A Madness of Sunshine

by Singh, Nalini

  “Do you have enough biological material to do a paternity test?”

  “If you bring me a sample from the probable father or fathers, I can try to get the testing done for you. But, no guarantees.”

  Leaning back, Will did the math. Three months. That put Miriama’s pregnancy right on the borderline. He’d check her journal, confirm the exact date she’d broken it off with Vincent, then line it up with when she and Dominic had first been ­intimate—­not a conversation he was looking forward to having.

  It was possible Miriama had had another lover in between the two men with whom she’d had a relationship, but Will had to start with the known potentials. As it stood, her pregnancy gave both men a powerful motive.

  Vincent had vowed his love for Miriama, but when push came to shove, he’d chosen ambition. Miriama getting pregnant would’ve ruined the ­picture-­perfect life he’d spent years creating, all of it aimed toward one goal. Especially if she’d refused to get rid of the baby.

  If, on the other hand, it had been Dominic’s baby, the young doctor would’ve had no reason to be angry at Miriama. A little shocked, yes, but in the end, the child would’ve tied him and Miriama even closer together. And, according to her journal, he’d already shown a willingness to be a father.

  But what if it hadn’t been Dominic’s baby?

  Will had no easy ­answers—­because Miriama had written nothing about the baby in her journal. Not even in relation to how the pregnancy might affect her internship. Either she hadn’t ­known… or that was the secret she’d obliquely mentioned at one point: I’ve become so good at keeping secrets. Until I can’t even write some things here, in a place no one else will ever look.

  He got to his feet. “Thank you. I need to talk to some people, get those samples for you.” It was as he was putting his jacket back on that he felt the evidence bag inside. “I bagged her hairbrush for you.” It didn’t matter if everyone knew this was Miriama, they had to have official confirmation. Given the condition of the body, that meant DNA testing.

  Ankita accepted the package, then walked him out to the car park.

  As they stood in the dark lit by yellow lamps blurred by the ­now-­misty rain, she looked up at him. “I can’t officially make the accident or homicide call, but I trust your instincts. I hope you find the bastard who did this to ­her—­all that potential, all that life just snuffed out. No one has the right to do that.”

  “I’ll call you if anything breaks,” he said, keeping a tight lid on his own anger. “Her aunt will be here soon.” He knew that without having to check. “Will you make sure Miriama isn’t alone until then?”

  Ankita nodded. “I expected as much. She doesn’t need to see the body, Will.” Tired, empathic eyes. “I’ll speak with her, find a less traumatic way she can say ­good-­bye.”

  “Thanks, Ankita.” Getting into his car after a final handshake, he watched Ankita return inside, then picked up his phone to call Anahera. “How are things?”

  He could hear noises in the background, the sounds of people talking. It was no surprise when she said, “Town’s gathered in the firehouse. Matilda wanted people to talk about Miriama, celebrate her life. She gave me permission to share the news and told me to ask that everyone get together.” She took a breath. “Liaison officer got us clearance to do a karakia on the beach where I pulled her out of the water. Matilda left soon after.”

  Prayer, Will knew, was important to Matilda. Being able to offer one at the site would’ve given her a small outlet for her grief. “Who’s with her?”

  “A group of her closest friends. I’m handling the ­gathering—­after, I’m going over to Josie’s.”

  Will started up his engine. “I’m on my way back. If things break up before I get there, make sure you have an escort back to Josie’­s—­Matthew, the Lees, the Duncans, none of their names have come up in the investigation.” He hesitated before saying, “Don’t get into Tom’s van.”

  A sucked-­in breath on the other end. “You can’t just drop that bomb on me and not say anything else.”

  “I found out something in his past that worries me, but right now, he’s not any higher on the list than anyone else. Avoid Peter Jacobs, too.” The mechanic might have an alibi for Miriama’s death, but the skeletal remains were another ­matter—­and Will hadn’t forgotten how Peter’s name had come up in an American rape investigation.

  “Is Josie in danger?” Anahera demanded. “Her son?”

