‘Right,’ Alistair managed, and Larry gave him a strange look.
‘Look, I don’t put my officers in the firing line without due cause,’ he told him. ‘But Sarah’s a woman, and that might help. Besides…’ Larry gave a rueful grin. ‘It’s more than my life is worth not to tell Sarah what’s going on. The lady has a temper.’
Alistair had to agree with that. ‘She has.’
Another strange look-but Larry didn’t have time to waste on anything but imperatives. ‘Let’s move, then,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want anyone working alone. Max, do you want to help?’
‘I sure do.’
‘Then how about waking any locals who might be useful and organising teams? We’re not trying to arrest this woman-I want no one going near her until I have Sarah on hand to help-but I want to find signs of where she might be.
Alistair, I want you to stay here. If the woman’s stealing medical supplies then maybe she’ll figure that she needs a doctor. I want you to be here if she comes back.’
‘But…’
‘Stay,’ Larry snapped. ‘But wake Sarah for me.’
‘Sure.’ He had no choice. Alistair left them and strode around to the doctor’s quarters.
Sarah’s bedroom door was wide open. She was gone.
Alistair was worried, but Larry wasn’t. ‘We can’t wait.’ The detective was annoyed, but not concerned. Sarah’s nightgown was neatly folded and her bed made. Every sign said she’d gone somewhere of her own accord. ‘What a day to decide for a morning walk.’
He checked his watch. ‘We were supposed to be leaving at six,’ he told Alistair. ‘That’s in less than an hour, but by then there’ll be more sand obliterating tracks. We’ll move without her.’ He motioned to the radio on his belt. ‘Contact me the minute she gets back and I’ll organise to meet her. We leave now.’
Barry watched the searchers leave-a team of the police force’s crack searchers with locals attached.
No one had come near him. No one wanted him. He was a cop with local knowledge and they didn’t want him. The thought made him feel so angry he was almost numb with rage.
He could tell them where to look. He could.
Not one of them came near him. No one asked his advice. The knot of resentment and rage twisted his gut until he felt as if he was going to vomit. But as he settled-as he watched the last of them leave-the resentment turned to a fierce determination.
He could do this.
His gun was still in the safe at the back of the police station. His suspension wasn’t official yet. Larry might have the clout to take him off the case-to tell him to take leave pending an inquiry-but he didn’t have the authority to do more. So if he discovered whoever was out there north of the town he could make an arrest. It might have to be a citizen’s arrest, but it’d still be an arrest.
They’d look pretty stupid when they came back from a day’s hunting and he had them safely in the lock- up.
It might even help.
If he’d been taken off the case then he shouldn’t wear uniform. He should wear plain clothes.
But the pain in his gut was still there. The fury. He was a cop. He was a bloody good cop. Why shouldn’t he wear what he liked?
He liked his uniform.
And he liked his gun.
Determination building by the minute, he dressed and loaded his gun. He checked that no one was watching and made his way outside.
He turned north.
‘Noa, we need to take Azron to hospital.’
There was no answer. The woman had her back to the cliff face. The gun was pointing straight at Sarah.
Sarah had done all she could. She’d set up a drip. Fluids were the most important thing. The child had lost far too much blood and his fluids were badly depleted. Even if his father was a doctor, there were limits to what he’d have been able to do.
The child should have had plasma and saline two days ago.
She didn’t have plasma now. She only had the saline that had been with Alistair’s kit.
And antibiotics. She had them running through the drip now-thankfully Alistair’s bag was really well equipped- but the child’s rampant infection needed stronger ones than she had available.
She’d checked the wound. It had been cleaned but it needed debridement, and Sarah was fairly certain that slivers of metal were still embedded deep.
She wanted X-rays. More-she wanted an intensive care unit. He must be severely anaemic. His whole body seemed to be shutting down. His breathing was so weak. There was no oxygen. She had a mask, but no cylinder.
‘Noa, please…’
‘Just fix him.’ The woman’s voice was harsh.
‘You need help yourself.’
‘No.’
Sarah sat back and looked at her. Looked at her drained, exhausted eyes. Looked at the stained bandage around her wrist.
‘Let me help you.’
‘No one can help me.’
‘I can help you,’ Sarah said softly. ‘I’m a doctor. I have nothing to do with the man who shot your husband. I have nothing to do with the immigration authorities. All I know is that you’re in trouble.’
‘No.’
‘At least drink something.’ Sarah made a movement to the stockpile of water and the woman’s hand jerked. The gun followed Sarah.
This was hopeless. Dreadful.
‘I’m getting you water. And then I’m going to treat your arm.’
‘Look after my son.’
‘I’ve done all I can for Azron. He’s in the shade. He’s being rehydrated. I’ve started antibiotics. But when your husband and your son are both well then they’ll need you. You need to be well, Noa.’
‘Stay…’
‘I’m not going to stay,’ Sarah said, keeping her voice soft and steady. Her eyes didn’t leave Noa’s face. ‘I’m going to look at your arm. You can shoot me if you must, but that’s a really stupid thing to do. All I want is to help you. Point the gun at me all you want. But I’m helping.’
In the house next to the general store Mariette saw the searchers and made her own decision. Donny had been vomiting intermittently all night and it had gone on too long. She was starting to worry. If the search team was out, then surely Dr Benn would be awake?
She phoned, and three minutes later Alistair appeared.
‘I’m glad of the work,’ he told her as he gave Donny an injection. The little boy was dehydrated, but the metoclopramide worked fast. This tummy infection had been spreading through the local schoolchildren and he wasn’t too concerned. ‘I’m not very good at staying behind waiting for news.’
‘I imagine you’d all be worried,’ Mariette told him as she saw him out. ‘I wish there was some way I could help. All I’ve done so far is donate a sheet.’
‘Donate a sheet?’
So she told him about the missing sheet, and as she did Alistair’s unease deepened. There was someone else near town, then? Was someone hiding closer than the wreck?
Where was Sarah?
He didn’t want to wait, he thought fiercely. He wanted her back here
