I wander around the outside of the house, ‘feeling the vibes’. Mike walks beside me, and I can almost feel him shaking. This guy is seriously on the edge. I pause in about every location I can think of, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I can’t feel ‘cold spots’ for shit, but I can read people. They tense up when you’re close to something they desperately don’t want you to find. Although this guy is so stressed I’m not sure he’d tense up if I held a knife to his throat and threatened to rape him.

I keep wandering, over the obvious bits – shed, garage, vegie garden – nothing.

“Did Linda have anything – a treasure of some sort, like a journal – buried out here?” I ask, spreading my hands above the vegie garden in what I hope is a cold spot sensing kinda way.

He shrugs, looking puzzled and vaguely irritated.

“No bloody idea, mate – can we go back inside now? I need to sit down.”

He really does look wrecked. His skin’s still orange, although he’s managed to bleach the colour out of his hair and eyebrows. But Linda’s been having fun with nail polish, and his fingernails and toenails are a very pretty bright pink. So now he just looks like the victim of a deranged beautician. He scratches at his skull absent-mindedly, and I suppress a laugh.

“How the hell did you get that colour out?”

He looks at me blankly.

“The hair?”

“Bleach in the cupboard,” he says and shrugs, still scratching.

Bleached his hair with household bleach? No wonder he’s scratching. His head must be one big blister.


  1. Muffi, What is this subscribing busines all about,? Does it cost anything?

  2. Maybe the bleach will give him brain damage.

    • I’m not 100% sure that’s possible… 😀

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