It was only 6.30pm, but Leeann Scott was already in her pyjamas when her mother, Irene Basham, dropped around to visit. On a balmy summer evening in the tiny Far North settlement of Cable Bay, Leeann was sitting in her living room, filling out paperwork for a job she was planning to apply for the following week.
Leeann’s 49th birthday was in three days time and Irene had a gift. “I gave her a hairdressing voucher and told her I would pick her up for the appointment the next morning,” recalls Irene, now 77.
“Leeann wrapped her arms around me and said it was just what she needed. She was so happy.”
The light was fading when Irene made the five-minute drive home to Coopers Beach. It was a trip she made most days to check on her youngest daughter, a former Air New Zealand hostess.
Although Irene would be reluctant to admit she had a favourite among her four adult children, she was fiercely protective of Leeann.
As a toddler, Leeann came down with potentially deadly meningitis. For days, her life hung in the balance at Auckland Hospital. Leeann proved she was a battler, but her mother never stopped worrying about her girl. Irene would sometimes drop by at 7am just to make sure her daughter was OK.
“Leeann could be so quiet, so distant. Sometimes we would be talking and she seemed to look right through you,” recalls her mother.
Leeann had also been diagnosed with bipolar disorder in her early 30s. Although her mental health had been stable over the past 10 years, her tight-knit family liked to keep a close eye on her.
As Irene drove home that night, she thought a new job – as a nurse aid at a rest home in Kaitaia – was exactly the fresh start Leeann needed. She had no way of knowing the quick hug she shared with her daughter that evening of December 11, 2014, would be their last.
The next day, Leeann put on her favourite fluorescent orange windbreaker, black pants and Nike running shoes, and set off on the 3km walk she did most mornings. She never returned.
Her partner of 21 years, Mick Corden, told the police Leeann left the house just after 10am. She often walked with her mother-in-law, but that weekend she was away in Auckland. Their usual route took them along a picturesque stretch of beach and over the Oruru River to Taipa.
The last sighting of Leeann was at the Taipa shops, 3km from home. A heavy smoker, Leeann always carried her pouch of Drum tobacco. She also always took her cellphone. That morning she took neither.
Irene says about 4.30pm, she received a phone call from Mick. “He asked if I had seen Leeann. I said, ‘No, why?’ He said she’d gone for a walk at 10.15 that morning and never came home.”
Three days before she disappeared, Leeann posted a photo of a brilliant pink dahlia on her Facebook page. A keen gardener, she’d grown the flowers from seeds and planted them in pots in front of the modest Cable Bay home she shared with Mick.
Leeann’s older sister Lillian Mann, 56, lives on Norfolk Island with her husband Ian, 57, and their daughter Natalie, 30. Their 28-year-old son Taylor lives in Hamilton. Leeann’s father Tom and older brother Manuel live in Auckland, while her younger brother Torrance is in London.
Lillian says their family is close and they all recognised when Leeann was struggling. “If Leeann was unwell, she stopped talking and stopped messaging on Facebook.
“She wasn’t depressed when she disappeared and she definitely wasn’t suicidal – we all knew the signs.”
Leeann’s Facebook site, which remains open 18 months after she disappeared, is emblazoned with the words, “You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.”
Having bipolar disorder meant life was at times a struggle, but Leeann learned to live with it and always put other people ahead of herself, says Lillian.
On the outside, she was outgoing and gregarious. “She didn’t like to tell people about the bipolar – she thought it left her open to judgment.”
Lillian says that despite the passing of time, the family still has no idea what happened to Leeann. Although they feel in their hearts she has passed on, they do not think she took her own life or ran off.
“For Leeann to just up and leave this world without any acknowledgement is hard beyond words,” she explains. “Leeann wasn’t someone who just disappeared.” Lillian says her sister was always the centre of the room at family gatherings. “She was vibrant, fun and passionate, a gift given to us for such a short time.”
Leeann and her three siblings grew up in Te Atatu in Auckland and as a youngster, she excelled at music and drama. When she left school, she loved to travel, working as an Air New Zealand hostess, on ski fields and in hospitality.
In 1995, she met Mick at a pub in Helensville, west Auckland. The pair had been inseparable ever since. “From the outside, they had a very close, loving relationship,” tells Lillian. “But at times, we worried she was too dependent on Mick and her self-esteem wasn’t what it should be.”
For a while, the couple ran a campground in Balclutha, moving up north to Cable Bay in 2013. After her diagnosis with bipolar, Leeann felt safer and happier living in small, isolated communities.
Although Leeann’s mental wellness was under control, her family often worried about her general health. She and Mick both smoked heavily, and slept on and off during the day.
Despite an exhaustive search, Leeann’s body has never been found. Her family hired a private investigator – but a year and a half on, they are still in the dark about what happened.
For Irene, the heartbreak of her daughter’s disappearance has been amplified by so many unanswered questions. “When the searchers were looking, all I could think was, ‘She’s not a cat – she’s my child. Why can’t we find her?’” recalls Irene, who moved to Norfolk Island to be closer to Lillian and her family after Leeann vanished.
Today, the closest reminder Irene has of her precious daughter is a painting of Leeann at 16 – full of life and with her whole future ahead of her. “That is my Leeann, until we know more.”
For more than a year, Lillian has been pushing police for answers. “We have no body, no signs of foul play, no evidence,” she says.
What hurts her most is the toll the disappearance has taken on her parents, Irene and Tom, 77. “Our family is part Tongan – for us, it is important to have a body to lay to rest. Not having that is killing my parents little by little every day. I want more than anything to put this to rest before they pass away.”
Lillian believes her sister’s disappearance wasn’t taken seriously because of her bipolar disorder. “As soon as you mention someone has a mental illness, the walls go up. She wasn’t treated properly. She was written off as the crazy lady,” she declares.
Leeann’s loved ones have since complained about how her case was handled. A letter to the family from the Independent Police Conduct Authority dated June 3 this year acknowledged there had been shortcomings in both the investigation and communication with Leeann’s family. The Northland Police District has since made changes to improve its handling of missing persons cases.
“To us, Leeann was so vibrant and so alive,” says Lillian. “Yet we were treated like we had lost a bike and not a loved one.”
On December 17 last year – what would have been Leeann’s 50th birthday – the whanau gathered to celebrate her life and release orange balloons into the sky. Her niece Natalie, who Leeann called “Little One”, told the gathering the disappearance had left a hole in their lives that got bigger by the day.
“I will keep doing my best to make you proud,” said Natalie, now 30. “And you do your best to make it home to us.” Lillian says Leeann is gone but will never be forgotten.
“She is on my mind when I wake up and in my thoughts before I go to sleep. As long as I live, I will endeavour to find out what killed my sister so we can finally put her to rest.”
Can you help?
If anyone has information on Leeann’s disappearance, NZ Police encourage you to call Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111 or the Whangarei police station, (09) 430 4500.