‘Who are the crazies?’ Marty repeated.

‘Ah, the people ringing in are … um … psychics.’

‘What are they saying?’

‘Um, all sorts of things, sir. Normally it’s like a vision they’ve had. Crazy stuff.’ The officer bit down on his lip and then gritted his teeth. ‘We follow up on them all, just in case.’

Marty understood that the bloke was trying to protect him. The crazies must say terrible things—that Bella is at the bottom of a dam; she has been abducted in a silver van; she’s lying in a shallow grave. Marty shuddered. No, he couldn’t keep the fear at bay; he couldn’t search any more. He had to get away from here, home to Lexie.

‘Dr Parker, the superintendent is coming in at seven and he’ll assess the situation and discuss the next search area.’ A female officer was talking at him now. Marty found it hard to follow her words.

‘I need to go home.’

‘Of course. I’ll drop you back. You shouldn’t drive.’

The forty-something policewoman picked up her car keys and began shepherding him out of the room. Marty looked around for Lucas. He spotted the other man drinking coffee in the kitchenette, speaking with the search coordinator. Marty waved in that direction and then around the room.

‘Thank you, everyone, for looking for Bella.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Tell everyone, please. From us. Thank you.’

Walking towards the police car, Marty glanced down at his mobile. A message from Victoria: Dad, I can’t sleep. Any news? Can I come down?

The last time—the only time—Victoria had been to visit was a disaster. He should have known from the moment she stepped off the Murrays bus. Victoria wasn’t looking for him in the crowd but turning back to her friend, laughing. Her curly blonde hair bounced as she swung her head around. Short shorts. Long legs. Midriff bare, with a ring glistening in her belly button. Why the hell does Angela let her dress like this? She’d better not have a tattoo. Marty tried to ignore the adult men in the waiting crowd ogling his teenage girl. Keep it happy for the first hour, at least. She’ll be freezing in the Canberra winter. Where does she think she is? Bali? I hope she brought some warmer clothes.

In the car, Victoria and her friend Kimmy had spent the first five minutes complaining about the bus, the cold weather and the Canberra landscape.

‘So, Daddy-o, where’s your hospital? Is it in the centre of town? Oh, that’s right, there is no centre in Canberra! What did you move down here for? Such a wasteland.’

Christ, it was going to be a bloody painful weekend.

As they pulled into the driveway, young, uncomplicated Bella stood waiting at the front door, holding a purple balloon and a drawing. A complete contrast to the surly teenager.