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rampant and they were struggling to come to terms with the transition from child to young woman.
    For some reason, in the last year or two, Olivia’s loss of her biological mother had become more and more important to her. She’d barely mentioned Lisa over the last six years and then suddenly it seemed she slipped his first wife’s name into every other conversation. He could only assume his daughter was lashing out at Ellie because she represented the mother she would never have; the mother she couldn’t have—the one who had given her life.
    He didn’t condone Olivia’s brattish behavior. It was rude and disrespectful and it was hurtful to the woman who loved her as her own. He realized, that as a family, they needed some intervention. He hadn’t told Ellie, but he’d determined last month over Christmas while he’d been with his family in Grafton, to arrange for Olivia to see a counselor.
    And then there was the other side effect of Olivia’s increasing obsession with Lisa. Her repeated outbursts stoked the embers of the long-dormant guilt he thought he’d buried forever. His first wife had swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills while he’d been at work. The knowledge that he’d failed her had tortured him for years afterwards because in the months after the birth of his daughter, he’d failed to recognize that his wife was suffering from postpartum depression. He’d failed to realize she needed help. He’d failed her when she needed him most. And then, it was too late…
    When Ellie came into his life, he’d been wracked with guilt, but her understanding nature and kind and gentle loving had prised open the claws around his heart and had lightened the burden of his shame. He’d never dreamed he’d be happy again, let alone fall in love.
    And yet, he had and he loved Ellie more than he ever thought possible. He’d done his best to largely ignore Olivia’s occasional eruptions or rude snipes at Ellie. Until recently he’d refused to acknowledge it could be more than a passing phase, but it seemed the last few weeks had been more than difficult. When his daughter begged him to allow her to enlarge a photo of Lisa to hang on her wall, he’d been startled at her request, but had reluctantly agreed.
    Mulling it over later, in the privacy of his study, he’d acknowledged once again that there were several signs over the last year that Olivia needed help. Once again, he’d determined to do something about it, as soon as he found the time. But the time hadn’t come and the appointment hadn’t been made and now his little girl was missing. Pain speared through him. Once again, he’d failed someone he loved: This time, it was his daughter.
    With a moan of despair, he clenched his fists and turned away from the window. Dragging in a breath, he tried to ease the tightness in his chest. The phone in his pocket rang and he snatched it like a lifeline.
    “Clayton Munro.”
    “Clay, it’s Lane. How are you holding up?”
    “Yeah, you know,” he managed.
    “I take it there hasn’t been a ransom demand?”
    “No, not yet.”
    “Well, I may have something.”
    Listening to Lane’s explanation about the tattoo and its links to the Redbacks, Clayton frowned and shook his head. “Lane, it’s been more than two years since I had anything to do with biker gangs. Even then, I was involved in a sting against the Hornets up on the northern beaches, not the Redbacks, close to home. We both know there’s no love lost between them. It doesn’t make sense that the Redbacks would seek retribution on behalf of a rival gang.”
    “I agree. But we can’t ignore the connection. According to Brittany, the man who attacked her had a distinctive tattoo on his left hand. Out of the five hits I’ve had on similar tattoos, three of them came back to members of the Redbacks. We know they have a substantial number of members in Canberra.”
    Lane paused and took a breath. “On top of that,” he continued, “in the