A Time to Run (3 page)

She wondered if anyone had started looking yet. Had Candy made it home? Had she noticed Sammi wasn't there? How long until Gavin started calling again?

Closing her eyes, Sammi pictured Gavin, calling to mind every detail of his face. Why had she become so angry about a simple bank account? She would give him every cent she had if he needed it, and he'd do the same for her. She should be safe in their bed right now, with Gavin curled behind her like a question mark. She knew with certainty that he would be the one to raise the alarm when she failed to return his phone calls and didn't show up at their home in the morning. He kept his softer side covered – Sammi had seldom needed it – but she had repeatedly seen his tenderness with his mother before she passed away.

It was daylight outside now; that much she could tell, but no more. She had no idea how much longer she would need to endure this ride. The minutes bounced in a jumbled mess around the tray of the ute with her. Part of her wanted the ute to stop, but she knew while she was trussed up alone in the back, nothing worse was happening to her. She had no doubt things were going to get a whole lot more dangerous once they came to a stop.

She wriggled around so she was kneeling with her back against the motorbike. She felt the wires coming down from the handlebars to the chassis. She fingered them, trying to find one in the middle, one that would be less obvious. She gave it a sharp tug. Nothing happened. She tried pulling it upwards, leaning her weight forward. There was a grating sound as whatever was holding the wire in place gave way and it came loose. She followed the wire down with her fingers and tried to tuck the loose end back into the clump of wires so that it was not immediately obvious. That was the best she could manage. She had no idea which wire she had just pulled loose, or even if it would stop the bike. With her luck, she'd probably just disabled the left blinker. But anything was better than nothing. It might make him angry at her, but any consequences would be balanced against the time she could buy for herself. Slowly she lowered herself back onto the tray of the ute. She pressed her face against the cool metal and thought. Right now, all she could do was wait and see what happened next.

Saturday 8:40 am

Gavin dialled Sammi's mobile number, thinking exactly what he'd say when she picked up. He was certain she would answer. Their fight was yesterday. They'd both had ample time to cool off. He would tell her he loved her as soon as she picked up, before she had a chance to hang up. She had won, he would grovel. It had been a long night and he would apologise if it meant she came straight home.

Sammi's phone went straight to message bank. Why was it turned off? Gavin didn't bother leaving a message. His feeling of unease increased. It wasn't like Sammi to have her phone off. But it was possible she might have had it turned off during her night on the town and had forgotten to turn it back on.

He ferreted around in Sammi's bedside drawer and pulled out an old address book. He riffled through the pages till he found Candy's home number. After the phone rang out three times, Candy answered. He guessed he had woken her and he couldn't care less.

‘Where's Sammi?' he asked without preamble. ‘She needs to get on the road if she's going to be back in time for her shift.'

Gavin heard Candy calling Sammi's name, her voice thick from too much alcohol and not enough sleep.

‘We didn't come home together,' Candy said.

‘Go and see if her car's still there,' he said. He heard her puff a little as she walked around the house, opening doors and calling Sammi's name.

‘I can't find her,' Candy said, ‘but her car's still here.'

‘Where did you see her last?' Gavin snapped.

‘Um, Lion's Head at Inala,' she answered.

‘And where is Sammi now?' he asked in a hostile, controlled tone.

A moment's pause.

‘I don't know,' Candy replied.

Gavin had to bite his tongue to stop from yelling and swearing at her.

‘Well,
who
does?' Gavin asked, spitting out each word slowly and clearly.

‘Umm . . .' Candy started, then trailed off into a confused silence.

Gavin hung up and threw the phone at the couch.

Saturday 8:50 am

The ute lurched to a stop. Sammi watched with intense relief and fear as the crack of light at the tailgate widened. Sunlight flooded the tray of the ute. She blinked, half-blinded by the sunshine, but did not want to shut her eyes. She didn't see the hand grab her ankle, and could do nothing as she was yanked forward. The tape across her mouth was ripped off in a single movement that made her skin sting and her eyes water.

Despite herself, her stomach heaved and the vomit she had fought so hard to keep down spewed forth.

