Deleilah

by Bowes, K T

  “But you’re fine?” Seline sounded doubtful. “You sound ok.”

  “I am ok,” Leilah lied. “Just sorting a few things out and then I’ll go back to the apartment. I’ll call you from there.”

  “No, I want to be able to call you when I want to.” Seline’s voice contained an edge of pleading. “Dad’s not himself and I can’t cope. He tells me to go and then calls me back. I come back and he acts mean and then says he’s sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Make your own decisions, baby,” Leilah said, her tone sad. “I can’t tell you what to do. I’ll see if there’s a shop in town and buy a different sim card. I’ll text you the number when I get it.”

  “Thanks, Mum. Are you having a great time away?”

  Leilah glanced back at the police car parked centimetres away from the ute’s bumper and the ding in the side mirror from the wrecked mailbox. “Awesome,” she lied. “It’s exactly what I needed.”

  “Can I get you on this number if I need you?” Seline asked.

  Leilah swallowed. “Sure, baby. Call any time you like, especially if it’s in the middle of the night.”

  “What? Really?”

  “Yeah, baby. Anytime. I love you sweetie. I’ll sort out that sim card as soon as I can.”

  Leilah disconnected and handed the phone back to Tane. He shook his head and grinned. “Anytime, hey?”

  Leilah shrugged, overcome by the weight of her own selfishness. “It won’t happen.” She swallowed. “I’ll sort out another provider this afternoon and text her the number.”

  Tane stood up straight and nodded. “What are you scared of, Lei? Me?”

  Leilah shook her head and then allowed honesty to turn it into a nod. “All men really. Sorry.”

  Tane tutted and closed the distance between them, wrapping Leilah in a veil of security with his strong arms. “You’ll always be safe here, mate. Nobody round here’s gonna hurt ya. I won’t let them.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, running his thumb along the line of her jaw. “Come home with me for dinner and meet my family. I’d like you to see them before you shoot through again.”

  Leilah pursed her lips and nodded. “Ok. Tori said you were raising a football team.” Her eyes strayed to Vaughan’s house and she closed her eyes. “First I have to confess to the broken letter box and the fact he’s harbouring a fugitive.”

  Chapter 21

  Conflict

  “Did you tell Vaughan where you were going?” Tane drove with his elbow resting on the windowsill, the wind blowing his hair back from his face.

  Leilah nodded. “Yeah.” She frowned at the memory of Vaughan leaving the lounge as Tane entered it, but suspected it was embarrassment which ate at him and not anger at the sight of their old friend in Leilah’s company.

  “What did he say?” Tane eyed her sideways, nervousness making him chew his bottom lip.

  “Nothing,” Leilah lied. “I don’t think he cares much. I’ll move on in a few days and probably never see him again.”

  “Yeah. He’ll be waiting for that.”

  Leilah sidestepped the reprimand and watched Vaughan’s house fade into the distance on her right. She ignored the other structure on the hill, choosing not to look at the pale blue weatherboard house which towered over the younger, identical sibling.

  Tane reached for her fingers as Leilah wrung them in the lap of her floral print dress. He held onto her hand, exuding concern and fellowship. “It’s ok to be sad, Lei. It must be hard coming home after all this time. The new folk did nothing with the house; it’s pretty much as Hector left it. They carried on the share-milking scheme he started for a while but the other couple got fed up of doing all the work and bailed out. Shame really because it was a neat little business. Various other people tried to work with them but it never lasted. The old guy sold all the stock to local people and let the place decay. His wife died of a brain tumour and that was it. He lived up there and never came to town. Nobody noticed when he died so no one noticed his body for a few days.”

  Leilah linked her fingers through Tane’s, keeping a tight hold even though she knew he needed to change gear. A childish devilment rose up in her around him, as though they were both children again. It served as a distraction, staving off the pain she felt at the sightless gaze of the windows in the foothills of the mountain.

  The moment passed and Leilah relaxed. “Tori said he couldn’t have shot himself.”

  Tane shrugged. “Coroner said not. We investigated for weeks but nothing surfaced. He ruled death by misadventure and the case is still open.”

