Shadows of wildstone, p.15
Shadows of Wildstone, page 15
An electrifying ripple of tension passed between them.
‘This doesn’t look good, Hart,’ Cracker said with a shake of his head.
A smouldering cigarette hanging from his lips, his offsider nodded solemnly. ‘I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but a blanket. Buried in a backyard? Behind a garden shed?’ Shrugging, Zipper grimaced. ‘Should we take a closer look?’
Caleb didn’t want to jump to any conclusions either, but he had to silently agree. This didn’t bode well. Although it could be a family’s buried pet, for all he knew—fingers crossed that was the case. Extremely carefully, he leant in and lifted the mud-crusted edge of the blanket closest to him. No. It couldn’t be. The world wavered for a split second. He blinked. Took a breath. Steadied himself. What he saw made his blood run cold as the grip of fear tightened around his chest. Staring back at him were irrefutably human remains. The small skull, half-buried in the dirt, seemed to stare back accusingly, its empty eye sockets haunting him.
And his very first instinctive thought was…
Skye.
Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he refused to let it win. He hesitantly glanced in Nyah and Rhonda’s direction, relieved to see the two women hadn’t noticed them all kneeling at the corner of the little shed, staring into the earth. No matter what, no matter how this went, he had to remain the police officer. He had to make whoever had put this child here see justice. And he knew without a doubt this was a kid. The skull was too small to be an adult.
‘Officer Hart?’ Cracker’s unsteady voice wavered beside him. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Just give me a sec,’ Caleb replied quietly.
Drawing in a slow, steady breath, he closed his eyes against the sickening dread. He didn’t want to be the one to have to tell Nyah her little sister’s remains had been here all along, buried right beneath all their noses. It meant she no longer had the luxury of hope. It meant Skye Love had met with foul play. It quite likely meant that someone they considered a trusted local had done it. How else would a body end up being buried in Donna and Rhonda’s backyard? There was no way he’d lay any blame on them. They couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a child, especially one they’d loved dearly.
He ran his steely gaze over the surroundings, looking at details differently, suspiciously. Donna and Rhonda’s cottage sat on a block of about seven hundred square metres that met with the boundary of two other properties. William Keller’s. And Claire Love’s. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to process the grim discovery, while his body raced with a whirlwind of emotions—horror, sadness and a deep sense of responsibility. He knew what he had to do next, but the weight of it felt unbearable. Rising to his full height, he dusted off his trousers with deliberate movements, his sharp eyes still scanning the vicinity as if it might hold some hidden answers.
‘Officer Hart.’ Cracker’s hoarse voice grabbed Caleb from his thoughts.
He turned to both men, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation.
‘Hey, you lot, smoko’s ready!’ Donna’s voice suddenly carried from the verandah, startling all three of them.
‘Righto, thanks.’ Caleb offered a small smile that barely masked the concern in his gaze. ‘We won’t be long.’
The aroma of freshly baked pumpkin scones drifted, a comforting scent that spoke of uncomplicated times—butter melting, the sweetness of strawberry jam, the dollop of cream—but this discovery was going to be far from uncomplicated.
‘I’m going to call this in.’ The dark cloud hanging over Caleb grew more menacing. ‘I’ll explain what’s happening to the women when I’m done, so you two wait right here, and don’t touch anything, okay?’
The two grave-faced men nodded.
Making sure he was out of earshot, Caleb dialled the number of the main station over in the neighbouring township of Gunadi. ‘This is Officer Hart, requesting immediate forensic support at a Wildstone property.’ He cleared raw emotion from his throat while the woman at the other end of the line likely scribbled details as she asked him a few questions. ‘We’ve found human remains,’ he replied to the last one.
‘Okay.’ Her voice carried the weight of shock. ‘Let me grab Senior Sergeant Boston, he’s right here.’
There was a short, muffled pause. ‘Officer Hart, Boston here, make sure you keep everyone away from the remains; we don’t want to disturb any possible evidence.’ There was a weighted breath. ‘I’ll send some of my team over to you ASAP.’
