A wallaby bounded across the trail ahead of him, joey in her pouch, pausing at the edge of the track to watch him, eyes reflecting the headlights. Murphy rode right past: he knew where he was headed.

He took old dirt tracks he knew well from a youth spent riding these same trails with Butch. He criss-crossed forestry and muddy bush routes, down the mountainside, until he came out into the outskirts of Limestone Creek and directly onto a farm’s driveway. He rode it to the road, then through paddocks and into town.

Roaring through the streets of dilapidated houses and barking dogs, it didn’t take him long to reach the Masons’ large double-storey house. He left the motorbike idling against the fence and stormed up to the front door, ignoring the stepping stones on the manicured lawn. He kicked open the heavy wooden door with a crash that busted the doorframe.

‘Madison!’ he shouted, flicking on the light in the main living area, everything sparkling clean. ‘Where are you?’

Nelly Mason’s scream echoed from upstairs, and seconds later the stairway light flicked on. Mr Bruiser exploded down the stairs, crouching on the final step and yapping like a guard dog. A moment later Kevin Mason ran down the steps, naked, holding a cricket bat.

Nelly was behind him, wrapped in her dressing gown.

‘Murphy, you bastard, what the hell are you —’ shouted Kevin.

Murphy pulled the Glock out of his belt and pointed it at his head.

Kevin fell instantly quiet, the cricket bat dropping out of his hands. Nelly fainted, her body hitting the carpeted steps with a dull thump.

‘Madison. Get down here,’ shouted Murphy. ‘Now!’

‘No,’ croaked Kevin, voice strangled. ‘Madison, he’s got a gun!’

He heard Madison’s footsteps and then she too appeared, hair messy, her phone in her hand.

‘Lose the phone or I’ll shoot your dad,’ said Murphy.

Terror flashed across Madison’s face. She dropped the phone and it cartwheeled over to Nelly’s sprawled body. ‘You killed Georgia? I was so sure it wasn’t you . . .’ she whispered. Then outrage crossed her face. ‘I defended you.’

‘Jack said you planned this,’ shouted Murphy. ‘You and the girls planned to go missing. For the sake of your fucking YouTube channel?’

The fear vanished from her face, replaced by a raised eyebrow. She came down the stairs and put her hands on her hips. ‘That’s what Jack said, is it? Did you know he’s screwing your daughter?’

‘Madison, go back to your room,’ choked Kevin.

‘Don’t worry, Dad, he won’t shoot – it’s Murphy.’ Madison cocked her head. ‘He’s just as weak as Jasmine.’

‘Did you plan this, Madison? Did Jasmine agree to it?’ said Murphy, shaking the gun. ‘Answer me!’

‘You think I told Georgia to throw herself off a cliff?’ said Madison, now smirking. ‘You really think I’m capable of that?’

‘Did you set this up?’ said Murphy.