Page 29

Kui called as we drove home. “We didn’t get any more info out of Petey.”

I grunted. “Snow’s been keeping Rangi in the dark.”

Kui tsked with annoyance. “Snow would never muck my son around, even if it’s about time off. There’s only one explanation—Snow doesn’t know it’s the final shipment, which proves that Snow is not the head of this thing. It’s someone else, and they’re keeping him in the dark.”

I hummed as if considering what she said. There was no point in arguing unless I had proof. Promising to keep each other updated, we said goodbye and rang off.

Declan white-knuckled the wheel, seeming unusually disturbed. “I need to find a contact at the port in The Mount to confirm that date. And I’ll send an alert to London.”

“Why would this be the final shipment?” I gripped the stone I kept in my pocket. My gut tightened. “God. Do you think he might suspect us?”

“That would be the worst-case scenario.” He forced out a breath. “I hope to hell it’s not. Maybe he has the money he needs for whatever he’s buying or investing in. Or maybe the chain is breaking down.”

We trudged into the house, joined Mum and Fred on the sofa, and video-called Dad. He wanted to hear all about our night, and he was sad to miss it. I said I hoped we could do it again once he had fully recovered. He looked pale, and I hoped it was end-of-day tiredness. Fred wandered out the back.

We hung up, and, still sitting on the sofa, I searched for some peace in the moonlight on the sea, a sleek, soothing silver.

BAM!

A blast exploded in the room.

The windowpane shattered into pieces. Shards of glass twisted toward us like pointed raindrops in a storm. My veins blistered in fear.

What was that thing hurtling through it? A bird? A rock?

“Get down.” Declan grabbed Mum and me both. He hauled us behind the sofa.

Mum and I huddled together, my heart pumping. Mum whimpered. “Is it a bomb? What happened?”

“I don’t know, Mum.” I heard my voice crack. My gut lurched with nausea.

“Stay here,” Declan rasped out.

From a crouching position, he leaped through the living room and was gone. I lay over Mum again, both of us gasping. Mum rocked under me, crying. “We’re going to be okay, Mum,” I said. “Declan will look after us. He’s a professional. He’s trained for this.”

Mum shuddered a breath. “A professional?” she asked, dazed.

Oh, shit . “No, um, I mean, he used to be in the army reserves.” I bobbed my head up quickly, and every part of me hurt. My arms and legs were stinging with cuts. Mum’s hair glinted. “Mum, don’t move. We have glass all through our hair and clothes.”

“I’m trying not to. What’s happening now? Is it safe to look? ”

“No, better not.”

Each second felt like an age. Sirens screamed the arrival of police. Relief washed through me. Declan must have called them. Barking ripped through the air.

“Fred. Where’s Fred?” My heart stopped.

Mum cried out.

“Someone’s got him. He’s safe. He was outside.

” Oh, thank God. That voice made me feel safer.

I looked up. Declan. He reached down, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged like he’d sprinted up and down the beach.

“Wait, both of you, be still.” Carefully, he picked glass shards from our hair and clothing—Mum first, then me.

“I ran all around the house and along the beach. Couldn’t find anyone. ”

Four police and an ambulance arrived. As one of the police officers took statements, the paramedic treated our cuts.

After the police looked around for some time, the supervisor sat us down at the dining table. “Someone threw a rock through your window. They must have been close to cause this kind of impact. But the act seems random, which might mean it’s bored kids.”

“Little shits,” said one of the officers behind him. She was hushed up. I knew it was more than that. It annoyed me that they were dismissing it so easily, but, sadly, this was the reaction I’d expected.

The glass man came immediately, cleaned up, and taped the window shut with board, ready for the glass delivery the next day. Upside of a small town.

While he did that, Declan took me aside. “I’m sure I saw Snow’s car drive away.”

It felt like something was stalking my heartbeat. I nodded. Declan touched my neck and moved closer. I held my breath .

“You okay? I won’t hug you; it might hurt.”

“I’m okay, thanks. I told Mum about your time in the army reserves and how we were lucky you were here,” I said in a pointed tone. He nodded, showing that he followed.

Rosemary came to pick up Mum and Fred to sleep at her house. Declan insisted on sleeping on the sofa in case anyone came back. With Mum out of harm’s way, I decided to sleep at home too.

“Could this be Snow?” I asked Declan as he made up the sofa.

It was around midnight. I was bone-weary but still rifling through the mess in my brain for a clue as to what this meant.

“This feels bad.” Giving up was not an option.

I pressed against the sofa. “Do you think someone out there is sending us a message?”

He dropped a pillow and drilled his fingers into his temples.

“I’ve had plenty of this through the years.

Punctured tires, shots through the air, rocks through windows.

But there’s always a note. ‘Stop digging.’ ‘Get out of town.’ ‘Next time, it’s your face.

’ It’s part of the intimidation. Still, I’ll station some guys at The Mount. But you know that’s an hour away.”

That night in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep, I thought about how quick and experienced and physical Declan was, reacting within seconds.

While I was considering whether the rock was a bird, he’d carried us behind the sofa.

Roughly but effectively. I saw him differently, a small window into the sort of danger he went through.

I couldn’t give up on this, despite the danger, but I was racked with guilt—did my parents have the right to know about the case?

A dark thudding pit yawned in my stomach.

The fact this happened to him all the time drove home exactly the danger we were all in and what I’d taken on.