by K T Bowes
‘She set me up! This isn’t over!’ Hana read it aloud, her jaw stiffening in the effort to hide the spiteful smirk teasing her lips. Logan’s brow furrowed.
“What’s she talking about? She dumps me at the altar and then propositions me at work. I don’t think I ever understood her.”
Hana swallowed but didn’t enlighten him. “Why does she have your number?”
Logan shrugged. “I got that sim card when I came back to New Zealand. What’s that? Six years?”
“But you’ve still got hers.” Hana’s tone sounded flat.
“Don’t read anything into it.” Logan reached out an index finger and traced the line of her jaw. “Scroll up, Hana. Do you see my reply to any of her messages?”
Hana obeyed and nodded, the evidence of his truthfulness on the screen. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “She’s texted you hundreds of times.” Her lips pulled into a tight, straight line as Hana flicked the screen with her finger and revealed Caroline’s desperation.
“And I never answered.” Logan bit his lip and concentrated on Hana’s face, night shadows forming darkened areas beneath her elfin features.
Hana stared at the phone with hatred in her eyes, its green display ghoulish in the darkness. Logan reached out his hand and cupped her chin, bringing her face up so she met his grey eyes. “What does she mean, Hana? Is she talking about you? What did you do?”
Hana assumed a haughty expression, wearing it like a defensive shield. She tossed her red hair and the wind snatched it, puffing it behind her like a sail. “Angus thinks she’s sleeping with Chris Carter. I gave him a little hard proof and he must have taken it to the trustees.”
“Chris Carter? Are you sure?” Logan sounded more incredulous than hurt. “That can’t be right. Carter’s wife just had a baby girl. No idiot would risk losing all that.”
“Why not?” Hana spoke softly, her voice sounding distant and swathed in pain. She directed her anger towards Caroline. “She only cares about herself! I hate women like her!” Hana’s eyes misted over, an odd expression on her face and the phone still in her hand. Without warning, she turned and threw it into the deepest part of the gully where it contacted the sludgy water with a resounding plop.
“Hana!” Logan’s eyes widened in shock. “Geez woman. You’re a worry.” Hana showed no sign of repentance and he bit his lip in amusement at the fiery redhead. Her hands rested on her hips and she flicked her head so her auburn hair cascaded down her back.
“I’m not sorry,” she bit.
“Yep. I can see that.” Logan shook his head from side to side. “You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t ya?”
Hana shrugged. “Maybe. That’s for me to know and you to find out.” She hefted the briefcase and her handbag back into place on her arm. “I’m sure you can remember the important numbers for your new phone.” Her forced casualness made Logan raise an eyebrow in an effort not to laugh. He put his arm around her and edged her up the shallow incline towards the road.
“I’ll have to now,” he said, faking a look of annoyance which only lasted as far as the street. “Anyone ever tell you how hot you are when you’re angry?”
Hana shook her head and conjured up Vik’s face. “No,” she said. “Not everyone appreciates it.”
Caroline Marsh sat in her stinky rental room with her notice of termination in her lap. She reapplied her lipstick and waited. “Come on, Logan,” she groaned. “You have to answer me this time. You hate injustice. Kick the little bimbo into touch.” She ran her fingers through her short hair and gave herself a windswept look, comparing the shorn locks to Hana’s amber tresses.
Her text reclined at the bottom of the gully, the phone filling with water as the connections fizzled and died. The stab in Caroline’s warped heart felt physical, even though she didn’t see Logan press his wife against the car and lean in for a kiss. Hana’s laughter tinkled like tiny bells in the darkness. “I should get mad more often,” she said with a sigh.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday night came around fast. Hana’s comfort levels grew, the threat of attack almost unreal as Logan’s safety precautions made them harder to trace. Hana relaxed and failed to notice her tendency towards sloppiness.
