‘I always thought Murphy was sketchy,’ Tom muttered.
‘Don’t,’ said Eliza. ‘Don’t you dare.’ She scrolled through the comments. ‘This is horrible . . .’
I have to tell someone, she thought, still shaky from the trip to the mountains. Before this gets even further out of hand . . .
‘Madison has posted her own video in response,’ said Tom. Eliza watched on his screen:
‘I know Jasmine’s dad, Mr Murphy, and I can promise you, he would never have taken the girls. Yes, I know that was my dad in the first video, making accusations against him, but he’s wrong: Mr Murphy is not that kind of man. He would not have done this! Please stop accusing an innocent man. For the sake of my friend – whose name we can’t say anymore – for the sake of her memory, we can’t waste time chasing the wrong people. If you want to confront Murphy, then come confront me first. My address is 23 Wirrawee Way, Limestone Creek.’
‘She just put her own address up on her video? Is she insane?’ said Tom.
The front door opened: Monica was back from visiting Wren at Tom’s mother’s house. She was in tears again, her make-up smudged, her hair in disarray.
While Monica came and kissed Tom, Eliza left the lounge room, heading into her bedroom, arguing with herself. Jack and Jasmine. It was time for her tell the police.
Did she have a right to? Was it truly even her decision?
She took a post-it note from her desk and quickly scribbled on it.
I give permission for Eliza Ellis to do what’s right.
Signed, E. Ellis
So that was that.
Con Badenhorst had left her his business card. He picked up on the fourth ring.
‘Detective? It’s Eliza Ellis.’
‘Everything alright?’
‘Yes . . . I mean, no. Not really. There’s something I should’ve told you. But you have to promise me, no one can know it was me who told you.’
‘What is it, Eliza?’
‘I do know who Jasmine was dating. But he couldn’t have been involved . . . he has an alibi, so I didn’t think I needed to tell you . . . He’s a good man, and —’
‘Who is it, Eliza?’
‘The teacher’s assistant . . . Jack Michaels.’
CHAPTER 20
CON
‘Thank you, Eliza. Let me know if you think of anything else.’
Con ended the call, resting his shoulder against the Masons’ front door, having just stepped outside to take the call.
Jack Michaels was dating Jasmine Murphy. Why didn’t I interview him sooner? Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .
But seriously, what the hell is wrong with this town?
Gabriella and Con had arrived at the Masons’ house only ten minutes earlier, and only then heard about Madison’s video giving out her address. Mrs Nelly Mason was in hysterics, terrified someone was going to kidnap Madison.
‘That stupid channel,’ she’d kept wailing.
Con re-joined Gabriella at the kitchen counter. It smelled of detergent and red wine. He sipped the coffee Nelly Mason had handed him, which had a faint soapy taste. Mr Bruiser, the trembling little whippet, was adding his own incessant yipping to the mix.
Jack Michaels, he thought again. Surely Detective Coops interviewed him. Did I miss the report?
He vaguely remembered someone at the car park mentioning Jack Michaels that first morning. Was it a parent? A search volunteer? Or Tom North himself?
When the girls were walking back from the camp, Jack had been at the front of the group and far from the action, but he still should have talked to him. Would he even have known what questions to ask? There was just so much going on, so much material coming into his inbox, and there were only so many leads Con could follow. Had he made a bad mistake?
I’m an idiot, he thought angrily. Jack Michaels was the one who found Eliza!
He wondered how he could tell Gabriella without Nelly or Madison hearing.
‘I’m sure Kevin will be back any minute,’ Nelly Mason was saying, fluttering around the kitchen, her platinum bob flicking as she cleaned things that already looked clean to Con. ‘I know you have so much else to do, but I will feel safer once Kevin’s home.’ It was the fifth time she’d told Con and Gabriella that. She glanced out the window. ‘Do you want tea or coffee?’ She saw the cups in front of them and gave a hysterical chuckle. Mr Bruiser kept yipping.
‘Could you take a seat, please?’ said Con, setting aside the coffee.
‘Of course,’ she said, sitting down beside him, a saucepan still in her hands.
‘Can you think of anyone other than Mr Murphy those condoms might belong to?’ said Gabriella.
‘No one,’ she replied instantly. ‘My Cierra wasn’t seeing anyone. I knew she always had bit of a soft spot for . . . Jasmine’s dad . . . but I would never have guessed —’
‘Is there anyone else she might’ve told who she was sleeping with? Or anyone who might know?’ said Gabriella.
‘No one,’ said Nelly.
‘Gee, thanks, Mum,’ came Madison’s cold voice. She was in the lounge, just off the kitchen, on her laptop. She had told them she was editing a memorial video for Georgia and didn’t have time to talk to them. She wore a luxurious purple dressing gown and her hair was wet. ‘I’ve already told you: Mr Murphy wasn’t banging Cierra.’
‘Don’t say that!’ Nelly shrieked, slamming the saucepan on the counter. ‘He was always too friendly with you girls! And . . . how could you give our address to the whole world?’ She sobbed and ran to another part of the house.
Mr Bruiser yipped and raced after her, leaving a puddle of urine on the floor.
There was a moment of ringing silence.
‘The condoms don’t belong to Murphy,’ said Madison again. ‘He’s a good man.’
‘Then whose are they?’ asked Con. Of course, the whole point of their visit had been to speak to Madison again, but they’d tried to be subtle about it.
‘Why do they have to belong to anyone except Cierra? Why does everyone freak out about the idea of Cierra having sex?’ said Madison. ‘She’s sixteen. If they were found in a teenage boy’s room, you wouldn’t even blink.’
‘Your parents seem concerned about it,’ said Gabriella, arching her eyebrow.
‘And again, if she was a boy, they wouldn’t care. Dad would be proud. I’m telling you: it’s not important. And Murphy has nothing to do with it.’
‘If you know something, you should tell us,’ said Con.
‘Because you’re doing such a great job with the info you’ve already been given,’ said Madison, flicking her wet hair back and fixing them with a stare. ‘Georgia is dead and you’re chasing up condoms and weed.’
‘Who did they belong to?’ said Con. He could hear Nelly’s sobs from next door. It meant she was in earshot – it was shaky grounds, but he was gonna run with that counting as her being present. ‘If it’s not important, why won’t you tell us?’
‘The person Cierra was sleeping with didn’t take her.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ said Con.
‘A rock-solid alibi.’ The face she made, just for an instant, confirmed it.