Wheels and Buckles were heading back to the staff car when Buckles stopped and turned in my direction. He strode over to me and grabbed my hand and held it. His eyes filled with tears. ‘Thank you for finding my daughter and saving her from …’ He looked over my shoulder to the string of handcuffed men being processed behind me. He shuddered.

I nodded. You’d have to have a heart of nails not to feel sorry for the man.

A search warrant was signed in record time by the on-call magistrate, and the whole garage had been processed, photographed and dusted for prints. Daniel had stayed for the arrests and then was called away to another crisis in the city. I was glad. One less thing to deal with while we sorted out the extent of this ring of rapists.

Donning gloves, Wozza started in the cavernous shared space. I took the office. There were boxes piled everywhere. Bits of scrap paper. Receipts. Rubbish. A polaroid camera. Bad things had happened here.

The extent of those things became clear when I found the box of photos.

CHAPTER 39: THE FALLOUT

CHAPTER 39

THE FALLOUT

Arriving back at the farm, I felt an exhaustion sweep over me, a fatigue I hadn’t felt since Gemma died. Even though we had stopped it, the number of victims always seems heavier than the elation over the potential victims who have been spared. While none of the photos we’d found in the garage office showed the faces of the victims, there were enough photos of different women to suggest the ones we knew about were just the tip of the iceberg.

I took a deep breath and whistled for Waffles as I shut the gate, fumbling at the latch in the dark.

He didn’t come.

I whistled again. In the soundscape of the night, cicadas screamed and small things scuttled through the grass, but everywhere else was silent.

I climbed back into the car and accelerated slowly up the long driveway, a feeling of panic rising in my stomach. Except for when Daniel was staying, Waffles had never failed to come when I whistled from the gate. I scanned the landscape, looking for his black shape in the headlights. Saw nothing.

At the front door, I parked and jumped out. I almost wept with relief when I heard a raucous barking coming from inside the house. Had I accidentally locked him in this morning? I fumbled for my keys and hurried up the steps to the verandah. Then I stopped. If I had locked Waffles in, he’d be waiting on the other side of the door. But the barking wasn’t on the other side of the door; it was coming from deeper inside the house.

Something wasn’t right.