Work and the pain in his arm exhausted Logan and he slept after the long drive home under the influence of strong painkillers. One evening, Hana nipped into Ngaruawahia to the post office to post a letter to Izzie and ended up in the local supermarket, buying so much food her trolley overflowed. A packet of sanitary towels did a peculiar dance and hurled themselves onto the floor. As she bent to retrieve them, her fingers contacted the hand of a man in a business suit who also reached for them. Her fear rushed back like a burst dam. “Sorry.” He sat the bright pink packet on the top of a cereal box and smiled at Hana. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Hana shook her head. “Thanks,” she gushed, pushing the packet between a loaf of bread and a carton of milk. She resisted his attempts at small talk and moved away, smoothing her frown with tired fingers. The aisles of shopping closed in on her, reminding her of her foolishness and Hana felt her knees wobble beneath her. “Idiot!” she hissed and moved towards the cashier, glancing around her in fear. The businessman watched her from the end of the confectionery aisle and Hana felt her heart rate increase.
By the time the shopping left the conveyor belt for carrier bags, it wouldn’t all fit into the trolley. A shop assistant accompanied her to the Honda with a second one. Hana thanked him and left tyre marks on the floor of the car park as she sped away, activating the central locking and breathing through pursed lips. The food clanged around in the boot as she made the steep climb up to the house.
Logan met her on the porch as the car revved up the hill. He rubbed his eyes and leaned his hip against the balustrade. “Where’d you get to?” he asked, his body foggy with sleep. Hana covered her face and burst into tears.
“This is nice,” sighed Logan later as they sat at the kitchen table, polishing off a bottle of red wine. He wiped his top lip with his fingers, savouring the spaghetti Bolognese he helped Hana make.
“Want me to feed you?” Hana joked, her chest still hitching from her tearful outburst.
“Na, I’m full.” Logan laid his fork down and stopped fighting the wriggling strands of pasta. “I don’t need to tell you to be more careful, do I?” His tone grew serious and Hana shook her head.
“No.” Her chest hitched again and Logan’s face relaxed, forcing away the lurking hint of pain in his eyes. Hana twirled spaghetti around her fork and a stream of tomato sauce jetted across her face and into her eye. Logan laughed until he realised she hadn’t joined in. She looked down, prodding a blob of sauce with her spoon.
“It’s okay, babe,” he whispered. “No harm done.” He kicked her softly under the table with his bare foot.
A slow, rumbling vibration moved through the floorboards and they both froze in position. The monitor for the gate bleeped in the hallway and Hana’s eyes opened wide. She stared at Logan, her breath catching in her throat. “It’s not possible. They said nobody could get in!”
Logan shook his head, doubt flitting across his face. “They’re not meant to.”
They heard a vehicle labouring against the incline as the driver crunched through the gears. “The man at the shop, the man at the shop!” Hana squealed, casting around her in panic.
“What man?” Logan rose and pushed the chair back with the side of his leg. It skittered across the floorboards and hit the side of the sink. “What bloody man? You said he didn’t follow you.”
“Just a man, an ordinary man. But he must be one of them.” Hana backed against the pantry door and attempted to flatten herself enough to disappear. Wrenching open a drawer, Logan’s good hand settled on the trusty rolling pin. He hefted it right handed and wrinkled his nose.
“Better than nothing,” he said.
“I used it to clout the man who hurt me at the old house,” Hana whimpered. “I
t’s still got dents in.”
Logan looked at the long roll of pine and then back at Hana. “Do I look like I’m bothered?” he hissed at her. “I’m about to make more dents in it.”
Hana bit her lip and put her hands over her face. “Oh,” she moaned. “I’m sick of this.”
“Lights out!” Logan snapped the order but found Hana already half way to the switch. He took a couple of air swings to get his balance. Hana watched him wide eyed as he shrugged in the half-light and looked at it in disgust. Moving out into the hallway, Logan flicked that light off too and the house plunged into darkness.
