Sharon looked around the tent. Thomas stared at her, exhausted. Millie nodded. A few volunteers shrugged and the journo waited.

‘OK then. Let’s go.’

‘I’ll be running a piece on this along the lines of “Local detective reaches out to community”,’ said the journalist eagerly. ‘Can I follow you guys? It’s an exclusive.’

‘Absolutely.’ Kelly needed all the cover she could get in case Ormond made a move. If she became the face of the investigation on national TV, it would be very difficult to get rid of her. The journo looked as though he’d won the lottery.

As the small group left, following Sharon’s lead, Kelly waited for Thomas. ‘Do you want to file a missing person report for Jordan?’ she asked.

‘No, I don’t think so. He’s here. I’m just worried about what his intentions might be.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My son is a quiet boy, but don’t let that fool you. I’ve been watching him closely since Ella died, and he’s been boiling and simmering deep inside. He’s not here to join some community thrust to get justice for his mother.’

They stopped and faced each other.

‘He’s here for revenge.’ Kelly said it for him, and he nodded. ‘Right. I hear you. He’s running his own investigation.’

‘There are several knives missing from the kitchen block.’

‘Jesus,’ Kelly said. ‘You think he’s trying to embed himself?’

Thomas nodded and rubbed his eyes; they were red and watery.

‘You’re exhausted.’

‘There’s no way I’m leaving the kids. Ella would kill me. I’ll stay for as long as it takes.’

‘Does Superintendent Ormond know you’re here? I hear you and he are golfing pals.’

‘And you think that’s why he’s hell-bent on locking up some poor sod who didn’t do it?’

‘You read people well.’

‘As do you, Detective. Neil was at my house last night when he called you. I thought the way he spoke to you was disgusting. We know each other casually from the golf club; we’re not friends.’

Sharon was up ahead, greeting people and checking on how everyone was holding up. It was an incredible sight. She commanded great respect everywhere she went, and groups of people stopped what they were doing and listened to her. This woman who just last week had been virtually housebound was now mobilising a whole community, as well as wider afield, into waking up to the tragedy that was befalling today’s youth. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Sharon Bradley was spearheading something with the potential to bring about real change, and she’d achieved it in less than three days. The hairs stood up on Kelly’s arms. She guessed this was how all revolutions began: with a simple message. She hoped fervently that this one succeeded and didn’t fizzle out like so many sentiments on TV.