Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Gone
    Gone
    Gone
    Ebook359 pages6 hours

    Gone

    By Drew Lindsay

    5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Two little girls from Charters Towers in Far North Queensland are abducted during the night and vanish. Torn and bloodstained remains of one girl’s dress are found on a remote roadway. There is no ransom demand and no contact by the girls or their abductor. After almost 2 years missing, the Coroner gives a finding that both girls are dead. Ben Hood is hired by one of the distraught mothers to go over the available evidence. Ben isn’t used to working by normal investigative rules so buried secrets are quickly unearthed and a dangerous search begins for the girls, dead or alive.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDrew Lindsay
    Release dateMar 15, 2014
    ISBN9781311210111
    Gone
    Author

    Drew Lindsay

    Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

    Read more from Drew Lindsay

    Related to Gone

    Titles in the series (42)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    Mystery For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      A Lost Prayer

      Feb 2, 2023

      A Lost Prayer
      10 min read

    • Article

      A Long, Short, WATERBUCK HUNT

      Jun 21, 2022

      A Long, Short, WATERBUCK HUNT
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Feral Cat Dilemma

      Feb 14, 2022

      The Feral Cat Dilemma
      6 min read

    • Article

      TV Reviews

      Nov 16, 2021

      TV Reviews
      3 min read

    • Article

      Animal Rescuers

      Jul 30, 2020

      Animal Rescuers
      3 min read

    • Article

      More Than Meats The Eye

      Apr 1, 2021

      More Than Meats The Eye
      5 min read

    • Article

      Great Reads

      Jun 9, 2023

      Twenty-year-old Violet Sorrengail was supposed to enter the Scribe Quadrant, living a quiet life among books and history. Now, the commanding general—also known as her tough-as-talons mother— has ordered Violet to join the hundreds of candidates stri

      2 min read

    • Article

      ‘The End of the Day’: Featured Fiction from Bill Clegg

      Sep 30, 2020

      An excerpt from a novel Kirkus called "A moody, atmospheric domestic drama with a mystery novel somewhere in its family tree." The post ‘The End of the Day’: Featured Fiction from Bill Clegg appeared first on The Millions.

      12 min read

    • Article

      Country-house Clawdo

      Jan 24, 2024

      Country-house Clawdo
      6 min read

    • Article

      Campfire Tales…

      Jun 18, 2021

      Campfire Tales…
      3 min read

    • Article

      Lost... AND FOUND!

      Apr 3, 2024

      Lost... AND FOUND!
      4 min read

    • Article

      Village Of The Damned

      Oct 27, 2020

      Village Of The Damned
      4 min read

    • Article

      Book Club

      Nov 9, 2023

      Book Club
      5 min read

    • Article

      Book Club

      Aug 16, 2023

      Book Club
      5 min read

    • Article

      What To Read?

      May 26, 2023

      BY ELEANOR CATTON GRANTA Described by one critic as “a Kiwi Jonathan Franzen”, this fantastic novel explores what happens when a hippie collective clashes with a ruthless billionaire. Mira and Shelley run Birnam Wood, a guerrilla gardening group tha

      3 min read

    • Article

      Trent Dalton On Heroes And Hope

      Sep 13, 2020

      THE HEROES NEVER changed form. Always flesh and blood; arms and legs and beating hearts as wide as this country. It was the villains who kept morphing on me. I once thought the bad guys all dressed like Darth Vader. Then I learned that the villains i

      8 min read

    • Article

      The Canine Retiree

      Jul 19, 2021

      The Canine Retiree
      6 min read

    • Article

      The Canine Retiree

      Jul 19, 2021

      The Canine Retiree
      6 min read

    • Article

      Book Club

      Aug 16, 2023

      Book Club
      5 min read

    • Article

      Dude’s Last Hunt

      Jul 17, 2023

      Dude’s Last Hunt
      6 min read

    • Article

      Dream Season

      Sep 5, 2023

      Dream Season
      5 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Gone

    5/5

    3 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Gone - Drew Lindsay

      The lightning wasn’t striking the ground this time, not that it mattered anyway because much of far north Queensland had been underwater for weeks. The lightning was flashing high above, jumping between the menacing black clouds with ensuing thunder rolling and grumbling from north to south, east to west in a surround sound display that outperformed anything man could produce with all his super high tech speaker equipment.

