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Aaron Falk Mystery #3
by Jane Harper
"You're here for the christening." The man spoke suddenly, catching Falk by surprise. He'd stopped between the two cars and looked a little relieved, like he'd worked something out. "Is that right? For the Racos' son?"
"Yeah."
Kim Gillespie had been part of the extended Raco family for close to twenty-five years, Falk knew. Since that long-ago autumn afternoon when she'd first ridden her bike past the Racos' house, teenage ponytail swinging, until the night last year when she'd disappeared under the bright festival lights. The christening had been immediately canceled after Kim went missing. It had taken the Raco family a full twelve months to reschedule.
Falk took a step toward Kim's husband and child and held out his hand. "Aaron Falk."
"Rohan Gillespie. Did we meet?"
"Only briefly."
Rohan was nearly as tall as Falk, and while he would only be forty-two now, he looked to have aged a fair bit over the past year.
"You here for the christening, too?" Falk asked.
"Yeah. Well, no, the appeal, actually." Rohan looked tired as he fastened his daughter into her car seat. "But we'll go to the christening as well."
"When's the appeal happening?"
"This evening. Festival grounds."
"Festival opens tonight?"
"Yeah."
"Good time to do it."
"I hope so." Rohan clicked the seat buckles and patted his daughter's leg. He turned back to Falk. "I thought you looked familiar when you pulled up. Greg Raco's mate? You were on the witness list?"
"Yeah."
Rohan tilted his head, trying to remember. "Remind me. Near the entrance?"
"The ferris wheel."
Rohan nodded as he thought back. "Yeah. That's right."
Falk was surprised the man remembered him after a year, but only a little. Falk had been a visitor in town, one of hundreds, but still worth following up. Rohan had probably flagged Falk's presence to officers himself—There was another bloke there, tall, fortysomething, short hair, gray-blond maybe. Friend of the Racos but on his own, kind of hanging around—dredging up whatever information he could hours after the fact.
"You're police, too, aren't you?" Rohan tucked the sippy cup in next to Zoe before shutting the car door. "That how you know Greg?"
"Yeah, but we don't work together. I'm AFP, financial division. He's with the state police, back in Victoria."
Excerpted from Exiles by Jane Harper. Copyright © 2023 by Jane Harper. Excerpted by permission of Flatiron Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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