The Dry (Aaron Falk #1)

The Falk boy’s back.

The second woman’s eyes darted to his face then immediately away. With a tiny nod she confirmed her friend’s suspicion. She leaned over and whispered something to the woman on her other side. An uneasy weight settled in Falk’s chest. He checked his watch. Seventeen hours. Then he was gone. Again. Thank God.





2


“Aaron Falk, don’t you bloody dare leave.”

Falk was standing by his car, fighting the urge to get in and drive away. Most of the mourners had already set off on the short trudge to the wake. Falk turned at the voice and, despite himself, broke into a smile.

“Gretchen,” he said as the woman pulled him into a hug, her forehead pressed against his shoulder. He rested his chin on her blond head, and they stood there for a long minute, rocking back and forth.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad to see you here.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

“How are you?” he asked when she pulled away. Gretchen Schoner shrugged as she slipped off a pair of cheap sunglasses to reveal reddened eyes.

“Not good. Bad, really. You?”

“Same.”

“You certainly look the same.” She managed a shaky smile. “Still working the albino look, I see.”

“You haven’t changed much either.”

She gave a small snort, but her smile firmed. “In twenty years? Come on.”

Falk wasn’t just being flattering. Gretchen was still entirely recognizable from the photo of the teenage foursome that had flashed up during the service.

The waist Luke had thrown his arm around was a little thicker now, and the baby-blond hair might have been helped by a bottle, but the blue eyes and high cheekbones were pure Gretchen. Her formal trousers and top were a shade tighter than traditional funeral attire, and she moved a little uneasily in the outfit. Falk wondered if it was borrowed or just seldom worn.

Gretchen was looking him over with the same scrutiny, and as their eyes met, she laughed. She looked lighter, younger.

“Come on.” She reached out and squeezed his forearm. Her palm felt cool against his skin. “The wake’s at the community center. We’ll get it over with together.”

As they started down the road, she called out to a small boy who was poking something with a stick. He looked up and reluctantly abandoned what he was doing. Gretchen held out a hand, but the child shook his head and trotted in front, swinging his stick like a sword.

“My son, Lachie,” Gretchen said, glancing sideways at Falk.

“Right. Yes.” It took Falk a moment to remember that the girl he knew was now a mother. “I heard you’d had a baby.”

“Heard from who? Luke?”

“Must have been,” Falk said. “A while ago now, though. Obviously. How old is he?”

“Only five, but already the ringleader half the time.”

They watched as Lachie thrust his makeshift sword into invisible attackers. He had wide-set eyes and curly hair the color of dirt, but Falk couldn’t see much of Gretchen in the boy’s sharp features. He scrambled to recall if Luke had mentioned her being in a relationship or who the boy’s father was. He thought not. He liked to think he’d have remembered that. Falk glanced down at Gretchen’s left hand. It was ringless, but that didn’t mean much these days.

“How’s family life treating you?” he said finally, fishing.

“It’s OK. Lachie can be a bit of a handful,” Gretchen said in an undertone. “And it’s just him and me. But he’s a good kid. And we get by. For now, anyway.”

“Your parents still have their farm?”

She shook her head. “God, no. They retired and sold up about eight years ago now. Moved to Sydney and bought a tiny unit three streets away from my sister and her kids.” She shrugged. “They say they like it. City life. Dad does Pilates apparently.”

Falk couldn’t help smiling at the image of the plain-speaking Mr. Schoner focusing on his inner core and breathing exercises.

“You weren’t tempted to follow?” he said.

She gave a humorless laugh and gestured at the parched trees lining the road. “And leave all this? No. I’ve been here too long; it’s in the blood. You know what it’s like.” She bit the sentence short and glanced sideways. “Or maybe you don’t. Sorry.”

Falk dismissed the remark with a wave of his hand. “What are you doing these days?”

“Farming, of course. Trying to, anyway. I bought the Kellerman place a couple of years back. Sheep.”

“Really?” He was impressed. That was a sought-after property. Or at least it had been when he was younger.

“And you?” she said. “I heard you went into the police.”

“Yeah. I did. Federal. Still there.” They walked on in silence for a way. The frenetic birdsong coming from the trees sounded the same as he remembered. Up ahead, groups of mourners stood out like smudges against the dusty road.

“How are things round here?” he asked.

“Awful.” The word was a full stop. Gretchen tapped a fingertip to her lips with the nervous energy of an ex-smoker. “God knows, it was bad enough before. Everyone’s scared about money and the drought. Then this happened with Luke and his family, and it’s so bad, Aaron. So bad. You can feel it. We’re all walking around like zombies. Not sure what to do, what to say. Watching each other. Trying to work out who’ll be next to snap.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. You can’t imagine.”

“Were you and Luke still close?” Falk asked, curious.

Gretchen hesitated. Her mouth set into an invisible line. “No. We hadn’t been for years. Not like it was when it was the four of us.”

Falk thought about that photo. Luke, Gretchen, himself. And Ellie Deacon, with her long black hair. They’d all been so tight. Teenage tight, where you believe your friends are soul mates and the bonds will last forever.

Luke lied. You lied.

“You obviously stayed in touch with him,” Gretchen said.

“On and off.” At least that was the truth. “We caught up occasionally for a beer when he was in Melbourne, that sort of thing.” Falk paused. “I hadn’t seen him for a few years, though. It gets busy, you know? He had his family, I’ve been working a lot.”

“It’s all right, you don’t have to make excuses. We all feel guilty.”

The community center was heaving. Falk hung back on the steps, and Gretchen tugged on his arm.

“Come on, it’ll be OK. Most people probably won’t even remember you.”

“There’ll be plenty who do. Especially after that photo at the funeral.”

Gretchen made a face. “Yeah, I know. I got a shock too. But look, people have got plenty of things to worry about today other than you. Keep your head down. We’ll go out the back.”

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