“Reid. STOP!” Mum screams.
“He didn’t do it, Reid. He’s not responsible,” Dad shouts in my ear.
My ear pops, and a dull ache has me scrunching my eyes shut.
“Get off your fucking brother.” Dad applies pressure to my back as his fingers try to pry mine off Cruise.
“No! Get off, Dad.” I try to jerk away from him, but he’s much stronger.
I’m being dragged by my collar, my grip torn away, and I fight. I fight as if my life depends on it. Every pounding of my heels on the floor, every thrash of my torso, means I can go back to strangling the fucking life out of my brother.
I’m defeated the moment I feel my arms yanked behind my back.
Click, click. Click, click.
I hear the handcuffs secured before I even feel the pressure against my ulnas.
“Don’t make me arrest you for assault.” Maloney towers over me as I sit puffing.
A bead of sweat drips from his eyebrow and falls onto my cheek. I thrash my head. “Pig.”
“You want to play it this way? Do you think that’s a wise decision?”
“I think you have these cuffs on the wrong man. That’s what I think.”
Maloney grabs his radio from his holster. “Dispatch, RK-242.”
“Yes, RK-242, go ahead.”
“Constable Maloney here. We have located Cruise Banks. I need a unit to the home of Reid Banks, where our suspect currently is. It's about the missing person case of Morgan Banks.”
“Requested unit is on its way.”
Cruise sits across from me. His hands are pressed against his neck, his body slumped over itself. His knuckles are grazed. They’re fucking grazed.
“What have you done?” I yell, glaring in his direction.
“Nothing, you dumb fuck. I’ve done nothing.” He bolts upright.
“Reid, shut your God damn mouth. You’re helping no one.” Dad shoots me a death stare.
“Always on his side. You’ve always been on his side. Why? Because he’s some bigshot bloody actor? I’m the disappointment, aren’t I, Dad? Go on, admit it.”
Dad lays his head into his palms. He roars. I sit upright.
“You boys both make me proud. You’re my legacy. I’m proud of you both.” Dad drops his hands and points his finger at me. “Don’t!”
I huff loudly.
No sooner do Dad’s eyes disconnect, then he’s crouched in front of Cruise.
“Where the ever-loving fuck have you been?” His voice is stern, yet controlled.
“Wagga.”
“Wagga. Why the fuck were you in Wagga?”
“Escaping the world. Natalie said she wanted a divorce. I lost it, Dad. I lost it.”
“So you ran away. Are you telling me you hopped a plane to escape the issues, problems you’re having with your wife?”
There’s no reply.
“You smell like a brewery. Are you drunk?”
“No. Hungover as shit.”
“How did you get here?”
“Drove. Metho lent me his ute.”
“You’ve been with Metho this entire time?”
“Yes.” Cruise coughs.
“You drove drunk?”
“I drove. That’s all that matters.”
“Why are you so banged up, boy?”
“Bar fight.” He punches the words out abruptly.
“You look like you got your arse handed to you.”
“I did.”
He doesn’t even talk himself up. That’s unlike Cruise.
“We’ve been calling you nonstop. Natalie has been beside herself with worry.”
“She wouldn’t care if I lived or died. Ouch!” Cruise yelps.
I catch a glimpse of his face as his head bobs to the side after Dad clips him around the ear.
“Don’t be a fool. You probably did something to piss your woman off, and she probably said more than she meant to, but Natalie loves you, always has and always will. When she finds out you’re here …” Dad pauses. “You’re going to be a dead man. She thought you’d been taken too.”
“Morgan.” Cruise has agony in his tone.
“Still missing.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“How did you find out?”
“Metho saw it on the television at the TAB. He raced back to tell me.”
“Why haven’t you answered your phone?”
There’s a long pause.
“Because I don’t know where it is. I lost it after I passed out in some bushes off Metho’s property.”
“Don’t you ever do this —”
“I know, Dad.”
Dad wraps his hand around the back of Cruise’s head and rests his forehead against his. “You had me worried. Sick with worry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You need to be here now for your brother. Get upstairs, get out of those filthy stinking clothes, and pull your shit together.”
“No.” Maloney steps towards Dad. “Right now, Cruise is under investigation and those clothes, and his body, are evidence.”
“I didn’t take my sister-in-law. You have to believe me.” Tears drip from Cruise’s eyes when Dad sits to the right of him.
“It’s not a matter of believing you, mate. It’s a matter for the law to decide.”
“You’re kidding?” Dad huffs as he stands.
Maloney shakes his head. “Not a matter for anyone to decide, bar the detectives.”
“But he just told you where he was and what's happened since?”
“Look at his jeans. They’re muddy and grass-stained. His face is a mess. His shirt is bloodied.” Maloney’s finger points to Cruise.
“And that makes him look guilty.” Dad smacks his hand to his forehead. “My son didn’t do this. Max, he didn’t do it. And he has an alibi, with a witness.”
“Then you’ll have no problems, will you?”
Maloney walks around Dad and stands beside Cruise. “Are you coming willingly down to the station?”
“Yes.” It’s barely audible.
“Good.”
“I’m calling a lawyer,” Dad says.
“Good decision,” Maloney says.
“I never thought I’d have to call a lawyer for both my sons for the same fucking reason. I hope he doesn’t have to show, because he costs a fortune.” Dad holds his mobile phone beside his ear. “I’m not sure what the hell your mother and I ever did to raise boys who couldn’t keep their bloody wives satisfied and messed up their entire bloody lives in such an epic fashion.”
“Dad,” Cruise and I snap simultaneously.
“What? It’s true, ain’t it?”
We both know better than to reply.
My brother is led away by two coppers I’ve not seen before, while Maloney undoes the handcuffs he slapped on my wrists.
Cruise’s head hangs low. His shoulders are hunched, and when Dad taps his shoulder he cries out in pain.
“I’ll be right behind you, son.”
Cruise doesn’t reply.
“Does Natalie know?” I don’t know why I care, but I do.
“Yes. Natalie's out by the car, waiting. I think Cruise will have more to worry about with her than he does with the police.” Mum rubs her thumb across my cheek. “I’m going to go with your brother.”
“I figured,” I scoff.
“Do you honestly think he’s done this?”
I drop my head. “Nope.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“I’m mad though, Mum.”
“I know. I know you are. We all are. I’ll be right back.”
And just like that, my parents abandon me, leaving me without my wife or my family for support.
“Morgan’s on the news,” Kylee screams.
Maloney’s shoulder catches mine in our haste to get to the television. I snarl but keep running.
Three backs create a shield in front of the television. John, Ronald, and Kylee stand so close it’s impossible to see.
“Move,” I yell.
They don’t.
Clutching my shoulder with my hand, I push myself beside Kylee and stare at the picture of my wife filling the screen. Her brown eyes are soft and gazing straight into mine.
“Local Rockhampton woman Morgan Banks is still missing after another long day of searching by the police and SES volunteers. Hope for her safe recovery is dwindling for this small community, and the family are co-operating and offering any information they can to assist the Rockhampton police.”
The image changes from that of Morgan to a video of a stretcher with a blue tarp covering it. It’s held upright by men dressed in white coveralls as they carry the stretcher up a small embankment.