Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER
Three days after he’d saved their beloved kitten, Caleb found himself back at Rhonda and Donna’s house, getting his hands dirty along with a couple of rallied local labourers, Cracker and his sidekick Zipper.
With the resident plumber away on a fishing trip, his fill-in holed up in hospital with a very close call of a burst appendix, and the neighbouring township’s tradies booked up to the hilt, there was no other choice.
Pausing to wipe his brow with the sleeve of his uniform, Caleb glanced up at the verandah as the relentless sun beat down from the clear sky, its fiery rays scorching through his uniform.
Nyah, with her long, thick curls pulled back into a haphazard bun, gave him a wave from where she was helping Rhonda clean up.
Brushing away a stray strand from her captivating blue eyes, she offered him a smile before she focused on the straw broom in her hand.
He was glad she’d agreed to join him here, instead of remaining holed up in her bungalow, counting the hours down until he took her to the airport the next morning so she could catch her plane back home to Cairns.
He didn’t want to even think about their goodbye.
It hurt too much. And considering how much Donna and Rhonda had doted on her when she arrived a few hours earlier, it had been the right call all round.
God she was beautiful.
How he wanted her, in every single way.
In another life…
Focus, Hart, focus!
Drenched with water and sweat, with every inch of material clinging to him, he drove his shovel into the unforgiving earth with fierce determination for what felt like the hundredth time.
Surely, after an hour and a half at it, they were almost there—this line of underground piping seemed as if it were en route to Timbuctoo.
Nevertheless, the rhythmic sound of metal slicing through soil echoed for another twenty-five minutes, broken only by occasional grunts of exertion from the two burly blokes beside him.
Having nearly reached the fence line, up behind the garden shed where weeds were creeping over an old ride-on mower, and now almost a metre deep, his shovel suddenly hit a compact mass.
He shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and peered down.
It looked to be a rolled-up blanket, but he couldn’t be sure.
‘What in the hell?’ he muttered.
Halting, Cracker and Zipper followed his gaze.
Not another word was spoken. Dumping his shovel then dropping to his knees, Caleb leant in and carefully brushed bits of earth aside.
His heart fired shots at the realisation that something was buried beneath the soiled terrycloth material.
Inhaling a sharp breath, he sat back on his boot heels and rubbed his stubbled chin.
Cracker and Zipper knelt at his side, looking at the discovery, then to him, eyes wide.
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.