Page 59 of Bay of Plenty

“I did wonder when you were going to ask.” She plumped her hair. “I can supply my own photo. Shall we sort through them for the one that would most appeal to your readers?”

I said gently that I looked forward to viewing them later.

“I’m writing a story, hopefully for my old newspaper’s property section, about investing in New Zealand. A real estate agent told me about this British client who’s becoming quite a big presence, and I was thinking about interviewing him about his experiences, predictions, and tips. It’s this guy.”

I showed her a photo ofourbow-tied lawyer. He was the overlapping director of Snow’s business and the London lab run by the synthetic heroin scientists. I’d gotten the photo from another company website that had pics of all its board members.

Her dropped jaw gave me the answer I wanted.

“That’s my client,” she fumed.

“True?” I tried to look shocked. “That issucha coincidence.”

“Bloody hell—who’s this real estate agent you’re talking about? This means my client is using two of us.”

“I can only say the real estate agent is in The Mount. Don’t think she’s trying to muscle in on your deal here in Ohope.”

“Maybe I should persuade my client to give me his business in The Mount as well.”

Oh shit. I hadn’t thought about that. The sound of a car. Snow arriving home with Dad. Early.

“That might look a bit desperate,” I said, trying not to look desperate myself. “I wouldn’t mention it at all. Don’t want to lose the business you have.”

Mum was right about Rosemary—she had all the skills and attention to detail to implement this campground sale, but she hadn’t grasped the overarching insight—that her buyer was a big-time crook.

I was about to ask more when Snow appeared at the back with Dad. Shock flared in me. Dad looked diminished and pale amid the tropical backyard. My chest filled with panic. He seemed too frail to be home. Racing to help, I took one of Dad’s arms, wincing as he grimaced in pain with each step.

While Dad rested on the sofa and Snow made him a cupof tea, I tugged Declan back to the bedroom and quickly told him what Rosemary had said.

“That confirms our deadline is five days away. I’ll alert two teams to be ready to converge on the auction.” He threw his arms up and shook his head. I’d never seen him so rattled. “What the fuck am I supposed to tell them? We still don’t know where Snow keeps the heroin, how it comes in, or if someone else besides Snow is involved. And worse, we don’t know how this campground is connected.”

Argh.

Guilt crawled up my throat, making it hard to swallow. The last thing he’d want me to do right now was investigate Janey’s disappearance.

Still, I didn’t want to call off a little trap Mum, Kui, and I had concocted. It was happening at Dad’s welcome-home dinner in half an hour.

I prayed Declan didn’t notice.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

It was eightpeople for dinner. Hopefully, five oblivious to the highly choreographed trick Mum, Kui, and I had planned. Absurd, but it might be the only way we could get even a veiled confession from Sarge. Snow and CeeCee couldn’t make it—perfect—but still, my stomach clenched, nervous.

Our plan was to corner Sarge to get to the bottom of his interaction with Janey the day before she died. We needed everyone to sit at the inside dining table except Kui, Sarge, and me, who had to eat on the sofas twenty feet away.

Mum quietly guided Mr.Saunders, Declan, Dad, Rosemary, and Clarebear to the inside table, tapping into personal quirks, like how Clarebear always wore her crossbody bag, even gardening. Mum insisted on minding the bag while Clarebear filled a plate with food, then hung it on a dining table chair. I hovered over the food table out back, waiting for Sarge, who was always last.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” I confided to him. “I’m sorry if I’ve been aggressive or pushy. I’m trying to ditch my bad Pommy habits.” Blaming the Brits usually worked in New Zealand.

He grunted a small, wary laugh. To soften him up, I askedabout his rugby team’s next game. He droned on until his plate was heaped with food.

As he walked through the doorway, Kui touched his shoulder. “Why don’t we sit on the sofas?” Once we were inside, annoyance scrambled Clarebear’s face, but it was too late for her to move. Politeness kept her stuck at the table. She was a sweet person, and I felt sorry that I was interfering with her marriage, but I had to do this.

We continued on the topic of rugby.

“You were such a wonderful coach to my boys, Sarge,” Kui said.

“A great support to Dad too. Look at all his friends sitting here—you and Mr.Saunders for a start.” I nodded to Janey’s dad at the table beside Mum, eating his meal quietly, but obviously enjoying the company. Kui agreed enthusiastically. I felt ill looking at him and wondering if he was the man who abused Janey.

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