And she’d had half an hour’s start.

‘She was pushing the wheelbarrow?’ Alistair asked, and Max nodded.

‘Yeah.’

‘Then we can follow the tracks, surely?’

‘I don’t like our odds,’ Larry told him. ‘In this wind?’ While they’d been speaking the wind had been strengthening. Sand was swirling along the street, leaving a film over everything it reached. Half an hour… Maybe they could follow it. Maybe not.

Probably not.

‘You have no idea which way she went?’ Larry asked, and Max shook his head.

‘I’ll fetch the trackers,’ Larry said grimly. ‘We’ll get everyone on this straight away, fanning out between here and the wreck. Alistair, go and fetch Sarah. I suspect what we have here is a terrified woman who’s beyond reason. A terrified woman with a gun. I used Sarah for negotiation once before, and she’s good.’

‘You won’t put Sarah in the firing line?’

‘She’s a cop. A good cop. Sure, she’s a medical specialist, but she’s also done basic training in police work. This is her job.’

‘Right,’ Alistair managed, and Larry gave him a strange look.

‘Look, I don’t put my officers in the firing line without due cause,’ he told him. ‘But Sarah’s a woman, and that might help. Besides…’ Larry gave a rueful grin. ‘It’s more than my life is worth not to tell Sarah what’s going on. The lady has a temper.’

Alistair had to agree with that. ‘She has.’

Another strange look-but Larry didn’t have time to waste on anything but imperatives. ‘Let’s move, then,’ he snapped. ‘I don’t want anyone working alone. Max, do you want to help?’

‘I sure do.’

‘Then how about waking any locals who might be useful and organising teams? We’re not trying to arrest this woman-I want no one going near her until I have Sarah on hand to help-but I want to find signs of where she might be.

Alistair, I want you to stay here. If the woman’s stealing medical supplies then maybe she’ll figure that she needs a doctor. I want you to be here if she comes back.’

‘But…’

‘Stay,’ Larry snapped. ‘But wake Sarah for me.’

‘Sure.’ He had no choice. Alistair left them and strode around to the doctor’s quarters.

Sarah’s bedroom door was wide open. She was gone.

Alistair was worried, but Larry wasn’t. ‘We can’t wait.’ The detective was annoyed, but not concerned. Sarah’s nightgown was neatly folded and her bed made. Every sign said she’d gone somewhere of her own accord. ‘What a day to decide for a morning walk.’

He checked his watch. ‘We were supposed to be leaving at six,’ he told Alistair. ‘That’s in less than an hour, but by then there’ll be more sand obliterating tracks. We’ll move without her.’ He motioned to the radio on his belt. ‘Contact me the minute she gets back and I’ll organise to meet her. We leave now.’


Barry watched the searchers leave-a team of the police force’s crack searchers with locals attached.

No one had come near him. No one wanted him. He was a cop with local knowledge and they didn’t want him. The thought made him feel so angry he was almost numb with rage.

He could tell them where to look. He could.

Not one of them came near him. No one asked his advice. The knot of resentment and rage twisted his gut until he felt as if he was going to vomit. But as he settled-as he watched the last of them leave-the resentment turned to a fierce determination.

He could do this.

His gun was still in the safe at the back of the police station. His suspension wasn’t official yet. Larry might have the clout to take him off the case-to tell him to take leave pending an inquiry-but he didn’t have the authority to do more. So if he discovered whoever was out there north of the town he could make an arrest. It might have to be a citizen’s arrest, but it’d still be an arrest.

They’d look pretty stupid when they came back from a day’s hunting and he had them safely in the lock-up.

It might even help.

If he’d been taken off the case then he shouldn’t wear uniform. He should wear plain clothes.

But the pain in his gut was still there. The fury. He was a cop. He was a bloody good cop. Why shouldn’t he wear what he liked?

He liked his uniform.

And he liked his gun.

Determination building by the minute, he dressed and loaded his gun. He checked that no one was watching and made his way outside.

He turned north.


‘Noa, we need to take Azron to hospital.’

There was no answer. The woman had her back to the cliff face. The gun was pointing straight at Sarah.

Sarah had done all she could. She’d set up a drip. Fluids were the most important thing. The child had lost far too much blood and his fluids were badly depleted. Even if his father was a doctor, there were limits to what he’d have been able to do.

The child should have had plasma and saline two days ago.

She didn’t have plasma now. She only had the saline that had been with Alistair’s kit.