      49 year old Ann Kelly relaxed back in the rocker that had belonged to her mother, on the timber decked verandah of her slightly dilapidated farmhouse. She was always fascinated by the display of an electrical storm notwithstanding the fact such storms often spooked her cattle or sparked fires which were impossible to control.

      Floodwater was steadily receding and her thousand plus head of ‘Droughties’ cattle were almost beside themselves with the abundance of new growth pasture erupting from the ground, even though they had a good tolerance to drought conditions for which they were reared. Ann sipped on a stubby of ice cold beer. The day was done and so was she. There was no rain this time in the black clouds which boiled overhead, just lightning and the continual rolling boom of thunder. The sun was almost set although the black clouds had obliterated it for hours. Twilight had descended early. The huge grey gums were now black against the horizon. The fences and cattle were black. Everything turned black in the twilight.

      Ann owned a brown kelpie dog called ‘Tom’. The 2 year old animal lay asleep at her feet. Tom had been named after her second and final husband Thomas Kelly who had walked out on her and the farm three months prior to their 6 year old daughter Kimberley being abducted from the farmhouse late one evening and probably sexually assaulted, killed and dumped in a hole somewhere. God knew where that hole was because other than the killer, who remained a mysterious shadow, no one else appeared to know and God wasn’t revealing anything. Tom was useful for many reasons, the least of which was to warn Ann of the approach of any wild dogs which roamed the hills and valleys around Charters Towers in Far North Queensland. These wild dogs had become savage and strong after years of adaption to the wilderness. They killed hundreds of head of cattle every year, often just for the sport as well as for food. Ann had a Lee-Enfield 7.62mm L42 bolt action sniper rifle with a ten round magazine. Her score of dead wild dogs within the last 12 months was 23 outright kills and 4 wounded, presumed to soon be dead. This kind of high powered rifle was known generally around the world as a ‘303’. Over 17 million had been manufactured from the late 1800’s. The L42 was a special version and no matter where a high velocity bullet from this rifle hit you, especially if you were a dog, the chances of recovery were very slim.

      The lightning and thunder didn’t bother Tom. He slept contentedly. The howl of a wild dog many miles away however, would have brought him instantly to his feet with the hackles up on the back of his neck. Ann bought Tom from a local cattle farmer after her husband walked out. She had lost her husband to drugs, alcohol and Lord knows what else and then her baby girl just months later. As if things couldn’t get worse, some months after her 6 year old daughter was abducted, her teenage daughter Margarette suffered a major emotional breakdown and had to be taken in restraints to an institution in Charters Towers. Ann should have seen it coming. Margarette was always a moody child, prone to fits of rage and self abuse. The Droughties cattle were bred for their adaptation to the often hostile climate of Far North Queensland, but the breed maintained the important trait of docility which was not found in many other similar animals. Margarette would often walk amongst the cattle, screaming at them and waving her hands about. The Droughties usually ignored her but on occasions, she made them clearly nervous. With the additional stress of the abduction of 6 year old Kimberley and prior to that the sudden departure of her father from the family farm, Margarette appeared to just snap like a dry twig. Ann found it difficult to even visit her daughter these days. Margarette remained confined to the institution because of her sudden and uncontrollable rages. She was medicated. She was sullen, suicidal and sad. She didn’t respond well to counselling or any kind of group therapy. She didn’t want her mother anywhere near her.

