“And unfortunately, Rita, that’s all there is to report.”
“For now?”
“For good, I think.” Falk kept his voice light. “But for a few very valid reasons. So yeah. It’s fine.”
He braced himself for a string of questions or reassurances or romantic plotting, but instead, Rita simply reached out and rested her hand gently on his. Her palm was warm and comforting against the back of his hand, and Falk suddenly felt his throat constrict. Out of absolutely nowhere, for one very long, very real moment, he actually thought that he might start to cry. He focused hard on the glass in front of him and swallowed twice, three times, until the sensation passed. Neither Rita nor Raco said anything, just sat with him, surrounded by the hushed sounds of night.
“Mate, I have to tell you,” Falk cleared his throat noisily, “Sergeant Dwyer thinks someone in your friends-and-family circle is lying about not seeing Kim that night.” Abrupt, he was aware, but at least it moved the conversation on. “He thinks it’s unlikely no one spoke to her, given how close you all are.”
“That’s what he was saying to you this afternoon?” Raco reached up, cracking his shoulder joints. He exchanged a glance with Rita, but neither seemed shocked nor even surprised. “I thought something new might have come out of the appeal.”
“No. He was asking about you. All of you, I mean.”
“Yeah, fair enough. I would, too, in his shoes. Wouldn’t you?” Raco reached over and splashed the remains of the bottle between their three glasses. “I like Rob Dwyer, but I don’t think he’s right about this. That was a busy night at the festival. Crowds like that? You could be next to someone and still miss them. And we all thought Kim was here for a few days, so the urgency to catch her right then wasn’t really there.” He glanced at Rita, who nodded. “Not for us, anyway. And that’s before you even wonder if Kim was actively avoiding people she knew, for whatever reason. Mental health, who knows?”
Falk could see that Rita agreed and, thinking about it, he was inclined to as well. Not least because he suddenly—again—pictured Gemma. They had both apparently spotted each other last year without the other noticing. It wasn’t impossible at all. “So you’re not worried?”
“About that?” Raco shook his head. “I know there’s a personal connection with Dwyer having worked with my dad, but if he reallythought there was something solid to pursue, he’d do it. And—” He glanced past Falk, to his brother’s house. The kitchen lights were on, but Falk could see no movement inside. Still, Raco’s voice dropped a notch. “The fact is—and Dwyer knows this—all the alibis are pretty good. For everyone in Kim’s circle.”
“You’ve checked them out?” Falk said and glanced at Rita, who raised her eyebrows a fraction over the rim of her glass. This was not news to her.
“Yeah, look, don’t shout it around the dinner table or anything,” Raco said. “But yes, of course. And not because I don’t trust my own friends and family. Because I do. But Kim was family as well. And there are always going to be questions around something like this, so I’d rather know what we were all dealing with than get a surprise.”
Falk nodded. He could see a shadow in the windows now. Zara maybe. “So the movements on the night are good?”
“Yeah,” Raco said. “Not perfect, but when are they ever? Most people were on the festival site all night, seen multiple times by one or more people. When it comes down to it, I’ve heard a lot worse. You would’ve, too.”
“Who are we talking about?” Falk said. “Charlie? Shane?”
“Yep.” Raco’s voice was very quiet now. “Rohan, obviously, although we know where he went. Naomi. Gemma. Zara, I guess, if we’re being really thorough. Us—” He waved a glass toward himself and Rita. “You, technically.”
“Good enough to rule them out?”
“In the real world, yes.” Raco nodded. “And I say that as someone who cared about Kim. But yes. There are gaps of a few minutes here and there, but we’re talking short. Not hours, not even half hours. No one left the site alone, except Naomi, and Zara and Joel both saw her heading home. Shane drove back here to the vineyard a bit before 9:00 p.m. to grab another couple of crates. But he’s on CCTV leaving via the main exit, and he passed one of Charlie’s seasonal workers on the way back. Stopped to give her a lift the rest of the way to the festival and was back at the stall quick enough. Time frame’s reasonable.”
Falk nodded. That was useful to know, at least. If Raco was satisfied he’d checked things out, then he’d checked them out.
“But—” Falk glanced at the guesthouse door and pictured the folder of Raco’s notes sitting on the bedside table, thick and meticulous. “You do think something’s wrong.” It was a statement rather than a question.
“Well. Not exactly.” Raco hesitated. “Look, it’s nothing solid. But it’s the baby for me. Kim leaving Zoe alone like that. I think about our two—” He and Rita both instinctively turned toward the house where Eva and Henry were sleeping. “And I cannot imagine Kim doing that. I just can’t. There were so many people around who she knew and trusted, why not leave Zoe with someone? She could have made any excuse—anything at all—and handed over the baby and walked away, but at least then she would have known Zoe was safe. And, okay—” He glanced at Rita, and Falk could tell they’d had this conversation before. “I know people do things that are out of character when they’re struggling. I get that. But that was seriously out of character for her. So much so.”
“Right.” Falk looked over to Rita. “What do you think?”
Rita reached across and took her husband’s hand. A silent, private warmth passed between them. “Honestly, I think mental health can be complicated. I’m not sure it helps to judge what Kim did that night against the woman we knew.”
Raco squeezed her hand. “Look, you’re probably right.” He sighed. “It’s just when I think about Kim, I can’t believe this was—I dunno—herending.Something this bloody sad and lonely. She deserved a happy life. Better than this, anyway.”
They fell silent, and Falk could hear the breeze whisper through the vines.
“Maybe there is something else, though,” he said finally. “Joel’s sticking to his guns about Kim not leaving the festival by that exit.”
“She did, mate.”
“But there are other ways to get to the reservoir, he’s right about that—”
“It doesn’t work—”
“But if she went another way, then it opens up—”
