Page 70 of Bay of Plenty

My shoulders slumped and curled inward. “Nothing happened in the end,” I argued weakly. “I don’t think he could bring himself to harm me.”

Declan crossed his arms and pinned me with a hard stare.

“You have information that will ruin his reputation, his whole life’s work. That information could get his face and name on the cover of your national newspaper. Worse, he could be arrested and serve jail time.” He took a deep breath. “Thatman is not going to harm you?”

Declan’s words dropped with the sharp, pointed weightof an anchor. Instead of determined and brave, my actions felt impulsive and shortsighted.

I shifted in my seat. I thought I’d weighed up the gravity of both plans—maybe not entirely—but as with the rest of my career, the risks had seemed worth it. I was willing to do what I could to hunt down the killer of my childhood friend. And no one, except Shay, had ever worried about me before.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know Janey meant a lot to you, and yes, I agree something’s off. You’re tenacious. I admire that, but until we make arrests on the heroin case, you cannot pursue this.”

He dropped to a crouch beside me. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.” His green eyes clouded with something else—a deep disappointment.

I bit the inside of my cheek. That look stung. I’d expected anger, but not that I’d hurt him. We’d come so far—to a place where I felt safe and free to bare something of myself, where I could reach down deep and explore those feelings I’d always wondered about but had thought were not for me. Now, I’d yanked us back into our secrets.

I dropped my head into my hands. “I’m sorry.”

He reacted with a quick glance and no words, like my weak “sorry” didn’t make any difference. Immediately, he made some calls. Two undercover officers would be parked outside all night. I worried about explaining that to Dad if he noticed or to Rosemary, who had immediately spotted the previous ones.

A knock on our door. I opened it. Mum. Declan left to get some air.

“It makes me feel sick that we were friends with him for decades.” She shivered. “We don’t know him at all—there’s no telling what he’s capable of.”

We called Kui and Bevan.

“He’s a liar and a thief,” I said, after I’d told them what happened. Mum rubbed my arm. “Doesn’t this confirm that he’s covering up for the killer? Or maybe he killed her himself?”

Chapter Forty-Six

Day Ten

Friday, Day Before the Auction

The following morning,Mum decided she’d come down and watch our surf lesson. The undercover officers were keeping track of us, Declan had said. I had spotted some well-built men and women who looked like tourists. Two teams would be on standby tomorrow, one for the auction and another at the port at The Mount.

We had only a day to figure out how the campground was involved and where the heroin was hidden. “It’s one thing to have people ready to make arrests,” Declan said before we left. “But if we don’t know what the hell is happening, we’re totally on the back foot.” The previous night’s conversation meant it was doubly strained, and I was quiet around him.

We all waved to Snow as he sauntered out of the waves twenty feet away. Snow gave the thumbs-up, but something behind us caught his eye. His mouth moved in a discernible “Fuck.”

I spun around to catch what he was looking at. A police car had pulled up outside our house, its yellow and blue stripes screamingpanic.Dad?Without a word, we sprintedback to the house. Declan, who ran every day, surged ahead. Mum, behind me, whimpered in a slow jog. A few seconds later, Snow bolted past me.

Declan reached the police car first, then Snow. They stood at the curb, talking to the two police officers who had gotten out of the car. As I joined them, Dad appeared on the front deck with a barking Fred. Thank God. He was okay. I breathed out in relief.

Neighbors rushed to us. “Everything okay?” and “Can we help?”

We waited for Mum, who, ignoring all of us, jogged unstably up the gravel path to fall on Dad with a teary hug.

One of the police obviously knew Snow. “Sorry, mate,” he said as we hurried up the path. “Only family and other persons currently living or staying in this house.”

“Iamfamily,” Snow insisted.Not true and never will be.

Dad called to the cop. “Yes, whatever this is, he’s family.”

The policeman said, “Sorry, but still no.”

Declan patted Snow on the back and promised to give him a call after whatever this was.

Inside, the two police officers, dressed in navy trousers, vests bulky with pockets, and checkered caps, stationed themselves near the dining table, clipboards under their arms. Both were taller than Declan, well over six feet, hefty like rugby players. One was in his twenties, the senior officer in his thirties. They introduced themselves and warned us they were wearing body cams, not widely used by police in New Zealand. This was serious.

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