She flipped open the cover. It was stamped Watervale Public Library. There was nothing remarkable about it, except for the book's location. She turned to Riley.

"It's on the wrong side."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's on the wrong side. My mother always slept on the other side of the bed, closest to the bathroom."

He caught on immediately. "I can't picture Darryl reading romance books."

"Exactly. He's placed it there because it's something you'd expect to see on a woman's nightstand. And it's a library book-more evidence to support his story that she hasn't gone for good." She shook her head. "The only thing I can't figure out is why he'd put it on the wrong side."

"Maybe he was in such a hurry, he didn't think? I mean, for him, going to that nightstand is probably as familiar as climbing in on his side of the bed."

Kate shrugged. "Maybe. Whatever the reason, it's definitely suspicious."

"Yeah, I agree." Riley turned to Chase, who hovered in the doorway. "Get onto Reynolds. Tell him we need someone down here with a camera. I want to photograph it in situ before we bag it. I also want to find out when it was checked out of the library."

"No worries." Chase pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket and backed out into the living room.

Kate wandered into the ensuite. White tiles and ceramic surfaces sparkled in the mid-afternoon light. The smell of bleach was fainter in here and she breathed a little easier.

"Better put these on," he said and he handed her some gloves, then pulled on his own pair.

Gloves on, she opened the top drawer of the bathroom vanity and pulled out two bottles of prescription drugs. The labels were from the local pharmacy and had been prescribed by Dr Shepherd. They were made out to Rosemary Watson.

"What have you got there?" Riley asked.

"Mom's medication. Some of it, anyway. From what Daisy said, she was on much more than this. It's odd she didn't take these with her. The bottles are nearly empty, but Daisy told us she didn't keep her appointment with her doctor. She wouldn't have had any more with her."

Riley came to stand beside her and took one of the bottles from her hand. He looked at the contents and checked the label. "Daisy was right. I called Doctor Shepherd. He confirmed your mother hadn't renewed her prescriptions." He tugged a plastic evidence bag from his pocket and dropped the bottles in. Sealing it, he scribbled a time and date on the panel provided.

He looked up at her, his face grim. "I'm not sure why these were overlooked the first time, but we have them now and that's what matters."

Kate nodded and followed him out of the ensuite, into the bedroom and then out into the living room. She bit her lip and looked at him. "I guess that leaves upstairs."

Each step upwards took her closer to her room at the top of the stairs. Blood pounded in her ears. She was grateful for Riley's presence behind her, but even so, it was difficult to keep the panic at bay.

She held onto the wooden banister, her hands slick with sweat. She turned and stumbled and would have fallen if not for Riley's quick reflexes. Catching her against him, he held her tightly, allowing her to regain control.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice still shaky. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" The concern in his eyes was touching. It had been more than ten years since someone had looked at her like that, worried for her well-being. She owed it to him, she owed it to both of them to dig deep and find the courage to get through this.

Pulling gently out of his embrace, she continued to climb the stairs. Three more steps and she'd be in the hall. Her room was a tiny jump from there. A single, tiny jump.

She could do it.

With fierce concentration, she lifted one booted foot and then another. One more step.

She was there.

Her heart hammered and her chest felt tight, but she pushed forward, determined to get this over with. The door to her room was closed and she wished she could just turn away without going inside, but knowing Riley was right behind her, she turned the k.n.o.b and stepped through the doorway.

Memories bombarded her from every angle, pummeling her from all sides. The room was almost exactly as she'd left it, except the bed had been made and the soft toys she'd swept to the floor in helplessness and rage after Darryl and Hannaford left had been lined up neatly in their usual spot on the cane chair that stood by the window. Mrs Fitzgerald must have picked them up. She couldn't see Darryl taking the time to tidy-or to keep the room free of dust.

Her gaze drifted to the wall where the camera had been. She could still see evidence of the sizeable hole she'd smashed into the wall with her fist and then with a chair. It had been repaired with a new sheet of plasterboard, but it hadn't been repainted and the spot stood out a chalky gray against the pink of the rest of the wall.

She forced her legs to move, bringing her closer. Running her hand over the rough surface, she struggled to get a handle on her painful memories.

Riley stopped a few feet behind her. "Has anything changed since you were here?" His voice was low, un.o.btrusive and she was grateful for his understanding.

