Read Little Girl Lost Online

Authors: Janet Gover

Tags: #fiction, #contemporary, #western, #Coorah Creek

Little Girl Lost (13 page)

BOOK: Little Girl Lost
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She smiled almost shyly and nodded. Max wished he could put his arms around her. He wanted to tell her that he understood how hard it was for her to let down her guard and let people get close to her. He wanted her to know how glad he was that she was becoming part of this community that he cared so much about. But he didn’t have time. There was a child out there, and every wasted moment reduced their chances of finding her alive.

A young man detached himself from the group of searchers and came over to where Max stood.

‘Sergeant Delaney. I just wanted to say thank you for the carvings that you gave to Anna. She loves them.’

‘You’re welcome, Steve,’ Max said. ‘And thank you for coming out today.’

‘Of course. I had to. I can only imagine how I would feel if it was Anna out there. Just tell me how I can help.’

‘Come with me.’ Max put his arm on the younger man’s shoulder. ‘It’s time we got the search teams out there.’

Chapter Nineteen

‘How does he do it?’ Tia watched fascinated as Grandpa Pindarri moved his gnarled and twisted hands through the wispy tops of the long dry grass.

‘I have no idea,’ Pete said. ‘But apparently he’s done this before and always found the person he was looking for.’

‘It’s all about observation.’ One of the younger aboriginal men joined them. ‘His father taught him. He taught my father. And me too. He’s the best.’

‘What’s he see that we don’t?’ Tia asked. ‘There can’t be any footprints. They will have washed away in the rain last night.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. There will be some traces left. He sees the way the grass is bent. Or a rock recently overturned. A scuff mark is all he needs.’

‘But there have been dozens of people out here searching,’ Pete added. ‘The ground must be covered with scuff marks.’

‘A man makes a very different mark to a little girl.’

‘Eh, Dave. Come ’ere.’

‘Coming, Grandpa.’ Dave gave Tia and Pete a nod and moved forward to offer his grandfather a hand as he climbed over some jagged rocks.

‘This way,’ the old man said. ‘She went this way.’

There were about ten people following where the tracker led. Dave had warned them to stay back a bit. His grandfather didn’t like a lot of noise when he tracked.

‘He likes us to think he’s listening to the earth and the wind,’ Dave had said with a smile as they started out. ‘Maybe he is. But maybe he just doesn’t like too many people near him.’

Tia had smiled at the affection in Dave’s voice.

Now, watching the old man at work, she almost believed the part about the earth and the wind. He would simply stop suddenly, for no obvious reason. He’d look slowly around him, his dark eyes appearing almost unfocused beneath a shock of curly snow-white hair. He might even bend over to touch the red earth. Or perhaps a tuft of wiry brown grass that to Tia looked no different from the rest of the grass around it. Then he would take a deep breath.

‘That way.’ There was never any doubt in his voice and the finger he pointed didn’t ever waver.

She wondered how many years he had been tracking. He certainly looked as old as the weathered red rocks around him. His dark face was deeply lined and parched by the sun. His hands shook and he paused frequently to catch his breath. But something about him inspired confidence. Tia knew that if she was the one lost in the bush, this was the man she would want tracking her. And Max was the man she would want leading the search.

The old man belonged to the land. He was part of it and it was part of him. Max, on the other hand, belonged to the town and its people. He might not see it that way. But he was part of them, as they were of him.

How she envied that. It must feel very good to belong. To be a part of something. Maybe one day she would have that too.

‘So, you ride that red Harley,’ Pete offered as they made their way through the scrub, peering about them for any sign of Renee.

Tia felt her hackles rise, but fought down the feeling. It was a harmless question. She shouldn’t let it get to her.

‘Yep.’

‘You almost drove it under my truck one night, you know.’

Tia paused and thought back. ‘You drive the big white Merc.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Yep,’ Pete echoed.

‘Sorry.’ She meant it too, and that surprised her. She had spent most of her life refusing to apologise for anything. Maybe the town was getting to her. Or maybe it was someone in the town …

In the distance they heard a sound. They both froze and listened carefully. The voice came again. It was someone calling the little girl’s name.

‘It feels strange not to be calling for her,’ Pete said. ‘Sarah spent all day yesterday calling her name. By the end of the day she could hardly talk.’

