Turning her head back, she found Leighton was peering intently at the rust coloured soil beneath the windows.

‘Should I try the door?’ she called.

‘Sure,’ he responded, without looking up.

Vicki reached towards the steel door handle then hesitated. ‘Hey, what if they need to, you know…’

‘What?’ Leighton called.

‘I don’t know.’ She searched for the right words. ‘Maybe check for prints later?’

‘They can discount yours,’ said Leighton, who was crouched near the ground, peering at the garden gate. ‘I’ll vouch for you.’

‘Okay,’ Vicki nodded, ‘sure.’

As she reached for the handle again, Vicki closed her eyes, and silently wished for the impossible. She wished the door would open easily, and inside, she would find Laurie sipping a glass of iced tea, and wearing one of her trademark outfits, listening to classic rock. Her mouth would fall open at seeing her friend. She would laugh, rush to hug Vicki, and explain she had somehow gotten all mixed up. Perhaps she would even invite the strange old detective inside to have a drink with them, and share in the joke. But, that was not going to happen, because when Vicki opened her eyes and held the handle, she found that the door was locked.

‘Any luck?’ Leighton said from directly behind her, making her jump.

‘Shit!’ Vicki let out a deep sigh.

‘Sorry, I thought you heard me talking to you as I came along.’

‘No, it’s okay, but I never heard you.’

‘I was saying there’s no sign of a break-in at the front of the place.’

‘Well, this door is locked, too.’

‘Then, let’s have a look around back.’

Leighton walked around to the rear of the property to find nothing more than a fence, a patch of parched grass, and a grey plastic bird feeder. Vicki followed him but said nothing. The retired detective turned his attention to the house. The rear wall of the property had one small window and a glazed sliding door. He walked over to the door and crouched down. After a moment, he walked to the window, and put his face close to the glass, peering at the lower corners.

‘You think someone could’ve broken in through there?’ Vicki asked.

‘No.’ Leighton shook his head. ‘The window’s too small to get through.’

‘So, what are you doing?’

‘I’m just making sure there isn’t a body in here.’

‘Oh.’ Vicki felt a momentary jolt of fear. ‘But, you can’t see inside.’

‘Come over here a second.’ Leighton beckoned to her.

Vicki walked cautiously over to where Leighton stood.

‘Look in through the glass,’ he said, his voice deep and reassuring.

Vicki stood on her tiptoes, and cupped her hands over her eyes to reduce the glare of the sun. Leighton was close enough so that Vicki could smell his faint cologne - musky and sweet.

‘What can you see?’ he asked.

‘Nothing really - the blind is down, and there’s just a tiny space at the side of it.’

‘What if you look down?’

Vicki cast her eyes downward. ‘Just the window ledge.’

‘Anything on it?’

‘Yeah, a small white ashtray, with some nickels and dimes in it?’

‘But, that’s all you can see on there?’

‘Yeah.’ Vicki pulled back from the glass and turned to Leighton. ‘Didn’t tell me much.’

‘If your friend was in there, even just because of an accident - carbon monoxide, a slippery bathtub or faulty electrics say - well, after two or three weeks, that window ledge would be covered in flies. In summer like this, they can fill a house in a fortnight. I also checked the windows at the front and side, they’re clean, too. All of the main access points into the property are secured and undisturbed.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I believe it means you are going to buy me lunch.’

Vicki fixed him with a surprised expression, though not entirely shocked by his comment.

‘It’s okay.’ Leighton smiled. ‘Now we know her home is secure, we can discuss where Laurie is most likely to be, but we do it over some food, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Vicki sighed and smiled. ‘Let’s go, Sherlock.’

They walked back to the car, and climbed inside. It was just as Leighton had started to drive along the road Vicki grabbed his arm to stop him.

‘Oh shit! Hang on,’

The car lurched to a stop.

‘What’s wrong?’ Leighton asked, as he applied the parking brake.

‘I left my bag in the yard, hang on,’ she said, as she unclipped her seat belt, and clambered out of the car.

‘I’ll wait,' Leighton said, 'but the meter is running.’

Sighing, he picked up a bundle of tape cassettes and began choosing his next play list. A few moments later, Vicki climbed back into the passenger seat, clutching her bag to her chest. Leighton noticed she was breathing hard, too, with a mist of spray on her forehead.

‘Bit stressed. Thought you’d lost it, huh?’ Leighton said, as he restarted the engine.

‘Yeah.’ Vicki nodded. ‘My backpack is my life.’

‘Amen to that,’ he said, and the car rolled along the dusty track towards the centre of town.

12

As he lay on the ground, with his hot urine soaking through his shirt, California Highway Patrol Officer Charlie Taylor marvelled at how quickly circumstances could change. Nineteen minutes earlier, he had been cruising along Route 138, where the freeway cut through the San Bernardino National Forest.

Around that time, he had felt the first grumbling of hunger starting to form in his gut, and was thinking about a stopping off at the Lazy Faire Ranch for a burger. The place was only a few miles down the road, and the traffic was light for a weekday, so Charlie was confident he could get there less than in ten minutes. The afternoon was warm and bright, and as he sped through the dappled light of the forest on the BMW, the officer noticed something glinting through the jagged chaos of the trees.

Slowing down the bike, he turned his head to get a better look, and realised something large and silver was sitting partially concealed by the fringe of trees bordering the highway. Charlie pulled into a lay-by and, after waiting for a stream of cars to pass, turned his bike around and crossed over on to the north bound side.

As he cruised along the highway running parallel to the treeline, Charlie could clearly see shiny metal panels. As an officer with six years’ experience, he knew there was no designated parking this far north in the park. It therefore seemed likely the vehicle was possibly stolen, then abandoned. He slowed the bike to a stop on the verge of the road. Kicking down the stand, he climbed off his bike, and unclipped his helmet in a single practised move.

As he walked towards the trees, the officer glimpsed more metal from the object set back into the woods. Initially, he had thought it might be a food van, or even an old style polished RV, but stepping through the shadowy trees, he could see the actual size of the vehicle, which appeared large enough to be an HC trailer. He stumbled on a gnarled root and had to grab on to a tree for support. Although he was only moving twenty or so metres away from the freeway, Charlie noticed how eerily quiet the area was – as if someone had turned down the volume on the cosmic remote.

By the time he had walked several more metres towards the vehicle, Charlie realised there was no bird sounds either, just the regular sound of his own breathing. For some reason, he found himself thinking of the “Teddy Bears’ Picnic” song - it slipped into his head, and occupied the void left by the departing sounds of the world.

Leaving the treeline, Charlie stepped into a rough clearing, and paused in confusion before a large GMC style bus. This was not something which belonged in the middle of the woods. The bulk of the body of the vehicle was a dull silver colour, and the windows were dark and grimy. The officer figured it had been the sun glinting off the metal panels which had initially snared his attention. Still, it was strange to find something like this in the middle of nowhere. There was no actual road here; it looked like the bus had simply dropped from the heavens, or been pushed up from below.