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CHAPTER TWO
SIERRA HUMMED ALONG to an imaginary tune in her head. Only a few more minutes and she’d be home. Her detour to show Reed the police station in Kingscote had added a good fifteen minutes to her trip, but at last she was nearly there. Her bed was calling. She probably wouldn’t eat, just fall in between her sheets and sleep. She couldn’t be bothered starting a fire to heat the place. It’d been a long two days. The last fifteen kilometers or so of the road to her house was all dirt, but she was used to driving here now, even in the pitch-black of night. She loved navigating around KI. In the daylight, driving here was like going down a wooded tunnel, sometimes the gum trees hung so close they were just a soft, green canopy over the sky. And at other times, the hills rolled away from the car on either side, a lush green now the winter rains had come. But even when they were a dry, scratchy yellow, burnt by the sun’s summer rays, everything seemed more intense out here. More extraordinary. More real. And the sky. It was such a fierce uncluttered blue. She could breathe the sweet, clean air and not feel hemmed in. Claustrophobic. She could forget for a while.
Her phone rang, but Sierra ignored it while she was driving. She chanced a quick glance at the screen. Bloody hell, it was Blake. Again. Eventually, the phone stopped its musical jingle and there was a ping to let her know he’d left a message. Sierra’s brow furrowed. Blake was becoming a problem, and she wasn’t quite sure how to address it.
Two years ago, she and Blake had dated briefly. Blake was quite a bit younger than her, a visiting biologist on KI to study the Glossy Black Cockatoos. She’d been flattered by his open admiration, and because she knew he wasn’t staying, had given in to temptation. He’d been hot, and intense, but Sierra had let out a sigh of relief when he finally left the island to go back to his university and his project. The problem was, Blake had recently returned to KI. He’d phoned her about a month ago, and delightedly told her he’d taken up a full-time position on the island as a local ranger. He was ecstatic with his new job and wanted to take her out to dinner in Kingscote to celebrate. Sierra’s heart sunk at the earnestness in his voice, and she’d tried to let him down gently, saying she was busy. It’d been great while it lasted, but she wasn’t interested in reigniting something that’d only ever been a fling for her. Blake had phoned her a few times more in the past month, but she’d always managed to come up with a vague excuse not to see him. It was too late to wish he hadn’t got the job on KI. It seemed like she needed to get more forceful with him, as he wasn’t picking up her subtle hints. She didn’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings, but if that’s what it took, then so be it.
Looking down at her phone once more, to check it really had stopped ringing, she caught sight of the small package Evan had given her. He’d practically jumped in front of her car as she was exiting the ferry tonight. Sierra wondered vaguely if it was a hobby of his, standing on the sidewalk watching the cars disembark from the ferry. He was nearly always there whenever she returned home from a visit to the mainland. Evan ran the local newsstand and post office and he’d asked if she could take a small package out to one of her neighbors. He was a little bit odd, but Sierra felt sorry for him. Living on his own, no wife or kids. So, she always stopped to chat with him.
Lights twinkled through the foliage as she came over the last rise and headed down the incline towards Snellings Beach. It looked like Sam and Debbie were still up. Her closest neighbors were a good quarter mile away. This beach was small and isolated, with only seven other houses in the area. Most of them belonged to Sam and Debbie, who rented them out. Which meant half the time they were empty. Just the way she liked it.
There was also Terry, the artist who lived right at the end of the road. He was pretty much a hermit, hardly ever leaving his property. Sierra sometimes met him and his three dogs on her walks around the bay. He was a tall, spindly man, with a long, Father Christmas beard. Sierra had asked Debbie about him once, and even she didn’t know how old he was; she suspected he was in his late fifties. She’d never seen any family come to visit, and his friends were sparse, indeed. Supposedly, his sculptures were quite sought after on the mainland and he sold enough to keep his bills paid, and he was happy with that. There was also the rich middle-aged couple who owned the house next to Sam and Debbie. It was their holiday house, and they came over from Adelaide when they could. Sierra had only met them three times since they bought the place four years ago. And that was the extent of her neighbors.
Stifling a yawn, Sierra turned into her driveway and her house appeared, lit up by the car headlights, a dark shape huddled into the even darker shrubbery surrounding it.
But as she pulled up, a frisson of ice ran down her spine. Something was wrong.
