call. Please ring me. Please!’
I immediately pressed the dial icon, careful not to dislodge the shattered glass. The call went straight to voicemail. Justin arrested? Fanshaw had convinced me Justin wasn’t responsible for Karen’s death; assured me his alibi had checked out — thoroughly. What the hell had happened to change the cops’ minds? An awful thought occurred to me: maybe Fanshaw told me Justin had checked out just to keep me out of their way. I blushed at the idea of it. If this was so, it was a pretty clear indication the police had lost confidence in me and I had little hope of getting any future work with them. I would have to hang up my missing persons operator boots and do something else for a living. Justin was arrested for Karen’s murder — well, it was what I had suspected. He hadn’t wanted Karen back in his daughter’s life and there was no doubt he was very protective of Sunny. I’d experienced that first hand. How he had got himself to Wellington, killed Karen and made his way back to Auckland in time to take Sunny to the wharf for the meeting puzzled me. No doubt all would become clear.
Sunny’s call had taken my mind off my own personal dilemma: was I obliged to tell Robbie about my near miss with Ned? As the taxi pulled into the curb and my house came into view, I made a decision. I was being way too serious about the whole thing. Sure, I’d tell Robbie about Ned. Why not? I’d turn it into a story, make a joke of it, cast myself as foolishly swooning for the rakish charms of a flirtatious Irishman. I’d assure Robbie nothing had happened. Because nothing had happened. Ned had held my foot, that’s all. Cupped my sorry ankle, to be precise. There was no reason at all why I should feel guilty about that. I’d done nothing wrong; in fact, I decided, as I lugged my overnight bag up the path, I’d tell Robbie about Ned straight away. Get it over with. He’d wind me up a bit, we’d have a laugh and that would be the end of it.
Robbie was drinking coffee at the kitchen table. Wolf lay across his feet. A bunch of yellow tulips wrapped in white paper lay on the bench. I stalled in the doorway, my mouth ready to deliver the silly story about me and Ned. Robbie stood, his smile already hitched. Wolf dragged himself off Robbie’s feet and arthritically clicked his way towards me. It wasn’t anything like his usual excited greeting. My mouth opened and closed. Robbie’s beautiful smile slowly unhitched. I didn’t have to tell him anything. One look at me and he knew. And just like that I realised why I had been in such a foul mood. Ned may have been the cause or the effect but, either way, my relationship with Robbie was in deep shit. It had taken me all this time to acknowledge it. Robbie knew it instantly. Into the awkward silence that lengthened between us, I garbled something about having to go straight back to Auckland, deciding on the spot it was what I needed to do.
‘There’s a problem there,’ I said, excruciatingly aware there was a problem right here, too.
‘You do what you have to do, Di,’ he said quietly, and took his cup and saucer to the bench. He placed them carefully in the sink and stayed like that, his head bowed, breathing slowly.
I felt the tears threatening. ‘I can ask Gemma to look after Wolf … if you’d rather.’
My voice seemed to waken him from his thoughts. He shrugged himself into his jacket.
‘No, it’s fine,’ he said, laying an index finger on Wolf’s nose. ‘We’re fine, eh boy?’ I watched the hairs on the top of Wolf’s head rise in response. I think mine did too. I envied the intimacy of that touch. He moved into the doorway where I was still stalled. ‘I’ll pick him up after work.’ He paused long enough to run cool fingertips gently down my face. ‘You’ll be gone,’ he said.
Wolf followed Robbie outside and stayed there watching him drive away. Okay, it’s official: I’m a shit girlfriend; a shit dog owner; a shit missing persons so-called expert; a shit everything. Shit! Wolf didn’t disagree with me one bit. Once Robbie was out of sight, he walked back inside without so much as an affectionate lean on his way