‘Dirty bitch,' a male's voice growled.

She was wrenched off the back of the ute and flopped heavily to the ground. Another heave of her stomach, and she let the vomit come. Her eyes adjusted and she was looking at a pair of black boots against a bush backdrop. She rolled slightly onto her side so she could look at her captor.

It was the barman. He'd changed out of his jeans and polo shirt and was wearing a black T-shirt and camouflage pants tucked into army boots that laced up past his ankle. He was holding a large hunting knife, the fat silver blade curving into a sharp point.

She sucked in a shuddering breath.

‘You finished chucking now?' he asked loudly.

She nodded.

‘You're not going to try anything stupid, are you? We're in the middle of the bush. There's nowhere to go. It's just you and me. So you just listen and do as you're told.'

He seemed to be waiting for some response, so she nodded again. Then without warning, he lunged towards her with the knife. Instinct and reaction kicked in and Sammi rolled, tried to get under the ute.

She wasn't fast enough and Don laughed as he grabbed her by the arm. He hauled her into the open, wrenching her shoulder, her hands still bound. He was behind her and she just caught the flash of the blade of the knife as it swung downwards in a sweeping movement. She felt a stinging pain at her wrist and then her hands were free. She pulled her hands apart and brought them instinctively up in front of her face. She let out an involuntary gasp as she saw blood dripping from a cut on the outside of her wrist where he had nicked her.

‘Don't go bleeding too much now,' he said with a sneer. ‘The fun hasn't started yet.'

She held a finger across the cut to stem the bleeding. He reached in through the open window of the car, pulled out a water bottle and threw it to the ground in front of her.

‘There you go, have a drink. You'll need it,' he said.

She eyed the bottle, and then him.

‘No, thanks. I think I've fallen for that once already.'

He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But you're going to regret it if you don't have a drink now. You're going to need all your energy.'

She shook her head, just from stubbornness now. She was parched. Between the alcohol, the drugs he had given her and the sour tang of vomit, her mouth felt like the inside of a cat litter tray.

He left the water where it was and turned back to the ute. He went to the passenger door and Sammi caught a glimpse of movement through the window. A large brown dog leapt out of the front of the car. It saw her on the ground and started bounding towards her, tail high in the air and pointy ears swivelled forward.

‘Leave it,' the barman rumbled and the dog stopped a couple of paces in front of her, its black eyes staring. She didn't make eye contact with it. It looked like a pigging dog to Sammi, the type trained by hunters to flush out and bring down feral pigs. It had a large head to accommodate a fearsome set of teeth. Kilo for kilo, it would have weighed almost as much as her, Sammi estimated. This was no family pet.

‘Here,' Don growled again, and the dog turned and trotted back to his side. He seemed to have it under control. Sammi wondered what other commands it responded to. She had been to a job on a rural property, where the farmer had trained one of his dogs to attack on command. Capsicum spray had taken care of that dog – one squirt in its face to turn it around and one squirt up its bum to keep it moving.

She had nothing out here though. Only her body, brain and wits. She prayed that would be enough.

Saturday 8:53 am

Candy slowly and mechanically made herself a cup of coffee while she tried to clear the fog from last night. The phone call from Gavin had brought confusion at first, but anxiety was now coming to the fore. She carefully played through the events of the night, looking for clues as to why Sammi was not here and yet her car was.

Candy tried to recall Sammi's last words to her before she left, but couldn't remember more beyond the light-headed mass of open-mouthed kisses and sweaty bodies.

If she had been annoyed with Candy, surely Sammi would have grabbed her gear and her car and driven home? Everything was still here. Her overnight bag still stood next to the guest bed, which hadn't been slept in. There was no clue to her disappearance.

It wasn't like her. Sammi was the reliable one, the one who would make sure everyone else got home in one piece. Candy was the one who played it wild and loose, went out alone and let strange men take her home. She should be the one missing.

Candy felt a burst of anger. She jumped to her feet and stormed into her bedroom.

‘Get out!' she screamed to one naked man on the bed and another hogging the bedclothes on the floor. They struggled upright at her voice. She picked up their shoes and clothes and threw them at their owners.