And antibiotics. She had them running through the drip now-thankfully Alistair’s bag was really well equipped-but the child’s rampant infection needed stronger ones than she had available.

She’d checked the wound. It had been cleaned but it needed debridement, and Sarah was fairly certain that slivers of metal were still embedded deep.

She wanted X-rays. More-she wanted an intensive care unit. He must be severely anaemic. His whole body seemed to be shutting down. His breathing was so weak. There was no oxygen. She had a mask, but no cylinder.

‘Noa, please…’

‘Just fix him.’ The woman’s voice was harsh.

‘You need help yourself.’

‘No.’

Sarah sat back and looked at her. Looked at her drained, exhausted eyes. Looked at the stained bandage around her wrist.

‘Let me help you.’

‘No one can help me.’

‘I can help you,’ Sarah said softly. ‘I’m a doctor. I have nothing to do with the man who shot your husband. I have nothing to do with the immigration authorities. All I know is that you’re in trouble.’

‘No.’

‘At least drink something.’ Sarah made a movement to the stockpile of water and the woman’s hand jerked. The gun followed Sarah.

This was hopeless. Dreadful.

‘I’m getting you water. And then I’m going to treat your arm.’

‘Look after my son.’

‘I’ve done all I can for Azron. He’s in the shade. He’s being rehydrated. I’ve started antibiotics. But when your husband and your son are both well then they’ll need you. You need to be well, Noa.’

‘Stay…’

‘I’m not going to stay,’ Sarah said, keeping her voice soft and steady. Her eyes didn’t leave Noa’s face. ‘I’m going to look at your arm. You can shoot me if you must, but that’s a really stupid thing to do. All I want is to help you. Point the gun at me all you want. But I’m helping.’


In the house next to the general store Mariette saw the searchers and made her own decision. Donny had been vomiting intermittently all night and it had gone on too long. She was starting to worry. If the search team was out, then surely Dr Benn would be awake?

She phoned, and three minutes later Alistair appeared.

‘I’m glad of the work,’ he told her as he gave Donny an injection. The little boy was dehydrated, but the metoclopramide worked fast. This tummy infection had been spreading through the local schoolchildren and he wasn’t too concerned. ‘I’m not very good at staying behind waiting for news.’

‘I imagine you’d all be worried,’ Mariette told him as she saw him out. ‘I wish there was some way I could help. All I’ve done so far is donate a sheet.’

‘Donate a sheet?’

So she told him about the missing sheet, and as she did Alistair’s unease deepened. There was someone else near town, then? Was someone hiding closer than the wreck?

Where was Sarah?

He didn’t want to wait, he thought fiercely. He wanted her back here now!

By the time he returned to the hospital it was six o’clock, and his concern was growing by the minute. Sarah’s bedroom remained ordered and neat. No one had broken into the hospital. Flotsam would have barked. Nothing was out of place.

She must have gone out of her own free will.

She wouldn’t have walked south. He sensed that. When he’d left her, her emotions would have been in as great a turmoil as his. How could she have slept?

She wouldn’t. If he was Sarah…

She would have gone to the beach, he decided. She would have walked into the rising sun, north-east, where the dawn was a glowing fragile beauty.

He knew it. He knew it in his gut.

So was she out walking now? Still?

Surely not. She would have known that the searchers were leaving early and she’d said she’d go with them. She was here to do a job. No matter what turmoil her life had become, her job was still important to her. She cared about the people in the plane.

She wouldn’t have forgotten.

He paced. The little hospital slept. No one needed him.

He should stay. He should stay and wait.

But more and more his gut was telling him something was wrong. Who had taken that sheet? Where were they?

He was going nuts.

‘Claire…’ He walked through to the nurses’ station and found the charge nurse. ‘Claire, I’m going out for a bit.’

‘I thought you were supposed to stay within calling range.’ Claire put her head on one side and surveyed him with interest. ‘Are you heading towards the wreck, then?’

‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m going for a walk. Along the beach. North.’

‘Taking Flotsam?’

‘No.’

Claire frowned. ‘Is that where you think Sarah might have gone?’

‘It might be,’ Alistair said shortly, and left before her bright interest could respond with questions he had no way of answering.


It took patience and courage to work with that gun quivering so close to her, but by the time Sarah had rebandaged Noa’s arm and forced her to drink and to eat the woman had stopped her fearful trembling. Azron started to stir, just a little, and on instinct Sarah lifted the tiny boy and carried him to his mother. It was tricky with the bags of fluid, but she managed.