It was a relief to get home at last, but even there I wasn’t safe. I’d hardly had time to make a cup of tea before Mitch McCall was knocking on my door, begging for a quick word. I almost didn’t recognise him; he seemed to have shrunk and his colour was dreadful. His jaunty air had completely disappeared.

‘I just want to warn you, I’ll be picking up that couch tomorrow,’ he began. Then his whole body sagged. ‘I don’t know if I can return it to the store. Or if I should keep it in case…in case…’ He trailed off.

I had to ask him in. I couldn’t just leave him on the doorstep.

‘Oh, no. Thanks, love. I’m good,’ he said, though he didn’t look good. ‘It’s the shock, you know? She didn’t tell me. I had no idea. But I don’t blame her; it was getting too hard. She was at the end of her rope—you could see that, eh?’ Without waiting for a reply, he squared his shoulders and said, ‘I don’t care if they charge me. What did they expect—that I was going to dob her in? She was smart not to tell me anything. It means I have nothing to say.’ Then he lowered his voice and gazed at me with desperate eyes. ‘Did she tell you anything?’

This, I realised, was the question he’d really come to ask.

‘No, Mitch. I’m sorry.’

‘They found her car this morning.’

I frowned. ‘Where?’

‘In Coffs Harbour. Near a supermarket.’

‘Coffs Harbour?’

‘Scott had a two-year posting in Coffs right after they married. Krystal’s got friends there.’ He offered me a shaky smile that looked like a wound carved into his face. ‘I felt better when I heard. The Rooneys couldn’t have driven that car to Coffs and back. They were in town on Sunday morning. I saw ’em myself.’

‘Right.’ I understood his misgivings.

‘Anyway, thanks for your help. And I’m sorry about the couch. I’ll get rid of it as soon as I can.’

‘Please, Mitch, don’t worry.’ My heart went out to him. ‘Take your time. I don’t use that garage.’

‘She’s got so much stuff. I don’t know what to do with it…’ He stared off into space for a moment, then turned and stumbled back towards his car. Worried he was going to fall, I watched him until he climbed into the driver’s seat. Then I returned to the kitchen.

Three hours later, the Rooneys arrived.

I was eating a plate of thawed-out chicken stew when a thundering knock made me bite my tongue. The pain was so bad I had to sit there, taking deep breaths, while the hammering continued.