‘Thanks.’ The sound of Nyah’s laughter carried, and Caleb glanced over his shoulder. ‘Can I ask how long ASAP will be?’
‘Give me an hour to gather the right team, tops.’
Caleb ended the call and took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was about to come. The likelihood of this being Skye was high—no other children had been reported missing in this area for as long as he knew. With an increasingly heavy heart, he offered Clacker and Zipper a solemn nod, then hauled himself towards the house, steeling his expression into one of neutrality.
How in the hell was he meant to say this?
As he approached the verandah, Nyah caught his eye and her smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. ‘Hey, is everything okay?’ She placed her half-eaten scone back onto the saucer.
‘I’m sorry, ladies, but…’ As he traipsed up the steps, he grappled to find the right words to say something so very wrong.
‘Caleb?’ Donna’s brow furrowed. ‘Whatever’s happened?’
‘Yes, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Rhonda stood and met him at the top of the steps. ‘Is it worse than we first thought?’
‘I’m afraid it’s way worse.’ Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Caleb met their gazes one by one before delivering the devastating truth. ‘We’ve found human remains.’
* * *
Nyah stopped breathing as she felt the creamy sweetness of Rhonda’s pumpkin scones turn to ash in her mouth. ‘Whose remains…did you find?’
Caleb hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying. ‘We don’t know for certain yet.’
‘So, you’ve discovered bones?’ She found herself standing up, now only inches from him.
Holding her gaze with compassionate eyes, Caleb nodded.
‘Adult bones, or are they a child?’ The horrific words tumbled from her trembling lips.
‘A child’s,’ he said softly, apologetically.
As she took a breath, his words hung in the air, suffocating her with their implications. ‘Please, God, no.’ Sobs rose, but she stifled them. ‘Please don’t let it be her,’ she whispered into her hand, feeling guilty for wishing such a thing. A child had died, and that, in itself, was horrendous.
She just didn’t want it to be Skye.
But deep down she already knew it would be prove to be her sister.
The way Caleb’s voice wavered ever so slightly, the haunted look in his eyes—it all pointed to one horrifying possibility. He believed it, too. The little sister she’d prayed was still out there somewhere, alive and well, having somehow forgotten the fact that she’d been taken, and living her best adult life, was possibly dead and buried, rotting away in a backyard like a piece of discarded trash. A shard of pain pierced her heart as memories flooded back—Skye’s infectious laughter, her bright eyes full of wonder, the way she would cling to Nyah’s hand whenever they walked side by side. Then her mother’s hatred when it was Skye, and not her, that went missing.
‘Nyah…’ Caleb’s tender voice crept into her consciousness. ‘We don’t know for sure yet, so please don’t think the absolute worst.’ His hand found its way to her shoulder, offering a solid presence to ground her as she teetered on the brink of despair.
‘I think you and I both know for sure, Caleb.’ Taking a deep breath to help steady herself, she smiled sadly. ‘I need to see her. Please. I need to know it’s her.’ Her voice was barely a whisper, the words almost snatched away by the heavy weight of the truth. Caleb’s hands came to take hers and comfort her. ‘I know how hard this is, and I understand you wanting to take a look, but I think it’s best if we wait for the forensic team, just in case we disturb any evidence.’
Caleb was right. And she hated the fact. All this time she’d waited for some kind of answer, and now she had to wait some more. Biting her lip, she tasted the tang of blood. Tears built and tumbled down her cheeks. She allowed them to fall. Because right now, her sweet sister deserved her tears.
Rhonda reached out a comforting hand, her grey-green eyes reflecting the anguish rippling through Nyah’s heart. ‘Oh, darling,’ she murmured softly. ‘As Caleb said, let’s not think the worst until we know for sure, hey.’