  “No.” Anahera’s best friend fell outside the profile. “I’m being cautious, Ana. If I’m wrong, Josie never has to know anything.”

  “Fine,” Anahera said at last, her tone clipped. “I wonder if I’ll trust anyone by the time this is over.”

  Staring out at the bleak scene outside, Will thought of broken bones and missing flesh and a woman who’d never smile again. “Don’t go to the cabin.”

  “No need for orders, cop. I’ve got no intention of ending up another victim.”

  Though she didn’t ask him about Miriama, he could feel the questions on her lips. And he knew he’d probably break confidentiality and share what he’d learned. He could tell himself it was for a practical ­purpose—­because while he remained an outsider to many, Anahera was a local. People who wouldn’t necessarily talk to him with total frankness would talk to her.

  But the truth was that he talked to her because he wanted to talk to her, wanted to get her input. A dangerous thing to think for a man who’d so long preferred distance from ­life—­especially about a woman so emotionally entwined with multiple suspects on his list. “We’ll talk when I get home.”

  Her voice remained curt when she answered. “Drive safe.”

  Hanging up, Will headed out. As he drove, he put aside Tom Taufa and Peter Jacobs, and considered two other men. Men who’d loved the same woman.

  And he considered the puppy whose head had been bashed in with a rock.

  55

  Anahera had stayed by Matilda’s side until the ­karakia—­at that point, she’d been shooed away by an older woman who’d traveled from some distance outside town. That woman, like the other friends who’d gone with Matilda, had seen Miriama grow up, had helped mother the child she’d been, and now they would mourn with Matilda.

  Eyelids swollen and nose red, new lines etched permanently into her face, Matilda had said, “I see her every time I close my eyes.” A hoarse whisper, her throat ragged from crying. “My pretty, kind Miriama with so much aroha in her heart.”

  Twenty minutes later, when Matilda’s friend and her husband began to lead Matilda out to their car, which would follow the liaison officer’s vehicle, Matilda had looked back at Anahera. “Will you be all right, Ana?”

  Humbled by the generosity of this woman who had suffered the loss of a cherished child, Anahera had nodded and told Matilda her intention to overnight at Josie’s.

  Now, as the last of the gathered began to leave, she saw that Tom had already gone home. Relief was a weight off her shoulders. At least she didn’t have to come up with some excuse to not go with him.

  Her stomach ached with the ugliness of feeling any kind of suspicion toward Josie’s husband. But there was no reason to believe she’d be in any danger in the family ­home—­and she could get a firsthand look at Josie and Tom together.

  “Do you need a ride, Ana, dear?” asked a subdued Evelyn Triskell, her hands on the handles of her husband’s wheelchair.

  “I’m okay, thank you,” she said. “Nikau brought his ­truck—­I’ll catch a ride with him.” She didn’t have her Jeep because Raewyn had driven them to the beach, then to the fire station.

  As the Triskells nodded and continued on to their car, Anahera decided she’d organize better security for the cabin tomorrow so that she could return home. She wasn’t planning to be stupid, but neither did she intend to let fear drive her decisions. “Nik?” she said, walking over to him. “Can you run me over to Josie’s?” Her best friend hadn’t attended the gathering, too far along
in her pregnancy to be around this much stress and pain. Anahera would’ve sent her home if she had turned up.

  Nikau, still sporting a heavy five-­o’clock shadow that was turning into a beard, nodded. It wasn’t until they were in his truck that he said, “When’s your cop getting back?”

  Anahera shot him a hard look. “What the hell is up with you?” It wasn’t the first edgy comment he’d made about her and Will tonight. “I know you’re not jealous.”

  He didn’t speak again the entire drive, finally bringing his truck to a stop in front of Tom and Josie’s place. Sitting in the vehicle with him, his mood dark and turbulent, Anahera realized she might’ve made a stupid mistake after all. Because this Nikau wasn’t the man she’d once known, was angry inside in a way that verged on frightening. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine him taking out his anger on a vulnerable woman. Punishing her in place ­of—­

  Oh, God.

