‘Fine,’ said Shelby, throwing her napkin on her plate and rising from the table. ‘But we have one more stop to make first.’

‘We do?’ said Mackerel.

‘My aunty’s an end-time prepper,’ she said, with a hint of mischief. ‘You know what that means? She’s a hoarder. She’s got boxes and boxes of Sudafed.’

‘Shelby, no. We can’t.’

She slipped her arm through Mackerel’s playfully. ‘You said it yourself, to win Blackbeard’s business, we need the best ice on the market. The only way we’re making that is with pseudoephedrine.’

CHAPTER 39

AHAB

Ahab paced his room as far as the landline cord would allow. Mackenzie wasn’t picking up his phone.

Forest sat on the end of Ahab’s bed, his arms folded around himself.

Ahab hung up the phone with a curse.

‘So let’s say I believe you, and Davey’s alive,’ he said.

‘I know you’re upset with me, but —’

Ahab cut him off. ‘Yet conveniently, you don’t know how to find him.’

‘I’m sorry, Ahab, but Davey didn’t run through his itinerary with me,’ said Forest wearily.

Damn the boy was frustrating. And so bloody confident now!

‘Just be patient,’ said Forest. ‘Mackerel will be able to tell you all about it. He heard most of our conversation.’

‘Heard? So Mackenzie didn’t even see Davey?’

‘He would have, except Davey locked us in and ran away.’

‘Locked you in where?’ said Ahab.

Forest seemed reluctant to answer, cracking his knuckles and looking away.

‘Don’t try me, boy. Locked you in where?’ said Ahab.

‘In the pump shed behind Overeem’s Dive Centre. That’s where he met me.’

‘The pump shed?’

Overeem’s Dive Centre . . .

Surely that was no coincidence. Davey knew the place well, but so did Ahab. There weren’t too many places to hide.

‘I might know where he’ll be.’

‘Then I’m coming,’ said Forest.

‘No, you’re not.’

‘Just try to stop me,’ said Forest. ‘I’m the only bargaining chip you’ve got.’

The dive centre had closed for the day, but that wasn’t about to stop Ahab. He’d dug out his boltcutters from the tool shed at the inn and now, together with the boy, he walked around the back of the main building like he belonged there. Much better than sneaking around in the dark.

But when they got to the pump shed, he stopped in his tracks. The door was closed, but there wasn’t even a padlock on there. That wasn’t right – there was thousands of dollars of equipment in there.

He flicked on his torch and stepped inside, sweeping the light around the room, the smell of chlorine filling his nose. Searching behind the boxes of discarded pipe ends and bottles of cleaning chemicals, it didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for: the trapdoor.