Nodding ever so slightly, Nyah felt her hands tremble within Caleb’s as the reality of what lay buried in Rhonda and Donna’s backyard hung heavy in her heart. Good Lord, she’d played upon this ground after her sister’s disappearance, had helped Donna and Rhonda plant the garden near the unearthed grave. As had her dad. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She glanced towards the trench the three men had dug, her gaze halting on the deep hole at the end of it. At the thought of such a place being Skye’s grave for all these years, she yanked her hands from Caleb’s and ran to the edge of the verandah, where she heaved up everything that she’d tried to swallow down into the Bangkok rose bushes beneath. Caleb rushed to her side, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as he tucked her hair behind her ear. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she turned into him, seeking solace within his arms, as her body convulsed with sobs that seemed to rack her very soul.
When the last of her tears had fallen and she had nothing left to give to the gaping maw of despair yawning inside her, Caleb drew her closer still. He whispered words of comfort into her hair, his embrace a lifeline in the storm of emotions that threatened to consume her whole. In her fragile state she clung to him, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her ear, grounding her into the present moment. A moment she’d both prayed for and dreaded, for so many arduous years—a possible answer to the question that had torn their family apart. And as they stood there in a silence that seemed to stretch into forever, the distant sound of sirens cut through the stillness, growing louder, shriller, with each passing second.
Reluctantly untangling from Caleb’s arms, she watched the forensic team as they arrived, clad in their sterile white suits and armed with tools to unearth the truth buried along with what she expected, with her heart breaking, to be her sister. Caleb squeezed her hand reassuringly before turning to speak with the older, solemn-faced officer he greeted as Boston. Held by both Donna and Rhonda, she remained at the edge of the verandah, watching as the team of five carefully began to examine the area. Feeling utterly helpless, she clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms as she tried to ground herself against the thundering beat of her heart. This didn’t feel real. Please, God, if I’m having a nightmare, wake me up. Now!
But this was real.
Heartbreakingly so.
Time seemed to fragment, implode, pause, then jitter as she watched them establish a perimeter with police tape, its blue and white checks an ominous barrier between the living and the dead. Kept at a distance, she observed their every gesture—the way they snapped on latex gloves, the systematic placement of tiny flags beside what she guessed to be potential evidence, and the soft murmur of voices discussing findings in technical jargon. Caleb stood at the helm of this orchestrated chaos, his presence commanding even amid such seasoned professionals as he pointed to something in the dirt. Something she couldn’t see. And very likely shouldn’t. Because once burnt into her brain, she’d never be able to unsee it. In hindsight, she was grateful Caleb had stopped her from looking. Wringing her hands together, she admired how his sharp brown eyes missed nothing, scanning the area as if he could motivate the secrets buried there to rise to the surface. And as the minutes ticked on, she kept catching herself holding her breath as she watched them gently brushing away more layers of earth. Cameras clicked during it all, capturing the tragedy from every angle, immortalising the young soul that had been embedded in the ground.
She’d all but forgotten about heading back to Cairns the next day; that certainly wouldn’t be happening now. She wanted to stay here until she got firm answers. Was this her sister? And if it was, who’d done this to her sweet Skye? And as the sun began to hint at its descent, casting long shadows over the yard, Caleb’s energy did not wane as he documented everything with precision and reverence. She could sense that to him, this was more than just a case to be solved. This was personal. Someone had to pay for their heinous sins. And she knew Caleb was the man to make that happen.
‘Careful, careful,’ he instructed in a low but authoritative voice as two men dug around the edges of the shallow grave.
Don’t hurt her, she thought, oddly, as each scrape of their tools revealed more of what lay beneath. She’s been hurt enough.
