by K T Bowes
“Cool,” Hana replied, hanging her coat in the cupboard. She averted her face while she tried deep breathing to calm her nerves. “Idiot!” she rebuked herself. “It’s not like someone broke in and bashed him after standing their wellies up neatly on the porch.”
“What?” Logan’s strong fingers seized Hana’s shoulders and he kissed the top of her head. “Talking to yourself?”
“Yep. You married a crazy woman.” Hana swallowed and bit her bottom lip.
“Come and say hello.” Logan guided her towards the kitchen, rubbing her shoulders as he felt her trembling. “You okay?” he whispered and she nodded.
Maihi sipped herbal tea and Logan returned to mashing potatoes one-handed. Hana felt like an intruder. “Something smells good,” she offered. “I’m guessing it’s your handiwork, not my husband’s?”
Maihi scuttled round the table and embraced her. “Haere mai,” she breathed into Hana’s cheek.
“Hey! I can cook,” Logan grumbled. “I just haven’t had the chance yet.”
“Tēnā koe,” Hana whispered, self-conscious of her faulty Māori. Maihi squeezed her arm and gave her an affectionate grin before leading her to the table.
“Sit with me,” she said, keeping hold of Hana’s hand. “What’s the matter?”
Hana gaped at her intuition and then cringed as Logan looked around from his task. The air between them crackled and he dropped the potato basher into the pan. “What’s wrong, Hana?” he demanded.
She raised her hand to still his ire. “Nothing,” she replied, ruining the effect by chewing her lower lip. “Nothing with me,” she conceded. “Anka rang me to ask about your health and Tama must have heard it. He checked my phone and intercepted her voicemail. He let her think she spoke to me and managed to discover where she’s hiding.” Hana swallowed. “By the time I realised, he’d already left.”
“Stupid little shite!” Logan ground his teeth and went back to the mashed potato. His one-handed bashing took on new meaning.
“Youse need to text her,” the older woman said into the uncomfortable silence. “Let your friend know he’s coming. You’d want a warning, aye?”
Hana nodded and watched Logan’s stiff back. “I did,” she admitted. “She didn’t reply.”
Logan ceased torturing the potatoes and rubbed his good hand through his hair with rigid fingers. The long dark layers on top flopped forwards from his parting. “Bloody woman!” he hissed. “He’s just a kid. She should’ve left him alone.”
“It takes two, tāne,” Maihi commented. “I think they both knew the odds.” She patted Hana’s hand and furrowed her brow with concern. “It’s not this girl’s fault.”
Logan turned to face the women. “Did I accuse her?” he demanded.
“I’m not giving you the chance.” Maihi raised her chin in defiance and gripped Hana’s fingers. “She looks to me like a wahine taking the blame. What do you think?”
Logan’s gaze strayed to Hana’s blank expression and his shoulders slumped. “It’s not your fault, Hana. It’s mine. I let him come here and should have anticipated this.” He stepped across and sat in the seat next to her. “It’s not your fault, mate,” he soothed.
“Good boy,” Maihi said and Hana stared in surprise as Logan grinned with pleasure.
“Dinner?” he offered. He stood and pulled the door of the oven open to reveal glistening pastry. He looked at Maihi for an answer.
“Na,” she replied, getting up with a grunt. “I gotta get back for me old man.” She smiled, kissed them both and left, letting herself out through the front door. They heard her chasing her boots around the porch and cussing as one flopped down the steps to the driveway.
Logan leaned against the counter and stared at the bush. “Sorry,” he said, without turning around. “We’re past this. I know it’s not your fault.”
“Thanks.” Hana wound her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his spine. He clasped her hand and she felt the abrasive cast against her skin as his body moved.
“I’m gonna bloody kill that kid,” Logan muttered and Hana sighed. Sheila’s news and the request for her to return to work paled in significance against Hana’s need for Logan to love her. She breathed in his familiar scent and felt his strong body beneath her palms. Her fingers strayed to his shirt and she loosed the buttons and ran her hands across his muscular chest. A smile of mischief lit her pretty lips as Logan reached across to turn the heat down on the pie.