Her voice caught. "N-no."

His hand reached for hers, warm, strong, safe. "Let's get out of here."

She nodded and turned to leave. "Wait."

He halted. "What is it?"

"That wall. The one over there." She pointed to the wall opposite the bed. "It's different. It never used to be brick." Letting go of Riley's hand, she walked over to it and placed her palm against it. "Why would he have changed the wall?"

Riley shrugged and pursed his lips, a frown creasing his forehead. "It seems a rather strange thing to do. And brick for a bedroom doesn't make sense."

"You're right. It doesn't make sense. As far as I know, there was nothing wrong with this wall. The damage I did was to the one over there. You can see the new plaster work." She indicated the wall in question with her head. "Not that it's new now, but you can see it's never been painted."

"Yes, I see." Riley turned back to the brick wall. "What kind of wall used to be here?"

Kate shook her head, bemused. At least the surprise about the change in the wall had taken her mind off the horrors the room held for her. "It was the same as the others, plasterboard painted pink."

"I wonder why it was altered?" Riley mused, running his hand across the uneven surface. "It's a fairly rough job. Whoever did it wasn't much of a bricklayer, that's for sure. The mortar looks fresh." He bent and put his nose to it and inhaled. "I can still smell the lime. It can't have been put here too long ago. What's behind it?"

"Another bedroom. It was never used. At least, not while I lived here. Mom and Darryl slept downstairs."

Riley walked back through the doorway and into the adjoining room. Kate followed him, flicking on the light switch. The smell of dust and mildew was strong in the air. Boxes filled with old clothes, discarded furniture and three suitcases were piled haphazardly around the room. The only area clear of debris was a few feet of s.p.a.ce beside another new brick wall.

Riley squatted and picked at a few specks of material strewn along the edge of the carpet. Pulling on another pair of latex gloves, he tugged an evidence bag out of his pocket and collected pieces of the chalky-colored particles.

Kate stepped closer. "What are they?"

"They look like pieces of mortar that have fallen off a trowel and then dried. They smell of fresh lime. They'll have to be examined by the lab to know for sure."

"Will they be able to tell how long they've been here?"

"I'm not sure, but they should be able to tell us how much dust is on them. If they've been here for a while, they should have at least some kind of coating like the other things in this room. "I'll collect a couple of the boxes over there and maybe a suitcase for comparison. Those things are thick with it."

Kate sighed, not sure what to make of it. "Why would Darryl build two brick walls up here, of all places? It doesn't make sense."

Riley stood. Sealing the evidence bag, he dropped it into the pocket of his jacket and tugged off his gloves. "Why does anyone build a wall?"

"To keep something out, I guess. Or..."

"To keep something in," he finished.

The look in his eyes terrified her. She moved closer, concern flooding through her. "Riley, what is it?"

He shook his head, but the shock on his face didn't ease. "The wall..." he choked.

An awful thought took root in her mind. It was a horrible, sickening, terrifying thought and she didn't want to give it voice. She gulped. Her chest was suffocatingly tight. She gulped again, and emitted a harsh, strangling sob. Tears burned behind her eyes. "You think she's behind it?"

Riley stared at her. Slowly, he nodded.

Kate's body shook in time with the chattering of her teeth. She was suddenly freezing. She turned this way and that, rubbing her arms with hands that were icy as she tried to control the turmoil of her raging thoughts.

Riley dragged a hand through his hair and blew out his breath. Anger and helplessness darkened the depths of his eyes.

"We need to get some members of the Tactical Response Group in here to knock it down. They'll have to fly up from Sydney."

His words sent cold shards of pain through her heart. "Y-you think it's a possibility? You th-think my mother could be behind it?"

He stared at her and didn't reply, but his silence told her everything. She read the confirmation in his eyes. Turning away, she hugged her arms around her waist, willing the surge of nausea to remain at bay.

They didn't know for sure. Just because Darryl had built two walls in the house for no discernible purpose didn't mean he'd stored her mother's body behind them. There could be many reasons for its construction. Surely, as a former police commander, he wouldn't be so stupid. He would know of any number of places to hide a body. If she could just take a few minutes to think, she was sure she'd come up with some other explanation.

