They agreed not to contact their dad. He was overseas on holidays. They would handle it better when he returned.

Next, she tried Zoe. No answer. She got Shoana, who sounded groggy and hung over.

“Huh? Where are you, Ruby?” Shoana yawned and coughed. “I’m so tired. Why you calling?”

Ruby decided it would be best to discuss the events in person. “I’ll be back soon. Just gone for a walk.”

Blue sky, blue water. A ruby that encircles the earth—that was what the lady on the boat had called her. There was something about that lady. Was she at the circle? Nausea swelled in the back of her throat. She slowed her breathing and swallowed. The lady might have been there but she didn’t remember much about the event, let alone who was there. They were all robed and doing their own thing. An image of a tall hooded person kept jumping into her head, as if haunting her.

Ruby had a sudden urge to be with her friends. To share her misdemeanour—she did nothing wrong, she wanted reassurance—and wanted to make sure they were both okay. As on cue, a police vehicle came into view and parked outside wherever she was.

The occupants got out of the vehicle. There was a tall man in an inky blue uniform, and a woman in casual dress. She appeared tiny next to the policeman. The woman gave Ruby a wave as they walked up the stairs to the porch.

“Ruby?” asked the woman.

Ruby nodded and was about to stand when the police officer put up his hands. 

“No need to stand, Ruby.” The police officer looked around the porch. “Let me grab those chairs over there.”

The woman put out her hand to Ruby. “I’m Detective Catherine York, and this strapping man with me is a member of the local island constabulary.”

Her manner comforted Ruby.

The man carried two plastic chairs over. “Hi, Ruby. I’m Sergeant Phil Jones.”

“Hello, nice to meet you both.” Why did the police make her nervous? The uniform, the guns? But they were here to help.

“You doing okay?” Catherine asked.

Ruby choked up. Catherine placed her hand on Ruby’s leg. 

“I’m doing okay.” She was sure her voice wasn’t convincing.

“You up for some questions?” Catherine asked.

There was a squeak as the front door opened. “Hello, Phil,” the doctor said, in her mild Scottish accent. 

The visitors turned towards the good doctor, which gave Ruby a chance to compose herself.

“Hi, Doc. Sorry. Should’ve let you know we were here,” Phil said. “This is Detective York.”

Catherine stood up, walked over, and shook hands with the doctor.

The doctor smiled at Catherine and turned to Ruby. “You up to this, Ruby?” 

“I’m good, Doctor. You’ve looked after me well. I’m still a bit queasy and hung over. I’m not sure how much help I will be to our friends here, because I don’t remember much about what happened—just waking up in that box.” She let out a brief cough.

The doctor kept her attention on Ruby but speaking to the officers said, “I’d say she was drugged, probably one of those date rape drugs. I told Ruby that they even referred to the drug as ‘the forget pill’. So what she is experiencing is normal, if that is an appropriate word to use.” 

The doctor walked over to Ruby and placed her hand on her shoulder.

“And she’s one tough lass.”

Ruby tried to smile at the doctor’s encouraging words, but she didn’t feel like a tough lass. She wanted to get off this island, get back home, and get some sleep. She wanted to escape to her childhood fantasy world, Narnia. 

“I’ve taken a blood sample, so I can give that to your forensic team,” the doctor said. “I’m sure you’ll find it was one of the common date rape drugs, and I’ve assured Ruby it will be out her system sooner rather than later. I’d say most of those down at the loch were drugged. It enhances the experience. Maybe this one got an extra dose.”

The interview wasn’t going to take long, as the doctor told the police almost everything. Maybe she did that on purpose.

“Just love your Australian Scottish accent, doctor,” Catherine said. 

“Aye, loch sounds much simpler than estuary, and we may have a monster in our midst.”

Ruby agreed. What sort of person would bury someone alive? A monster. Ruby looked down at her hands—her fingers covered in bandages. Her body felt cold. She shivered and her eyes watered up. A monster.

15 – The witnesses

JACK DECIDED TO WALK to the house where the two male witnesses were staying. It wasn’t far, and he wanted to get a feel for the island’s environment. He found the house and opened the gate, which gave a loud squeak. Those hinges needed oil. A head appeared from around the back of the house. Maybe the squeaky gate was their doorbell?

“We’re out on the deck. Walk down the side and join us.” 

An old aqua blue timber fence outlined the boundary of the property. Jack walked down the side of the house, his feet crunching on shells and white pebbles. A handmade fish hung on the fence. It looked like one of those scary creatures from the deep. Big teeth, big eyes—the eyes were bottle caps and he wasn’t sure what the teeth were, but they looked real enough.

Two men stood on the balcony. Jack walked up the stairs. It was easy to pick out the islander—he wore a blue shirt splattered with white palm trees, board shorts with blue and white stripes going everywhere, and sandshoes that were once white. Now they looked like they’d been attacked by the thing hanging on the fence. He had a weathered stubbled face and gentle blue eyes. The other man—the visitor—wore cargo shorts and a polo shirt supporting his local football team. He didn’t look like a local, but his white beard had an island feel about it.

“Gents, I’m Detective Sergeant Jack Kinnaird. I believe you got a tipoff that I might be visiting.”

“Yep, sir, we did,” the island man said. “I’m Christopher, and this is my good mate Wally.” 

They shook hands and Christopher pulled out a chair for the detective. Jack dusted sand off the seat, sat down, and looked around.

“This looks like a good life.”

“Still getting used to it,” Christopher said.

“And it does take a bit of getting used to,” Wally said. “The mozzies and midges look forward to visitors coming. But my friend Churchie here, he covers me from head to toe in lotion.” 

“Churchie?”

“That’s my nickname,” Christopher said.

Jack tried to recall Christopher’s last name without referring to his notes. He was sure it wasn’t Church or anything similar.

“I’m sure it has a bit of history attached to it. Maybe you can tell me one day,” Jack said.

“He sees things. Demons. And he used to hang around a church building. That’s where the name came from.”

“Hey, Wal. Take it easy, we don’t want to scare this man off.” He moved uncomfortably in his chair. “We don’t want him thinking we’re crazy.”