The bedroom curtains blocked out the remains of daylight as the clock ticked into evening. Hana snuggled into Logan’s naked side and a sense of safety shrouded her. “The pie and mash will be cold,” she breathed, tickling the hairs on Logan’s chest. He twitched and stroked the back of her neck.
“Yeah. I’ll reheat them.”
“What will you tell Maihi when she comes back for her dish in a while?”
“I’ll tell her I got busy doing something else.” Logan turned on his side, wincing as he compressed his wound. “She won’t come back tonight, anyway. It’s a good twenty minute walk.”
“Really?” Hana frowned. “She carried the pie all that way?”
“Yep.”
“Wow!” Hana’s respect for their elderly neighbour increased. “We’d best eat it then.” She stroked the scar under Logan’s eye and kissed the end of his nose.
“I’ll get up when you do.” Logan closed his eyes and pulled her closer. “What did Sheila want?”
“That’s a hard one.” Hana sighed. “I almost didn’t recognise her. She’s lost weight, changed her hair and had a boob job. And divorced Martin for cheating on her.”
“At last!” Logan opened one eye and squinted at her sideways.
Hana rose up on her elbow. “You knew?”
“Yeah. Alan asked me to keep quiet.”
“Dobbs? You call Dobbs Alan?”
“That’s his name.” Logan smirked. “Just because you call him rude names doesn’t mean I have to.”
Hana tossed her hair and hit him in the face with her ponytail. “Should I go back to work on Monday?” she asked. “You don’t need me.”
Logan pulled her into his chest and wriggled so she didn’t disturb his latest dressing. “Yeah, I do.” He sounded sulky.
“No you don’t.” Hana squeaked as he tickled her ribs. “I need to go back.”
Logan pinned her arms by her sides and kissed her neck. “I don’t want you to. It’s not safe.”
Hana’s rebellion rose up and her desire for normality kicked against her enforced restrictions. “Sheila asked me,” she complained. “I’ve got things to do.”
Logan heaved out a sigh. “Hana, we park the car miles from school and walk through a gully. You can’t do that by yourself.”
“I’ve got Bodie’s car,” she argued. “They followed Amy and Bo in my Honda so they must think I got rid of it.”
“They followed Amy and Bodie?” Logan’s tone became serious and Hana cringed at her mistake. She opened her mouth to continue her case and he shook his head.
“I’m not talking about it now,” he said. “I need a clear head. Let me think about it for a while, please?” He cradled Hana’s head against his shoulder and sighed. “I’ll ring Bodie in the morning and ask his advice.”
“He doesn’t know what to do,” Hana mused. “I’m coming to the conclusion the cops are a bit rubbish.”
Logan suppressed his uncharitable thoughts and nodded against his pillow. “Just leave it with me,” he repeated.
Hana found her phone battery dead in her handbag and charged it in the kitchen. “Still nothing from Anka,” she commented.
Logan closed his eyes and tried not to let her see his distaste even for the woman’s name.
“What do you think will happen if Tama gets as far as Russell?” Hana asked, chewing her lip.
Logan’s patience began to crack. “I don’t know and I don’t care, Hana. She made her bed and she can suffocate in
it. Let’s not get dragged any further into their stupid mess.”
When the gate buzzer sounded in the lobby, Hana ran to the window. The house vibrated with the steady rumble of a car climbing the hill and headlights illuminated the porch. “It’s the kids,” she called and unlocked the front door.
Amy’s old Civic laboured up the rise and Jas escaped before the car engine ceased. Hana met him with a rebuke at the top of the porch steps. “Please don’t do that,” she said, her tone stern. “What a shame to find a new grandson and then watch him get squashed on my own driveway.” She watched as Amy rolled her eyes.
“But I’ve got stuff for you!” he complained. “I drew a picture of Poppa Logan in the hospital and bought you a necklace from Cambridge market.”
“Thank you.” Hana accepted the trinket from his outstretched hand. “It’s beautiful. And so are little boys who do as their mummies tell them. They’re more precious than gold.”