Then again, the fact that it seemed so obvious could be the very reason he'd been confident it would work. Who would be stupid enough to dispose of a body in their house? It was the last place the police would look.

A low, keening cry escaped her tightly compressed lips. It all made too much sense. She jammed her fist against her mouth, welcoming the discomfort against her teeth.

Riley's arms encircled her and drew her back against the solid safety of his chest.

"Shh, Kate. We don't know anything, yet. It might not be what you're thinking. I need you to stay strong. You can get through this. I know you can. You're the strongest, bravest, most heroic girl in the world. You can do this."

She turned in his arms and buried her face against the soft folds of his shirt. Tears ran down her cheeks. She sniffed and swiped at her nose. She riffled in her pocket for a tissue and was grateful when Riley handed her his handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, I'm really making a nuisance of myself. This must be the third time I've cried all over you."

Riley smiled down at her, his eyes filled with love. "Fourth, actually. But who's counting?" He pulled her back in against him and held her tight. "I'm here, sweetheart and I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to take care of you for the rest of my life. Nothing's going to hurt you ever again. I've told you that already, and I mean it." He pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "Whatever's behind that wall, we'll deal with it. Together."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

They separated with reluctance, both acutely aware of the work that had to be done.

"I need to make some calls-"

"Yes," she interrupted him, pressing her lips tightly together.

"I'd better-"

"Go. Go and do your job. I'll be okay."

He frowned down at her, his face showing his struggle. He reached the only decision she knew he could.

His shoulders slumped on a sigh. "I'll drive you back to the motel."

"How long...?"

He grimaced. "I'm not sure. It depends when the TRG can get a flight. I'll tell Reynolds to put in a request that they get here ASAP, but it might not be until late this afternoon, or even tomorrow..." He shrugged. "Bureaucracy. It's not always easy."

"I take it Reynolds has taken over since Hannaford was arrested?"

"Yes. He's the acting LAC until they advertise the position properly."

"I guess whatever's behind there isn't going anywhere."

Closing the gap between them, he clasped her by the arms, his dark eyes intent on her face. "If, Kate. If there's something behind there. We don't know anything yet."

She forced a smile. "You're right. It could be just a stupid wall."

His answering smile didn't reach his eyes. "Exactly." He pulled her to him and kissed her hard. "Let's get out of here."

In the end, it was another two days before the TRG Unit arrived from Sydney and commenced hammering down the wall. Two long days where Riley watched Kate's face grow more pale and anxious by the hour. Two long nights where he held her in his arms and whispered words of love and comfort, knowing nothing he could say would take the sadness and uncertainty away.

He stood with Chase and a couple of uniformed officers, watching as the hole in the brick wall widened. With each blow, the gap became bigger and the cold dread in his gut weighed heavier. Concrete and brick crumbled and fell to the floor.

A huge halogen light had been set up in one corner. Directed toward the wall, it illuminated nearly half of the room. The heat of it burned across Riley's back.

He'd left Kate at her motel, knowing it was the best place for her to be. He didn't want her here. She didn't need to witness what might or might not lie behind the brick facade.

A shout from one of the men snagged his attention. "There's something over there."

Riley leaped forward and shouldered his way past the curious TRG officers. He looked through the opening to where the officer pointed. Riley's heart sank like a stone.

It was a trash bag-no, two. Dark green, heavy-duty plastic bags that could be purchased from any convenience store or supermarket. They were tied around the top with gray duct tape, sealing them off from the air. Only the faintest of foul odors reached his nostrils.

Nausea swirled in his gut. He didn't need to open them to know what was inside. Looking past them, he spied the mangled remains of a wheelchair, twisted and bent to fit into the narrow s.p.a.ce.

Fury and anguish torched his veins-for the woman who'd been carved up and thrown into trash bags and left to rot behind a wall; for the woman who waited in her motel room for news; for him, the man who had to bring it to her.

Knowing he didn't have the liberty to lose control, he cleared his throat and began issuing orders.

"Barrington, make sure the scene's secure and close the house off from the road. I don't want any curious onlookers making their way across the garden."

He eyed the TRG officers, both of them pale and grim.

"Jones, I want you to call forensics. Tell them to get here ASAP. We need photos before we move anything. Davis, you can call the morgue."