As they chatted, Falk turned several more pages of the album. He was deep in high school territory now. Kim with her ponytail. Charlie’s hair was certainly a statement, although so was his younger brother’s, and Falk couldn’t stop himself flashing a grin at Raco. Raco was still rocking his son and laughed when he saw what Falk was looking at.
“Tread carefully, mate,” he whispered. “You’re one choice comment away from being invited to step into your car and drive yourself back to Melbourne.”
Falk smiled and turned another page. Footy games, parties, the usual rites of passage.
“God, look at that. I remember my own formal,” Rita said suddenly, leaning over for a closer look at the ill-fitting suits and shiny dresses. “I went with Caleb Maloney. Wait. Maroney?” She shook her head and turned back to the book. “And there’s Shane. Wow, he was big, wasn’t he? Even then.” She tapped a kid already head and shoulders above the others in the group shot. “And Rohan, there. Charlie.”
Falk pointed to a blond girl he also thought he now recognized. “Is that Naomi?”
“Let’s see.” Rita leaned in. “Yep. I’m sorry you haven’t met her yet. But she’s coming to the house tomorrow, by the way. The priest wants to meet you both.” She winked at Falk. “Brief you on your godparenting duties.”
“Okay. Sounds good,” Falk said, with as much enthusiasm as he could manage at that time of night, and Raco laughed.
“Power through it, mate. It’s a fifteen-minute chat.”
Falk smiled and went to close the album, but Rita put a hand out.
“Oh God, look at Dean,” she said, turning the page to better see a young guy captured laughing at something just out of shot. “That’s a lovely one. Zara should make a copy of that for Joel.”
“Let’s look.” Charlie leaned in and stared at the boy without saying anything more, then handed the album back.
“That’s Dean Tozer,” Raco said quietly to Falk over the baby’shead. “The bloke in that accident I started telling you about at the reservoir? With the memorial plaque. He died about—what? Is it five years ago this year?”
“Six.” Charlie didn’t have to think about it.
“Gemma’s husband.” Rita glanced at Falk. “Joel’s dad.”
Falk nodded. He looked at the man, back when he was still a boy. He had been stocky, with freckles running along his arms and a friendly, open face. Falk wondered what exactly had happened. Car accident, obviously. Unexpected, Gemma had said. The police were involved.
“Hit-and-run,” Charlie said, guessing his question. “Start of festival weekend that year. Early morning while he was out walking his dog.”
“Shit, really?”
“Yeah. Back when you used to be able to drive along the reservoir track. Some people used to try to go that way to avoid breath tests on the highway.”
“And it was at the Drop? Same spot as Kim?” Falk felt himself frown at that, and Raco caught the look.
“I know, mate.” He shrugged as best he could with Henry in his arms. “We all hear how that sounds, but the fact is, the rest of the reservoir’s pretty flat and safe. If an accident’s going to happen, it’s pretty much always going to be at the Drop. It’s a blind bend, then you’ve got walkers stopping there, catching their breath, looking at the view or whatever, so it’s a bad mix. That’s partly why they blocked the track off to cars after what happened to Dean. Service vehicles only now. So, I dunno. I guess that’s better, at least.”
Falk looked over at Charlie, who was frowning into his empty glass but had not reached for a refill. “I’m sorry, mate. That’s rough.”
“Thanks. Yeah. Dean was a good bloke. Kim was mates with him, too, so maybe—I dunno.” The frown deepened. “Maybe she was—” Charlie stopped again. He pushed his empty glass away and sighed. “Jesus. I really don’t know. Anyway. On that cheery note, think I’ll call it a night.” He pulled himself up with a low groan. “Or at least lie awake listening until my bloody daughter comes home.”
“Night, Charlie.” Rita watched him disappear inside, then shook her head. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she said in an undertone. “I can’t believe I brought up Dean.”
“No, it’s fine. He’ll be right. It’s just with Kim and everything else.” Raco rubbed her shoulder with his free hand and looked across at Falk. “Charlie and Dean were good mates at school and then again when Dean moved back here. So he took it pretty hard when he died. Obviously.”
“Shane, too,” Rita said. “I think maybe more so, even.”
“They were friends as well?” Falk asked.
“Yeah, all of them. Charlie, Shane, Rohan, Dean.” Raco looked at the album, still open on the table at Dean’s picture. “But Shane was first on the scene. He was out running and saw there’d been an accident. Had to make the call to the police.”
Falk nodded slowly. He thought about the memorial plaque, and pictured Gemma’s face across the restaurant table. He could guess the answer before he even asked, “So did they get the driver?”
“No.” Raco shook his head. A light went out somewhere inside the house, and Dean Tozer’s face darkened in shadow. “Never did.”
12