  “Did you check all the unhappy share milkers?” Leilah asked, staring through the windscreen until the old house became a tiny dot on the landscape, not able to rile her with its memories for a while.

  “Wanna do my job, Lei?” Tane smiled and pushed his hair off his face.

  “Yeah, ok.” Leilah’s eyes sparkled with mischief and Tane laughed.

  “You’d have made a great cop. Constable Relentless we’d have called you.”

  “Still might,” Leilah joked. “So, who’s in the frame for the murder mystery?”

  Tane laughed at her spooky voice but his face became serious. “Vaughan was questioned.”

  “Vaughan?” Leilah’s head whipped round. “Why? Vaughan wouldn’t kill someone, not like that anyway. He’s the bash-their-brains-out-and-ask-questions-later kinda dude, not the sort to stick someone’s gun in their mouth and pull the trigger.”

  “How’d you know it was their gun?” Tane asked. “There’s your first wrong assumption.”

  “Well, it wasn’t Vaughan’s!” Leilah scoffed. “He detests guns. I don’t think he ever said why, but he won’t touch them.”

  “Clever girl,” Tane said, winking at her. “And that’s why we let him go. Remember those weird wounds on his side when we were kids? His step-dad aimed a shot gun at him when he was seven and that’s why his mother sent him to Horse. The hospital removed the pellets and the cops interviewed Gilroy but he and Harvey managed to make it sound like an accident. It’s still on record and Vaughan doesn’t touch guns.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Leilah’s eyes widened to accentuate the horror on her face. Down-turned lips and a wrinkled nose finished the effect. “That’s hideous.”

  Tane laughed. “Only you use words like that, Lei. Please don’t tell him I told you. He hasn’t spoken to me ever since I let him out of the cell.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Leilah sighed. “So, you think someone tried to make the shooting of Mr Baxter look like suicide?”

  “Someone didn’t like him for sure.” Tane tapped a beat on the window sill with his long fingers. “But the killer didn’t do a great job of making it look like a well-planned suicide and people don’t tend to get so desperate that they walk to the mail box with a gun and think, ‘Screw this, I’m gonna shoot myself in the head.’ The gun lay on the ground next to what was left of his face but they’d jammed his fingers on the gun as though he’d fired. His index finger stayed on the trigger and the coroner said it wasn’t a likely scenario. Whoever killed him panicked and staged the scene after his death.”

  “What makes you think they panicked?”

  “The clumsiness of it all. Old man Baxter’s doctor said he developed arthritis in the last five years and couldn’t use his right hand. He’d taken to shooting with his left before he stopped altogether. Yet the finger around the trigger was his right index and rigor mortis had fixed it in place. Towns folk knew he used to shoot possum, but hadn’t done it for ages. He’d got too frail. Why would he be out in the lower paddocks armed? Instinct tells me someone arrived who he didn’t want to see and he went out to meet them carrying the gun. And then there’s the length of his arms in comparison to that of the gun barrel. It wouldn’t be physically possible for someone as bent by arthritis as him to stretch their arm and stick the barrel in their mouth at the same time as...”

  Leilah shuddered and raised her hand. “Don’t say
anymore or I won’t be able to eat dinner.” She glanced across at her friend, brow furrowed in thought. “What made you become a cop? You seemed more interested in running a dairy farm.”

  “Yeah, I was. Dad always wanted to see me in uniform and it made me rebel. When he retired, I realised I’d held out for all the wrong reasons. I joined up telling no one because I didn’t need the pressure if it wasn’t for me.”

  “But it was?” Leilah searched his face for truth.

  “I mailed an invitation to my graduation parade and it was the first time I ever saw my hard-faced father cry. It was what I needed to see and I decided to make a go of it.”

  “Did you come straight back here?”

  Tane shook his head. “Na. I did my probation in Auckland and then transferred to Hamilton. I only accepted the vacancy here when Dad’s replacement moved on and I’ve been the sergeant here for twelve years.”

  “How did you meet your wife?” Leilah asked, interested.

  Tane knitted his eyebrows into a long, dark line and stared at her in confusion. “I always knew her, Lei.”

