‘Hello? Yeah, no, it’s Murphy . . . Cornelius?’ He turned to Con. ‘Your name is Cornelius?’ Back into the phone, he said, ‘No, he’s fine, just busy driving . . . Why are you . . . What’s happened?’ Murphy sat up straight. ‘I knew it.’ He turned to Con. ‘Jack has done a runner. Gave her the slip and took off on his dirtbike. She followed him in his own car, but he headed down one of the trails. Wait, detective: the one just around the corner from his place? . . . I know where that leads.’

‘What?’ said Con. ‘Where is he going, Murphy? What did Gabriella say? Where does that trail lead?’

‘It leads to Lake Mackenzie.’

CHAPTER 23

ELIZA

‘I’m not sure this is a good idea,’ said Tom. He steered his white flatbed Landcruiser over the potholes and fallen gum branches on the Lake Mackenzie four-wheel-drive track.

‘Why didn’t you tell me Jack knew about this place?’ said Eliza.

‘Why didn’t you tell me Jasmine was dating Jack?’ said Tom.

‘If Jack knew about this place, maybe he told Jasmine. She might be hiding there, and Cierra and Bree, too.’

‘Then we should tell the cops,’ said Tom.

‘And what if what happened to Georgia was an accident? They might be scared. They’d think they’re in trouble. They might not want to be found. We bring the cops, they might bolt.’

‘Or whoever took them could be hiding here.’

‘I know,’ said Eliza. ‘And that’s why I brought you. And your gun.’ Tom’s .22 hunting rifle lay across the back seat.

The headlights bounced over the muddy track. Lake Mackenzie was invisible beside them in the thick, rainy darkness.

‘You better turn the headlights off. We don’t want them to know we’re coming,’ said Eliza.

‘Well, we can walk from here. We’re about 300 metres away.’

They pulled over and climbed out of the Landcruiser. The darkness – the moon hidden by the clouds – was all but complete. Eliza flicked on her torch, shining it at her feet. Puddles and wet stones sparkled in the light.

Together, they walked down the road, Tom’s rifle slung across his back. The air was thick with the smell of wet, rotting leaf matter. ‘They would have had to walk a long way to get here,’ said Tom.

‘If they had a compass, they could’ve just bashed through the bush more or less in a straight line. It’s not that far, really, from where Georgia was found.’

‘They would have crossed the road. Someone would have seen them,’ said Tom.

‘But if they didn’t want to be found . . .’

‘It’s a stretch, Eliza,’ said Tom. ‘I think you want them to be safe so bad, you’ve made it all up in your head that they’re just waiting in the Fisherman’s Hut, safe and sound.’