      A loud burst of thunder made Ann jump slightly. She had been so deep in thought. Tom’s eyes were open and he glanced up at her. Solar powered LED garden lights were now illuminated from various pot plants lined up around the edges of the verandah. She grew frangipani, mini palms, skeleton hibiscus, hydrangea, Geraldton wax and at least ten different kinds of herb. Ann pushed herself out of the rocking chair with her left arm while still clutching the stubby in her right. Tom followed her to the wire screen door. Mostly he wasn’t allowed inside the house. Tonight would be an exception. The fly screen door would be securely locked but the heavy timber door left open and held open with a large house brick wrapped carefully in Christmas paper. This ingenious device had been created by 6 year old Kimberley just a few months before she vanished. It was one of the most treasured of Ann’s worldly possessions.

      Ann picked up the phone and dialled an interstate number.

      Rodney Reid answered. ‘VIP protection agency.’

      ‘Ann Kelly here Mr. Reid. I was just wondering if he had accepted the assignment.’

      ‘He’s not here yet Ms. Kelly. He lives a fair way out of Sydney.’

      ‘Did you explain my concerns?’

      ‘I find it best to discuss assignments face to face with Mr. Hood.’

      ‘You said he is likely to turn it down.’

      ‘As I explained to you before, he’s no longer a police detective and he is reluctant to get involved in investigative assignments. He’s not a private investigator.’

      ‘I don’t believe that from what I’ve learned about him.’

      ‘He gets lured into situations that often require some investigation,’ said Rodney Reid.

      ‘He rescued two kidnapped children last year. Did he get lured into that one?’

      Rodney gritted his teeth for a moment and moved the phone to his other ear. ‘Not exactly.’

      ‘My child is gone Mr. Reid. The police claim they have exhausted all lines of investigation although they claim they will keep the file open. The Coroner has ruled Death in absentia because of her clothing being cut to shreds and strewn over parts of the roadway into Charters Towers. Blood on her discarded clothing has been positively tied to her DNA. I’m not giving up on her so easily.’

      ‘No mother would,’ said Rodney. ‘I’ll talk to Ben. I do have other operatives who would be glad to assist you.’

      ‘I want him. I don’t want any of your other operatives. I want him.’

      ‘I’ll do the best I can Ms. Kelly. I can’t promise anything.’

      ‘I’m selling off 200 of my best cattle next week. They’re in fine condition even with all the floods we’ve seen around here lately. I can pay your fees.’

      ‘I’m not concerned about the fees Ms. Kelly,’ said Rodney. ‘Ben is just a bit temperamental at the moment. He’s had a bit of a rough spin lately.’

      ‘I understand. I’ll wait for your call. I’m sorry to have been such a nuisance. I’m sorry for my emotional outburst yesterday.’

      ‘You’re not a nuisance Ms. Kelly. I cannot fully appreciate your pain as I have no children. I’ll get back to you as soon as I’ve spoken with Ben and got his view on your problem.’

      ‘I’ve not only lost my baby girl Mr. Reid, I’ve lost my entire family over this situation. I need help.’

      ‘I’ll do what I can,’ said Rodney.

      ‘Thank you. Goodnight.’

      ‘Goodnight Ms. Kelly.’

      ****

      CHAPTER TWO

      Ex New South Wales Australian Police Detective Sergeant Ben Hood had been basically forced to ‘retire’ from the police force for shooting a couple of criminals who were intent on killing him, or some other innocent persons. Police are issued with firearms in order to protect themselves and vulnerable members of the public they are paid to watch over, but God help any police officer who actually shoots a criminal, especially if they don’t kill the criminal. The wounded criminal will make up more tall tales than the Grimm Brothers in order to explain why they should not have been shot in the first place.

      Ben had divorced almost three years ago and had given his home and most of his worldly possessions to his ex wife Fay. He lived for a while in a tiny flat in Mosman with a partial view of Sydney Harbour. More recently he had purchased a small farm on the outskirts of Windsor, northwest of Sydney and was enjoying a more relaxed lifestyle than he had ever known.

