‘Pick up, pick up.’ Siren blaring, lights on, Liz sped through the outer suburbs. The phone was on redial to the cottage. Vince’s mobile hadn’t picked up either.
She slowed to go around traffic and the redial dropped out.
When her phone rang she stabbed the button. ‘Vince?’
‘Just Pete. Have you reached him?’
‘No, god dammit.’
‘I’ll get there before you. Terry is on his way. Half the force is on its way.’
Abel Farrelly killed his own parents. That’s what Pickering began to tell her.
‘Can you get fire trucks out there? It’ll be CFA where he lives.’
‘And ambos. Will cover the lot.’
‘CIRT won’t get there before us. Just don’t b****y get shot, Pete.’
He chuckled. ‘Love you too.’ He hung up.
She couldn’t muster a smile. Too many hours had passed since Carla overheard the plan to kill
