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Day Five

The windowpane was fitted first thing the following morning, but I still felt unsettled and on edge.

We covered up our cuts with makeup and long clothes and didn’t tell Dad about the incident when we visited him, knowing it would cause him unnecessary stress and worry, and we spread the word not to mention it to him.

Afterward, at yoga, everyone swamped us, inspecting our cuts, asking us to recall the smash, tutting about the cost of repairing the window.

“Bloody kids,” they all said, Sarge’s voice the loudest. Like Mum, so sure of their safe town, they believed it must be bored kids playing pranks.

We settled into cross-legged butterfly poses, and Kui’s soothing voice invited us to close our eyes, clear our minds, and focus on our breath.

Maybe I was still jittery with nerves because my eyes stayed open—to see Sarge turn and slash me with a look of pure venom, hurtling my thoughts into a loop that wound faster and faster.

What he’d said to Snow, to Janey’s dad, played over and over in my mind until my head started pounding.

My eyes felt leaden, and the cliff at the end of the beach, where Sarge insisted Janey had jumped, seemed to sway in the feverish sun. My breath came harsh, serrated.

Kui called out another pose. I grabbed my water and chugged it down.

Declan shot a concerned glance from his remarkably steady tree pose and mouthed, You okay?

I nodded. I did feel slightly better, but the class was over in a blur.

My fury surged back after yoga.

“Namaste,” Sarge boomed out, slapping his hands into prayer mode. “After you, ladies.” Then he announced, “Hope everyone’s coming to my rugby game? Chance to see some decent kids in our town, after all.”

I noticed everyone responded with a glowing “Good on you, Sarge” and “Wouldn’t miss it,” like he was single-handedly rescuing the town’s youth.

I took CeeCee aside and offered to walk her back to the boutique.

A heavy, clammy weight slapped my bare shoulder. I swung around. Ugh. Sarge’s hand gripped my skin. His face was so close his sweat flicked at me. People milled around still, including Mum and Rosemary. Declan was helping Kui load the props into her car.

“Sorry about the broken window, but I have to say this for everyone’s sake.

” There was grit in his voice. “Mr.Saunders rang me this morning. He’s very…

”—he took a deep, shuddering breath—“ very upset that you’re dragging up Janey’s death again.

The poor man. Hasn’t he suffered enough?

Let the girl rest in peace. And leave her father alone. ”

I tipped back my head to challenge him. But the hand that flew to my neck was trembling.

“No,” I said. “You’re wrong. He—” I was about to say there was no way he’d complained about me.

Mr.Saunders was the one who’d called on me.

Surely Sarge didn’t know about all the other times I’d discussed Janey?

But a thought short-circuited what I was going to say.

Something about looking up at Sarge rang warning bells.

I tried to capture that something, whatever it was.

But it ebbed and flowed, out of my reach.

An image yanked me back. It was the morning Sarge told me that Janey had killed herself. He’d led me down to the beach and asked me to re-create what I’d seen that previous night, when I’d seen Janey meet someone.

I’d played Janey.

Sarge had said he’d play “the guy she met,” who’d been hidden from my view by the tall, feathery plumes of the toetoe plants.

“Look up at me.” He’d tipped his chin to show me. “Like she would have looked up to the guy she was meeting. And act like her.”

I’d looked up at Sarge like I was doing now. What was it about the fact I’d looked up at him ? Ah. I almost had it… then it vanished.

“What’s going on?” Declan was at my side, his hand on my arm. “Everything okay here?” A small gesture, but it shifted my emotions, making me feel like someone had my back.

A dozen judgmental eyes watched me from no more than six feet away.

Sarge smiled tightly at Declan. “No problems here, mate. Everything’s tickety-boo.” He cut me a bug-eyed glance. “Right, Isla?”

I was so shaken I didn’t answer, but that didn’t faze Sarge. He waved a jovial goodbye and sauntered off.

*

On the way home, humiliated and confused, I found myself downplaying the exchange to Declan while Mum walked silently behind us.

Why hadn’t I called Sarge a liar in front of everyone, defended myself?

Because Sarge had made me feel like the fourteen-year-old who wasn’t believed, was bullied for it, and always felt like she had to prove herself.

Clouds hid the sun, enough to cool my face.

A new strength surged in me. I wanted to avenge that girl.

Only a few minutes later, halfway to the house, I made an excuse about needing something at the store.

Declan wanted to come with me but reluctantly let me go because he needed to get home and file a report.

I hadn’t run in years, but fury made me sprint. In five minutes, I’d caught up to Sarge, walking past the campground.

“We both know Janey’s dad did not complain about me.” I was gasping from the race, my lungs burning. “ He came to me . How could you lie like that? Why are you trying to humiliate me in front of everyone?”

Without a crowd to perform in front of, he shriveled, older. He tried to wave me off, blustering, “Get your facts correct before you try to stir up trouble. Consider this a shot across the bow.”

I kept astride with him, getting in his face. “What are you hiding? You didn’t investigate her death properly—why? Why did you want everyone to think my best friend killed herself?”

He snorted with contempt. “You thought you knew her, but you didn’t. She was a stroppy madam.” His eyes were mocking. “And you were not best friends. Or even friends.”

Okay, Janey and I weren’t best friends anymore after that first year of high school, but I knew she’d get sick of those girls eventually. He wasn’t going to undermine me again.

“ You’re the one who didn’t know her,” I said. “And yet you immediately called it suicide.”

“She was messed up and unhappy, and that’s why she took her own life.”

“ You’re wrong .”

Fury bubbled at his mouth. “It wasn’t the first time I had to deal with her in my official capacity,” he spat out. “The day before—”

He waved a dismissive hand and stomped on faster.

Wait . I stared at him as he shrugged, pretending he hadn’t said it. “You dealt with Janey the day before she died ?” I lunged in front of him. “You dealt with Janey in your capacity as police chief. Is that what you’re saying?”

He took a big step around me and howled, “Leave it the fuck alone. She’s dead, and there is no story.”

Shocked at the venom in his words, I watched as he hobbled away, clutching his knee.

What had happened between him and Janey? How had he kept that secret? I felt a mix of triumph and wariness. He’d let something slip. I had a new lead. I also had a sneaking suspicion he was going to make me pay for it.