They huddled together, watching through the side window as the lights grew closer. Headlamps illuminated the house in an aggressive arc as the vehicle mounted the brow of the hill and settled on the flat section. Logan lowered the rolling pin and Hana reached for it, believing his arm gave way. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.” She sniffed in terror, stifling the sob at the back of her throat.
“Get off!” Logan whispered and lifted it higher than she could reach.
“Give it to me, I’ll defend us!” Hana sounded irritated and jumped up and down on the spot with her arms in the air.
A car door slammed. Footsteps. The rattle of a key in the lock. Hana froze in position, one hand grappling for the rolling pin as the front door opened and the hall light illuminated the scene.
Bodie stood in the gap, letting in a family of moths who fluttered straight to the still warm light bulb. He looked at the welcoming committee in amazement. “Have I interrupted something?” he asked, his policeman’s brain working overtime.
Hana’s voice came out as a shriek, “What! Interrupted what?”
“Well,” replied her son, “Why are you fighting over a rolling pin in the dark, covered in blood?” He narrowed his dark eyes and glared at Logan.
It took a while to convince Bodie that Logan hadn’t beaten his mother. The drying spaghetti sauce stains proved convincing enough to make Hana’s son furious. “But are you sure the gate is closed?” she demanded for the fifth time and Bodie closed the front door with his foot.
“They close themselves!” he bit. “Geez Mum, calm down!”
Logan sighed and shrugged himself back into his jacket one-handed. “Look, I’ll walk down and check,” he said, winking at Hana leaving them alone to talk.
“I said I needed to speak to you!” Bodie insisted, his voice becoming whiney as he repeated the sentence again. “I’ve transferred to Hamilton. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“I am pleased.” Hana tied her ponytail behind her head. “It’s been one hell of a week.”
Bodie rolled his eyes and jerked his head at the front door. “It looks like it. How’d he break his arm?”
Hana sighed and sank into a kitchen chair. “His nephew did it in temper as Logan tried to protect me.”
“Is this the same randy nephew who had it away with Ivan’s missus?”
Hana cringed at her son’s bluntness regarding Anka. “Yes. Tama.”
“Do you know where Anka is?” asked Bodie.
Hana shrugged. “Not really.” But her green eyes betrayed her.
“Mum! Do you or don’t you?”
“I do now, but I didn’t then,” she replied as Logan closed the front door behind him and kicked off his boots. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows in a look of irritation at Bodie’s aggressive tone. Hana examined the table with avid interest, determined not to betray her friend’s confidence. “Why are you asking about Anka?”
Bodie leaned forward and his brown eyes filled with curiosity and concern. “Because her husband’s filed a missing report,” he replied.
CHAPTER NINE
“She’s not missing,” Hana said, her cheeks flushing. “She’s in Russell.”
Bodie shook his head. “Then you should tell someone. Her husband’s going mental and we can’t help him yet because she’s a grown woman. She can go wherever she likes as long as we don’t suspect foul play.”
Hana nodded and sighed. “My last conversation with Ivan was horrible. He blames me.” She baulked at Bodie’s raised eyebrow. “Can’t you just text him and say she’s messaged me? I won’t tell him where she is though. She wants no one to know.”
“Fine. Show me the text as evidence.” Bodie waited for Hana to find it and then snapped a picture with his phone camera. “I’ll add it to the file and call him myself.”
“Thanks.” Hana twisted her lips into a pout. “So, tell me about this transfer to Hamilton. Is it permanent?”
“Yeah. I need to train with the fast cars and take a test to prove I can drive them. Then I’ll launch my new career path as a traffic cop. There are more courses and probationary periods with other officers, but I’m hopeful it will be a better fit.” Bodie smiled at Hana, his aura settled. Contentment clothed him like a good fitting jacket. “Can I crash here with you for a few days, before I move into the unit in town with the other single guys?” He raised an eyebrow in expectation. “I’ll stash my gear in that tiny room next to the garage.”
“It’s fine. But what about Amy and Jas?” Hana asked.
