Page 85 of Bay of Plenty

My journalist’s brain scrambled for a believable answer. “The real villains are the suppliers and the buyers. They’re the ones the police and Interpol want.”

She shoved her face closer, challenging me. “You know… I took Janey’s place with those girls, learned all her nasty tricks.”

I went rigid, taken aback by the change in subject. “I wish I understood why, though.” I was talking fast, hoping CeeCee would make the decision to take off. “Why do that to me?”

“Why? Because of what you did to Snow. I couldn’t have people think it was him. And those girls… they wanted a leader.”And all along, I’d thought it was the girls. They’d been keen, but not the main offender. Shit.

“And in Ohope, days ago?” I asked. “Did you cut up my clothes?”

She laughed, and it sounded almost maniacal. This whole conversation was so weird.

“Why the hell not? Add in myfearof Snow… you’re so gullible.”

So it seems.

“And the diary?” I asked. It felt almost farcical that we were talking about how she and Sarge had pulled this off.She’s going to kill me.I tried to breathe, but that thought had punctured my lungs.

“Had to get you out of the way. When Sarge told me you had my diary, I saw the opportunity to throw it all back at you. Thought that was completely fair, given how you were still poking your ‘investigative’ stick at Snow.”

“I’m beginning to understand that.”I’ve been a fool, like Kingi suggested.What the hell could I do with any of this information now?

“So why wouldyouhelpme? I don’t want some bullshit journalist answer.”

She shrank from me, and her face shut down. Was that a deep, sorrowful loneliness that bored through her face?

You. Me. Had she wanted me to answer her like a… friend?

I saw it now. I’d tried to outwit her, using all my techniques, knowledge, and training to show her I was stronger. The way I’d judged people, defined them in black and white, like the clothes I’d worn every single day. That suited my newspaper career, made for bolder headlines and a story easily summed up in the first paragraph. The inverted triangle that put all the news at the top and made an article compelling.

But trapped in this death cage of a helicopter, on this island of festering whale flesh, suffocating heat, and sulfur that threatened to burn our insides, I felt something of what it was like to be CeeCee, back against the wall.

Judging her was easy. What she needed was empathy.

“Why wouldIhelpyou, CeeCee?” I repeated her question. “I’ve been there. God, nothing as awful as what you’ve been through, nothing like the burden of what you’ve been carrying around for two decades trying to keep your secret safe. You were just a child and you had no one.” I rubbed my aching chest. “But I do know what it’s like to feel totally alone. I do know what it’s like to carry something heavy and painful around for years, and how it can tear you apart inside. To still feel like a frightened fourteen-year-old girl who longs for someone to trust.” I turned to her. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to be that someone, that person you trust. I want to support you, whatever happens.” I held her gaze, but she was still cagey. I didn’t want to lie to her that I could fix this. All I could offer was to be by her side. “Whateverhappens, okay?”

Something changed in her face. The wary sharpness was washed away and replaced by the softening of relief. Maybe because I’d acknowledged that it could go badly for her whenshe got back. I leaned closer and held out my hand to her. She brought her hand to touch mine and squeezed it, softly at first and then with more certainty.

BANG!

The helicopter slammed to one side, whacking both of us against the opposite window.

“CeeCee, the ash is going to flatten us.” The heroin and the poppy were on the seat beside us. I packed them into the basket under her seat. “This island is going to blow, and if we wait one minute longer, this helicopter won’t be able to fly. Let’s get off this island now. We’re going home.”

Chapter Fifty-Five

Up in theair, CeeCee rubbed the side of her head, as if forcing memories from a place she’d never wanted to visit again.

“How could I ever have thought I’d get the better of her?” She grimaced. “The irony. Every second of every day for the past twenty years, Janey’s dictated my every move.”

I thought about that for a beat. “I can identify with that, though your experience was much more serious and harrowing than mine.” I studied her profile. “What was she really like?” I shrugged. “I thought I knew her.”

“She was evil, took everything from you. She stole my diary. That was my diary you found in Janey’s box. And then she was your best friend, the most loving, caring, charismatic person ever. That’s why I told her about my father. But she used it against me. I wouldn’t take that note to Snow, and she punished me by reporting my father to Sarge.” She shuddered and made a face. “Yuck. I don’t want to call him my father. Creeper.”

My whole body shuddered with revulsion. Poor CeeCee having to live with that monster.

“Oh God, CeeCee, I’m sorry that happened to you,” Isaid. “I was confused when Mr.Saunders referred to this third person—it was you.”

“Janey was going to make Snow swear to be her secret boyfriend. If he didn’t agree, she would say he was anyway and get him in trouble because she was underage. She’d thought it through from every angle. I told her no, I couldn’t do that to Snow. But in the end, I pretended to take the note.”

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