Tara switched back to her phone and clicked on the photos. Which one should she post? She’d taken about forty in the Parkers’ house last night. Images of Bella’s bedroom, her cuddly toys on the bed, her doll’s house and her fairies. She’d snuck into Lexie and Marty’s bedroom and snapped a few shots in there. The master bedroom was larger than Tara’s lounge room and kitchen put together. And the ensuite was stunning—those aqua tiles and the dual sinks. Of course, she’d seen all that at the open house but now it was furnished with Lexie’s stuff—no Ikea bookcases for her. Marty was obviously earning the big bucks and Lexie got to spend it.

In the Parkers’ lounge room, Tara had studied the photos of Marty—he was even better-looking when he was younger. She’d taken pictures of the family photos in frames: ones with the three of them, then the extended family, the teenage daughter, the grandfather and the aunt. More pics of Bella by herself on the wall. Some photos of Bella’s drawings and paintings, which were everywhere. Tara had considered pocketing a few but that was probably going too far. It had been too dark to take photos of the tree outside, where Bella had apparently fallen and broken her wrist.

She’d been hoping to see Marty at the house—to give him her sympathy and her promise to do whatever she could to help find Bella. But he must have stayed out searching all night.

Swiping through the images, Tara decided on a photo of Bella with her father. An attractive duo. That should get more than six comments. She’d save the others. Might even give the Canberra Times a call and see if they wanted to buy some pics. It would mean more exposure. And surely that could only lead to one thing—finding Bella. And making this village safe again. Two hours later, Tara had showered, fed Daisy, and put her down again. She had texted Julia and was planning to go down to playgroup in another hour or so. First she wanted to scroll through Facebook and see what people were saying. Was anyone blaming her? Lexie shouldn’t have gone up to the shop and left them in that position, especially while Tara was breastfeeding—she couldn’t be expected to look after extra kids.

The knock at the front door startled her. Had the detective read her thoughts about sending Lexie up to the shop for the Tim Tams? Was he here to interrogate her?

Her mother-in-law stood on the front porch, straight from a morning horseride, wearing jeans and a black fleecy jacket. Pam’s healthy outdoor glow made Tara feel even more tired.

‘Hi, Pam.’

Tara leant forward for a quick kiss on the cheek but her mother-in-law crushed her into a hug.