by Nalini Singh
“You didn’t agree?”
“I never forgot what my cop friend said and I always told Miriama how she should never, ever trust any man who came up to her while she was alone and away from other people.” Swallowing hard, Matilda added one final line. “And those times she ran away to Christchurch, she got scared by men who tried to take advantage of her. Grown men coming after my sweet girl.”
“She’s approachable, but she isn’t naïve about the world.”
“Yes, you see what I’m saying. Just last month, my girl was telling me that she’d be fine up in the big city, that she wouldn’t forget all the things I’d taught her about keeping herself safe.”
Will asked a question Matilda wouldn’t want to hear, but that had to be asked. “Would she be as wary if she ran into a man or woman she knew well?”
He saw the answer on Matilda’s bleak face; like most of those who lived in a small town, Miriama would’ve assumed she could separate the good from the bad—and it was unlikely she’d have even considered that one of her neighbors might do her harm. But Golden Cove wasn’t immune from the harsh reality that the perpetrators of violent person-to-person crimes were most often familiar with and to the victim.
When it came to sexual and other assault crimes against women, that percentage skewed even further. No one was more dangerous to a woman than a man who’d once professed to love her.
Will’s hand fisted, nausea churning in his stomach. Forcing it down before the bile could burn his throat, he put down the coffee mug and met Matilda’s apprehensive gaze. “Dominic told me he thinks Miriama was seeing someone from out of town before the two of them got together. Do you know who that was?”
“She was going out with someone, used to go to Christchurch to meet him”—deep grooves formed in Matilda’s forehead—“but she just used to laugh when I asked her about him. She said she’d tell me everything once she was sure he wouldn’t be breaking her heart.”
Secrets were never good. Will had learned that over and over again.
“I was happy for her.” Matilda’s lips curved before fracturing. “The way she smiled . . . I thought she’d found a man she loved so much that she didn’t want to jinx it by talking about it.” She took the coffee Will had risen and poured for her. “But then she stopped going out of town and started up with Dr. de Souza . . . I’m happy about that, too. I mean, a girl could do a lot worse than a doctor.”
Unvarnished emotion in her voice as she continued. “Just the other day, I was thinking my girl’s life was made—she’s going off to get the education she’s always deserved, and things are real serious with Dr. de Souza. I know it probably means she’ll end up living far away from here, because—young fella like him—he’s not going to want to stay out here forever, is he? And my Miri’s always wanted to fly.”
Dark eyes ragged with pain lifting up to meet Will’s. “Dr. de Souza asked me to sneak one of her cheap little dress rings to him. He wanted to make sure he got the size right.”
“He’s planning to ask Miriama to marry him?”
“I don’t know if he plans to do it before she leaves for the city or if he’s going to wait until after she comes back for her first break,” Matilda said, “but he’s mad in love with Miri.”
“You aren’t worried at how young she is to be thinking marriage?”
“Miriama’s never been young in the head or the heart.” Matilda’s face twisted, but she managed to hold back a fresh wave of tears. “Maybe because of how small she was when her world turned so ugly. When I think of her in that motel room with Kahurangi . . .” This time, she couldn’t stop the tears.
Wiping them off with the back of her hand, she took a restorative sip of coffee, then carried on. “Miri’s always liked older men. Not old enough to be her father or anything, but men who are settled in life, solid as a kauri tree against the wind. Had the worst crushes on her teachers in school, but I brought her up better than to ever do anything about it.”
Will had witnessed a much older man—midfifties or over—hit on Miriama. He’d later discovered that same man had once taught Miriama at high school. She was only nineteen and a half now. It wasn’t a stretch to think that, student or not, certain men would’ve taken advantage of her given any indication of interest.
“Other boys and men she dated,” Matilda said, “lot of them saw her as a trophy, like she was a pet, or a piece of pottery they’d bought from Sita’s fancy store. But Dr. de Souza, he loves her. I know he’ll treat her right.”
Will wondered why Dominic hadn’t mentioned his plans to propose—then again, why would the man think to do so when his girlfriend was missing? Dominic was probably praying she’d turn up alive and well so he could carry off his proposal exactly as he’d planned. “Did Miriama ever go out with anyone else in the Cove?”
“Not really.” Matilda hugged the mug with tight hands. “She’s seen how nasty it can get when people break up in a town this small. She got lucky and never had that with her first boyfriend. That was Te Ariki, Ngaio’s boy. He and Miriama were together for two years, broke it off when they were both fifteen or sixteen. No hard feelings there.”
Will knew one Te Ariki in Golden Cove. “He’s the one who goes out on the big fishing trawlers?”
Matilda nodded. “You probably know him because he tends to get carried away when he comes off the boat and home with a paycheck in his pocket.” An affectionate smile. “That’s about as bad as he gets, Will. He gives most of his pay to his mother to feed the littlies, parties hard with the rest, then goes out and works even harder. He and Miri catch up for a drink every time he’s in town.”
Will thought back to his conversation with the doctor. “Does Dominic know about their relationship?”