“Are they?” Jas cocked his head and observed Hana through Vikram Johal’s brown eyes. Hana shivered with the incongruity of his gaze, feeling as though ghosts walked across her grave. He nodded with satisfaction. “That’s cheaper then, isn’t it? If I behave good, I don’t need to buy stuff.”
“That works for me,” Hana said and kissed the top of his head. “Hey,” she said to Amy as the girl climbed the porch steps.
Bodie locked up the car and shook his head at Hana. “Kid’s a nightmare,” he muttered. Hana saw the colour rise on Amy’s cheeks and felt the sting of Bodie’s judgement. She swallowed her biting retort and smiled at Amy.
Hana heard Jas running through the house before his parents managed to kick their shoes off. “The beds are bare,” he complained. “And my new-old Poppa is gone.”
“Logan’s nephew stayed overnight and I washed the sheets.” Hana tried not to grit her teeth at the reminder of Tama. “And Poppa Alfie needed to go home.”
“But I don’t like it!” Jas stamped his foot. “I want it like it was before.”
“Oh, Jas, stop it!” Bodie snapped, running his hand across his jaw and Amy pursed her lips.
“The sheets are dry,” Hana said. “I’ll put them on later.”
“Now,” Jas insisted. “I want to do it now.”
Amy heaved out a sigh. “I’ll do it with you,” she offered, jerking her head towards Bodie. “Dad wants to talk to Hanny.”
Logan made an expert one-handed pot of tea while Bodie sat at the table very still. Hana watched his agitation with growing unease. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. She lowered her voice. “Problems with Jas and Amy?” Bodie shook his head and stared at Logan’s back. Hana persevered. “Are you upset Tama stayed here?” she asked. “We didn’t have much choice.” Logan turned his head and raised an eyebrow. Hana bit her lip and corrected herself. “Well, Logan invited him. I didn’t have a choice.” Logan tutted behind her and Hana stuck her chin in the air in defiance.
Bodie shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I’m not five, Mum. You can have other people to stay.”
“Fine then.” Hana slapped her palms on the table. “I give up.”
“I went to see Ethel Bowman,” he snapped, his sentence short and punctuated by an exasperated intake of breath. “She’s a stupid woman.”
Hana’s brow furrowed. “That’s kinda rude but also appropriate.”
Logan plonked the teapot on the table. “Did you go in uniform?” he asked.
Bodie shook his head. “No, I’m not an idiot. I said I heard she asked about Mum and wanted to reassure her. I lied and said Mum went on honeymoon. She let me in the house and did her usual song and dance about caring. She asked me heaps of questions. When did you go? When are you back again?” Bodie’s nostrils flared and he smirked. “She let me in and I drank tea, patted the cat and admired the knitted doilies. Then I dropped it into the conversation that Mum mentioned a boyfriend.”
Hana’s jaw dropped. “You made me sound like a gossip?”
“Who cares?” Logan sat next to Hana and leaned forward. “What did she say?”
“She behaved coy. I showed an interest and asked to see a photo. She said he didn’t like his photo taken.”
“Damn!” Logan leaned back in the chair. “Never mind.”
Bodie raised a hand like a magician. “It’s not over. I suggested he might not be real.”
Hana gaped. “That’s horrible!”
“That’s genius.” Logan tipped forward and back and nodded in appreciation. “Masterstroke. What did she say?”
Bodie’s eyes widened. “She got mad. Bristled like a hedgehog. She said she knew my mother didn’t raise me to be spiteful.”
“I didn’t,” Hana retorted.
“Then she showed me a photo.” Bodie grinned and held up his phone. “They drove to Rotorua for a day trip and she snapped a quickie on her phone to show her sister. I blue toothed it to mine when she left the room for a minute.”
“Let me see,” Hana demanded, holding out a shaking hand.
Bodie pressed keys on his flash iPhone and held it up to her. “You won’t know him, Mum. He’s a little old grandad with no distinguishing features.”
Logan peered closer. “White hair, stick. He’s generic.”
