Visibility through the haze was so poor that he almost missed the turn-off to the campground. Arriving at a scantily grassed clearing, Jake paused to observe those gathered through his driver’s side window.

A crying woman and a shouting man paced next to a lurid blue tent, both of them splattered in mud and fear—presumably the parents. A straggle of curious campers still in their sleepwear huddled against each other, steaming mugs in hand. And a well-coiffed woman in corporate black bent her head toward a uniformed officer, her gestures authoritative.

Jake picked up his phone and wallet, opened his door and entered the fray.

‘Murphy,’ he called to his offsider as he strode across the car park, mud sucking at the soles of his boots.

The young man’s head whipped around. ‘Detective. This is counsellor Kelly.’

Kelly? The same family as Jake’s new commanding officer? ‘As in the local council, or legal?’

‘It’s Evelyn, as in Dunton’s Victims of Crime Services counsellor,’ Ms Kelly responded as she extended a hand.

Jake shook it once, aware of bone and sinew beneath heavily moisturised skin. She certainly resembled his new station head, Aiden Kelly.

‘It’s good to have you along. Right then,’ Jake said, ‘tell me what we know, constable.’

‘At seven oh nine this morning Jamie Taylor, ten years old, was reported missing by his parents, mother Diane Taylor’—Murphy gestured toward the distraught woman—‘and father James Taylor. Due to the steep terrain nearby and current low visibility we’ve asked the parents to remain at the campsite while we search.’ Murphy paused. ‘An ambulance should be here in less than twenty.’

‘Have you interviewed the Taylors yet?’

The constable shook his head. ‘Only briefly.’

‘Who else is on the way? Who’s your regular search and rescue team?’

‘Local firies. All volunteers. I’d say a few are away with school holidays, but we should get eight or ten here soon,’ Murphy said as a car containing three men in orange hi-vis vests rolled through the campground entrance.

Volunteers. They’d either be well-trained and disciplined to the task, or a windstorm of bravado; Jake could only hope for the former. ‘Start assembling them into teams of two as they arrive. Await my instructions. And make sure no one leaves the site until I give the go-ahead.’

Murphy nodded. Jake walked toward Jamie Taylor’s parents, aware that the counsellor fell in step beside him.

‘Mrs Taylor?’

She looked up as they approached, eyes bloodshot, cheeks streaked with tears.

‘Mr Taylor?’

‘James and Diane,’ was the gruff answer. ‘Why aren’t you out searching for Jamie?’

‘I’m Detective Hunter; this is a support counsellor, Ms Kelly. More people are on the way and we’ll begin the search shortly, Mr Taylor. But first, we need you to tell us what happened.’

‘We woke up and Jamie was gone. We looked around the place but couldn’t see anything in this bloody fog, so we called you …’

‘It would help if you could find a recent photo of Jamie on your phone for us, please.’ Jake indicated the device clutched in Mr Taylor’s hand. ‘And you, Mrs Taylor. Can you add anything? Who discovered Jamie wasn’t at the campground?’