‘I bet she’s glad not to be out here today. She was hobbling earlier when she came into the radio tent.’

‘Honestly, I think she’d rather be out here helping. That’s the sort of person she is, but her foot just wasn’t up to it.’

‘Well, I’m glad to have the chance to do my bit,’ Tia said.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. The old man paused and turned in a circle. He bent and touched the earth. Then he stood and stretched his arms wide.

‘She was here,’ the old man said. ‘Twice. She walks in circles. You.’ He pointed to Tia and Pete. ‘You go there.’ He indicated the hint of a trail of to their left. ‘Kangaroos made that trail. She might follow. Dave, you go too. You others. You come with me.’

Another of the old man’s relatives stepped to his side, ready to assist him if he needed it. Dave caught Pete and Tia’s eye, and nodded in the direction they were to go. He set out a little more briskly than his grandfather, but soon slowed down, peering carefully at the earth and the rocks and grass. As he tracked, he was very much a younger version of the man who had taught him.

Pete and Tia followed at a distance, looking into the undergrowth and the shadows beside the rocks. Just in case.

‘This waiting is going to kill me.’

There was no answer. Sarah was alone at the campsite. After sending all the search teams on their way, Max had taken only a few minutes to show Sarah how to use the radio, before he too had set out. He and the park ranger, Dan Mitchell, were going to check out some caves. They were at the very edge of what Max considered the reasonable search area, but, as he said, a small girl could run a very long way if she was scared enough.

The Haywood family were still here. Or at least the mother and son were inside the motorhome. The father had gone with Dan and Max, saying he had to do something. He couldn’t stand another day of just waiting for news.

Sarah understood how he felt. She felt like that at times, wondering about her father. It was a month until his next set of tests. And even if those tests were clear, there’d be more ahead. It would be a year or two before they could feel relatively certain he had the disease beaten. Even then, would they ever be totally sure? Which left Sarah facing a difficult decision. Should she stay in Coorah Creek or go back to building a life away from her home town? She had a degree now. She could get a good job. She could travel to the far-flung places she had often read about. When she was a child, the road had called to her. She had watched Pete drive off into the distance, wishing she could go with him. Now she could go as far as she wanted. Brisbane. Sydney. Even New York or London. They were out there waiting for her. There were so many places to go and people to meet. It was what she had always wanted.

But did she still want it?

She looked around the empty campsite. It was empty because almost the entire town of Coorah Creek was out there in the bush, sweating under the blazing sun. They were there to help a little girl who was a stranger to them. To help a family they had never met. It felt awesome to be part of such a community effort. She knew all these same people would be there for her father and mother too, if things got worse. How could Sarah leave?

And then there was Pete. All those childish feelings for Pete had come back – but this time they were different. They were a woman’s feelings. She had never felt like this about anyone she’d dated in the city.

Why on earth would she go back to Brisbane, when it seemed everything she wanted and needed to be a part of was right here in Coorah Creek? She didn’t have to make the decision now, but soon she would.

The door of the motorhome opened, and a small boy descended the steps, looking about him. From the corner of her eye, Sarah saw movement near the car park. It was that reporter. Quickly she walked over to the lad, using her body to shield him from the reporter’s view.

‘Is Pete here?’ Dustin asked in a very small voice.

‘No, honey, he’s out helping to look for your sister.’

The boy nodded. His face almost broke Sarah’s heart.

‘Where’s your mother?’

‘She’s asleep. I think she and Daddy were awake most of the night. They argued too. And I heard Mummy crying.’

Sarah put her arm around the boy’s hunched shoulders and drew him closer for a quick hug. ‘Parents argue sometimes. But it’s not important. The important thing is that they love each other. And they love you and your sister. That’s why your mummy was crying. Because she wants Renee to come home.’

‘I want her to come home too.’

‘I know you do.’ Sarah thought quickly. ‘I have to go sit over there,’ she pointed to her tent, ‘near the radio.’

‘Can I come too?’

‘Of course you can.’ The news that came out of that radio might be good or it might be bad. But sitting alone and waiting would be worse for young Dustin. ‘You could keep me company,’ she said. ‘And help me listen to the radio.’

‘I can do that,’ Dustin offered. ‘Will Pete be calling in?’

‘He might.’