Bodie heaved in a huge sigh and told her most of the story. She sensed he missed out the parts which might disappoint her most. “I fell in love with Amy at police training college. We carried on our affair back in Hamilton but it got complicated.”
Hana’s eyes narrowed. “As in a complicated boyfriend or husband?” She swallowed back the fear he might have rejected Amy because of Jas.
Bodie blinked, caught off guard by her astuteness. He nodded, his high cheekbones flushing with colour. “Husband. Amy stayed with him, so I transferred north as fast as I could. I knew I couldn’t cope with seeing her at work all the time.”
“Oh.” Hana nodded, a slow, cautious action blossoming with understanding. “That’s why you left. You became so unhappy and then just disappeared. Because of Amy?”
“I honestly didn’t know about Jas, Mum.” Bodie leaned forward, his expression earnest. “She never told me I had a son. I found out by accident on my last visit home. Someone at the station said something about her taking a year off on leave after training college. I thought maybe she hurt herself as much as me when she broke it off.” Bodie swallowed. “I needed to find out.” He fiddled with the spout of the hot teapot, hissing in irritation when the brown pottery burned his fingers. Hana laid her hand over his to still the fidgeting and invited him to continue. “Amy’s marriage dissolved because of the pregnancy. The prospective birth of a little quarter Indian baby would have sealed her fate anyway, even if her husband stuck around. He never wanted children and she knew the score.”
“So she’s managed alone?” Hana’s brow knitted and she bit back her ready condemnation of Bodie.
He nodded and she saw the flash of shame and regret cross his eyes. “I didn’t know,” he repeated. “Her husband’s a cop and he transferred out too. He remarried and lives in Wellington.”
“So what’s the plan?” Hana asked, releasing his fingers.
Bodie swallowed. “Jas is the priority now,” he said. “I still love Amy but I don’t know if we can ever get past the hurt and misery. It needs to be okay for the kid and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“That’s a good plan.” Hana sighed and ran a hand through her fringe. “That makes me proud.”
Bodie’s phone chirped in his pocket and he peered at the screen, instantly distracted. Logan walked into the kitchen, his complexion white and a sheen of dampness on his forehead.
Hana looked at him in question and he waved her concern away. “I’m fine,” he reassured her. “I went to the bathroom. Stop worrying.”
Hana stood and refilled the kettle and Logan kissed the side of her face, closing his eyes against the pain of his injury. She saw Bodie’s expression change to one of discomfort as he observed their intimacy. Logan’s good arm snaked around Hana’s waist as though staking possession in the gentlest of movements. Bodie grou
nd his teeth and cleared his throat. “Too much public display, thanks.”
Hana pulled back with a snort. “I suppose it’s a huge leap for you, accepting I’m no longer just your mother.”
“A bit.” Bodie shifted in his seat and refused to engage eye contact with Logan. Hurt and betrayal bridled in his expression and made him spiteful. “I suppose eight years of widowhood is a decent interval,” he snapped.
Logan opened his mouth and then closed it again, clamping his tongue between his teeth.
Bodie’s phone rang and he looked at the screen, answering the call and standing. He moved into the hallway, still speaking. “Mate!” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Good on ya, son. That’s awesome. A Gold Certificate! Show me tomorrow when I come round. How about we take Mum to lunch?”
Hana heard his footsteps pad along the hallway to the single bedroom near the back stairs. He kept talking, his tone light and carefree.
“Sorry.” Logan’s shoulders slumped as he leaned against the counter. He tried to fold his arms but jarred the cast and a look of agony fleeted across his face.
“No you’re not.” Hana raised an eyebrow at him. “But it’s fine. I couldn’t stay a widow forever just to please my son and I won’t reject your affection just to please him.”
“Still, it’s hard for him,” Logan acknowledged. His lips quirked upwards. “Especially now he’s seen me wielding a rolling pin above your head.”
Hana snorted. “My hero,” she simpered and he laughed.
“I knew who it was anyway,” he said, smirking at the look of disbelief in her face.
“No you didn’t!”