Page 45 of Bay of Plenty

Mum cried out.

“Someone’s got him. He’s safe. He was outside.” Oh, thank God. That voice made me feel safer. I looked up. Declan. He reached down, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged like he’d sprinted up and down the beach. “Wait, both of you, be still.” Carefully, he picked glass shards from our hair and clothing—Mum first, then me. “I ran all around the house and along the beach. Couldn’t find anyone.”

Four police and an ambulance arrived. As one of the police officers took statements, the paramedic treated our cuts.

After the police looked around for some time, the supervisor sat us down at the dining table. “Someone threw a rock through your window. They must have been close to cause this kind of impact. But the act seems random, which might mean it’s bored kids.”

“Little shits,” said one of the officers behind him. She was hushed up. I knew it was more than that. It annoyed me that they were dismissing it so easily, but, sadly, this was the reaction I’d expected.

The glass man came immediately, cleaned up, and taped the window shut with board, ready for the glass delivery the next day. Upside of a small town.

While he did that, Declan took me aside. “I’m sure I saw Snow’s car drive away.”

It felt like something was stalking my heartbeat. I nodded. Declan touched my neck and moved closer. I held my breath.

“You okay? I won’t hug you; it might hurt.”

“I’m okay, thanks. I told Mum about your time in the army reserves and how we were lucky you were here,” I said in a pointed tone. He nodded, showing that he followed.

Rosemary came to pick up Mum and Fred to sleep at her house. Declan insisted on sleeping on the sofa in case anyone came back. With Mum out of harm’s way, I decided to sleep at home too.

“Could this be Snow?” I asked Declan as he made up the sofa. It was around midnight. I was bone-weary but still rifling through the mess in my brain for a clue as to what this meant. “This feels bad.” Giving up was not an option. I pressed against the sofa. “Do you think someone out there is sending us a message?”

He dropped a pillow and drilled his fingers into his temples. “I’ve had plenty of this through the years. Punctured tires, shots through the air, rocks through windows. But there’s always a note. ‘Stop digging.’ ‘Get out of town.’ ‘Next time, it’s your face.’ It’s part of the intimidation. Still, I’ll station some guys at The Mount. But you know that’s an hour away.”

That night in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep, I thought about how quick and experienced and physical Declan was, reacting within seconds. While I was considering whether the rock was a bird, he’d carried us behind the sofa. Roughly but effectively. I saw him differently, a small window into the sort of danger he went through. I couldn’t give up on this, despite the danger, but I was racked with guilt—did my parents have the right to know about the case? A dark thudding pit yawned in my stomach.

The fact this happened to him all the time drove home exactly the danger we were all in and what I’d taken on.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Day Five

The windowpane wasfitted first thing the following morning, but I still felt unsettled and on edge. We covered up our cuts with makeup and long clothes and didn’t tell Dad about the incident when we visited him, knowing it would cause him unnecessary stress and worry, and we spread the word not to mention it to him. Afterward, at yoga, everyone swamped us, inspecting our cuts, asking us to recall the smash, tutting about the cost of repairing the window.

“Bloody kids,” they all said, Sarge’s voice the loudest. Like Mum, so sure of their safe town, they believed it must be bored kids playing pranks.

We settled into cross-legged butterfly poses, and Kui’s soothing voice invited us to close our eyes, clear our minds, and focus on our breath.

Maybe I was still jittery with nerves because my eyes stayed open—to see Sarge turn and slash me with a look of pure venom, hurtling my thoughts into a loop that wound faster and faster. What he’d said to Snow, to Janey’s dad, played over and over in my mind until my head started pounding. My eyes felt leaden, and the cliff at the end of the beach, whereSarge insisted Janey had jumped, seemed to sway in the feverish sun. My breath came harsh, serrated.

Kui called out another pose. I grabbed my water and chugged it down.

Declan shot a concerned glance from his remarkably steady tree pose and mouthed,You okay?

I nodded. I did feel slightly better, but the class was over in a blur.

My fury surged back after yoga.

“Namaste,” Sarge boomed out, slapping his hands into prayer mode. “After you, ladies.” Then he announced, “Hope everyone’s coming to my rugby game? Chance to see some decent kids in our town, after all.”

I noticed everyone responded with a glowing “Good on you, Sarge” and “Wouldn’t miss it,” like he was single-handedly rescuing the town’s youth.

I took CeeCee aside and offered to walk her back to the boutique.

A heavy, clammy weight slapped my bare shoulder. I swung around.Ugh.Sarge’s hand gripped my skin. His face was so close his sweat flicked at me. People milled around still, including Mum and Rosemary. Declan was helping Kui load the props into her car.

“Sorry about the broken window, but I have to say this for everyone’s sake.” There was grit in his voice. “Mr.Saunders rang me this morning. He’s very…”—he took a deep, shuddering breath—“veryupset that you’re dragging up Janey’s death again. The poor man. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Let the girl rest in peace. And leave her father alone.”

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