  She, Josie, Matilda, they’d all made a mistake: Anahera wasn’t the only person in town who fit the summer killer’s preference. Keira had been dyeing her hair to a light brown shade with blonde streaks since she turned eighteen, and often wore gray or green contacts. Strip away the artifice, however, and she was brown eyed, black haired, with skin and bone structure like Anahera’s.

  Her mouth went dry.

  “It’s got nothing to do with you, or with Will,” Nikau said suddenly. “I’m just being a bastard because Keira is pregnant.” He spit out the last word. “She’s going to have that asshole’s baby.”

  “Who told you?”

  She expected to hear that it had been a gloating Daniel.

  “Keira.” His pain was too big for the truck, a suffocating pressure. “She came to see me, told me she didn’t want this kind of anger between us during her pregnancy. Asked me to chill it. Said we should be friends.”

  Focused on survival, Anahera didn’t say what she thought. At least not until she’d undone her seat belt and pushed open the door. “Look,” she said, “it’s not good for you to be around her all the time.” Stepping out, she shut the door, but leaned down to speak through the open window. “Get out of this town and move on, explore the world through your career. You’re a great guy, Nik. So many women would be happy to be with you.”

  Nikau shot her a look of anger so cold that she moved away from the window. “I can get her to love me again.”

  Anahera decided to keep her mouth shut on any further comments. If Nikau was a monster under the skin, then she might inadvertently put Keira in the crosshairs. Saying a quick thanks for the ride instead, she began to walk up Josie’s drive.

  Nikau’s truck didn’t move.

  One second, two, ­three—­

  Josie opened the door, her pregnant form silhouetted in the light behind her, and Anahera finally heard Nikau’s truck revving off and away, taking with it a friend who’d turned into a stranger.

  56

  Darkness shrouded the road into Golden Cove, the trees seeming to lean in to embrace the night. The twin beams of Will’s headlights were the only points of brightness in the ­pitch-­black landscape. Take away the road markings, cut off access to the outside world, and the land would swallow you up until nothing remained.

  Or until only bones remained.

  Robert had called him an hour earlier to say he was attempting to get new copies of the dental and medical records of the missing hikers; the ones in the original case files were no longer in the best condition. “Speed things up for the forensic anthropologist,” the other detective had said. “Everyone should have a name.”

  Yes. No one should be buried in a grave without a name.

  Will’s eyes skimmed the glowing digits of the dashboard clock. It was well past eleven at night. He should let Anahera rest. But, after all the death today, and even if she was angry with him for doubting Tom’s family man persona, he had a craving inside him to see her alive and vibrant.

  The supermarket’s great big corporate symbol blazed against the night, but, as always at this time, the store was ­shut—­along with nearly all the other businesses in Golden Cove. Only the pub remained open, patrons and staff moving beyond the ­street-­facing windows.

  He was about to bring the SUV to a halt by the police station so he could call Anahera, when he saw a hint of something on the horizon that captured his attention. It twisted like fog against the bluish black of the night sky, but that made no sense. There was no sign of fog anywhere in the vicinity and what he’d seen was rising too fast.

  Smoke.

  Will stepped out of his vehicle into the cold, the wet tarmac gleaming in the beams of his headlights, but the sky was clear of rain. He didn’t smell any hint of fire on the air currents, but he had not a single doubt that was smoke on the horizon.

  And it was drifting in from the beach end of town.

  Normally, that would’ve made it less of a threat. Especially with the weather having been so damp. Things were too wet for the vegetation to catch fire. But not only was that smoke too strong, too high, it was coming from the direction of Anahera’s cabin.

  Getting back into his vehicle, he drove screamingly fast to the firehouse, then jumped out and used his emergency key to get into the building. Golden Cove had too small a population to have volunteer firefighters standing by, so the town had come up with another system.