      Unlike most other men in Sydney or Australia for that matter, Ben owned a V8 Vantage Aston Martin Roadster. This late model monster went from 0 to 100 km/h in less than 5 seconds. 313 kw’s at max power. It had been a gift from a very grateful client whose daughter would have been dead if it hadn’t been for Ben. (Flesh Traders)

      Ben was a big man, 52 years old and 6 feet 2 inches tall. He was muscular and very fit despite his age, due to regular and often brutal workouts with his personal trainer and fighting mentor, Akira Misaki, and various opponents. He had spent many years learning the lifestyle and fighting ways of the Shin Obi Ninjutsu. He was extremely good at this ancient form of Japanese soldier fighting and something deep within, drove him to maintain his fighting skills, notwithstanding the fact that Ben felt his body wasn’t exactly keeping up with the stamina required to execute the skills. He speculated this was more psychological than physical but he was realistic. The human body can only retain strength and physical stamina for just so long. Eventually, age takes its toll. Akira’s biggest concern was that Ben’s acquired fighting skills were not married with the spiritual component that often accompanied and enhanced such skills. Akira often described Ben as a very special fighting machine, with no wheel to steer his skills in the appropriate direction.

      Rodney Reid was the Managing Director of a VIP protection company named predictably enough, ‘Security for Important People’. Ben had undertaken various assignments for Rodney since being asked to resign from the NSW Police Force. Rodney Reid’s home and office was set well back from the street in a leafy cul-de-sac in Castle Hill, an upper/middle class suburb northwest of Sydney. The house was double-storeyed and clad in brilliant white weatherboard.

      Ben and Rodney had formed a rather special relationship during their relatively short time together. Rodney considered Ben to be his most valuable field operative, notwithstanding the regularly disastrous although usually successful results to each and every assignment.

      Rodney was an Australian guy in his mid 50’s. He had short grey hair and was slowly going bald. He was almost six feet tall and thanks to a recently imposed diet, was now quite trim rather than a touch overweight. He had recently married Dr. Rose Hendricks in an amazing wedding ceremony at Bora Bora in Tahiti. Ben was the Best Man.

      Rose had totally recovered from a gunshot wound and fairly major surgery. (Flesh Traders) She was required however, to remain on a special diet and Rose figured that if she had to be on it, Rodney could be also.

      Rose and Rodney had met under rather unusual circumstances. She was the resident surgeon at a large Sydney hospital about 10 years ago and Rodney and his mates got drunk one night and somehow Rodney’s right foot got dragged under a large four wheel drive vehicle and crushed beyond repair. Rose later amputated it. Rodney used a single crutch under his right arm and occasionally an artificial foot. His disability had almost no effect on his mobility.

      ‘He’s here.’

      ‘Of course he’s here. I opened the gate to let him in.’

      ‘Don’t put too much pressure on him Rodney.’

      ‘Rose. I never put too much pressure on him.’

      ‘Just leave him alone, alright?’

      ‘I have a business proposal to put to him.’

      ‘You damn well know he’s going to clash with the police if he puts his nose into this one.’

      ‘That’s never bothered him before. He knows how to handle the police.’

      ‘I’m not sure he’ll like it.’

      ‘For God’s sake Rose, go and get him.’

      ‘Mind my words,’ said Rose.

      Rodney held up both hands in mock defence. ‘I’m minding. I’m minding.’

      Rose wiped her hands on a floral print apron and walked down the hallway to the front door of their home. She welcomed Ben with her usual hug and kisses and led him to the sunroom at the rear of the house where Rodney was relaxing in a frangipani print cane chair, flicking through applications on his iPad which also included control of the 8 CCTV cameras in the grounds surrounding the house together with the heavy metal gate near the street.

      ‘G’day Rod,’ said Ben as he slumped into a chair.

      ‘It’s an official record you know.’

      ‘What is?’

      ‘You undertook an assignment on behalf of my company and didn’t get your photo in a newspaper or on the TV even once. It’s nothing short of a damn miracle, that’s what I call it.’

      ‘Rodney,’ said Rose sternly. ‘Remember what I told you.’

      ‘I’m minding Rose. I’m just making an obvious comment.’

      ‘That situation is firmly locked away from the media for the time being,’ said Ben. ‘They may release something about the lengths terrorists will go to in order to take human life. If they’ve tried once and almost succeeded in Australia, they’ll try again.’

