“I didn’t say I would.” Another smile, as if they were talking about the weather or old memories. “I’m just saying it would make more sense. Jemima’s the trap, while Miriama was my freedom. With her, I could be the man I would’ve been if my parents hadn’t decided to mold me into their image of a perfect son. If only Miriama had been patient a little longer, I would’ve made it happen.”
With every breath she took, she inhaled the memory of fire until it seemed to be in her hair, her skin, her mouth. And she remembered another fire. The one that had ended with two dead people and Vincent finally free of his parents. “Were you thinking of divorcing Jemima and marrying Miriama?” she asked, playing along with his delusion that he’d been willing to walk away from his perfect life for a girl with the wrong pedigree to fit that illusion.
“I already bought the ring,” he said in a voice so soft it was nearly snatched away by the quiet wind. “I just wanted her to wait until my kids were a little more grown, but she couldn’t. And now she’s dead.”
Anahera’s heart began to thump, her skin burning from the inside out. Maybe it was grief causing the flat patches in Vincent’s delivery—or maybe it was a cold kind of calculation. All the smiles, all the sadness, what was real and what wasn’t? What kind of a man could talk so unemotionally about murdering his own wife?
“Jemima told me you came to see her,” he said without warning. “She’s very happy to have made a friend in town.”
Oh, Jemima. Controlling men like Vincent didn’t like for their wives to have friends. “I understand what it feels like coming into a tight-knit community,” she said, trying to make light of the situation. “It was the same for me when I moved to London. All the people I met were friends with Edward. It was hard to make friendships of my own.”
Vincent’s intense expression gentled. “You two don’t actually have that much in common.”
“I know.” She said what he wanted her to say, what he needed her to say—alone on a windswept cliff was not the time to antagonize a man who spoke with easy casualness about ending his wife’s life. “I don’t expect us to become best friends. But I’m still enough of the Golden Cove girl to not want a visitor to feel unwelcome.”
He chuckled. “Jemima would’ve had an easier time of it in South Africa, but she didn’t have the head to go into the family business. Being my wife, looking after my children with the nanny’s help, looking good for photos, that’s more her strength. She’d last about two minutes in the real world.”
Anahera stared at his profile as he turned to look at the ocean; he wasn’t even attempting to be subtle. Or was he so used to putting Jemima down that this was his normal, and Anahera had just never spoken to him long enough on this subject to see it?
There was another, more dangerous option: Vincent didn’t care about showing her his true face because he didn’t expect her to have a chance to tell anyone about it.
“Will you be happy together now, do you think?” She kept her tone friendly with furious effort of will. “Can you get past your feelings for Miriama?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Vincent’s tone changed, became almost confessional. “Miriama made me happy inside from the instant I saw her as a woman, but I’ve always had something else that never fails to give me joy. I’ve decided to go back to that old hobby.”
Anahera took a step backward, her body poised to run… But she was too late. The Taser was in Vincent’s hand well before she was out of range. “It’s so hard to get an unregistered gun in this country,” he said. “Especially when you have a profile and people want to hold things over you. Even getting this was a bit of a mission—but it’s worked out the better choice for my needs.”
Anahera held up her hands. “What are you doing?” She thought of the phone she had tucked in her back pocket, knew there was no way she could make the call before being hit and disabled.
“Haven’t you figured it out, sweet little Ana?” The same angelic smile he’d given her so many times across the years. “Slim, dark haired, dark eyed, vibrant with life—my father kept her