A door in the hallway opened, and Con expected a good-natured grandmother to emerge, an apron around her waist, inviting him into a kitchen for a cuppa and a chat. Instead a giant bear of a man stepped out, bald with a thick greying beard and grey grizzled eyebrows.

‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Con, taking a step back before he could stop himself. The man was at least six foot five.

‘Detective Badenhorst?’ The man reached out a paw to shake Con’s hand. ‘Peter Hugh. Good of you to make it. Glad to see you’ve stopped dodging my attempts to make contact.’ Con now recognised the pastor from one of the search parties one the day of the disappearance. He was thick in the chest and arms, and wore a blue short-sleeve button-up and jeans, with faded naval tattoos down both arms.

‘I promise you it wasn’t intentional.’

Hugh’s face creased into a smile. ‘You know, I believe you. Sometimes timing is Divinely appointed.’

A thin-faced man with grey skin appeared from the same doorway as the pastor. ‘There’s a detective?’ he whined.

‘He’s not here for you, Wes,’ said the pastor over his shoulder. To Con, he said, ‘Listen, I’m having a counselling session with a friend. We’re just wrapping up. Sorry to keep you waiting, but I’ll be with you in a tick.’

‘Nah, I’ll get going, Pastor Pete,’ whined Wes, slinking towards the back door.

‘Don’t you dare,’ growled Hugh. ‘Get your arse back in there.’ He turned back to Con and Murphy. ‘Give me a minute.’ He followed Wes into his office and shut the door.

Murphy paced the corridor, running his hand through his beard, up on his toes like he was about to run. Con took a seat on one of the chairs outside the pastor’s door, fascinated, picking up the conversation.

‘He’s a copper,’ whined Wes.

‘Yeah, mate, but he’s not here for you,’ said Hugh. ‘He’s here about the girls.’

‘He’ll smell it on me.’

‘Then don’t go kissing him and it’ll be fine. Now, when we meet next week, what are you gonna have done?’

Wes mumbled something.

‘What was that?’ prompted Hugh.

‘I’m going to have cut back to just one a day.’

‘And?’

‘And I’m gonna call you if I feel tempted.’

‘I’ll hold you to that. Now, are you gonna pray, or am I?’

After a moment, Wes muttered, ‘I will, I guess . . .’

‘How do you know the pastor?’ Con whispered to Murphy.

‘This is Limestone Creek,’ said Murphy. ‘Everyone knows everyone.’

‘Liar,’ said Con. Murphy didn’t respond.

The door to the office opened and both men walked out. ‘And no kissing Detective Badenhorst on your way out,’ called Hugh loudly.

Wes flinched and scurried to the door.