      ‘I’m very proud of you and that young South African girl,’ said Rose.

      ‘Actually she was a tad older than the ones you usually go for,’ said Rodney. Mid 30’s or so? Are the younger ones wearing you down?’

      ‘Rodney.’ Rose’s tone was quite menacing.

      ‘Late 30’s,’ said Ben.

      ‘Go on. Late 30’s.’ Rodney put the iPad down on the lounge. ‘Well seeing that you are progressing towards the more mature kind of woman…’

      ‘She was extremely mature for her age,’ Ben cut over his words.

      ‘Yes, I’m sure she was.’

      ‘And you made a total arse of yourself in front of her.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Rodney. ‘I fully admit that I should have watched my mouth the first time I met her.’

      ‘You should watch your mouth much more often in general,’ said Rose.

      ‘And talking of ages,’ said Rodney, crossing his arms, ‘and while we are talking about having you mix with older and perhaps more mature women, I happen to have a job that may interest you.’

      ‘Are you sending me on a grab a granny cruise?’

      Rose shook her head and looked at them both in disgust.

      ‘No, not one of those cruises. You hate cruises anyway,’ said Rodney. ‘No, this is a woman in genuine distress.’

      ‘Is something frightening her?’

      ‘Yes, you could say that. Do you remember the Kimberley Kelly case in Queensland just under 2 years ago?’

      Ben nodded. ‘Bit hard to miss. It was in the media for months while they searched for the little girl’s body and processed dozens of abduction and murder suspects.’

      ‘They turned up zip.’

      ‘I heard,’ said Ben. ‘Beautiful little girl from the photographs. It must have ripped the hearts out of the parents.’

      ‘The husband had walked out of the marriage a few months before the little girl disappeared,’ said Rodney.

      ‘I didn’t know.’

      ‘The mother wants you to turn over the available evidence again.’

      Ben crossed his legs and glanced at Rose. ‘Why me?’

      ‘She’s heard about you.’

      ‘It’s investigative. I’m done with that kind of work Rod.’

      ‘No you’re not.’

      ‘Well it’s not what I came to you for.’

      ‘It’s evolved and has been of great assistance to a lot of people.’

      ‘The cops who did the original investigation will scream.’

      ‘Told you,’ said Rose.

      ‘Stuff them,’ said Rodney.

      ‘If I can’t work with them, I’ll have little to work with.’

      ‘Does that mean you’ll take the job?’

      ‘It’s up in the middle of bloody Queensland again,’ said Ben.

      ‘You like Queensland.’

      Ben was silent for a moment, looking at his hands. He looked up. ‘What did she tell you?’

      ‘The mother?’

      ‘Well her daughter isn’t around anymore to talk.’

      ‘We don’t know that for 100% certain.’

      ‘She’s gone Rod. You and I both know that.’

      ‘Ann Kelly clings to the slender hope that her daughter may still be alive.’

      ‘Kidnapped and held in a cave eh?’

      ‘Something like that.’

      ‘She was too young. Five or something.’

      ‘Six.’

      ‘Too young. He would have killed her when he was finished. Another little girl was also taken from the same area around the same time,’ said Ben. ‘They obviously had a predator on the loose and he’s moved on.’

      ‘Or he’s tucked them away somewhere.’

      ‘They’re dead,’ said Ben.

      ‘I’ll go and make some coffee and tea,’ said Rose, leaving the room rather rapidly.

      ‘The mother broke down while she was talking to me on the phone,’ said Rod. ‘She had to hang up and ring me back.’

      Ben nodded.

      ‘The kidnapping of Kimberley, set off a series of tragic events which you may wish to discuss with her if you take the assignment. Now she’s alone with one old ranch hand to help her manage a huge property and around a thousand head of beef cattle. She may go under I think. She sold off some of her stock to pay for us to take one last look at the disappearance of her daughter.’

      ‘You know I don’t really want this job, don’t you?’

      ‘You may not have tumbled into it headfirst like you did with the other kidnapping case, but it’s there if you want to give it a go.’

