Page 35 of Bay of Plenty

Hmm.I didn’t have the same luxury. He was staying in my childhood home and knew everything about me.

He held my eyes. Under his gaze, my arms prickled with goose bumps.

“You seemed very matey with Sarge the first day,” I said, checking my phone, grateful for something to do. “You must love rugby.”

He shook his head, his hands still in his pockets. “Not atall. I was a rower at school, and I didn’t much like that either. I understood what you had to do to survive—play the game, keep your head down. I try and keep an open mind about everyone I meet, but I’m wary of men like Sarge, clinging to that old-school stuff.”

Declan had a method. He didn’t simply reflect people, like his wide-stance guffawing with Sarge. He’d made sure he dropped lower than Sarge, reverential, subservient. To Dad, he was the kind man who would look after his daughter, and to Mum, he talked domestic arts.

Ah, I loved when I’d puzzled out how someone operated.He gives people what they want.We were inside, but it felt like a breeze blew an uneasy chill across my bare shoulders.Shiver.He was acting with them.

Like he is with me.

Chapter Twenty-Two

After a goodphone call with Dad, we were watchingVeraon TV when there was a knock at the front door. Declan and I glanced at each other. It was late for a caller.

“I’ll get it,” Declan said. “Precaution.” He was right. We were investigating a heroin ring. We were in danger. But still, I didn’t think someone would knock before harming us.

I got a glimpse of mad scientist hair. Who was that? I stepped closer to see better. Oh. Relieved, I scooted around Declan to open the door. “Hello, Mr.Saunders,” I said.

“Would you like to see the glowworms, dear?” He fiddled with his glasses. Mum got off the sofa and joined us. Declan looked puzzled. “Thought it might be soothing after all your stress today.”

Oh… yes. I smiled. “Seeing the glowworms was what Janey, Kingi, and I did on our sleepovers for years,” I explained to Declan. “It’s only at the end of the beach, under the cliff, but it was always one of the highlights of the night.”

On the way, Mum asked Declan about a plot point inVera, which gave me the opportunity to hang back with Mr.Saunders. He had an even jerkier gait, with some sharp intakes of breath; the pain of his arthritis had obviously worsened.

“How’re you doing?” I asked him, trying to examine his face in the light of the moon shining down over the cliff.

“Better now I’m talking to you,” he said. He patted my arm. “Oh, I miss seeing you girls and Kingi together. Do you remember how many hours the three of you spent out back in that tent you made from sheets? Writing stories and plays and acting them out? Gosh, from age five to—well, I suppose until that year you all started high school.”

I smiled at the memory, making a wiggle mark along the sand with my toe as we ambled.

“We let you make cinnamon toast on the barbie.” He chuckled. “And you’d pick unripe feijoas from the trees.”

“And complain about funny tummies.” I rolled my eyes. “Connect the dots, kids.”

We laughed, and for a second, I could fool myself that Janey wasn’t dead after all. I looked up, hearing Mum’s and Declan’s voices. It wasn’t a long walk to the cliff face. I longed to keep enjoying this moment of pretending about Janey, but I couldn’t. While Mum and Declan were ahead of us, I needed to use the natural space to have this conversation privately.

“I found out something from Snow,” I said in a low voice. “Sarge rubbished what I said—to everyone.”

“Oh, gee, we didn’t like what you implied about that note.” He fiddled with his glasses. “Snow is such a good boy.”

I gritted my teeth.

He touched my arm and stopped in his tracks. “But we were shocked that Sarge didn’t follow up on your shoes theory. That made perfect sense to us.”

“He didn’t even entertain it.” I heard my voice sound cracked and pained. “And no one challenged him.”

Mr. Saunders shifted uncomfortably.

“Yes, I didn’t protest enough,” he said quickly, chastised, his head bowed.

“Oh, heck. I’m so sorry.” I clutched his arm. “I didn’t mean to point the finger at you.”

“No, no. I must take responsibility. I’m angry at myself. I let my wife down, and I let Janey down.” He rubbed his forehead, his breathing distressed. He’d had many painful years alone to ruminate on it. “I caved to Sarge’s arguments. You know how forceful he can be.”

“Very. Kind of scary. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t make mistakes.” I felt bad that he was blaming himself and worried I was causing him distress, but sometimes I had to dig deep like this.

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