she had inside her, Keira was no one’s puppet. “Not that you’re exactly an innocent party, Dan. You made the decision to be with Keira while she was still married to another man.” Separated wasn’t the same as divorced. “You had to know what was coming.”
“Trust you to cut right to the heart of it.” Daniel’s wry smile struck her with a bolt of memory, a reminder of his charm when they’d been teenagers.
Anahera had not only been hopelessly gawky back then, she’d dressed in hand-me-downs and cheap fabrics that her mother made into shorts and dresses. She could never hope to compete with the glossy private-school girls Daniel had favored. But the rich, pretty, popular boy had still spoken to her and they’d still played together on the beach.
Once, he’d even paid for her movie ticket so she could see the superhero movie everyone was talking about. He’d also come into the cabin and eaten jam sandwiches together with her for lunch, never once commenting on the poverty in which Anahera and her mother existed.
Daniel might be arrogant, but he’d never been an ass to Anahera personally.
“I was sorry to hear about your husband.” It seemed a sincere statement. “You were never meant for a town this small, Ana. I was glad for you when you got out.”
That was the Daniel who’d challenged her to barefoot races on the beach and who’d bought her a movie ticket. But there had always been another Daniel that she’d sensed even as a girl, well before he’d manipulated his way into the scholarship meant for Nikau: that ruthless Daniel who would do anything to get what he wanted.
“What’re you doing in town?” She couldn’t respond to the condolence today, not without betraying the icy, hard anger that lived in her.
“Just want to grab a coffee from Josie.” He slid off his sunglasses to reveal eyes as dark as she remembered—like chips of black granite. “I’m driving to Greymouth—have a meeting with a developer.”
“Don’t you have a helicopter for that?”
“Why have a gorgeous fucking machine like the Lambo if I never drive it?” His smile didn’t reach those opaque eyes. “Has there been any other news on the missing girl?”
Anahera shook her head. “Do you know her well?”
It was Daniel’s turn to shrug. “Like I know most people in this town.”
Considering the watch on his wrist, Anahera decided to chance another comment. “I only really knew her when she was small.”
“She sold me Girl Guide cookies once,” Daniel said suddenly. “Came to our door dressed in that uniform they wear. I guess she must’ve been about seven or eight. I was nineteen and home for the holidays.”
He slid his sunglasses back on. “I bought a whole bunch of cookies off her, and she smiled this great big smile at me, and I thought: The world’s going to crush you.” No smile now, just ruthless cold. “That’s what it does to fragile, beautiful things.”
He moved past her the next second.
Anahera watched after him until he disappeared into the warmth of Josie’s café; that had been a distinctly odd story to share, but it could be just Daniel playing games. He’d had a way of doing that even as a boy, of manipulating people for his own enjoyment—or sometimes for no reason at all.
Anahera had always thought he hadn’t tried it on her as a child because she was so far beneath him in terms of power and wealth or even family. She could never do anything to hurt or to help him. So he’d put down the knife, stopped the power plays.
Looked like that no longer applied.
35
Will hadn’t been sure Anahera would turn up this morning, so when she pushed open the door to the station, he turned from the filing cabinet with a quiet inhale. He was struck once again by how contained she was; he wondered if anyone, even Josie, truly knew her. Maybe Nikau had an idea—the two seemed close, but if they’d ever had a romantic relationship they’d left it behind long ago.
The entire time that Will had known Nikau, the other man had been obsessed with his ex-wife: Keira seemed to be the only woman Nik noticed—and had noticed for years. Though Will couldn’t forget that night in the bar and the way Nikau had talked about Miriama.
Will had to be careful not to let his friendship with Nikau cloud his judgment. Because Nik fit all the parameters of someone Miriama would’ve trusted even if she’d run into him