Vincent. “Come on, I’ll pour you some coffee.” Nik had changed and so had she, but she found she was still comfortable with this angry man who’d once been a hopeful boy she’d known.
Nikau had settled down on a rickety chair he’d dragged from inside, Anahera passing him his coffee and bracing herself with her butt against the porch railing—after checking its sturdiness—when there was the sound of another car coming down the drive. “London has nothing on Golden Cove traffic.”
She’d half expected a cheerful Josie in Tom’s plumbing truck, but it was the police SUV that appeared in view a second later. The long-legged cop with the broad shoulders and the face that was too thin got out soon afterward.
“Will.” Nikau raised his coffee cup. “You come to do a welfare check on our returnee?”
“Nik. Ms. Spencer-Ashby.”
His words were a punch to the solar plexus. “Anahera is fine.” Rawiri or Spencer-Ashby, she wanted to claim neither surname. “Would you like some coffee? I think I have another mug.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass this time.” Impossible to read those eyes, that grim face. “I did want to make sure you had a way of contacting help if you need it. I know there’s no landline phone at this address.”
Anahera wasn’t certain if she was amused or not; it had been a long time since she’d answered to anyone. “I have a mobile phone, just like most of the universe.”
No change in his expression. “You mind checking the signal for me?”
“And if I do?”
No smile. “Then I guess I’ll be doing a welfare check on you every morning.”
Nikau laughed at that, but his tone was serious when he met Anahera’s eyes again. “Will’s right, Ana. You should check. This place is in the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere.”
Rolling her eyes, Anahera went inside and grabbed her phone. She brought up the home screen as she walked out… and cursed. At least the cop didn’t say “I told you so.” Instead, he said, “I suggest you move to a different provider.” He named which one. “Their signal appears to reach even the far edges of Golden Cove.”
“Upside is their plans are cheap,” Nikau said. “I can lend you my phone until you switch.”
Anahera waved aside the offer. “I’ll be fine. I have nothing to steal and we all know petty burglary is at the top of the Golden Cove crime stats.” Some folks stole out of boredom, others out of poverty.
“Crime isn’t the only threat,” the cop said. “If you have an accident, it’s possible no one will find you for days.”
Anahera could feel herself going white. Squeezing her hand around the phone, she stared at the cop. “You’ve done your job. Far as I know, cops aren’t babysitters.”
7
Will wondered what he’d said. Not only had Anahera iced up, but Nikau’s face had gone hostile between one heartbeat and the next. Mentally tracing back the conversation, he realized it had been his statement about a possible domestic accident that had done it. Obviously, he’d stepped on a nerve. That was what happened when everyone in a small town knew something but no one talked about it: hapless outsiders put their foot in it.
“You’re right,” he said mildly. “I was a terrible babysitter. Used to let my neighbors’ kids eat candy all night.” He nodded at a stony-faced Anahera, then Nikau. “Have a good day.”
He felt their eyes on him as he got into his vehicle, both dark, both impenetrable.
It was a good thing he’d never told himself that he understood Nikau; their friendship was a surface thing based on their liking for the same sport, a good run through the trees, and the odd beer. Will knew Nikau was pissed his ex had married rich-and-liked-people-to-know-it Daniel May, and that Nikau was in the Cove because of that same ex.
That was pretty much the extent of his personal knowledge of Nikau Martin.
Nik knew even less about Will.
As he backed down the drive, unable to turn with Nikau’s truck parked where it was, he was again aware of both of them watching him leave. Watching the outsider leave. He’d never had any illusions about that, either—in a place like this, a man stayed an outsider for decades, no matter how hard he tried.
Of course, Will wasn’t exactly hankering to belong anywhere.
Which made him the perfect cop to send to Golden Cove.
8
Anahera drove to the garage after breakfast, her blood still cold. Peter, unsmiling as always, and just a little strange in a