The boy’s face brightened. ‘And if you want something to eat or drink, I know where it’s all put over in the other tent. Syd showed me before he went back into town for more supplies. He said I was to make sure that no one went without food or water.’

‘That’s an important job,’ Sarah said as they moved back into the shade of the tent and settled near the radio. ‘I’m sure you’ll do it well.’

The boy sat down. ‘Will Pete be back soon?’ he asked. ‘He’s just great. I feel better when Pete is here.’

Sarah ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘So do I, Dustin. So do I.’

Chapter Twenty

Max ran his fingers through his hair, and looked up at the sky. The sun was moving inexorably towards the west but there were still three or four hours of daylight left. Their search of the caves had been fruitless. He had expected as much, but they were running out of time, and he was not going to leave any place unchecked. Over by their vehicle, Dan was on the radio. He caught Max’s eye and shook his head a fraction. No news.

No news was good news. Right?

Not at the end of the second full day of searching it wasn’t.

He thought back to the case he’d studied at the academy. Four-year-old Steven Walls had survived for four days and three nights and been found eleven kilometres from where he went missing. Renee was six, but where Steven had been bush born and bred, she was a city kid. She didn’t know what to eat or not eat in the bush. And Tyangi was a very different place to the mountains where Steven had gone missing. In the mountains, there had been creeks with clean water and shady places for the child to rest. There was no water here, and under the blazing sun in this part of the outback, water was everything.

He looked over to the mouth of the caves they had just searched. Renee’s father was slumped against a red sandstone boulder. His head was in his hands, and his hunched shoulders were shaking. Max knew the man was crying. His despair hung over him like a cloud. In all his years as a policeman, Max had never felt able to help someone suffering such profound grief. They didn’t teach that at the academy. He did his best, but was never sure he’d done it right.

Like this search. He’d done the best he could. The townsfolk had rallied around, as they always did. Jess was back in the air again today, with Rachel Quinn as spotter. The trackers he’d brought in were the very best. But there were too few of them. When they had found Steven Walls alive, it had taken more than four thousand people. And several aircraft. He didn’t have those resources to call upon. But he was not about to give up. Not while there was even a glimmer of hope. If he had to search alone, he would do so until he found her.

Dan appeared beside him. ‘I guess we should head back.’

‘I guess so.’

They stood in silence for a few moments, watching the broken man by the cave mouth.

‘The poor bugger,’ Dan said.

That was something of an understatement.

‘I’ll get him.’ Max walked slowly over to Mr Haywood.

At the sound of Max’s footsteps, Haywood looked up. His eyes were ringed with red and tears streaked the sweat and dirt on his cheeks. The hope that flared in his eyes was quashed instantly when he saw the look on Max’s face. His shoulders heaved and he buried his face in his hands again.

‘She’s … she’s dead, isn’t she?’ His voice broke.

‘Don’t say that.’ Max laid his hand on the distraught man’s shoulder. ‘Kids are stronger than we think. You’re a father. You know that. Don’t give up on Renee, Evan. I don’t plan to, so you can’t either.’

‘It’s my fault,’ the distraught father sobbed. ‘Hazel was always at me for spending too much time at work. She insisted we take a family holiday. She wanted to go to the beach, but I said we should come out here. It wasn’t just for the holiday. I wanted to look at some aboriginal art. I thought that would be good for my business. I was working again. I wasn’t paying attention when Renee … And now she’s lost and it’s my fault.’

Privately, Max might have thought there was some truth in those words. But dishing out blame wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s not anyone’s fault. What we need to do now is focus on finding her. All right?’

Haywood nodded.

‘Good.’ Max gave him a minute to pull himself together. He picked up a water bottle that was sitting at the man’s feet and passed it to him.

‘We’re heading back to camp now.’

Haywood looked at the bottle in his hands. ‘Oh God. She hasn’t got any water out there. And it’s so hot …’

‘Stop that!’ Max said firmly. ‘That’s not going to help. Your wife and son are back at camp. They need you to be strong.’

Haywood took a long deep breath, then slowly stood up. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

They walked back to the car. Evan got into the back seat and remained silent as they drove back to the main search site.

The camp was almost deserted when they returned. Max saw John Hewitt, the reporter, helping himself to water at the food tent. Sarah was standing by the radio. No sooner had Haywood stepped out of the car, than his son appeared at Sarah’s side.