  Leilah shrugged, distracted by the town sign approaching. Tane curbed his speed and steered for his house on the outskirts, near the police station. Leilah’s nerves beat a hefty beat which sounded in her brain, numbing her senses with fear. Tane bumped the car onto a driveway, the adjoining grass littered with children’s toys and associated debris. A Popsicle wrapper danced around an oak tree in the centre of the garden, whipped up by the town’s relentless breeze. The deep seated terror radiated out of Leilah as a pink flush on her cheeks and she grabbed Tane’s hand as he secured the vehicle in place with the hand brake. “I can’t do this!” she said, her voice emerging in a rush.

  “Do what?” Tane’s confusion knitted his brows and he put his other hand over Leilah’s. “You don’t have to do anything. It’ll be ok. You’ll love my kids.”

  “But will they love me?” Leilah asked, her voice a strangled squeak.

  “Of course they will! Silly girl!” Tane patted her hand and smiled at Leilah with fondness. “It’s sweet how much it matters.”

  “It does.” Leilah felt her chest hitch. “It really does.” She glanced across to the porch and saw a woman waiting there, watching as Tane pressed his lips against a stranger’s head. The woman scowled and Leilah’s heart sank into her boots.

  Chapter 22

  A Fattened Calf and Hatred With It

  The eldest of Tane’s children was a girl. Red-haired and green eyed she looked nothing like her father but Leilah saw his seriousness in her eyes as she studied the newcomer from the safety of the porch. The other two children were boys; loud and bumptious. The smallest one demanded attention with his antics, hopping onto a tricycle which he rode down the front steps and catapulted off into a prickly bush. Loud tears and a tantrum galvanised Tane’s wife, who skipped down the steps wiping her hands on a tea towel and hid her embarrassment behind hissed admonitions.

  Leilah looked away and left the woman to her comforting, remembering the awkwardness of childish tantrums in public. The middle child watched the intrigue play out before him with an impassiveness older than his years. A mop of dark waves covered his head and the likeness to Tane was unmistakable. Aged around five, he studied Leilah with unveiled interest and in his hands, a soft toy twisted over and over with relentless regularity. His smile looked shy and considered and when his lips parted, it was as though the sun shone and Leilah couldn’t resist the attractive sparkle in his eyes; all Tane.

  She gave him a small wave and his eyes lit up with instant adoration. Leilah took a few steps towards him and the boy held out the tatty toy. “Here ya go.” He looked pleased with the decision and she took it with reverence through the porch railings. It felt familiar in her fingers and her heart gave a jolt of recognition and dismay.

  “Rabbit?”

  The boy shook his head. “No Name, coz he don’t have a name. But sometimes, I call him Don’t Pull His Ears because my brother pulls his ears.” The child smiled again and Leilah smothered the ready sob in her throat. Her childhood toy felt like an old friend in her hands, left behind as she packed in haste for her new life twenty years earlier. Life hadn’t been kind to him and the furry body sported stains and rips which beggared description.

  “I think he likes you best.”

  Leilah gathered her wits around her and handed back the toy. The boy took it and tottered down the front steps, offering solidarity. She took it, a fragile life raft in a sea of turbulent emotion, her fingers shaking as she gripped the tiny, soft childish hand.

  “I had one just like it,” she said and the child nodded.

  “It’s Dad’s. He lets me cuddle it. He says it’s Lei’s, but it’s mine now.”

  Leilah glanced towards Tane as he locked the vehicle but he refused to meet her gaze. He bent and scooped up the squawking child on the grass who kicked in protest as his father hoisted him high. The fake tanty disappeared in a hail of giggles as Tane threw the child over his shoulder. “Inside,” he said. “Mum’s got dinner ready.”

  Leilah turned to face Tane’s wife and the blonde hair and sparkling green eyes stopped her in her tracks as she clutched the boy’s hand with something akin to fear. A look at Tane showed no signs he’d interpreted her distress and she focussed on climbing the stairs. “Hello, Deleilah,” the woman said, victory in her face. “You don’t look the same as you did on the TV.”

