17
Anna Blaine stared absently at the ever-changing landscape rushing by outside the large window of the tour coach as it headed back to Alice Springs. In another time, she might wonder in awe at the beauty of the Australian outback unfolding across her field of view; not now, however. Not in this life, and probably not in the next, if karma played any part in it.
Anna was angry — angry with herself. Every night since the robbery, peaceful, un-tormented sleep had eluded her, leaving her feeling constantly tired and emotionally spent. Triggered by the reality of the bank teller’s murder, in particular her involvement in it, she found herself constantly thinking about the young man whose life had been cut so prematurely short.
There was nowhere to hide; it was all over the television and