Another hour passed, and the sun, indifferent to human concerns, continued to fade, casting lengthening shadows that seemed to reach for the forensic team like dark fingers. All the while her mind raced with possibilities, each more ominous than the last. What secrets would this ground hold? As dusk fell, she watched Caleb’s gloved hands helping to lift the blanket from the earth, his touch tentative, almost reverent. As he and two other officers placed it onto solid ground, she noted the tense set of his shoulders, and the turmoil lurking in his eyes behind the facade of professional calm. And as they slowly began to unravel each piece of the grubby blanket, she leant in closer and closer, so she was as far over the barrier of the verandah as possible. Rhonda and Donna had her wedged between them, like a human barricade to stop her from racing down there. As much as she didn’t want to bear witness, she needed to see something, anything that would confirm, or deny, this being the remains of twelve-year-old Skye Love.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
A collective gasp rippled through the group as they, and she, caught their first glimpse of bones. Caleb’s face contorted then, with the back of his hand over his mouth and nose, he turned his face away, as if needing a moment to collect himself. The skeletal remains lay cradled within decomposing clothes, a polka-dotted dress that Nyah knew was one of her sister’s favourites. The very dress that had gone missing a few weeks before Skye’s disappearance, from the clothesline of all places, was her excruciating confirmation. Her breath hitched and her heart constricted in anguish. It couldn’t be true. This shouldn’t be happening. She’d always feared this day would come.
How was she meant to tell her father that they’d found Skye here, like this?
And that was when her knees hit the timber floorboards of the verandah, as Donna and Rhonda soothed and comforted her as best as they could. It was in this shared moment of realisation, acceptance and utter anguish that her fragile world cracked, crumbled, tumbled, tipped and ripped apart. Leaving her falling into a deep black abyss.
Nyah came back to consciousness lying on something soft, with Donna sitting close by—her face a picture of motherly concern and kindness. Groaning, she tried to sit up, but nauseating wooziness stopped her.
‘Don’t try and move too quickly.’ Donna rubbed her arm. ‘You passed out, sweetheart, and knocked your head, quite hard, on the railings.’
Nyah gently touched her forehead with her fingertips and felt a lump the size of a golf ball. ‘Ouch.’ She grimaced. ‘Any stitches?’
Donna shook her head. ‘No, just ice, and rest.’
She turned her cheek to look at the verandah floodlights illuminating the faces of Caleb and his team, now huddled together, and felt a shiver run down her spine. Here, in this unassuming backyard, the past was clawing its way into the present, demanding to be heard and reconciled. For her, it was as though the very earth was echoing her own hidden yearnings—for resolution, for answers, for an end to the haunting void left by her sister’s disappearance. And as she lay there, her bright blue eyes darkened by the weight of memories, she realised that this broken pipe was the beginning of a journey both dreaded and longed for—one that would lead her down a path towards long-buried secrets and a truth that had been waiting to be uncovered. Was her mother working from the other side, using her ghostly powers to shed light, finally? Was Skye with her, telling Claire where she was buried? Was that why she’d been feeling as if someone was following her? The very thought made her tremble.
Numbly, with Donna and Rhonda’s help, she sat up, unable to tear her eyes away from where the remains of her beloved sister lay wrapped up now. Her mind was reeling with emotions and memories, all jumbled together in a chaotic mess. She draped her arms around her knees, trying to shield herself from the chill of reality that was settling into her chest. Silhouetted against the bright floodlights, Caleb’s figure stood strong and resolute. As if sensing her gaze on him, he turned to face her. They exchanged a glance that conveyed a shared understanding—partners in pursuit of an eerie truth—and his resolute expression told her what she ached to hear.
We’ll find out what happened to her. I promise you.
Tears pricked as she acknowledged him with a tiny nod. She desperately wanted to believe there was still a chance for justice and closure amid this tragedy, given that the evidence, if any, was now fourteen years old. Despite the overwhelming sorrow that threatened to consume her, a small flicker of hope remained within her heart like a stubborn flame refusing to be extinguished. She hoped they’d find a way to deliver Skye her overdue justice.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, the two words barely audible over the sound of her heart breaking yet again.
‘I’ve got you,’ he mouthed back, before turning his attention back to the man he’d called Boston earlier.