“Miriama invited him along the last time she met Te Ariki.” Matilda looked at Will. “I think Dr. de Souza was jealous before he saw them together, the way men are when they think an old lover is trying to horn his way back in. But there’s nothing like that with Te Ariki.”
Regardless of Matilda’s take on things, Will made a note to follow up with the fisherman. It was possible that once Te Ariki realized how serious things were between Dominic and Miriama, he’d changed his mind about what he’d given up.
“Is there anything else you can think of, Matilda? Even things that you feel uncomfortable talking about? I need to know.”
Matilda sighed. “You’re wondering about Steve, but he really couldn’t have hurt my girl—he was in the house when I got home just after six and he never left.” A worn face staring at the chipped and scratched wall across from them. “I know he looks at her in a way he shouldn’t, but Miriama’s strong. She can defend herself if he loses his mind and tries anything.”
Will found it truly difficult to understand Matilda. That she loved Miriama with every bone in her body was true. Also true was that she seemed incapable of removing the residential threat to her beloved niece.
In this case, however, Steve did appear to have an unassailable alibi. Strange blind spot or not, Matilda wouldn’t lie for Steve when Miriama was missing. “Any secrets in the past?” he asked, his brain wanting to fill out the ephemeral outline of that mysterious former lover. “Anything that could’ve come back to haunt Miriama?”
Matilda didn’t ask him why he was digging so deep for what was a missing person case that most probably involved an accident; she was the one who’d brought up the missing hikers. Some part of her knew things weren’t looking good for the girl she’d raised as her own.
“She has been a little distracted lately,” she said, “but you’d be, too, if you were moving to Wellington after growing up here. I think she’s just getting her head in order. My girl is going to make something of herself. She’s going to come home and then she’s going to fly.”
20
The last thing Will saw as he walked out of the fire station and into the cold chill of a day t
hat was now utterly devoid of sunlight was Matilda crying quietly behind hands she’d raised up to her face. He nearly went back, but something about the way she sat, her body turned so that she was no longer facing the front, told him she wouldn’t appreciate the company.
Her grief was private, her worry a lonely vigil.
And for all that Matilda was glad he was looking for her niece, Will remained an outsider. Quite unlike the dark-eyed woman who jumped out of the small black truck that had just come to a stop in front of the fire station.
Anahera wore the same knit cap he’d seen on her yesterday, a dark gray one that looked to be handmade. Below that was an olive green anorak. “Any news?” she asked as her search partner, a lanky youth who worked as a supermarket clerk alongside Matilda, came around the vehicle to join them.
Will shook his head. “You’d better mark off your search route.” Waiting until the clerk had gone to do exactly that, he lowered his tone. “I think Matilda needs a shoulder to lean on.” Steve hadn’t made an appearance so far and Will wasn’t expecting that to change. “Do you know her well enough?”
Anahera’s eyes grew darker, a storm front crossing the horizon. “She used to be friends with my mother. I’ll try, see if she’ll let me comfort her. If not, I can call Josie and track down a friend she trusts.”
Nodding, Will was about to head off to find out if Te Ariki was in town or out at sea, when Anahera stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Why aren’t you searching?” It wasn’t an accusation but a question.
“Someone has to work the other angles,” he said quietly and watched harsh comprehension dawn on her face.
Hand dropping off his forearm, she shifted both into the pockets of her anorak. “A few of the hunters brought in their dogs earlier, and Matilda was able to find some clothes Miriama had put into the laundry basket so the dogs had a fresh scent, but they all lose her partway along the coastal track.”
Will’s blood pounded in time with his pulse. “Did you search the beach and clifftop again?”
“Yes.” Anahera’s jaw worked. “Nothing, there’s nothing. It’s like she vanished into thin air.” She tore the knit cap off her head, crushed it in her hand as her hair tumbled out to fall partway down her back. “Tell me if there’s anything else I can do, anything that might help Miriama.”
Will went to say this was police business and realized very quickly that he’d be throwing away a possible resource. “You’re a local,” he said. “And because you’ve been gone for years, no one will find it suspicious if you ask certain questions. I don’t know what those questions are yet, but when I do, will you ask them for me?”
Anahera’s eyes were unreadable. “Yes. Do you really think one of us hurt Miriama?”
“Everyone has hidden corners of their life, even the people we think we know inside out.”
Breaking the eye contact, Anahera tugged her cap back on. “I’ll keep my ears open. The other search teams are going to come in soon as the rain starts—we’ve already searched every possible area we can, most of them twice. It’s getting to the point there’s nowhere left to look. Everyone will want to theorize, talk, but it’ll probably be more open if you’re not there.”
Will gave a curt nod. “I’ll come by your cabin after dark to get an update. I won’t be able to get away before then.” Not only did he have to run down what flimsy leads he had about Miriama, he’d have to begin patrols the instant the rain hit. Every so often, the teenagers got stupid; he’d once caught a bunch of them heading down to a relatively safe patch of surf—safe, that is, on a calm clear day with adults watching and ready to help.
Things usually settled down after nightfall, when the addition of pitch darkness to cold and rain made it far less attractive to sneak about and get up to mischief. “Here’s my number in case you need to touch base before then.”
