Though she only stood five-foot-four in heels her voice filled the backyard, insistent.

‘The Camry ran out of gas. I had to hike a couple of kilometres. I tried to phone . . .’ She paused. Chandler assumed that she had tried to contact Mitch and had failed. ‘Cops stopped me a couple of times on the way. As if I look like a serial killer?’ she said, offering a thin smile.

She went to enter the back door. ‘I want to see the kids.’

‘They’re not here. They’re at my parents.’

‘What?’ said Teri. ‘You’re telling me there’s a serial killer on the loose and you aren’t even looking after them. This, Chandler, is the kinda shit I left you for. Trying to save others and sacrificing your own kin.’

‘I don’t need this right now. The kids are safe.’

‘They will be.’

‘Leave them alone, Teri.’

‘No. I’ve taken a back seat too long on this. I’m taking you to court for Sarah and Jasper if you don’t hand them over.’

‘They’re not hostages, Teri. And this isn’t a negotiation. You can’t force them.’

‘No, this isn’t a negotiation. This is their decision. But all this – ’ she said, waving her hand in the air, ‘this is the type of shit I want to get them away from.’

‘This type of shit doesn’t happen regularly.’

‘Leaving them with your folks?’ smirked Teri.

‘No,’ said Chandler, shaking his head, ‘having a serial . . . a murder suspect loose around town.’

‘But yet I hear they’re always with Pete and Crazy Caroline.’

Chandler let the insult pass. ‘Something better not happen to them ’cause you distracted me here.’

‘If something happens it’ll be because you let the killer go.’

Chandler glared at her. False information she could only have garnered from her boyfriend. Trust Mitch to sell him out, even now.

‘The advantage of an inside contact,’ she continued, flashing the thin smile again and tapping a nose that had always been a little too large for her face, prominent and sharp.

‘He’s welcome to you,’ said Chandler pushing past her and into the house. All he wanted was to pack up his notes and leave.

As he shoved the notebook and other scribbled pages into a backpack, she poked around the house. ‘Bit messy in here. The kids will be better suited having two parents, don’t you think? Me and Mitch.’

Chandler didn’t respond. He had larger fish to fry. Bundling his notes into the car, she went to get in the passenger’s side. Chandler kept the door locked.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

‘Going with you.’

‘This is police business. You can walk. It’s not far.’

Chandler felt a puerile but pleasing inner glow at his response.

‘I thought you said there was a killer out here?’ she said, standing back from the door, looking vulnerable and alone.