Anahera shrugged. “I guess people figure friends aren’t supposed to poach from friends.”

Expression cooling, Daniel slid his own hands into the pockets of his dark gray suit pants. His shirt was a vivid aqua, his watch a Patek Philippe Anahera vaguely recognized from a catalog the highly respected watch company had sent to Edward.

The watch was probably worth more than the Lamborghini.

It wasn’t a surprise that Daniel enjoyed fine watches. But it was something to note.

“It takes two to tango,” he said in response to her sally. “And Nikau wasn’t exactly interested in dancing with his wife. He was too puffed up with his own importance, always away at a conference or in ‘office hours’ with ­nineteen-­year-­olds who thought he was a god. Not my fault if she decided to seek greener pastures.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you.” Anahera wondered if Daniel still drew. He’d once given her a pen drawing of a kea, showing the ­rabble-­rousing native parrot in the midst of one of its favorite activities: destroying the rubber seal around a car’s window.

She could see no signs of that whimsical boy in this sharply dressed man.

“Like you said,” she added, “the entire mess involved three people, not just you.” She didn’t think Nikau had cheated on his wife as Daniel was implying; Nikau had always been obsessed with Keira, far too obsessed to play outside the marriage bed.

But, unlike Nikau, she wasn’t about to turn Daniel into a ­black-­hearted villain who’d lured Keira away. Whatever strange emptiness 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 in an isolated ­spot—­he was a local who knew her aunt and was considered a good man, a man who’d step in and help if you needed it.

Will had once spotted Nikau slipping a twenty into the hand of an elderly woman who’d been struggling after the death of her husband.

Nikau also spent considerable time hiking the various trails around Golden Cove, both for work and for pleasure, so Miriama wouldn’t have found it unusual to see him along her route. She’d probably run into him multiple times over the two years since he’d moved back to the Cove.

All of that was why Will had quietly checked the search map to make sure Nikau alone had never searched a particular area.

His relief at seeing multiple initials on all squares bearing Nik’s own initials had been an easing of muscles he hadn’t realized were knotted. The map didn’t totally clear Nik, however. If he’d hurt Miriama, the ocean would’ve been the natural dumping ground for a man who knew this landscape so intimately.

“Done your rounds?” Anahera asked, her wavy hair down around a face that gave nothing away and that had the hard edge of knocks taken and survived.

“Yes, no major damage.” He’d started on the cusp of dawn, been out for four hours. “I had to return Julia Lee’s ­dog—­Cupcake the bulldog took shelter in Christine Tierney’s house, after apparently managing to dig his way out from under Julia’s fence and becoming caught in the storm. And I righted a trampoline over at Tania Meikle’s, but that was the extent of the excitement.”