The security light hadn’t come on. It was a motion-triggered spotlight that lit up her yard and front steps in a blinding light whenever a car came up the driveway.
That was weird. The bulb must’ve blown. She’d have to replace it in the morning. Her task of unloading the car just became that little bit harder, now she had to do it in the dark. With a deep sigh, she turned the vehicle off and listened to the engine tick and hum as it cooled down. Other night sounds intruded into her warm, safe space. A tawny frogmouth owl called from a sugar gum near the fence line, it’s deep, continuous oom-oom sound strangely comforting. A gust of wind rattled the spiky leaves of the grass tree near her front door.
There was no point in sitting in her car all night, so she undid the seatbelt and got out, deciding to go and unlock her door and turn on the hallway light to help her see to unload the car. The frigid night air hit her as soon as she got out, and she pulled her jacket from the front seat and hurried to put it on. Walking toward the steps that led up to her front porch, that eerie prickle of fear came back. Something didn’t feel quite right. It was hard to see in the dark, but she was so familiar with her front door she didn’t really need to see to fit the key into the lock and turn the handle. That tingling sensation was still there, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she fumbled with the keys, almost dropping them.
At last, the door swung open and she reached around to find the switch on the wall. Light flooded the entryway, and everything seemed quiet and serene.
Except…
Neither of her cats, Jon and Snow, were anywhere to be seen. Normally, they’d be waiting for her on the mat, meowing for their dinner, rushing past her as she opened the door to get in. But the house was eerily silent. Sierra stood in the doorway, undecided.
Stop being so stupid.She was a grown woman. She wasn’t scared of ghosts, or bogeymen, or things that went bump in the night. Squaring her shoulders, she strode down the short corridor and reached for the light switch that would illuminate her large, open-plan living space.
A scream filled the back of her throat.
Her normally simple, but stylish, room looked like a tornado had ripped through it. The coffee table was tipped onto its side, as was the small table at the end of the couch, the lamp smashed on the floor beside it. All the chairs around her dining tabled were also toppled over, and pictures that once hung neatly on the wall were either on the floor, or dangling at crazy angles. Framed family photos and candlesticks had been scattered everywhere.
Her house had been trashed.
What the hell was going on? She cast a jittery glance behind her. Was the person still here? Were they inside? Her stupid heart was beating so loudly in her chest she couldn’t hear if anyone was actually prowling around. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her pulse and listened carefully. Not a sound. Her house wasn’t big, only three small bedrooms, and this large living and kitchen area. Surely, she’d know if someone was still there. On stealthy feet, she crept across the room, sticking to the woolen rugs and away from the wooden floorboards.
As quick as a snake, her hand flashed in and turned the light on in the first spare bedroom. A gust of air flew out between her lips. The room was empty.
But before she could take an inventory of the room, another thought hit her.
Oh no, please let it still be there.
Sierra ran to her bedroom, ignoring the chaos of clothes and other belongings strewn everywhere. The bottom drawer to her dresser hung half-open. She dragged it all the way out, and scrabbled through the contents still left inside.
Sierra exhaled sharply as her fingers closed around the thing she was looking for. She’d know the feel of it, whisper-soft against her hand, no matter what. Holding it up to her face, Sierra breathed in the familiar smell of the pink fleece. Her daughter’s blanket.
Thank God the burglar hadn’t found it. But then again, why would they? It wasn’t like it was worth anything to anyone else.
Sierra sat back on her haunches and took another deep inhale of the baby blanket, still held to her face.
Sierra lifted a finger to touch the scar that ran beneath her hairline. It was barely visible, nowadays. Most people didn’t even know it was there. A tear rolled down Sierra’s cheek. She swiped it away. Now was not the time or place to get sentimental. She needed to find out if anything was missing. And then she’d call the police. Although, the KI unit only ran one on-call staff member at night, so she knew there was a high possibility they might not be able to send anyone out until the morning. If she called her neighbors, Sam would be over like a shot. Perhaps she’d do that. Most of the time, she loved living by herself. But in this instance, she might feel safer if there was someone else in the house.
Getting to her feet, she tucked the pink blanket under her arm and reassessed the bedroom. Her gaze swept over the top of the dresser. Everything was scrambled and pushed into piles, half of it on the floor. Most of the things she’d had up there were cosmetics, a few knick-knacks and her jewelry box.
Oh no, her jewelry box.