‘Dad!’ The boy raced across the campsite and flung himself into his father’s arms. Haywood gathered Dustin into a massive bear hug, lifting him off the ground.

The click of Hewitt’s camera made Max frown. He knew the man was just doing a job, but at times like this, it was a shitty job. If he could, Max would ban him from the search site. But he really couldn’t, and now wasn’t the time to start a fight.

Haywood looked over his son’s head at Max, his eyes full of gratitude and despair. Then he turned and carried the boy back towards the motorhome. As he approached, the door opened. Mrs Haywood ran down the stairs to fling her arms around her son and her husband. For a long minute they just stood there, any past problems pushed aside by their desperate need for comfort. Max had to wonder if maybe the family might end up stronger as a result of these few terrible days. But that would only happen if they found Renee … alive.

Max joined Sarah in the shade of the tent, keeping a close eye on Hewitt to make sure he didn’t bother the Haywoods.

‘My heart aches for them,’ Sarah said as the door of the motorhome closed behind the small family.

‘I know,’ Max said. He glanced up at the sky. ‘There’s still a fair stretch of daylight left. Let’s not give up hope yet.’

Pete had long since given up any attempt to really see the track they were following. Dave just seemed to know where to go. He paused now, looking in two directions.

‘See, she was here,’ he said, pointing to the ground.

Pete and Tia both crowded forward. Pete looked down at the ground and saw nothing to indicate the girl had been there; just red dirt that had already lost all traces of moisture from yesterday’s downpour. Thank goodness they weren’t relying on Pete’s eyes. He trusted Dave. The tracker knew what he was doing.

‘How long?’ he asked.

‘Hard to say. Today. Definitely today. See here, the dirt is still wet where she kicked that rock.’

It didn’t look wet to Pete, although it might have been just a fraction darker than the ground around it.

‘Then she can’t be too far away.’ Pete glanced at Tia and saw her face reflecting his own hope.

‘Now you call for her,’ Dave instructed.

‘Renee! Renee!’ Tia called.

They held their breaths and waited, listening carefully. There was no reply.

‘Maybe she’s asleep. Tired. We’ll keep going. You keep calling her name.’ Dave cast his eye over the ground again and started walking.

Pete felt his energy return. They were close. He glanced at Tia and saw the same hope in her eyes. The sun was sinking in the west. They had some daylight left, but not too much. They had to find her. Soon. His instincts told him that the little girl might not survive another night out here alone.

‘Do you think we should try to get more searchers to this area?’ Tia asked.

The same thought was forming in Pete’s mind. There were other search parties not too far away.

‘Maybe,’ he said.

Tia called Renee’s name again. Still no answer.

Just ahead of them, Dave stopped in his tracks. He bent down to touch his fingers to the earth.

‘She’s close,’ he said. ‘We need more people.’ Dave lifted his hands to his face and took a deep breath. ‘Cooee!’

The harsh cry seemed to echo through the bush. Nearby, a big white bird flew startled from a tree.

‘Cooee!’ Dave called again, his voice rising to a high note that swept through the bush like the crack of a whip.

This time there was an answering call, faint but clear, from some distance away.

‘That’s Grandpa,’ Dave said. ‘I bet their track is coming back towards us from the other side of that ridge there. They’ll be with us soon.’

Tia suddenly froze.

‘Wait. Listen!’

Pete listened carefully. ‘I don’t hear—’

Tia grabbed his arm and motioned him into silence.

‘Renee,’ she called, loud enough for her voice to carry, but not loud enough to frighten an already terrified child.

Then Pete heard it too. It sounded like someone sobbing.

‘This way,’ Tia said, moving to her left.

Pete followed, his heart thumping. Tia reached out to grab his hand and he held on to her as if he were afraid that she too would get lost.

‘Renee!’ Tia called again.

This time she was answered with what sounded like a child calling for her mother.

‘Renee!’

Tia let go of Pete’s hand and pushed her way through a patch of scrubby undergrowth. He was right behind her when she stopped dead in her tracks. Pete looked past her.

The little girl was huddled against a fallen tree. Her clothes were torn and her skin was burned a fierce red by the sun. Her face was dirty and scratched and streaked with tears and her brown eyes were wide open. In her hands she clutched a bedraggled yellow teddy bear.

‘I want my mummy,’ Renee cried.

BOOK: Little Girl Lost
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