“What is up his arse, seriously?” I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“Eric’s a serious fellow, but good at his job. He’ll be wanting to get back to the station; don’t worry about him. He’s cool.” Maloney says that, but still watches his people in the same way I do. I can tell by the knowing nod that follows and the way his eyes remain focused. Always searching, and analysing ... He suspects everyone, just like me.
“He hasn’t called the landline,” I blurt out.
“Who?”
“The prick who has Morgan. There have been no more calls. Why?”
“Don’t know.” Maloney pistol grips his chin.
Maybe nobody else has realised we’ve had no more taunting calls, or perhaps they have but had hoped I wouldn’t.
“Let’s sit outside for a bit. You want a smoke?” Maloney shifts from foot to foot. I nod.
Maloney leans against the rail as I sit on the swing on the patio. He reaches into his pocket, retrieving the packet of cigarettes and the lighter. This time, he removes two cigarettes before placing the pack back where he removed it from. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” I offer a half-hearted smile.
The sweet, sweet taste of nicotine enters my lungs with more ease than it has previously. I don’t cough or splutter. Instead, I enjoy the rush of chemicals exploding in my brain.
Maloney stares past me. He’s in a daydream. I can tell by the way his head tilts to the side and the blank stare he delivers.
There’s a period of silence.
“My daughter, Mila.” He stops speaking, takes a deep breath, and sighs.
“Yeah,” I encourage him to continue.
“When she was two, she got sick.” Maloney looks into my eyes. “She’d been playing outside under the hose for about thirty minutes in the morning, and her mamma had put only a few centimetres of water into one of those shell pools. You know the ones?”
“Yeah.” I nod.
“She was all giggles and squeals. I’d come off the night shift. I was so fucked. A long night, a lot of drunk drivers to haul in, and way too much paperwork.”
I relax back into the swing.
“I watched Mila as she played. I watched as my wife created another memory for her. Sometimes, just admiring them is enough to wash away all the bad shit I see in my job.” Maloney crosses one of his feet in front of the other. “I towelled Mila off. Took her inside the house and put a new nappy and T-shirt on her. We sat together at the table eating watermelon. I still remember the streams of pink juice running down the front of her white top. I haven’t always been the smartest when it comes to messy toddlers and clothes.” He stifles a laugh.
“They make a mess,” I say, before taking a long draw from the cancer stick poking out between my fingers.
“They sure do.” Maloney sucks hard from the butt of his smoke, before flicking ash over the railing. “I went for a lie-down after that, and I was so deeply asleep that when my wife screamed for help, I didn’t hear her at first. It was the beating on my chest and her screaming by my face that jolted me awake.”
“Shit.” I cringe. Where’s this going?
“Mila was limp in her arms. She was on fire to the touch, and her entire body was covered in this nasty-arse rash. I couldn’t even explain it if I tried. Blotchy, red and fierce.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“It truly looked like someone had beat her.” Maloney takes another draw of his cigarette and slowly exhales. “I didn’t know what had happened, but I took her tiny, limp body and held the inferno that she was against my chest.”
I take in a mouthful of hot air before I flick my butt over the railing past Maloney.
“You should put those out before you flick ’em. It’s fire season, you know.” Maloney smirks.
“What happened?”
“We took a ride in the ambulance, sirens blaring, to the hospital. They whisked Mila away from us as soon as they rolled her and the bed through the emergency doors. I just stood holding my wife as she trembled against my chest. I wanted to take all her worry and fear from her, you know, but I couldn’t because I was experiencing the same fucking fear myself. Big strong copper I was, hey?”
“Puddle of mess on the floor instead?”
“Yep.” Maloney rolls the small butt between his fingers until the cherry pops out and onto the ground. He shifts his foot until he covers the burning cherry with the sole of his shoe. “The next time we saw Mila, she was in the ICU. Tubes and shit were coming out of every part of her body. A large machine was doing all her breathing because she couldn’t. Her organs had shut down, one by one, they told us. They prepared us for the worst.”
“She wouldn’t be coming …” My voice breaks. I clear my throat.
“Home? No. They said they weren’t sure what was happening, or why it was happening to her. They thought it was likely to be either leukaemia that had gone undiagnosed or some terrible bacteria that had invaded her body. I was in shock.”
“I couldn’t even imagine.”
“Five days I sat by my baby’s bed. I couldn’t leave her. I created her with the love of my life. She was my only child. Mila did improve slightly over a few hours, but remained critical.”
“Shit,” I breathe.
“We learnt she had a parasite in her body; it’s this deadly thing that lives in tap water. That fucking thing had gone to her brain. I worried she’d never grow up to be all we wanted for her. I kept asking myself, what if she could never say Daddy again? It broke my heart.”
My gut churns before it sinks low.
“And then on the sixth day, we had the priest come to the ICU and read her last rites. We were prepared for the worst, but we never let ourselves truly believe that Mila would leave us.” Maloney pauses. “Then, about an hour later, Mila magically started to breathe on her own.” Maloney tilts his chin and looks to the sky, to the heavens above. “By that night, she’d opened her eyes and was trying to rip out her breathing tube. It was a true miracle, Reid. Mila’s proof they happen.”
Maloney smiles. “And you’d never believe the first word out of her mouth was Daddy.” Silent tears stream down his face. “I never gave up on her. I knew she had my fighter’s blood inside her and her mamma’s positive spirit. My little girl came back to us. She was my perfect little girl after a few months of rehabilitation.”
“Why are you sharing this with me?” I wipe my brow—it’s dripping with sweat.
“Because I can sympathise with all the emotions inside you. Because we’re becoming fast friends.”
“Is this why you’re the one left to babysit me? Because you best understand my situation?”
Maloney chuckles. “Mate, I don’t have to be here. You could have kicked us all out on the first day. We can’t invade your home.”
My lips pull tight. What the fuck?
“But I want to be here for you. You’ve done all you can to help us in finding Morgan.” Maloney pauses. “I know you worry that there may be someone on the force who knows more about how Morgan came to be where she is—hell, I’ve had my own doubts—but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. I think the kidnapper is someone Morgan knows well, or someone who’s known her well.”
“I thought it would be her ex, you know? But he’s dead.”
“His brother though—do you think he’s involved?”
“Winston helped her that night. That’s what you guys have told me. He knew where she was. Have you found Winston, or Vactrim, or whatever-the-fuck-he-calls-himself yet?”
“Not that I know of. All I know is he goes deep into the bush and spends days out in nature with no way of being contacted. Morgan said she was in bushland, and I’m just putting two and two together. Major alarm bells are ringing for all of us.”
“But they are looking for him, yeah?”
“Sure are. He’s our prime suspect. We’re also looking for your brother.”
“I can’t believe that Cruise would—” I can’t even say it.