‘I didn’t, really. Just a feeling. Rich couple, only one child. Did you see the size of that air-con? It looked about Shannon’s age, and hot flushes are a common side effect of IVF. Plus, Francine was moving like she’d had abdominal pain in the past. Although now I’m thinking Joseph may be hitting her.’

‘Well, you rattled him, that’s for sure,’ Thistle says. ‘Did it piss you off, what he said about adoption?’

‘No,’ I say, ‘that’s ancient history.’

She knows what I mean. ‘Not for me. I remember getting all dressed up whenever couples came to visit. It was like the world’s worst job interview. And you’d meet them, and you’d think it was going really well and that they liked you. You’d start thinking of them as Mom and Dad. Then you never hear from them again. You wonder what you did wrong, and that makes you self-conscious with the next couple … I wanted a mom so badly. But the Luxfords would spend tens of thousands of dollars rather than risk “raising someone else’s kid”. It pissed me off.’

For a moment, the only sound is the humming of tyres on blacktop.

‘Sorry,’ Thistle says. ‘I know no one picked you.’

I look out the window. ‘It’s okay. It might have been easier for me, in a way. I could always tell the couples didn’t like me, so I wasn’t left wondering if they’d be back.’

‘Scary Timmy?’ Thistle says.

The nickname takes me right back to the playground. ‘Right. Scary Timmy.’

‘For what it’s worth, I think it was their loss,’ Thistle says. ‘You would have made a good son, if anyone had been smart enough to take you home.’

She’s wrong, but I’m touched. ‘Thanks. Anyway, seems like we both ended up better off.’

‘How so?’

‘It could have been either of us behind that locked door.’

I’ve reached the final file—Daniel Ruthven, the victim we started with. The one who worked in construction, and whose phone ended up at the dump. I’ve read the file before, but this time I notice something I ignored before.

‘nTangle,’ I say. ‘The dating app they all used.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s made by a company based in Houston,’ I say, ‘in the CBD. Ian McLean works there.’

‘Daniel Ruthven’s roommate?’

‘Right.’

‘That connects him to all the victims.’ Thistle sounds excited. ‘Let’s go talk to him.’

My stomach growls. ‘Drive-through first,’ I say. ‘I’m starving.’

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 23

What two things can you never eat for breakfast?

Ian McLean is in his twenties, bearded, with kind eyes in a gentle face. The red sweater adds to the illusion that he’s a young Santa, not yet grey or fat.