CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Franklin, Slam and Maeve bunched around Harty, all staring at the head-and-shoulders shot on screen.
‘That’s not the bloke Georgie flagged as suss.’ Franklin brought the others up to speed. ‘But the name Matt Gunnerson supplied belongs to this friend of Rikki.’
Slam did a fist-pump.
‘Oh, hell.’ A pained look washed over Maeve’s face. ‘So there’s a definite connection between that poor child, Zena, and our missing three?’
Franklin’s mouth a grim line, he nodded, eyes pinned again on Wylder.
Mid-to-late teens, Caucasian, small close-set brown eyes, dark brown hair.
He took in the boy’s hairstyle, open flannelette shirt over a blue T-shirt.
Clean-shaven, neat and presentable.
He put himself in Hannah or Kat’s shoes. He supposed Haydn would seem to be a nice bloke, g