“Yup.” Bodie laid the device on the table. “But then I showed it to one of the detectives working for Odering.” His eyes sparkled. “He lit up like a Christmas tree. This is the man they’re looking for.” Bodie’s tone sounded serious, holding a myriad of hidden warnings and Hana blanched. “Look, he seduces and rips off vulnerable women. Ethel Bowman is the latest in a long line. The last one from up north lost everything, her home, savings, he scammed it all. His method is to produce dud papers from his company, claiming he needs a small cash injection of a couple of thousand. He goes to great lengths to make it look like he’s drawing up legal papers, but they aren’t real. Once the women are committed and he owes them a little, he asks for more and more until there’s nothing left. Then he leaves them. He’s acquired a decent income using that method, but with the last fraud he did something different.”
“What?” Logan spat the word like gunfire, the urgency in his tone frightening Hana. She tensed from her hips and held her breath.
Bodie lay his phone on the table and Hana’s gaze raked the photograph before the screen faded to black. The old man peered over the fence at the site of the Pink Terraces, concentrating on something in the volcanic water. He looked harmless but Hana sensed Bodie’s veiled alarm.
“What did he do differently last time?” Logan demanded.
Bodie exhaled. “Odering thinks he killed her.” Hana gasped and put her hands over her face. “She disappeared and Laval became the proud owner of everything. Her family called the cops in when he turned up with paperwork and tried to throw them off their farm.” Bodie swallowed and his gaze sought Hana’s. “I dived the Waikato for her a few months ago.”
She nodded. “I remember. You stayed with me, didn’t you? Did you know who she was?”
“No.” Bodie exhaled. “We do so many body searches a year, I stopped taking notice of personal details. Easier that way.” His wan smile hid a world of pain. “We searched major waterways over the summer and dived the Waikato, but didn’t find her.”
Hana reached for the teapot, but the hand pouring her second cup proved unsteady as she slopped brown liquid on the table. “Is Mrs Bowman in danger?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“For sure!” exclaimed Bodie and Hana winced. “I’ve passed my information onto Odering, but she’s not my problem, Mum. I asked her why he seemed so interested in you. She believes he knows you because he told her so.”
“But I don’t recognise him.” Hana ran a shaking hand over her face. “What does he want with me? He might think I’m a vulnerable widow and want to take my money.”
“No.” Logan clasped her fingers in his, engulfing her shaking digits in his hand. “It doesn’t fit. He seduces his elderly victims, Hana. You don’t
match the criteria. I can’t imagine you dazzled by a pensioner and you’re way too wary to fall for a scam.” Logan fixed his gaze on Bodie. “Sending thugs after Hana makes this very different to his usual method. I agree with you there.” His dark lashes blinked above rapid eye movements. “Hana’s got something he wants or needs. Something else.”
“The thing is,” began Hana, avoiding Logan’s gaze. She gulped. “I can’t stay away from work forever. Sheila wants me back on Monday.”
“No!” Bodie rose, even before she finished the sentence. He appealed to Logan with outstretched arms. “Absolutely not! Logan, tell her. She can’t!”
Hana hissed out an exasperated sigh. She wanted her men united, but not against her. “You’re not listening to me. I want to go back to normal. I’m fed up of this.”
Logan leaned back and closed his eyes while Bodie thumped the table in temper. “You’re not going!” He jabbed a finger into Hana’s face. “And that’s final.”
Hana’s green eyes flashed in challenge and she set her lips in a determined line. “You can’t stop me! I’m a grown woman and I’ll do what I want.”
Logan remained seated and Hana sensed the strange vibe emanating from him. His influence prickled her spine and snaked into her chest like an overwhelming force. His voice sounded soft and deceptively gentle. “You’re a married woman, Hana Du Rose and you’ll do as you’re told.”
Hana gasped in a giant inhalation of air which contained too little oxygen. She turned to face him with her fists balled at her sides and met a wall of determination. Her anger flared as Bodie heaved out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness for that!” he snapped. “Someone with sense.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Hana rounded on her son and his smugness infuriated her further. He jerked his head towards Logan.
“No, but he can.”
Hana ground her teeth in temper and a spark in her chest rebelled. She reigned in her anger for the time being, having lost the battle but not the war. Rallying statements played on a loop in her brain, fortifying her against the men and building her confidence. Foolishness switched her focus from the need to protect herself to a desire to assert her own autonomy.