of them would come down to join the search. Kylie was a single mum and worked in Kingscote, so perhaps not. Rhianna lived out in Emu Bay with her hubby and two kids. It was further to come, out past Kingscote on an isolated headland, and Sierra doubted Rhianna would be here at such short notice either.
“That’s what Evan told me,” Sierra replied, already setting off down the path. It made sense. Kangaroo Island had a State Emergency Service unit, but it was in Kingscote, and they’d want to set up as close to the disappearance as possible. Debbie hurried to catch up with her, slipping her arm through Sierra’s. Sierra didn’t mind, it was something her mother might do. Debbie kept up a stream of conversation as they walked, Sam stalking along quietly a few paces behind. Sierra barely paid Debbie any heed, her mind racing. Would Reed be at the station? And why did she care if he was? Because she wanted to see him, that’s why. They’d made a connection the other night on the ferry, and then again at her house after the break-in. She was ready to admit that now. It was the first time in a long time—since Blake—that she’d had a physical reaction to a man. Felt a pull toward him, like a fish being tugged gently on a line.
She wanted to see him again. Look into those dark, obsidian eyes and see the corners crinkle up as he smiled. There was a dependability about him, a trustworthiness that made her feel safe. One question niggled constantly at the back of her mind. Should she tell him about the articles she’d written on abducted children? Would it make any difference if she did? After all, there could be no interrelation at all. Could there? But she knew she needed to tell him. To make sure he understood she wasn’t hiding anything. To keep the air clear. If this girl wasn’t found soon, a whole horde of media would descend on the island and then everything about her past as a journalist was sure to come out. For some reason, she wanted Reed to hear it from her own lips.
But it was more than that.
She wouldn’t go as far as calling it a premonition. More like a churning in her guts, warning her something wasn’t right. As soon as the words had come out of Evan’s mouth about the little girl, a heavy weight settled in her chest. And she instinctively knew it wouldn’t go away anytime soon, as if a dark foreboding was hanging right over her head. As if this girl had something to do with her past. Was perhaps connected. She knew it was a ridiculous assumption, crazy and way off-base. Of course, this had nothing to do with the other missing girls. But this heavy, dragging apprehension wouldn’t leave her.
They rounded the corner, and a mass of milling people came into view. As they got closer, Sierra could see it was organized chaos. Sergeant Coldwater’s voice could be heard bellowing orders through a bullhorn from the middle of the crowd, which parted as they walked up, revealing Don in his dark-blue police uniform, looking serious and ever so slightly harassed.
“I know you all want to help,” he said to the gathered crowd. “But you need to give us a bit of space to work.” He dragged his hand down his face, stroking his mustache in annoyance.
Officer Olivia Mettler was there also, hovering behind a large table that’d been set up out the front of the building, covered in stacks of paper, clipboards, hand-held GPS units, and a box of high-vis vests. Two other men also lingered around the table, both wearing the familiar bright-orange uniform of the SES team. One of them she recognized as Tom, a fellow member of the KI walking group she and Kylie and Rhianna were part of. Sierra cast her gaze around for Reed, but disappointment sat heavy in her stomach when she couldn’t see him.
“Tom Hubbard is the head of the community SES here, and he’s going to brief you all in a second,” Don said, projecting his voice once more through the bullhorn. The quietly murmuring crowd went silent.
Tom Hubbard was a burly man, with a thick, bushy beard, and bright beady eyes. He was often gruff and prickly, not an easy man to talk to. When she first met him, she’d been surprised to find out he was involved in the SES, and even more surprised he was the leader. But as she got to know him and broke through that gruff, outer shell, she could see a man who was eager to be a valuable part of society, who wanted to help, to be liked. He just didn’t have great social skills. But he was damn good at organizing, at marshaling people, telling them what to do with his loud voice and take-no-nonsense attitude. People listened to him.
“We need to keep this search as organized as possible, so we don’t have random people going off in random directions,” Don continued.
As Don spoke, movement attracted Sierra’s attention, and she turned to look behind her. A police Land Cruiser pulled up in the background at the edge of the fire station car park. Sierra shaded her eyes to see better, and then her heart kicked in her chest as Reed got out of the car. He was here. Don continued to expound on the necessity of following the SES team-leader’s instructions, waving his hands around in time with the bullhorn. Sierra returned her gaze to the Sarge, but the back of her neck prickled with the need to turn around to get another glance at Reed. As if on cue, he materialized by her side.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” she replied, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of him standing close beside her for a second or two. But it was now or never, so she bit her lip and drew in a breath.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
His dark gaze landed on her face as he studied her for a moment. “Well, I need to talk to you, too,” he replied.