THE MAN SUPPORTED his injured arm by resting it inside his half-zipped jacket. After making a call with a burner phone, he walked slowly along Roseby Street. In the day, the historic Birkenhead Point shopping centre buzzed with activity. At midnight, Drummoyne resembled a ghost town. In many ways, the former rubber factory built in the 1800s belonged to the past.
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He pulled in behind a tree when he saw movement in a doorway across the street. A car approached and the figure sat up. Headlights illuminated a small-framed male hugging a bag to his chest. The boy couldn’t have been older than seventeen, dossing on the doorstep.
The man pulled his cap lower and donned dark glasses before crossing the road. His thoughts ran to the people he’d left behind. The family and friends he’d never see again. It was the only way to protect those he cared most about.
‘Someone will appreciate knowing you’re OK,’ he said, bending forward to hand the teen his phone. The pain in his shoulder and wrist clipped his breath. He cradled the arm tighter. ‘There’s enough credit to call home. Maybe a shelter for the night.’
The boy wrapped filthy fingers around the offering. ‘Hey –’
The man didn’t stop and continued on his way.
He used his good hand to pull the jacket collar up to his ears. Avoiding the marina’s security cameras he levered himself over the fence to the locked facility. With nearly two hundred boats moored, this was the largest privately owned floating marina on Sydney Harbour. Every berth had its own water access and power. Exactly what he needed.
The trawler-style hull made it easy to spot the boat he was after. A Riviera Clipper 34 motor cruiser. Water slapped between the boats and the pier. Ropes banged rhythmically on masts. The boats were covered in a cloak of darkness once clouds obscured the crescent moon.
If everything went to plan, he’d be cruising through Sydney Heads in the next hour or so. Away from the city and everyone in it.
Chapter 77
WITH HER FATHER still missing, Eliza Moss couldn’t face people tonight. Relieved she could postpone a client dinner, she hoped to take advantage of the quiet to think and focus on where Eric could have gone. Using forearm crutches, she eased on to the lounge and sank into the large cushions, exhausted. Her shoulders and hips ached.
The question played on a loop in her mind. Why hadn’t her father called?
The only answer was the one she didn’t want to face.
He wasn’t able to.
The thought made her heart beat faster and her breathing accelerate. Her father meant everything to her. He’d been the one to save her from an institution, made sure she was educated, cared for and loved. More than that, he taught her that she wasn’t defined by her disabilities. They presented specific challenges, but everyone had some disadvantage to overcome. How she faced difficult times, like this, defined her.
Part of her wanted to scream at him for leaving. Abandoning her. If Craig was right, somehow he had managed to live without any proof of who he was. How? The question haunted her.
He drove cars but managed to do it without a licence? She couldn’t face the possibility that he had lied to her and everyone else for all these years. The alternative was that his identity had been erased. Someone wanted every trace of him gone. Which meant something terrible had happened.
Hot tears dripped on to her shirt.
She consciously slowed each breath in, aware her lungs were already functioning well under capacity. Stress affected her physical resilience more than infection. She had to remain in control. Her father needed her to be strong now more than ever.
Felix was soon on her lap sleeping, as Eliza stroked his white fur. ‘Everything’s going to be OK. It has to be.’ For the first time in years, she prayed before falling asleep where she sat.
A bumping sound in the bedroom roused her. She immediately thought of Felix, but the cat was still asleep on her lap.
Craig had warned her to be careful. Someone was monitoring her movements and contacts. It had to be something falling in the laundry. The clothes hanger wasn’t that stable.
She lifted Felix off her lap and on to his own cushion and hauled herself on to her bare feet. Holding on to the lounge, then the wall, she listened from the corridor. Another soft thud followed.
Someone was inside. Heart hammering in her chest, she tried to stay calm. Maybe it was just a young kid looking for wallets, cash and jewellery. Her purse was in her bag on the kitchen table.
Her phone was in its charger, next to a marble Buddha statue on the hall table. She silently braced herself against the wall and reached for the phone to dial 000. Before she was connected, a large man in a dark jacket and black jeans appeared.
When Eliza saw the balaclava, she knew she was in trouble.
Chapter 78
ELIZA REACTED QUICKLY and grabbed the Buddha statue. Her best chance was on the floor. She was too unstable on her feet. Sliding down the wall, she flicked off the light switch and pulled the hall table over just as the man lunged. He tripped, hitting the wooden floor hard.
Eliza clambered backwards. A hand gripped her right ankle. With all her strength, she flexed her knee and lashed out. Her glutes may have been useless, but her quads were her strongest muscles. Her shoe connected with something solid, possibly a face. The intruder growled and released his grip.