They watched the children for several long minutes.
“It wasn’t rape,” Jemima said so low it was barely audible. “It couldn’t be rape. I loved him.”
But in Jemima’s face, Anahera saw that she didn’t believe her own words. “Promise me one thing,” she said. “You’ll talk to someone about all of this once you’re safe. A therapist, a priest, someone.”
“Will you… will you stay in touch?” A hunted, flinched look.
“Try to get rid of me.” She made eye contact, held it. “Kia kaha, Jemima. You’ve survived evil that sought to crush you. You will endure.”
65
Will went straight to Dominic de Souza’s surgery after separating from Anahera. The Closed sign was on the door, but when he walked over to Dominic’s place, no one responded to his knock.
“He left a while ago,” a neighbor yelled out to Will. “Poor fella. Just walking, shoulders all hunched in.”
“Did you see which direction he went?”
It was inevitable that she’d point toward the ocean.
That was where this had begun. And that was where it would end.
Making the drive to the cliffs, Will headed down to the part of the beach where Anahera had dragged up Miriama’s body. It was now marked by flowers put there by her friends and family. The crime scene tape had been blown away that first night, but—and though both Pastor Mark and the local kaumātua had come and said a blessing over the area—nothing could erase what had taken place there.
Dominic knelt beside the flowers, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Will made no attempt to hide his footsteps. The sand absorbed all sound regardless. So he did a wide circle that would bring him within Dominic’s peripheral vision, but the doctor didn’t show any awareness of his presence.
He didn’t react even when Will sat down on the sand next to him, having already mentally patted him down—Dominic was wearing only a thin white shirt and a pair of dark brown pants that looked like they might go with a suit jacket. The wind pasted the clothing against his body with every small gust. It was obvious he had nothing hidden on him, and all he held in his hands was a bracelet.
It sparkled silver and gold and bronze in the sunlight.
“Is that Miriama’s?” Will had seen the shine of it on her wrist more than once.
Dominic gave a jerky nod before lifting the bracelet to his mouth and pressing a kiss to it while tears ravaged his face. “Her favorite,” he said. “She left it at my place the last time she stayed over.”
Dropping his hands to his thighs, the bracelet still clutched in the fingers of one hand, the young doctor stared out at the water. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. She was so alive, so vibrant. My sunshine.”
Will had situated himself so he could see Dominic’s face. Now he saw that the grief was real. “I just came from talking to Dr. Richard Symon.”
It seemed as if it was relief that swept across Dominic’s face. “Oh,” he said, staring down at the bracelet again. “I knew someone would, eventually.”
“We all just assumed you were Miriama’s doctor,” Will said. “Small town and all that.”
“I could’ve had my registration yanked if someone had wanted to make trouble and say that I’d seduced a patient.” Dominic swallowed hard. “She never had reason to come to the clinic after I took over from Dr. Wong. Once we got together and I figured out she was on the clinic roll, I referred her to Dr. Symon. Keep all the ethical lines clear, you know.”
Will nodded. “It was a good thing you did,” he said. “You should’ve left it at that.”
Another burst of sobs, Dominic’s face breaking apart in front of Will. Falling back to sit on the sand with his knees raised, he banged his head against the bracelet. “I just got so worried,” he said after a long time, his voice raw. “She was going to see the doctor more times than she should. When I asked her, she’d say, ‘Kāore he raru. Don’t worry, lover.’ She was just feeling a little off, and wanted to check her iron levels since she used to have low iron as a girl.”
Raising his head, the other man stared out at the water again. “I didn’t quite believe her, but I let it go. I thought it might be something a woman would consider embarrassing—it’s funny how people can be, even with a doctor. I never wanted her to feel that way with