Page 53 of Bay of Plenty

“So, if this bow-tied lawyer is buying the entire campground…” He wasn’t looking over my shoulder anymore, but his arm was rubbing against mine, and I felt a little electric spark from his skin. “What does that mean?”

“Maybe the bow-tied lawyer is the face of this transaction,” I said.

“And that means Snow is buying the whole campground.” He shook his head, incredulous.

“Which is costing him sixteen million.” My shoulders hiked up. “Is that why he’s trafficking heroin? Because he needs the money for the campground?”

Our instincts were right. Something about that campground was valuable.But what? Declan and I had researched this in the newspaper’s archives and had come up with nothing.

“This has to be our new deadline,” he said. “It’s not the final shipping day. It’s the day of the auction. Saturday afternoon at three.” That shortened our timeline even more.

My heart thumped against my rib cage. “God, Declan, we have five days. It feels like we know a lot of disparate things. At the same time, it feels like we are so far from solving this case.”

Normally composed, he dropped his head into his hands. “What are we missing?”

We were both stressed about the case, but I had to do this now. I told him about finding Janey’s diary. He was shocked, then listened silently. He read through her diary slowly and handed it back to me, almost reverentially. He took a deep breath.

“This is awful.” He screwed up his face in pain. “I’m so sorry, Isla. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I don’t want to minimize any of this.” He spoke with care and sat up straight. “But we have a case we’re working on. That’s our priority. Wecan’t be distracted in any way. After we’ve finished and you’ve written the story, that would be the time to examine this.”

I’d hoped he’d say something different, but in my heart, I hadn’t expected it. I nodded.

I couldn’t do anything to compromise the drug case. But I’d just found out my friend was abused, and that led to her death. It was too hard for me to give this up—especially if we suspected Janey’s dad. I truly didn’t want to suspect him.

A deep, gouging melancholy took hold of me. I knew I shouldn’t dismiss him, but I felt horribly conflicted.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“I’d love totake you up on your offer of fishing.” Declan tapped Snow’s foot. “Keen as.” It was after dinner that night, and both men were moving furniture under Mum’s direction for Dad’s arrival home the next day.

This was the new, active Declan. I noticed he looked different too, in a gray Henley that clung to his thick biceps, the neckline open, arms pushed up. After surfing, yoga, and visiting Dad twice, we’d spent the day chatting to as many locals as possible without raising suspicion and trying to pin down Rosemary, but there was no natural opening, and we decided to leave it until tomorrow before Dad’s homecoming barbecue. We also spoke to Declan’s team, and he instructed them to search for a scientist who could tell us more about synthetic heroin.

“Keen as.” Snow chuckled at Declan’s use of Kiwi slang. His face sparked. “Why notnow?C’mon, just the two of us. When Dad gets home, it won’t feel right until he can come, too, ’cause it’s our thing.”

Wait. Did he say “Dad,” not “Isla’s dad?”

Declan looked thrilled, but I knew his stomach must be plummeting. We both got seasick surfing but agreed the pills made us too drowsy and we’d get used to it. Fishing in theopen sea was on another scale altogether. We knew the first pill had to be taken the night before. Too late for that.

“Sweet,” Declan said. “I’ll go and grab my stuff.”

Like a dutiful girlfriend, I followed him to the bedroom to pack. Back in the room, I hung around while he changed into old jeans in the bathroom, then packed a thick sweater and a parka in case the weather turned nasty. He slugged down a seasick pill with water. Too late to be effective. We both knew he was in for a brutal couple of hours.

We were left staring at each other. He seemed tense. The air between us pulled tight, throbbing, and the room felt small. His eyes glittered as they swept over me, growing heavy-lidded as they met my bare flesh—my thighs below the hem of my new dress. The skin above my low neckline. I was suddenly aware of his corded forearms, his chest revealed by his unbuttoned shirt. The belt loops on his old jeans. My eyes ached to dip farther down to his…Stop.

He ground his jaw.

“C’mon, you two,” Snow called from outside the room. “Boat’s waiting for us.”

I walked them out to Snow’s car. There had to be a kiss goodbye. Declan put his hands on my shoulders and trailed them up to my neck, where he ran an index finger up and down my skin. Back and forth, back and forth. It felt like silk. Voices intruded, and I blushed, self-conscious. I tried harder to block them out as he moved his face toward me. I lifted my mouth, waiting for his kiss. But his lips moved to my ear. It tickled, and my knee slid involuntarily up the inside of his leg.

His lips brushed my cheek until we were eye to eye, so close I was seeing double, our noses smooshed against eachother. I gave a soft laugh because it was so absurd, but also, I was nervous.

“Okay?” he murmured, and when I nodded, he kissed my upper lip, holding it for a second with his teeth.

“Mmm,” I hummed.

Smiling, he turned his head and slowly laid his mouth on mine. Softly. And lifted off. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was a good kiss for a couple separated for a night.

He turned again, and I felt a zing on my upper lip as it touched his, and a clenching in my stomach, and somehow my lips acted on their own. They parted, wanting more.

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