Page 63 of Bay of Plenty

“But what about this case? We’re trying to stop Snow from exporting heroin—isn’t that the right thing? Surely hard drugs will corrode this town? And what about the users? Some of them must be kids?”

“I’m not as certain anymore. I sometimes wonder if we shouldn’t legalize all drugs. Doesn’t stop kids from takingthem, but we can monitor their use, and everything’s out in the open.” He sighed. “I used to love this job, and nothing at home could compete with the thrill. Now it’s not thrilling or satisfying. I see myself becoming cynical, and that’s not who I want to be. I worry that I’m losing myself, mirroring other people. I guess my promotion won’t improve my state of mind because it’s still undercover, but it will be shorter assignments. It’s part of my job, and I’m good at it, but being around you has shown me its limits. You’re always yourself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Prickly, impatient, judgmental.”

His mouth hitched at the corner. It was one of my favorite smiles on his handsome face.

“Other things too. It’s part of my job, and it’s always worked, but I was ashamed for the first time.”

Maybe he needed to leave police work and use his skills in a different area.

A deep understanding had grown between us, and I felt I could say anything to him now.

But I was so exhausted I needed sleep. I barely had the strength to take the first shower, brush my teeth, line up the pillows again, and climb into bed. Declan turned out the light for me.

When he slipped under the covers, that understanding turned to something else. His heat radiated through the lined-up pillows—or was I imagining it? His breathing was disturbed. For the first time, he struggled to get to sleep, twisting his legs, rolling onto his stomach, shifting to his side.

I had never been more aware that his entire body was a pillow away from mine, barely covered. I thought about what I could do after the case was resolved. I would say his name. Tip the pillows off the bed. I pictured all that skin and muscle edging closer, his lips on mine, his fingers tracing myhand and my thigh, his leg hooking over my hip. I would find out what he likes and hear the sounds he makes when I touch him.

But how would I be certain he felt the same about me?

Chapter Forty-One

Day Eight

I wasn’t amorning person, but for some reason, when I woke, my eyes flicked wide open. I checked the time on my phone: 5:30 a.m. I brushed my teeth and roused Declan.

“Let’s see the sunrise,” I said. Dad had mentioned that Ohope was one of the first places in the world to see the sun—5:58 a.m.—best views from the cliff top. I’d put it off, as it had nothing to do with the investigation. But this morning, something in me couldn’t wait another day.

Declan brushed his teeth and changed into his running gear. We walked the still-dark beach in silence, the whoosh of the waves filling the space, brushing against each other as we moved. Declan tapped his phone light to guide us up the cliff. Streams trickled down mossy walls, and gnarly old pohutukawa trees arched over us.

Finally, we climbed the stairs to the top. Dropping to the bench, puffing a bit, we waited. Declan’s hand on the bench touched mine.

Nothing but the sound of our breathing broke the silence. The sun peeked out, more, more, and then roared with blazing arms of orange and yellow. Released from the horizon, itsoared into the sky, finding new strength with every second. A breathtakingly beautiful sunrise flashed up from the edge of the world. Blinking open to the bright gold light, the trees filled with chirping birds and rustling creatures.

I nudged Declan’s arm with my shoulder. “We’re one of the first to see the sun today.”

He nudged me back. His arm stayed pressed against mine as we swayed.“You and me.”

*

My phone pinged with a cryptic text while I was lingering after yoga to chat. Declan had already left to call his team from home.

Ihave information for you about Janey. Meet me under the palm trees in five minutes.

I checked the time: 11:00 a.m.

Who was this?

Another ping.This is Sarge.

What?I glanced up to see him pocketing his phone and heading towards the palm trees. Declan knew my suspicions about Sarge, but he also said that Sarge could be useful to the drug investigation. I assumed he would approve of me meeting him to keep that relationship open. I had to go now.

“I’m about to hand you something that could get me into a lot of trouble,” Sarge said when I met him. “I keep some old police files at home, for everyone’s protection. These are the daily logs. They detail incoming calls, visitors, and outgoing responses. Take them, read them, and I’ll return in half an hour. I’m doing this to put your mind at rest.”

I nodded, acting eager and super grateful but under no illusions. He was doing this to get in Kui’s good books. Also,he allowed me to read the pages alone—he must expect me to photograph them.

He returned a half hour later and asked what I thought.

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