Yes, Leah said.
Think again.
Leah watched as Tess flopped into a kitchen chair and yawned hugely, unappealingly. She didn’t care about Tess’s feelings, but did care if giving orders to her was going to be counterproductive. How about some coffee?
Tess glowered, suspecting a trap, then smiled widely and Leah could see how young and pretty she was under the attitude and puffy face. While Tess was sipping her coffee, elbows on the table, the mug in both hands, steam rising dreamily around her sleepy face, Leah said, Okay, if we don’t cut or colour your hair, how else can we alter your appearance?
Tess frowned, giving it some thought, and they went to and fro for thirty minutes. In the end, Tess decided on temporary face tattoos, dark glasses and some streaks of hair mascara. Leah was satisfied. You should eat something.
Tess shuddered. God, too early.
Muesli and long-life milk, Leah said. Shed found plenty of both in the pantry and didn’t think theyd be missed by the residents of the flat.
Not before I have this coffee and a shower.
No showering, Leah said, and explained why.
Tess looked ready to complain, thought better of it, and kept sipping her coffee.
I’m going out to buy some things, Leah said. Your shades and tattoos, some food, plus I need underwear, jeans, T-shirt, toiletries, sleeping-bag, a new pack…
Tess was alarmed. Are you hitting the road without me?
Of course not.
When will you get back?
An hour or so. While I’m out, don’t do anything to attract attention to the flat. And no phone calls.
God, Tess muttered, staring at the pattern in the table top.
See you soon.
How long are we staying here?
Another night at least.
How are we going to get away?
Steal a car.
Yeah, right, just like that.
Just like that.
Tess said nothing, then turned a puzzled face to Leah. How come you’re helping me?
Were helping each other.
I want the truth.
Leah thought about it. When I was in trouble I could have done with a senior officer to stand up for me, but they were all too busy watching their backs.
Welcome to the real world, Leah. I don’t expect anyone to watch my back.
Well, I just changed the rules, Leah said, wondering how much of her stance was false bravado.
Tess was still at the kitchen table when Leah got back. The younger woman heaved to her feet, and stumbled to the bathroom. Definitely not a morning person. Leah unpacked bread, juice, sliced ham, tomatoes, tinned food and Tess’s tattoos, hair mascara and dark glasses. She heard the tap run, heard Tess pad on bare feet to the bedroom, later heard her slump onto the sofa in the sitting-room and turn on the TV softly. It was going to be a long twenty-four hours.
The next morning Leah opened the door to the corridor and listened. There were no sounds in the stairwell and shed heard nothing since 8.30. It was ten oclock now and she was guessing that the other residents were at work. She closed the door behind her. Shed left a note on the kitchen table:
Half a minute later she was on the street. She walked for an hour, first dumping their rubbish, then looking for parked cars that hadn’t been locked or still had keys in the ignition, and finally looking for vehicles parked in the shadowy corners of public carparks. At every intersection she would wait and watch and listen for the Range Rover or any other vehicle that might cause her skin to creep.
Her search took her to the railway station. There were four cars in the carpark. The platform was deserted and there were no cops or heavies in the waiting-room or the ticket office. The only people she saw were the station master making coffee in a room next to the ticket office and a bleary-eyed man in the waiting-room. Leah looked at the timetable. There was a Melbourne train due in twenty minutes. The return train got in at 6.30 that evening.
Fifteen minutes later, there were eight more people waiting for the train. Most were women who appeared to be going to the city for a days shopping, but there were also two men in suits. All were yawning. One of the men coughed repeatedly. Another smoked, ignoring the sign.
When the train came in they all stood up and walked onto the platform. Leah went into the womens. When the train was gone, she went out to the carpark. There were now twelve cars parked along the fence. She chose an old white Kingswood, knowing it was the easiest to break into and start. She was hoping it wouldn’t be missed until 6.30.
A skinny kid with nose rings and a shaved head was coming down the stairs from the second level when Leah got back to the flats. He slipped past without looking at her, an eager expression on his face. She hurried into the flat, finding Tess in the bedroom, shoving a denim jacket into the top of her daypack.
Who was that I just saw?
What?
You didn’t answer the door to anyone, did you?
Don’t know what you’re talking about.
I saw a guy on the stairs.
Well there are other flats here, you know.
Leah let it go. Tess was quite right. But something, some shift in Tess’s manner or in the stale air of the little flat, told Leah that it was time they got out of this town.
chapter 7
As they left Prospect, Leah decided they should exchange the stolen Kingswood for another set of wheels as soon as possible. But they were heading into the mid-west of the state, where the towns and farms were sparse, and the featureless landscape bleached and heat-stunned. Distant dust clouds indicated solitary vehicles on lonely dirt roads. They could lose themselves out there but those back roads could also stifle and trap them without food, water or shelter. No, it was better to stick to the bitumen roads and scout around the next town for another car.
She explained some of this to Tess, who was yawning, still struggling to face the day, and responded with a bored Whatever. Tess was useless to her, that was clear. Even a handicap. But they had to stick together for now. She tuned in the radio to the midday news: there was no follow-up story to Mitchs death.
How did your brothers find you?
Tess frowned, as if shed been daydreaming or didn’t understand the question. What?
Would they have hired private detectives?
Dunno.
Leah shook her head in irritation and watched the unfolding road. She knew cops who’d become private eyes, and knew they were often better at finding missing people than the police, whose resources were overstretched, each officer working several cases at once. A private eye had time, resources and know-how to bear on each case. Leah found herself remembering some statistics from a lecture shed attended during her training: 26,000 Australians go missing every year, and 69 per cent of those were like Tess, aged eighteen or under. Most were found in the first day, 98 per cent within a year. Those least likely to be found were males aged
