‘Yeah.’ He rubs his eyes. ‘Oli, I want you to be careful. That kind of thing can bring the crazies out. It’s more personal than print—people hear a journo’s voice, they might develop an unhealthy obsession. Especially with your voice.’

‘Don’t be silly.’ She sniffs.

‘I’m serious. People can easily google you, then once they see what you look like, well …’ He seems annoyed with himself. ‘You know I’ve always worried about you. It’s one thing to do what I do, but you’re out there asking questions and following people around with no authority and no protection. It’s dangerous.’

‘Do you think what happened to Cooper had something to do with the podcast?’

‘I have no idea, but I still think you should be careful. Maybe he pissed someone off. Maybe he crossed paths with someone who didn’t like him asking questions, or maybe it was completely random.’

Oli thinks about Cooper’s excitement at the possible link between Evelyn and Louise Carter. His call to Miles. He was so determined to crack the case, to prove himself. Had someone worried he was inching too close to the truth?

‘Oli? Ol?’ Rusty has been trying to get her attention. ‘Do you know what he was doing today?’

‘I only met him last week.’ A moment of incredulity at this realisation—it feels like so much longer. ‘We were working together on the Housemate story.’

Rusty nods. ‘Well, it might have just been a random attack. Or possibly racial. We need to check if anything similar has happened recently, or if he received any threats. That’s what the guys will be doing now.’

‘Where was he attacked?’

‘North Melbourne. We’ll pull his phone records and see if we can work out if he met with someone. Or was about to meet with someone.’

An ambulance charges into the hospital driveway, colouring the entire area red and blue. The scene from earlier is repeated. Stony-faced paramedics work with practised speed, efficiently ejecting the patient and holding various pieces of medical equipment above the body as they disappear into the hospital. Oli remembers the lactic acid that pumped through her limbs as she ran alongside her mother’s stretcher. The cocktail of emotions that percolated as she watched Sally’s face loll against the white material, traces of saliva still on her neck and in her hair.

Rusty rubs his eyes again. Yawns. Awkwardly stretches his long legs around the accelerator and brake pedals. ‘You going to be okay, Ol?’

She looks at his profile, backlit by the moon. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Rusty.’

‘Yeah, well.’ He stares out the window. Doesn’t glance at her. ‘How did you get here?’

‘Taxi.’

He nods. ‘I should get you home.’ When he turns the key in the ignition, it almost drowns out his next comment. ‘Dean will be worried.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: MONDAY, 14 SEPTEMBER 2015

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

MONDAY, 14 SEPTEMBER 2015