looking down at the beach. “I’m making sure no one else is still on the beach.”
Anahera hadn’t thought to do that—she just expected the locals to not be stupid. But she should’ve remembered that people were people and emotions were running high. Joining him, she looked out for any other sources of light, but all the ones she spotted were of searchers climbing back up from the beach. “I don’t see anything,” she said. “You?”
He turned off his flashlight, then did a second careful scan. “No,” he said, switching his flashlight back on before he turned cliffward again. “Let’s keep going. I need to get a report from Matilda, see what areas have already been covered and what hasn’t. The beach searchers can be reassigned.”
Anahera moved quickly up the path, aware of the cop keeping up with her, his breathing even and his stride steady. Not a total townie, she thought with a corner of her mind. He’d done some climbing at least.
After reaching the top, the two of them made their way to his police vehicle and got in. They saw several others driving back into town when they turned onto the road, and by the time they arrived at the fire station, at least fifteen others had reported in.
“No one’s had any news,” Matilda told them, her voice firm, her fear held back with a strong hand.
Behind her was a whiteboard on which someone had written out a detailed description of Miriama’s clothing, shoes, phone, and iPod. No mention of a watch or earrings and Anahera couldn’t remember if the girl’s ears had been pierced. But the other items were distinctive. Anahera took note.
“The ones doing the bush tracks are still out,” Matilda continued, “but we haven’t got anyone really searching the rest of the town. What if she got hit by a car or something like that?”
Anahera knew that was unlikely. Someone would’ve spotted Miriama if she’d been on or near a road, especially with search volunteers having come in from every corner of Golden Cove.
The cop didn’t crush Matilda’s hopes. “It won’t do any harm for a volunteer to drive through the streets Miriama might’ve cut through,” he said.
Vincent, who’d just returned and come to join them, put up his hand. “I can do it.” His blond hair—like gilt when in the sunlight—was wind tousled and messier than it ever was in the publicity stills used for the family charity or his business interests. “My car’s got those special high beams and they cut pretty well through the dark.”
“I’ll go with Vincent,” his search partner said, her face seamed with life but her gaze alert. “Better to have two sets of eyes than one.”
Anahera smiled tightly at Vincent as he moved past her, thinking that this wasn’t how she’d wanted to run into her former schoolmate again, but Vincent didn’t even seem to see her. Likely, he was already planning his route for maximum coverage. That was Vincent for you—he’d been the cleverest of them all. Always turned in the cleanest reports, had the most thoughtfully worked-out equations.
It was a wonder they’d all liked him as much as they had. But Vincent had a way about him—he was so quietly easygoing that he could fit into almost any environment and, as a friend, he was reliable. Back when they were eleven, before he was sent to boarding school, he’d once lent Anahera a copy of his completed math homework, after a night when she simply hadn’t been able to concentrate because her parents were screaming at each other.
She’d gone out to sit on the beach in an effort to find focus, but it turned out she’d brought the screaming with her, her head full of violence. In the end, she’d settled in a spot on the cliffs from where she could watch the waves come in and stayed there till dawn. Maybe Miriama’d had one of those days, too; maybe she was just sitting somewhere, waiting for dawn to come.
“Let me have a look at that list of search areas,” the cop said to Matilda. After scanning it, he began to hand out more assignments, covering little-used tracks and areas of the town that Nikau had marked as unassigned. “If I’ve given any of you an area you’re unfamiliar with, speak up now. It’s no good to Miriama if you’re stumbling around.”
Two groups spoke up, ended up swapping tasks.
“You’re the only person without a partner except for me,” he said to Anahera, then subtly angled his