      Ben let out a long breath. ‘Where does she live?’

      ‘Charters Towers.’

      ‘Far north Queensland.’

      ‘Have you been there?’

      Ben shook his head in the negative.

      ‘Better get yourself a hat and sunscreen mate.’

      ‘Who said I’m taking the job?’

      ‘You’ll take it. I’ve got your airline tickets to Townsville. You leave the day after tomorrow with a regional plane connection to Charters Towers.’

      Rose came back into the room with two coffees for the men and a tea for herself. Ben’s mug had a china woman in a bikini clinging to its side from the rim. She handed the mug to him and he stroked the girl’s bum as was customary. ‘He’s already got my airline tickets,’ he said to Rose.

      ‘Tell him no,’ said Rose.

      ‘He knows I can’t,’ said Ben as he sipped his coffee. ‘He knows me too well.’

      ‘You will know within a week if the police have missed anything,’ said Rodney.

      ‘If that is the case, I won’t prolong this woman’s agony. If they’ve covered all the bases, I’ll be out of there as soon as I’m confident they have.’

      ‘Fair enough,’ said Rodney.

      ****

      CHAPTER THREE

      Tom was barking furiously just on daybreak the following morning. Ann pulled on her tattered gown and hurried to the locked flyscreen door. Two uniformed police constables stood on the verandah, one a very tall male senior constable and the other a tiny slip of a woman who looked barely able to carry her heavy appointments let alone run with them on if the situation required it. Ann recognised the senior constable. ‘Hello Michael.’

      ‘Mrs. Kelly. Sorry for the intrusion.’

      Ann unlocked and opened the flyscreen door. ‘Please come in.’

      ‘We’re here to invite you to the hospital to inspect some remains,’ said Senior Constable Michael Cleary. There is some clothing with the remains.’

      Ann Kelly suddenly felt both sick and faint. She held out her left hand against the wall.

      ‘Perhaps you should sit down for a bit and I’ll get some water,’ said Senior Constable Cleary.’

      ‘No, I’ll be alright. Is it Kimberley?’

      ‘We don’t know,’ said Senior Constable Cleary. ‘The DNA isn’t back yet. You might recognise what is left of the clothing.’

      ‘I’ll get dressed and be right with you,’ said Ann, scurrying down the hallway.

      The Charters Towers hospital morgue was packed on this particular morning. Two rather mangled bodies had come from a car crash on the highway south of the town late the night before. Five elderly people from various parts of the town had died that same night, presumably due to natural causes. A baby had died from a suspected ‘cot death’ incident and a naked male had swan dived from the third floor of a hotel in the town and landed on his head with fatal consequences. Then there were the bones and parts of a small girl’s dress which had been recovered from a mud swamp south of Charters Towers in the late afternoon the day before, pushed to the muddy surface by receding flood water and a farmer digging in the swamp with his mechanical back hoe.

      Dr. Rhonda Cole was always meticulously presented with her light brown shoulder length hair styled into a bob and clipped back from her face. Her makeup was always perfect. She wore red lipstick which was not too striking. She was 51 but looked much younger. The lines on her face were hardly noticeable. Her body was in great shape thanks to occasionally fasting and two hectic gym workouts each week. Dr. Cole was now single with no children. She owned and managed the largest medical practice in Charters Towers and was also the local Forensic Pathologist.

      Ann Kelly walked into the Charters Towers hospital accompanied by Senior Constable Cleary. They were met by a tall woman in her late 40’s with striking long red hair and piercing green eyes. The redhead had a figure which turned male heads whenever she walked down the street. The Glock pistol in the pancake holster tucked onto her belt was as much a turn off as was the defiant, almost contemptuous look which she usually maintained, especially in the presence of men. This woman was Detective Inspector Claudia Rudd. She was known as Bluey Rudd to those close to her. Blue was only whispered behind her back. Her fiery temper was renowned. She was in charge of the Child Protection Unit at Charters Towers, together with the Kidnapping and

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1