  A second after he entered the firehouse, he pushed the button that set off a piercing siren, then used his authorization to send an emergency message to the pagers worn by all the volunteers. He relocked the door to protect the gear inside, as the trained volunteers all had keys, and was back in his SUV before anyone responded.

  He knew it wouldn’t be long. The brigade’s total response time was a matter of ­minutes—­Will had been their timekeeper during the last test.

  Activating his vehicle’s ­hands-­free system as he drove toward Anahera’s cabin, he made a direct call to the leader of the volunteer firefighters. “It’s Will,” he said. “I’m pretty sure Anahera’s cabin is on fire. I’m heading in that direction to confirm.”

  The other man didn’t waste time on unimportant questions. “I’ve just reached the firehouse. You want us to wait or do you want us to head out straightaway?”

  Will could see even more smoke now. It speared out through the darkness, thick columns of gray smudging the night. “Get your people to the location as fast as possible.”

  He screeched into Anahera’s drive.

  The red glow of flames crackled hot against the shadowy backdrop of trees, and a second after he braked to a shuddering stop off the gravel path so that the firefighters could come through, the roof collapsed in a shower of embers.

  Stepping out, he braced himself. The heat pulsed against his face, the smoke coating his nostrils, his throat, sinking into his clothing. It was a nightmare come to life, one that threatened to suck him into the abyss, but Will wasn’t fucking done yet. If Anahera was in that house, he’d damn well get her out.

  No matter what the price.

  Grabbing his phone, he called her.

  It rang and rang and ­rang—­“Will?”

  He staggered against the driver’s-­side door of the SUV just as the fire appliance turned into the drive, its siren going full blast. “You’re all right!” he yelled, barely able to hear himself. “Is there a reason anyone else would’ve been in your cabin today?”

  “No, I locked up when I left,” she said. “Are you at the fire? Tom left ­to—­oh, my God, is it my cabin?”

  “I’m sorry, Anahera.”

  But she’d already hung up, and he knew she was on her way. A number of others arrived before her, probably the folks who’d been in the pub, or who lived closest to the center of town. But they let Anahera pass to the front, their faces soft with pity and sorrow except for two drunks who stared at the flames, their eyes reflecting the greedy ­yellow-­red tongues.

  Anahera said nothing when she reached Will; the two of them stood a third of the way down the drive while the firefi
ghters worked to control the blaze. Will caught the locked tension of her muscles, but he also saw the shimmer of water in her eyes. And he remembered that this had been her mother’s home. It was the safe haven Anahera had come to, to lick her own wounds and attempt to heal.

  He didn’t have any words to comfort her, so he just put his arm around her and tugged her against his body. She resisted, her hands fisted and her jaw a brutal line. “There was no gas inside,” she said. “My tank ran out last night just as I finished reheating the stew and I haven’t had a chance to return the empty and pick up a new one. And you saw me turn the electricity off at the mains.”

  “Yes.” She’d opened up the box mounted to one side of the porch right before they left for Matilda’s what felt like a lifetime ago.

  “My mother taught me to do that if I might be away overnight because the cabin was all the way out here by itself. She worried about shorts in the wiring.”

  Will heard the firefighters shout to each other, their faces glowing with sweat. “I don’t think this was an accident,” he said. “It’s too much of a coincidence with everything else that’s going on.”

  A massive crackle as a wall collapsed inward.

  “Did you have a run-­in with anyone tonight?”

  A short pause before she shook her head. “No.”

  “You can’t protect your friends now.”

  “Nikau was acting off, but that’s because he just heard Keira is pregnant.” She blew out a breath. “She looks like me. Under the dyed hair and the colored contacts.”

  Will thought of Nikau’s alibi for the time of Miriama’s disappearance, and then he thought about the three hikers and how Anahera’s picture would fit right in. “I’ll find out where he was earlier tonight.” The fire could’ve been set an hour or more ago, a small flame left to slowly creep across the cabin.

  “There’s something else.” Anahera glanced at him before returning her gaze to her cabin. “It’s all over town that you spent the night here. And it’s far easier to get to my place than it is to yours.”