James got out and took two steps before dogs started barking from under the willow trees. He paused, fingers still on the edge of the open car door, and waited to see if the animals were loose.

Once they settled and started whining, he approached the letterboxes knowing he’d have to be quick about it. Inside the first were a couple of supermarket flyers and a small bundle of envelopes. Through the window of the top one, he saw the name: ‘J and A Jones’, put them back, slipped into the hire car and drove about half a kilometre out of town until he found somewhere to turn around.

Returning slowly, he pulled off the road and stopped in the shade of a stand of fruit trees in sight of the Jones farm. He had less than fifteen minutes to see what was what before he had to be at the church. If nothing happened, he would come back later.

At five minutes to the hour a ute approached from the direction of Kippen and turned into the driveway. The dog cage on the back was blatantly obvious, but James couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure about the passenger. These things were never totally clear; they only opened up to more leads that needed following up; but the kid who looked pissed off at having to get out, collect mail and unlock the gate was a pretty good match for his pursuer from the night before.

It was such an everyday scene and James couldn’t help but fill in the gaps: a teenager old enough to have a job yet not able to get one, bludging a ride home from town with his father over a distance so short he could very well have walked.

He’d only have to go through the arcade to the back of the shops, across the car park, down the grassy slope to the river, over the weir, past the public toilets and up the concrete road to the motel; or past the pub, along the Kippen Road about five hundred metres, across the bridge, and just past the abattoir. The parklands below the Kippen Bridge may as well have been the Joneses’ front yard.

James checked the ute. It had spotlights mounted on the roof and the dog cage filled most of the tray. The guy in the work vest could have been Johnny Jones. He looked about the right age. All any cop would have to do was ask where that vehicle had been last night, and who had been responsible for it.

The kid locked the gate and was almost inside the cabin when Johnny accelerated up the drive and disappeared behind the willows.

Newshound beats top cop to suspect.