1
Where It Ends
December
Ellie Connor burst out of rugged bushland onto a broad expanse of open ground. The gloom from the tail of the storm might protect her for a moment. That and the rain.
She skidded to a stop at the very edge of a cliff, catching a glimpse of wild waves a long way below. Doubled over, hands on her knees, she gulped salty air. Her legs shook from running but the adrenaline coursing through her had kept her moving. Adrenaline and self-preservation. She didn’t want to die. Be killed by him. Most of her blonde hair had escaped its ponytail and she pulled a strand from her dry mouth.
So thirsty.
She reached for her backpack but there wasn’t time. It wasn’t safe to stop. Below and to her right was the river mouth, just visible in the near-dark.
Safety.
“Oh, El-lie.”
Her head shot up.
“I’m here to help you.”
His voice drifted from the trees.
She ran along the side of the cliff, searching for the way down.
A narrow track opened up. Not the one she remembered walking with Gabi last visit, but it would do. She had to put distance between them.
The ground was mud and loose stones and Ellie’s feet slipped from under her. She cried out as she landed on her elbows and behind.
Tears sprung into her eyes and she rolled against the cliff wall to catch her breath.
Out to sea, a helicopter sped past, its blinking lights mesmerizing Ellie. If only her phone wasn’t smashed into a million pieces somewhere back in the bush, she would turn on its flashlight. Get their attention with her vague memory of Morse code.
But it passed by and the rain stopped. The wind dropped to almost nothing and the heavy smell of eucalypts and sea spray enveloped her.
Where was he?
Ellie pushed herself to her feet, wincing as she straightened. Blood trickled down her arms and she wiped it away, then cleaned her palms on her shorts. Her legs were filthy, and blood splattered. This time she was careful of her footing. One step at a time, a hand on the sheer rock face to her side.
At a sharp curve there was a shallow cave. Impossible to see how far back it went, or what might lurk within.
“Are you down there, Ellie?”
Ellie almost jumped into the cave entrance. His voice was closer. Surely, he would hear the hammering of her heart?
“You don’t need to run anymore. I’ve come to help. I can get you to Gabi. You came to see her, didn’t you?”
Don’t you dare say my mother’s name!
Ellie closed her eyes, arms wrapped around her body as bile rose in her throat. She’d fallen into his well-planned trap. Alone, so far from any town. Nobody to turn to, no help.
She opened her eyes and started as a beam of light barely missed her feet.
“Getting a bit over the games, you know. All I ever wanted was to make you happy.”
He was going to kill her, then find Gabi and do the same.
Her fingers and toes were freezing even though the humidity was rising again after the storm.
“Oh, there’s a blood trail. I’ll bring you a bandage, Ellie.”
Pebbles rolled down the path ahead of heavy footsteps. The flashlight waved from side to side.
“Ellie!” A different voice, echoing from the top of the cliff.
“I’m here. But he’s close by!” Almost sobbing in relief, she stepped onto the path.
Her hunter caught her in his spotlight. “Gotcha, baby.”
Ice clutched her stomach. Her feet wouldn’t move. There was a gun pointed at her.
Again, from the top of the path, “Run! Ellie, run for your life!”
The flashlight turned onto her face. “I wouldn’t do that, not if you ever want to see him alive again. Make a choice, Ellie.”
I need to get to Gabi.
Ellie ducked out of the light and slid her way around the sharp corner.
A shot rang out.
2
Homecoming
A few days earlier
IS JACK BANNERMAN DEAD?
The image beneath the newspaper headline was as familiar to Ellie as her own reflection. The same photo of her father was on her desk at Bannerman Wealth Group.
In the middle of Tullamarine Airport International Arrivals, she stopped dead.
“How are you coping, Ellie?” The reporter holding the newspaper shoved it closer to Ellie’s face. “Do you have a comment?”
Dad?
“Is that why you cut short your trip to London?”
“What? No. I didn’t.” Ellie grabbed the paper. As she’d exited customs all she had on her mind was a shower and a glass of Yarra Valley wine. Not…this.
Microphone in hand, another reporter pushed in front. “Teresa Scarcella from At Six Tonight. Ellie, what are your thoughts at this difficult time?”
“No comment. Ellie, say nothing.” A tall man in a sharp suit, with a buzz cut and muscles forced his way between the media and Ellie. “I’ve called for airport security so get out of our faces.”
“Mr Dekeles, as head of security for Bannerman Wealth Group, what do you know—”
Paul Dekeles rammed the trolley forward with one hand and media scattered. His other arm went around Ellie’s shoulders. The media formed a walking circle around them.
“Mr Dekeles! Please, a comment!”
“Can’t print the comment I’d make,” he muttered.
“Paul, is Dad…”
“Stop panicking. We’ll talk in the car.”
Ellie blinked back tears as they passed through the airport’s sliding glass doors to a warm Melbourne evening.
A limousine waited in the ‘no standing’ zone. The driver hurried to collect the trolley from Paul.
“Ellie! Just one more question!”
Paul stepped between the mob and Ellie and she threw herself into the back seat, pulling the door closed behind herself. The minute Paul moved, Teresa and her team were there, the camera hard up against the window.
The door on the other side opened. “Bloody vultures.” Paul slid next to her and they drew away from the curb.
Ellie scanned the newspaper. Words jumped out.
Where is Jack?
Iconic Melbourne entrepreneur feared murdered.
Yachting mishap.
Missing.
Did Dennis Connor kill him?
Lost at sea?
Worth billions.
Who will take his place as CEO?
“Don’t believe the worst.” Paul opened a bottle of water and held it out. “Sensationalism.”
“But it says he’s missing. When did he go missing? Why didn’t anyone let me know?”
“You were already on the flight when we realised.”
“Realised? How long?”
“Two days ago. Well, that’s the last time he was seen.”
“Seen where, Paul? Did Sea Angel sink?” Ellie sipped water, forcing down a bitter taste. Her hands shook when she replaced the lid.
“The yacht is fine. And he’s simply disappeared into thin air. Or something.”
“I’ll call him.” She turned her phone on.
“Pointless. We’ve all left messages.”
“How could this happen?”