what you’re doing in Golden Cove?” Will had run a background check on the other man the day after he took up the position of local cop—Nikau had looked like trouble and Will had wanted to know how bad it was.
What he’d discovered hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected.
“Field research,” was the mocking answer. “Talking of which”—he swung off the bar stool—“your dick might have taken a vacation, but mine hasn’t.” A slap of Will’s shoulder. “Christine Tierney off-limits?”
“Only if she says so. I’ve got nothing to do with it.” He raised his bottle. “Good luck.” Throwing back the last of his beer, he put the bottle down on the stained and scarred wood of the bar and got up. “I’m going home.”
Shaking his head at that, Nikau prowled off toward the group of women that held Christine Tierney. Despite the other man’s question about Christine, Will wasn’t sure who it was that Nikau had in his sights—and he wasn’t sure Nik cared.
Having already confirmed that Nikau was planning to walk home, he said good-bye to a few others, then headed out. The night wind was cold, bracing, the salt water heavy in the air tonight. He strode toward the street that would lead him to the far eastern end of town.
He’d lived in the B&B for the first month, until he got sick of the landlord knowing his every move. So he’d rented a house that belonged to a couple who’d left Golden Cove but hadn’t been able to find a buyer for their property. Not many people wanted to move to such a remote area on a permanent basis.
Spotting a group of teenagers loitering in front of the closed tourism center, he crossed the empty road to them. They immediately straightened. He caught the fading hint of tobacco smoke, decided to let it go. It was the harder stuff that was a real problem—and there was plenty of that floating around in town.
“I think it’s time you went home,” he said quietly. “I heard you guys have an exam tomorrow.” The teenagers caught the bus to a high school an hour away, but that didn’t mean the town didn’t know the details of their studies.
The kids scuffed their shoes. “It’s gonna be stupid basic,” one of them muttered, but when Will met his eyes, the boy dropped his head.
“I’ll walk you home,” Will said, even though two of them lived out of his way.
The teens weren’t exactly thrilled at the escort, but they were young enough not to give him lip. He knew Golden Cove wasn’t a big city, that it was unlikely they’d get in trouble the way a city kid might—but then again, the most evil monsters often wore a familiar face. Could be he was walking them home to danger, but he knew the parents of all these kids: a couple were apathetic, uncaring of where their kids wandered, but the rest did their best on meager budgets.
Only once they’d all walked through their front doors did he continue on his way, his gaze drawn toward the trees that hid the ocean. He’d heard through the grapevine that the new face in town, Anahera Spencer-Ashby, formerly Anahera Rawiri, had moved into a clifftop cabin that had once belonged to her mother.
The place hadn’t looked safe to him the last time he’d checked it out, so he’d made a few inquiries. The town was too small to have a mayor, but the leader of the business council had assured him the cabin was solidly built. “Though it’ll be filthy,” Evelyn Triskell had said with a shudder that threatened to dislodge the tight silver bun on top of her head. “Probably spiders everywhere. Anahera is braver than me.”
Almost without thought, Will’s feet turned toward the cabin. It was a long walk, but he had plenty of time—he didn’t sleep much—and the night was crisp, the sky above studded with stars. He stopped halfway down the graveled drive to the cabin, able to see it clearly from his position. Light blazed from the window that faced the drive.
A body moved across the uncurtained window right then, the shape feminine.
She froze midmove, staring out at the darkness, as if she sensed him. He knew she couldn’t see him out here in the blackness and he wondered who else might watch her. She needed to get curtains, he thought as she flicked off the light, putting them on an even footing.