  Leilah swallowed. “I don’t feel like the same person,” she replied, teasing the rabbit’s ears between her fingers. The small boy pulled it behind his back.

  “No, don’t pull his ears,” he said with indignation and Leilah muttered a sorry. She’d fondled the long, spindly ears from the age of four when Hector gave her the toy after a trip to Auckland to visit Derek and she regretted abandoning it when life became fraught with complication.

  “If I’d had more time,” she said and shook her head as the child stared at her with curiosity.

  “For what?” he asked, Tane’s perception passed down through his genes. “What would you have done?”

  “Not left something behind,” Leilah answered.

  The boy nodded. “Losing stuff sucks.”

  “Yeah,” Leilah agreed. “It does.”

  “What’s for dinner, Miriama?” Tane asked and Leilah jumped.

  “Something hot and filling,” the woman bit. She fixed her gaze on Leilah. “Not what you’re used to in Auckland though. I hope it’ll be good enough for you.”

  Leilah worked on her smile and nodded. “It will be.”

  “I’m Nathan,” the child said, keeping hold of her hand and insisting she sit next to him at the table.

  “I always loved this house,” Leilah said as Miriama put bowls of salad and vegetables on the dining table. Her host added cuts of steak and sausages reclaimed from a barbeque somewhere out back. “I remember your father sitting in that chair after work in his police uniform.” Her lips quirked as she jerked her head towards a high-backed seat in the corner of the dining room. “You used to creep in late, convinced you wouldn’t get caught and you always did. He sat there waiting for you.” Leilah smirked and saw the memory reflected in Tane’s face.

  “Yeah, and he always gave me the belt,” he replied.

  “What? Hit you?” The middle child looked horror struck and Tane nodded at him.

  “Yep. Good and hard. It wasn’t illegal then and it didn’t do me any harm either.”

  “That’s barbaric.” The girl turned cool eyes towards Leilah and pushed the plate of meat in her direction. “Guests first.”

  Leilah’s hand shook as she chose her food, staying away from the meat items and sticking to salad in the hope she could stomach the bitterness oozing from Miriama.

  “Do you still have your motorbike?” Leilah asked, desperate to find a safe subject to chat about.

  Tane nodded. “Yeah. Dante sometimes borrows it when he’s here. I don’t get out on it much.” He eyed his wife who rolled her eye
s and Leilah realised she’d found yet another landmine to dance around.

  “Motorbikes aren’t safe,” Miriama stated, stabbing a sausage as though wishing it was Leilah’s heart.

  “Please may you cut my meat for me?” Nathan asked and Leilah nodded with relief, slicing the tender flesh into bite-sized pieces and using the distraction to ignore his mother’s spiteful gaze. Jealousy throbbed across the table from the other woman and Leilah squirmed in discomfort until the lettuce leaves stuck in her throat and she coughed. Nathan tried to push a glass of water towards her and it caught on the tablecloth and toppled.

  “No matter!” Leilah exclaimed at his dread reaction and leapt up, slapping her serviette over the growing stain with quick fire reactions and glancing straight at Tane. “My fault!” She raised her voice as though to cover the childish accident and her perceptive friend’s eyes widened in recognition of Leilah’s vulnerability. Pity flashed in his eyes and struck at something deep in her soul.

  “It’s just water, son.” Tane ruffled Nathan’s hair as the youngest son giggled like a maniac, enjoying his brother’s error. A stern look from his father ended the tiny sense of victory like the slamming of a door.

  “Please could you tell me where the bathroom is?” Leilah’s hand shook as she stood and scraped her chair back against the floorboards, her body rigid like a plank of wood.

  “I’ll show you.” Miriama stood and Leilah’s heart sank further. The small mishap would walk her into a trap. She followed Miriama’s swishing skirt down the long hallway and her host halted outside a wooden door which was open. Leilah stared at the bathroom with longing, needing to be alone to collect herself. Her fingers trembled on the door knob, craving isolation in which to banish the demons left over from her husband’s terrifying menace when drunk in the later years, but Miriama blocked her goal causing a frisson of anger to spark in Leilah’s chest.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she promised, stepping into the bathroom. Miriama followed her in and closed the door.