“Mum. Mum, listen to yourself. Cruise was playing a character who abducted a woman in a brutal way. He holds her for ransom, and hides her in the fucking bush. You don’t think that maybe, just maybe, Cruise snapped and the line between fiction and reality disappeared?”
“It was too much for him. He couldn’t handle the crap they were putting his character through. He wasn’t dealing with it. That’s why we had to get him out of the country. They took a break from filming so he could regroup and come back ready to finish.”
“And now he’s nowhere to be found and my wife is missing. Maybe we’re too scared to see what’s right under our noses.”
“He didn’t do it. He didn’t.”
The sound of sobbing has me twisting my neck. Natalie’s hair creates a shield around her face. All I see is the top of her head as it hangs low. I catch sight of the droplets of water dripping to the ground below.
Kylee’s feet slap against the flooring, and she wraps her arms around Natalie’s shoulder’s.
Every single one of us suffers. If Cruise has done this, then he meant for it to break us all. Is he capable of murder though?
“He didn’t do it.” Mum’s eyes plead with me, but I can’t tell her no because he’s not here.
“If he didn’t do it, then where is —”
“He didn’t do it.” Dad’s tone is commanding. He stands in the doorway, every set of eyes in the room on him. “Reid, you need to sleep. Grandparents, our job is next door, with our grandchildren. Natalie, you’re coming with us.” He pauses. “John.” He stops. He doesn’t offer further instruction. “Linda, you look like crap. You need rest also.”
“I’ll take her home and bring her back later,” Dusty says, his arm wrapped around Linda’s waist.
“Okay.” Dad’s tone softens. “Max, is this the plan?”
“Yes.” Max stands by the television with his hands on his hips. He tries to hide his grin by squeezing his lips into a fine line.
“Sleep, son.” Dad smacks my shoulder, causing a sting to rush across my back. “Sleep.”
“John.” I don’t say another word, I just look at him.
“I’ll be here. I’ll sit and talk with Max. Clean yourself up and get some shut-eye. Morgan will need you soon, okay?”
The corner of my lips arch. Morgan will need me.
Every step I take up the staircase has my muscles burning. I feel as if I’ve run a marathon twice over. My stomach growls and groans from hunger, and even though it hurts I still can’t fathom the idea of eating anything.
When I reach the bedroom door, I pause. It’s only for a moment, but it’s long enough to hear the sudden slamming of another door behind me.
I twist on my heel and glare down the corridor. “Morgan,” I whisper.
Silently, one foot in front of the other, I approach the children’s bedrooms. Aleeha’s is where I stop.
I place my hand on the handle and push it wide open. “What are you doing in here?”
My finger is pointed in Dusty’s direction as he bends over Aleeha’s bed.
“Reid.” He flings his body towards me. His hand whips outwards, and in his grasp there’s a purple pony. “Linda asked me to get this.”
“Why?” I snap, stepping towards him.
“John said she wanted it, and your folks are going next door.”
A blowing curtain steels my attention. Aleeha’s window is open.
Was it open earlier? When was the last time I came in here? I can remember Shirley holding Aleeha on her bed; that was the last time I was here in her room. Maybe Kylee and Ronald opened it? Or was it Dusty?
“The window.” I point in its direction.
Dusty crooks his neck and looks behind him.
“Did you open it?”
“Yes,” he says, facing me once more.
“Why?”
“The room had a bad …” He stops speaking. “The room needed some airing. I couldn’t hold it in.”
“You farted?”
He nods. “Mate, I just came to get the pony as instructed.”
“Hon, have you —”
I swivel on my heel. Linda’s eyes are wide. Her lips are pulled tight.
“You tell him to get this toy?”
“No, John did. What’s going on here?” Her eyebrows furrow.
“I’ll explain downstairs.” Dusty walks towards me, turning sideways to slip through the gap between me and the doorframe. “I let one rip in there. I opened the window to let some fresh air in and the door slammed. Reid got a fright, I think.”
Dusty passes Disco Bash, Aleeha’s pony, to Linda.
“Reid.” Linda steps towards me. “It’s okay.” She runs her free hand down my arm. “I’ll see that Aleeha gets Disco Bash.”
I close my eyes and cup my hands to my forehead. “Just go,” I huff.
I want to be the one taking my daughter’s toy to her. Giving her the comfort she seeks. Not any-fucking-body else.
“I’ll ring you. Remember what Dusty said. Keep your eyes on the cops.”
“Why is that again, exactly?” I drop my arms until my hands dangle at my sides.
Dusty looks to his left, then his right. “Because there’s a lot they —”
“Linda, have you got the pony?” John calls. I can hear the sound of his feet hitting each stair.
“Got it,” Linda yells.
When John’s head pops into view, his eyes narrow. “Reid, what are you still doing up? Go and get some sleep, for the love of all things that are holy.”
I shift my eyes to Dusty, then to Linda, then back to John.
“Okay, I will. Linda, are you staying?”
“I’ll be back later.” She frowns. “You need sleep.”
“It’s what you all keep telling me.” I take a step back. The tension in the hallway is thick, and I’m pretty sure all of it’s coming from me. Who the fuck is this Dusty fellow? And why the fuck did he come here?
I take four steps in the direction of my room before I press my chin to my shoulder and look behind me.
Linda’s eyes await mine. “It’s okay,” she mouths.
Nothing is okay.
A wall of humidity slaps my face when I enter the bedroom. It’s stifling, but I shouldn’t be too surprised. It’s as hot as Hades outside today. I locate the remote in the holster on the wall and press the button to turn on the air-conditioner. If I’m going to get a wink of sleep in here, I’m going to need it to be cooler.
I need to pee. I drag my feet to the bathroom. I lift the seat and press my hand to the wall above the unit. As I listen to the stream of piss pounding the water below, I remember the drip from the tap John fixed. Forcing the last trickles out, I shake, pull up the front of my pants, and turn sharply to look for even the slightest drip coming from the spigot—not a droplet escapes. John did a good job. He’s always right there when I need him, helping, getting jobs done. We’re a good team, him and I, and the fact that he’s downstairs manning the fort right now brings me some peace.
Maybe I can sleep. God knows I need it.
My eyes sting. Rough sand particles seem to rub behind my eyelids every time I blink. I open my mouth and yawn. Fuck I’m tired.
I think I should shower, and when I shove my nose to my armpit and sniff, it’s clear I need to—I reek. But I don’t take a shower. Instead, I rip my T-shirt over my head and walk to the drawer.
Grabbing a tight fitted black T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, I change, discarding my pants on the carpet. I stand by the window and stare down at the street below. I’m dazed, spent, and lost.
Do they know where Morgan is now? I can’t call her, but will she try to call me again?
“Where’s my phone?” I murmur. “What?”
My jaw drops. My mouth hangs wide. A flash of brown hair catches my eye. A woman sprints toward the driveway. I step closer to the window. Morgan?
She disappears. I glue my eyes to the footpath, awaiting her return.
Is my mind playing games with me?
“Morgan!” I yell as another flash of brown hair fills my vision. I see her. It must be Morgan.
I turn and run down the hallway until I hit the top of the staircase and almost trip the entire way down. My feet smack against two of the steps in my dash to the bottom. I burst through the front door, and as my soles pound against the ground my heart races.
I can hear Maloney calling after me. He catches me quickly. There’s pressure being applied to my shoulder, pulling me to a dead stop. My eyes move, crazed, as I search frantically for Morgan.
Nobody is out here. Where did she go?
“Where did Morgan go?” I’m panting.