Hanging up afterward, Will stared at the windows awash with rain. He’d made an effort to sound normal for Hamish, but the man who’d once grabbed an after-work beer with the lawyer was long gone. This Will… This Will wasn’t so sure who he was anymore. But he knew how to do his job.
He turned back to his desk, and ran a deeper search on all the tourists whose names Glenda had forwarded. All came back clean. Most had been international visitors who’d long ago returned to their countries of origin; the small group of New Zealanders had no criminal records among them.
He then began to make his way through the stack of memory cards he’d taken from the café.
It was only when he looked up after going through all of them that he realized it was dark outside. Going to the doorway, he pulled it open and looked over to the fire station, the rain hitting his face as it slanted in under the eaves.
No lights. No vehicles parked out front.
Hardly a surprise—the rain was crashing down. He took care of a few other matters, then made sure his phone was fully charged and shrugged back into his high-viz jacket for the drive to Anahera’s.
This rain was made to cause emergencies and he needed to be ready to respond. Most Golden Cove residents would call him rather than the official emergency line. At the last minute, he went back and picked up the watch and tin. The station did have a safe, but he wasn’t comfortable leaving the items here before he’d had a chance to examine them.
He put the memory cards not in the main safe but in the hidden gun safe; there was nothing suspicious on them, but it was Miriama’s work and deserved to be protected.
Once in his car, his hair damp again and his jacket gleaming with transparent droplets, he drove past the clinic to make sure Dominic de Souza wasn’t still just sitting inside, shocked and lost. Seeing the place was dark, he swung by the two-bedroom house the doctor rented from Daniel May. It wasn’t far from the surgery.
The single light in the kitchen showcased Dominic at the table, head slumped on his arms. Will frowned. The other man didn’t look in good shape. He was about to get out and knock on the door, make sure depression wasn’t getting the best of Dominic, when another person moved into the frame.
It was the pastor. The gray-haired man was holding a mug of something, and a plate of what looked like toast. He put both in front of Dominic, then placed his wrinkled hand on the doctor’s shoulder and squeezed. When Dominic raised his head at last, the older man sat down next to him, seemed to be talking intently. After a while, the doctor nodded and picked up a piece of toast to take a small bite.
Satisfied Dominic was under careful watch, Will turned his vehicle toward Anahera’s place. He thought about picking up something for dinner and taking it along with him, but it looked like everyone had shut up shop early because of the weather. Well, he had half a loaf of bread in his fridge at home. He and Dominic would be having the same meal tonight.
As he drove through the dark and deserted streets, he could see the May estate in the distance—lit up against the night. He wondered if Daniel had returned home from his meetings or if it was Keira up there alone. Just then, he glimpsed red taillights through the trees, as if a car was climbing up toward the estate. Someone from Golden Cove? Or had Daniel come into town to attend the gathering at the fire station, and was now driving home to his wife?
No way to tell from here, the rain diminishing even the limited visibility he normally had of the road up to the estate.
The tourism center, he was happy to see, was also shut up. Glenda lived literally behind it, but he swung around anyway to make sure she was safe. She came to the window and waved when his headlights cut across her front window, well used to his patrols by now. Will flashed his headlights at her in a silent response, carried on. He had to check up on a number of others, elderly and vulnerable individuals who might’ve been forgotten in the tidal wave of worry over Miriama.