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‘I had to ask,’ I said. ‘But it’s behind us now. Next obvious question… did you and Helena have any enemies?’

‘None to speak of.’

‘What about anyone giving Helena the eye? You know the type I’m talking about. She wouldn’t have to reciprocate for them to show an interest.’

‘I occasionally caught some of them Injun boys giving her the glad eye, but that was about it. They wouldn’t have done anything about it, they knew better than to mess around with me.’

Yeah, the back-up his boys offered made him a real force to be reckoned with, I thought sourly. Like they were going to put off anyone determined to catch Helena’s attention.

‘Anything out of the ordinary happen before or after Helena disappeared?’

‘What, like a ransom demand? No, nothing.’

I was floundering a little, not quite sure where to go with the questioning. I’m not much of a detective and right then I could have done with Rink or Harvey along: someone who knew how to conduct a real interview. It struck me again that I was tugging at a few loose threads — probably unconnected — and trusting too much in the coincidence that three of the missing four girls looked alike. But then again, coincidences do happen, and they often interlink to become synchronicity. And synchronicity can affect the eventual outcome of incidents in the real world. From his bunk, Rob muttered something. Scott and I looked his way, and he stood up and ambled towards us, hanging on to the trailer wall for support. ‘You’re forgetting about the Logans, Scott. Why not tell him about those crazy Logan boys?’

‘The Logans?’ I echoed. ‘Yeah, Scott, why don’t you tell me about them?’

He did.

Before he was even halfway through his story I was itching to get on my way.

The Logans — those crazy Logans — were definitely due a visit, and, judging by their local legend, I was pleased that I hadn’t wasted any bullets on Rob or Burt.

9

Jay woke up in a strange place. Stranger than even the two places she’d awakened in the past two mornings. For the briefest of time she’d no memory of how she’d got to this new place and she lay there, attempting to make sense of her surroundings. Above her was a ceiling so close that should she reach out with her fingertips, she would scrape her nails on the corrugated tin sheets. Spider webs clung to the grooves, old and dusty, and here and there corrosion had nipped at the edges of old nail holes to widen the gaps. Through the holes she could discern the pale blue of a sun-bleached sky. To both sides of her were walls made of timber that smelled faintly of creosote, and if she could see that far in the dim light she was sure that a similar wall would enclose the far end.

The heat was stifling.

She could barely breathe.

Panic struck and she tried to throw her hands out, to push up on the tin sheets, but a rope had been tied to each wrist and passed beneath her lower back. She struggled in vain to pull free, but all that she gained was chafed skin and less oxygen. Her heart hammered in her chest and she realised that she had to concentrate, to stop herself from hyperventilating, or she would pass out again and then she would be no use to anyone.

That random thought brought everything flooding back to her, all of the memories crashing down on her like an avalanche. She decided the crushing feeling in her chest was the weight of all she’d endured until she understood that she was still straining against the rope and it was actually the pulling of her overtaxed muscle fibres.

Finally she sank down, making an effort now to subdue her frantic breathing, to calm herself. But it wasn’t easy.

She recalled the incident at the gas station all those days ago, and the subsequent chase by the mad men in the pick-up truck.

‘Why didn’t I just keep my fat mouth shut, Nic?’

Her words came back to her, and not for the first time either, because never had a sentiment proved more exact. It was wholly unjust that she’d been so right then whereas her next statement had turned out so wildly wrong: ‘I won’t let anything happen. I promise.’

The second she’d seen the pick-up truck materialise from the heat haze she’d known they were both in big trouble. Nicole had known it as well, but had placed her faith in Jay to get them out of it. The problem was her promise had been empty: she’d no idea how she was going to stop the men from catching them.

As the truck had speeded up, Jay told Nicole, ‘Call nine-one-one, Nic. Tell the police what’s happening and to get here as quickly as possible.’

Nicole tried, but with no luck. ‘I can’t get a signal, Jay. We’re out in the desert… there’s no network coverage!’

‘Keep trying,’ Jay said. Beside her, Nicole bounced in the seat, her frustration at her cellphone manifesting itself upon her features so that she looked like she was about to implode.

‘It’s no use!’

The pick-up loomed in the rear-view mirror, growing exponentially so that all Jay could see was the front grille of the large truck. Momentarily Jay thought they were going to be pushed off the road and in reflex she jammed down hard on the gas pedal, winning them a few seconds’ respite as their car surged forward.

‘Oh God, oh God,’ Nicole cried like it was a litany.

‘Strap in tight, Nic,’ Jay yelled. ‘I think things are going to get worse.’

‘Why are they chasing us? What have we done to them?’

‘They don’t need a reason. They’re just crazy!’

As though to prove the point, the driver of the pick-up pulled alongside them, driving parallel in the opposite lane, and it was a good job that the road was otherwise deserted or they’d risk a head-on collision. From the passenger window leaned the young man with the straw-like hair. He was slamming his palms on the outside of his door and yelling obscenities. Jay yelled back, but that only caused the young man to lean out further and reach for her, as if intent on tugging her out of the window. Although it was practically impossible for him to do so, Jay reacted by swerving away, and her offside wheels went off the road and into the soft sand of the shoulder. The SUV was sturdy enough to power through the grit, but it was still enough to cause the steering wheel to judder and almost rip out of Jay’s hands. Beside her, Nicole screamed in terror.

‘Call the police, Nicole!’

‘I’m trying but it’s still no good!’

Jay yanked on the wheel, sending the SUV back on to the carriageway and again the pick-up truck hastened towards them. It was so close that Jay could have reached out and touched the hole where a wing mirror was once fixed.

She snatched a glance at Straw Hair and wished she hadn’t. He had pulled out a gun and was aiming the shining steel barrel directly at her face.

‘Pull over, bitch, or I’ll ventilate your goddamn head!’

In response, all that Jay could think to do was scrunch her head down into her shoulders and keep on going as fast as possible.

The pick-up continued to parallel them, easily matching them for speed. Jay wished that a huge rig would come from the other direction and smash the crazy men off the road, but she could see way across the desert and nothing moved except their racing vehicles.

‘Last chance, bitch. Now stop the goddamn car!’

The boom of the gun was so close that Jay expected to be dead in the next instant. She even pictured the hot bullet taking out the side of her face and spraying blood and brain matter all over Nicole. When she tore her gaze from the road ahead, she saw that the man was already lowering the gun so that the next shot wouldn’t be fired into the sky.