Lexie and Marty Parker were clearly distraught about their missing daughter. He didn’t consider them as suspects—yet. But the explanation for the broken wrist and the cut cheek was short on detail. (‘Bella fell out of a tree she was climbing and I tripped when rushing over to her.’) The woman was jittery about the incident, almost as if she expected to be disbelieved. She’d told the same story to the other mothers and it was repeated by her husband. Was it true or was she hiding a domestic violence situation?

As for Josh and Tara Murphy, they were certainly covering their arses. He wanted to find out more about their debt so he could quickly rule them in or out.

11 LEXIE

11

LEXIE

THE PLAYGROUP ROOM WAS BUSTLING WITH PEOPLE, SOME IN POLICE uniform, some in orange overalls, others in suits. But not one of them had found Bella. I’d retraced my steps to the shops and back, around the block, over to the school, down to the oval, through the underpass. A policewoman had accompanied me. I couldn’t hear her talking. Only the new chant in my head. Any moment now. Bella would be found. Any moment now. But each moment had come and gone.

Now I couldn’t stand still. Couldn’t sit. Didn’t know what to do with my legs, my arms, my feet, my hands. Had to keep moving, walking, pacing, shivering. With every pulse, a cold pain radiated from my heart, stabbing outwards to my fingers and toes.

Maybe if I sang her favourite song, she’d come back.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder—

I wonder … the words had disappeared but I could hear her response, annoyed with me: ‘Do the hands, Mummy. Star hands.’

Maybe if I recited her favourite book? Favourite story? Favourite poem?

My mind was blank.

‘Excuse me, Dr and Mrs Parker.’ The detective was speaking to us. ‘The superintendent wants to have a chat. Would you mind coming over this way?’

Superintendent Milson was in his fifties, heavyset, with short cropped white hair. I searched for a glimmer of hope in his face but it was a professional mask. His eyes rested on my bruised cheek for an instant and then flicked across to assess Marty before he spoke.

‘Everyone is doing their utmost to find your daughter,’ he began softly. ‘The land search coordinator is overseeing the direction of the foot search. Unfortunately, the dog squad has reported back that they can find no scent trail.’

‘What does that mean?’ Marty asked.

‘It could be a number of things. The most likely possibility is that the trail has been contaminated. Other adults and children have all crossed over that area. Cars and exhaust fumes also affect the scent trail.’

‘So we don’t even know which direction she went?’ My voice was high.