Anahera took his card, slid it into a pocket. “If anyone sees you and asks me about your visit, I’ll tell them you’re hounding me because I still haven’t got myself on the right phone plan.”
“It’s not a joke.” She’d be totally isolated out there should anything happen.
Anahera raised an eyebrow. “Which is why I am with the new provider now. But it’ll make a good excuse.” With that, she turned in the direction of the fire station.
* * *
—
Anahera took a deep breath on the doorstep of the fire station, struck harder than she’d thought she would be by the sight of Matilda sitting with her face buried in her hands, the comforting bulk of her body shaking with rough sobs.
Anahera remembered running up to hug that body as a child, her face squashed into the softness of Matilda’s belly. Maybe she’d found such happiness in Matilda’s arms because her own mother had been shaped the same, with wide hips and soft curves. And maybe it was for that same reason that she’d been unable to hug Matilda ever again after the day she walked into the cabin and found Haeata’s broken body.
“Auntie,” she said, using the same respectful tone she’d always used when it came to her mother’s best friend. “It’s Ana.”
Moving a chair to face Matilda’s, she reached out to place her hand on the sobbing woman’s knee. “The whole town’s doing everything it can.” The Lees—Julia’s parents and owners of the supermarket—would soon be bringing in sandwiches for the searchers, while two grandmothers had just walked in with towels for those who might get caught in the rain. “Will is, too. I ran into Tom during the search and he said Miriama’s face is all over the news websites.”
She’d been surprised by the cop’s clear dedication—she’d expected him to be marking time, paying his dues for whatever infraction it was that had caused his superiors to bury him in the career black hole of Golden Cove. But he wasn’t only doing his job, he was picking up and looking under every possible rock.
Matilda lifted her tear-ravaged face. “Ana,” she whispered, as if becoming aware of her for the first time. “Taku kōtiro, Ana. Not so little anymore.” Her smile was more a reflex action than anything like the huge beam of warmth Anahera remembered. “You’ve been gone a long time, girlie.”
“I was in London.” Of course Matilda knew that, but staying silent didn’t seem like the right choice. “Miriama was all skinny legs and scraped knees when I left.”
The smile gained a touch more depth. “You should’ve seen her at thirteen. How that girl used to moan about how she was so skinny. Couldn’t put on weight even if she stuffed her face with doughnuts and chips.”
“It obviously worked in the end.”
A laugh that lit up Matilda’s face. “Wasn’t the junk food, eh. She gave up all that and started running—said if she looked like a runner anyway, she might as well be one.” Rubbing away her tears, she sat up, and when she next spoke, it was in Māori. “I don’t know if it was the power that came from the exercise, or if her body just kept on growing as it was always going to, but . . . You saw. My beautiful Miriama.”
“She has a glow about her.” A dazzling thing the cop clearly believed had attracted the wrong kind of attention, but it was equally obvious that Matilda didn’t want to think about that—she wanted and needed to talk about her girl, about all the wonderful things Miriama had done and would do in the future.
Anahera listened with a patience that would’ve startled her mother. The young Ana hadn’t been able to stay still; she’d wanted to achieve a million things at once, wanted to snatch at so many dreams. That innocently hopeful part of Anahera had somehow survived her father and the hellish battleground of their family home, but it hadn’t survived a cold cabin and the woman she most loved in the world lying dead on the floor.
Anahera had married Edward partly because he’d caused a tiny spark to alight inside her, as if her hope was shrugging off the frost to come out of hibernation. Then he’d snuffed out that struggling light with a betrayal she’d never seen coming.
<
br /> “The only thing I ever worry about with Miriama,” Matilda said, “is that she wants so much. Not things like jewelry or cars. No, my girl wants life. Wants to see the world, wants to go to all the places she admires in the magazines.”
“She won’t forget you,” Anahera reassured the older woman. “She’ll come back to visit.” Anahera sat there in silent testimony of her words, for Golden Cove didn’t easily let go of its own.
“Ah, Ana, you don’t understand.” Matilda shook her head. “I was always scared that a man would charm her with big promises of making her dreams come true and she’d believe him and be left broken.”
“She’s too smart for that,” Anahera said.
“Yes. And now she’s with Dr. de Souza, so I can stop worrying.” The older woman leaned forward to brush her fingers over Anahera’s cheek. “I’m sorry about your husband. I hoped for so much for you, my little Ana who flew so very far from home.”
And fell, Anahera thought. Fell and shattered while another woman wailed for the man who’d been Anahera’s husband, a man who’d promised to love her and cherish her forever, a man who’d told her they’d have a small family of their own.
So many dreams. So many promises. So many lies.
Miriama had been smarter than Anahera.
21
Will was able to cross Te Ariki’s name off his list within half an hour of leaving the fire station. The young man’s uncle confirmed Te Ariki had been out on a fishing trawler since four days earlier.
He decided to talk to Miriama’s rival for the scholarship next, wanting to clear that possibility before he moved on, but he had some trouble tracking down Kyle Baker, as Vincent’s younger brother was out with a search team. When Will did finally find him, it was on the beach. Kyle was just standing there staring out at the crashing waves.