‘I don't even know your names! Get out of here
now
!'

Last night's passion had evaporated in the morning light. The men hurriedly pulled on a minimum of clothes and grabbed wallets and keys before hurrying out the door.

Candy drew her gown closer around her and returned to the kitchen. She felt useless. Her hand was trembling as she reached for her coffee. She just didn't know what else to do.

Saturday 9:01 am

It was 9 am before Gavin went to the local station where Sammi worked. He knew everybody, having whiled away many hours over beers and snags on the patio at the back of the station. A lot of the staff also had their cars serviced at the workshop where he was employed as a mechanic.

The shift sergeant greeted him warmly at the front counter. Gavin knew that Bob Simpson was respected and reviled in equal parts at the station. He expected the junior staff to do their job properly and professionally, as he did his. Their attitude to Bob generally reflected their attitude to work. If they liked to do things in a half-arsed fashion and fly by the seat of their pants, invariably they did not like Bob, who went by the book in all cases.

Gavin got on well with Bob. He wasn't sure if this would make things easier or harder right now.

‘G'day big fella, what's goin' on?' said Bob, reaching across the counter to shake Gavin's hand.

‘G'day,' he replied.

There was a pause. Bob looked at him expectantly. Gavin wasn't quite sure how to start.

‘Are you looking for Sammi? I didn't think she started till twelve,' Bob asked, more to break the silence than expecting an answer.

Gavin nodded. ‘Yeah, twelve.' He took a deep breath. ‘Have you heard from her?'

‘No. Why?' asked Bob.

‘I think she's missing.'

There. He'd said it. The anxious worry he'd nursed all morning had been vocalised.

Bob looked at him intently for a moment without saying anything.

‘You better come on through.' He opened the door linking the front-counter foyer to the station and led Gavin through to the sergeant's office.

They sat down. ‘What do you mean “missing”?' asked Bob.

‘I don't know where she is and her mobile phone is turned off,' Gavin said.

‘What's happened? Why don't you know where she is?' Bob asked.

Gavin shifted his gaze from his shoes to just left of Bob's ear.

‘We had a bit of a barney last night. Nothing serious, just the usual. Bit of yelling and then we went our separate ways.'

Bob nodded, without further question. All Sammi's colleagues knew that she and Gavin got a bit noisy with each other sometimes. But they also knew there was never any violence. Everyone had their ups and downs – a bit of yelling didn't mean the relationship was in trouble.

Sammi had often spoken about Bob to Gavin. They got on well together despite their age gap. Sammi always tried to do her job properly and listened when Bob gave her guidance.

‘So you had a blue and she's taken off?' Bob asked.

‘Yep, I went for a jog and when I came back, she was gone. So were her toothbrush and overnight bag. I haven't heard from her since. I kept calling her, and one of her friends eventually answered her phone and said Sammi was staying the night with her. She's an old school friend of Sammi's, lives down in Brisbane. Her name is Candy and she's a bit of a wild thing. I got her out of bed about 45 minutes ago. Sammi's not there and Candy has no idea where she is. Sammi's car is still parked at her place and as far as she can tell, she didn't make it back to Candy's house last night.'

‘What makes you think her night out didn't just turn into a morning out?' asked Bob.

‘Well, this isn't like her . . .' Gavin began.

Bob gave him a quizzical look, and Gavin quickly continued. ‘I know you must hear that all the time with missing persons. But you know it's true. You know Sammi. Yes, we had a fight, but she's normally over it pretty quickly. She may not want to talk to me, but she hardly ever actually turns off her phone. She normally just lets it go to message bank or hangs up on me if she's still pissed off. But mostly, I'm worried because she's going to miss the start of her shift. It's nine now. She starts at twelve. Forest Lake is three hours' drive away. If she was going to make it back in time to have a shower, get changed, then get to work fifteen minutes early like she always does, she'd have left Candy's half an hour ago. But instead, her car's there, her phone's off and no one's heard from her. She can be as mad at me as she likes, but she's still going to turn up to work. You know that too. You know this is out of character.'