called Melanie as soon as Joelle walked through the door on Friday evening. Joelle looked. Mel was sitting at the table, pen in hand, contemplating an untidy pile of white, addressed envelopes, a box of unused envelopes, a stack of paper which appeared to be copies of the letter Shay had emailed and another few sheets of paper with tightly printed lists. Names and addresses photocopied from the phone book, Joelle realised as she peered more closely. Graysons. With half the names in one column crossed off. The piles of envelopes, addressed in Mel’s handwriting, all to Sydney residents. “Shay’s doing the Queensland ones,” Mel said. “You can help me, now. We should do all of NSW.” “Where did you get all the names?” Shay and Mel must have been in constant communication. By-passing her even though she and Shay had spoken just last night. She’d seen the letter he’d composed, of course, but apart from that the Grayson search had steamed ahead without her.
