There’s no knocker or bell, so Rick raps on the door. He waits a moment. But there’s no sound from inside the property, and no sign of Donald.
He tries once more. Knocks a little harder. But there’s still nothing. So he turns and heads back to the jeep. Disappointed.
17
MOIRA
It takes longer than she’d thought it would.
Her legs are starting to ache now. Her breath is coming harder.
She’d told Lizzie what she’d seen; that someone was watching them through binoculars from high on the hill. She’d tried to keep her movements casual, and hadn’t pointed to the place she’d seen the figure, wanting, as far as possible, not to alert them that she was coming. Then she’d set off in pursuit.
It’s futile though, really, given the time it’s taken to get this far – ten minutes at least, maybe longer. Anyone who’d been up here, if they had any sense and didn’t want to be confronted, is probably long gone. No one has passed her, though. So maybe there’s the possibility, slim though it is, that they’re still on the hillside. Still watching Lizzie down below in the park. Because she’d left Lizzie poolside, and took a shortcut through to the back of the park, ducking through a gap in the hedge and on to the Wild Ridge Trail. The trees lining the start of the trail had given her camouflage. That’s the moment she’d started running.
The trail is steeper than she’d anticipated, but Moira pushes herself harder. Pumps her arms faster. Lengthens her stride. Questions race through her mind in time with each footfall.
Is the blond guy watching me again?
Who are they? Why are they watching? What are they doing on the trail?
Are they the killer?
The light is fading as the sun sinks lower in the cloudless sky.
She pushes on.
Now she’s almost at the crest of the hill. The small group of trees is just a couple of hundred metres ahead. Their shadows seem to be reaching out across the grass towards her as she races towards them. She squints into the gloom, looking for movement. Looking to see if the person who was watching them is still here. It’s hard to see in the half-light, and the shadows make visibility even poorer beneath the trees.
But there’s no one.
She slows down when she reaches the trees. Alert. Still scanning the area for signs of life. If the person watching them didn’t pass her on the trail, they must have taken a different route down. She runs past the trees, looking for another path. Maybe she can catch them up.
A little way from the trees the trail splits into three. The middle fork leads out across the open grassland towards the border where Ocean Mist meets the adjoining district. The grass is long and dotted with wild flowers and gorse bushes. Moira can see a long way across the wide-open space and it’s empty. No sign of another person.
The right-handed path loops back around the crop of trees and disappears. She’s not sure if it really goes anywhere, but runs along it anyway to check it out, just to be sure, thorough. It keeps looping around the trees, and in under a minute she discovers it just joins up with the top of the trail she used to get up here. It’s a red herring.
She hurries back to where the trail divides. The left-handed path is the option the person watching must have taken. She glances around the trees again, making sure she really is alone, but there’s no one here. Breaking into a run she follows the left-handed trail. She prefers walking and swimming to running, but her fitness levels are pretty good, and right now she’s thankful for that.
The slope of the path starts off gentle, but that doesn’t last for long, and it becomes steeper and more uneven with every step she takes. Gravity pulls at her and it feels as if she’s losing her balance, but she doesn’t slow down. She can’t allow herself to slow down. There’s no sign of the person who was watching them yet, but they have to be on this path, and she has to find them.