Oh, how she loved the Irish endearments. They sounded so mysterious. Just like their travelling life had been meant to be.

The countryside now opened up to wide red plains, covered in golden swaying grasses and low olive-coloured shrubby trees. They looked prickly to Rose. A heat mirage shimmered at the end of the road and didn’t get any closer as they drove towards it. The air felt as if it were burning as she breathed in, and the sunlight hurt her eyes.

‘Rosie?’ Ian was looking at her, concerned. ‘I love you,’ he repeated.

She touched his arm and tried to smile. ‘I know.’

2020

A cold wind blew through the Barker police station as the door opened; the missing-persons posters and other pamphlets and brochures flapped under the force of the breeze.

Joan, the long-standing receptionist, snatched at her paperwork and looked up, her smile turning to a frown.

Three men dressed in casual clothes but each wearing a vest declaring they were from the Australian Federal Police now stood in front of the desk. Dark sunglasses and stern looks were on their faces.

‘Can I help you?’ Joan asked, trying to reorganise the documents she’d been working on.

‘Looking for the sergeant,’ the one closest to her said, putting his sunglasses on top of his head. He held out a badge.

Joan looked at it. Jerry Simms.

‘I’ll get Dave for you,’ she said, rising and walking casually towards the back of the office. Ducking through the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder and saw all three standing to attention, their hands clasped low in front.

‘Dave!’ she whispered, frantically indicating towards the front desk.

Dave looked up from his computer and over the top of the glasses perched on the end of his nose. Joan’s hands were pointing, and she was making all sorts of hand signals that didn’t make sense. He raised an eyebrow.

‘AFP!’ Joan finally managed to get out.

Both his eyebrows were near his hairline now and he leaned back in his chair for a moment before getting up and walking out into the front area.

‘Detective Dave Burrows,’ he said, holding out his hand to the closest man, who merely fixed Dave with a stern look.

‘Can we go somewhere private?’ the nameless man asked, glancing at Joan.

‘Right through here,’ Dave answered, gesturing in the direction he’d come from.

The three men walked past him and found chairs in his office. Dave glanced over his shoulder at Joan and gave a wink, before following them through.

Settled in the office, the ringleader, his face still serious, introduced his team.

‘I’m Jerry Simms and these are my colleagues, Allan Taylor and Rob Cooper.’ They all shook hands this time, though the remaining stern-faced men still didn’t speak.