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“I’d love to take you up on your offer of fishing.” Declan tapped Snow’s foot. “Keen as.” It was after dinner that night, and both men were moving furniture under Mum’s direction for Dad’s arrival home the next day.

This was the new, active Declan. I noticed he looked different too, in a gray Henley that clung to his thick biceps, the neckline open, arms pushed up.

After surfing, yoga, and visiting Dad twice, we’d spent the day chatting to as many locals as possible without raising suspicion and trying to pin down Rosemary, but there was no natural opening, and we decided to leave it until tomorrow before Dad’s homecoming barbecue.

We also spoke to Declan’s team, and he instructed them to search for a scientist who could tell us more about synthetic heroin.

“Keen as.” Snow chuckled at Declan’s use of Kiwi slang. His face sparked. “Why not now? C’mon, just the two of us. When Dad gets home, it won’t feel right until he can come, too, ’cause it’s our thing.”

Wait. Did he say “Dad,” not “Isla’s dad?”

Declan looked thrilled, but I knew his stomach must be plummeting. We both got seasick surfing but agreed the pills made us too drowsy and we’d get used to it. Fishing in the open sea was on another scale altogether. We knew the first pill had to be taken the night before. Too late for that.

“Sweet,” Declan said. “I’ll go and grab my stuff.”

Like a dutiful girlfriend, I followed him to the bedroom to pack.

Back in the room, I hung around while he changed into old jeans in the bathroom, then packed a thick sweater and a parka in case the weather turned nasty.

He slugged down a seasick pill with water.

Too late to be effective. We both knew he was in for a brutal couple of hours.

We were left staring at each other. He seemed tense.

The air between us pulled tight, throbbing, and the room felt small.

His eyes glittered as they swept over me, growing heavy-lidded as they met my bare flesh—my thighs below the hem of my new dress.

The skin above my low neckline. I was suddenly aware of his corded forearms, his chest revealed by his unbuttoned shirt.

The belt loops on his old jeans. My eyes ached to dip farther down to his… Stop.

He ground his jaw.

“C’mon, you two,” Snow called from outside the room. “Boat’s waiting for us.”

I walked them out to Snow’s car. There had to be a kiss goodbye.

Declan put his hands on my shoulders and trailed them up to my neck, where he ran an index finger up and down my skin.

Back and forth, back and forth. It felt like silk.

Voices intruded, and I blushed, self-conscious.

I tried harder to block them out as he moved his face toward me.

I lifted my mouth, waiting for his kiss.

But his lips moved to my ear. It tickled, and my knee slid involuntarily up the inside of his leg.

His lips brushed my cheek until we were eye to eye, so close I was seeing double, our noses smooshed against each other. I gave a soft laugh because it was so absurd, but also, I was nervous.

“Okay?” he murmured, and when I nodded, he kissed my upper lip, holding it for a second with his teeth.

“Mmm,” I hummed.

Smiling, he turned his head and slowly laid his mouth on mine. Softly. And lifted off. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was a good kiss for a couple separated for a night.

He turned again, and I felt a zing on my upper lip as it touched his, and a clenching in my stomach, and somehow my lips acted on their own. They parted, wanting more.

With a small groan, he moved one of his hands behind my head and ran his fingers through my hair, raking hard along my scalp, clutching me closer.

How did he know how much I liked that? I stood on my toes, raised my arms around his neck, and felt the nerves in every part of my body rush to my lips.

They pressed into his, merging and sighing.

His mouth still on mine, he moaned and parted his lips until I could feel the warm, wet inside of them. He teased my mouth farther open with his tongue.

That was it. My feet stretched higher so I could get closer and closer to him.

Until it was just him and me in this world, not even people with our names, two bodies crushing against each other.

It felt like we could go on kissing all night.

He chuckled like we were so clever discovering this thing that felt so good, but the sound caught in his throat and dropped to a groan as I moved my hips against him.

A car horn honked. We flew apart.

“C’mon, you two lovebirds,” called Snow through the car window. “Wind it up. The sailor’s heading out to sea.”

Declan pulled me up against him. He whispered into my ear, “I’ll miss you tonight.

” My ear buzzed hot from his husky voice, and his words sent signals deep into all my body’s corners.

Before I could think of a reply, the place where his strong, hard, unfamiliar body pressed against me was empty air.

Dazed, I watched him climb in next to Snow.

*

After a few dumbstruck minutes, I shook myself. With Snow gone, this might be my chance to get CeeCee alone.

Inside, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and slid it into my backpack. Seeing Mum’s questioning glance, I wanted to explain. “I’m going to ask CeeCee about what Sarge said. She’s good friends with him, and she knew Janey.” I couldn’t tell her the full truth about what I wanted to ask.

She tapped her lips. “Good idea. Just wait.” She sliced a hunk of her chocolate cake into a container and slipped it into my pack. “Make sure you arrive at the back of the cottage through the sand dunes. It’ll be harder for her to fob you off because you can sit outside.”

My face brightened and I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mum.”

To do it Kui’s way, I couldn’t ask outright questions about the winery, so I’d have to think on the fly.

I approached from the dunes, slowing to a glacial stroll.

I got a perfect view of the kitchen, the main bedroom, and the spare bedroom.

I heard movement inside. Not wanting to look like I was snooping, I knocked on the kitchen door.

CeeCee appeared. I tried to absorb the details quickly.

The shiplap walls were painted periwinkle blue, sheepskins were draped on white rattan furniture, vintage teacups on old shelves.

It was cozy and charming like her boutique.

Startled, she opened the door dressed in old sweats, her hair pulled back.

I smiled, presenting my wine and some of Mum’s chocolate cake. “The boys are headed out to sea. Thought we could have a glass of wine together?”

She gave a panicked glance at the kitchen. “Oh God, the place is a total mess. Snow has paperwork strewn all over.” I checked. The surfaces looked clear. “I mentioned how he guards his privacy.” She looked genuinely fearful.

I shrugged and nodded to a small driftwood table and two chairs nearby. “No worries, it’s lovely out here.” I was pushing enough that I couldn’t push more.

She looked back inside. I followed her gaze to the old kitchen clock.

“I’ve got fifteen minutes until I have to leave. Just a quick one?” she said.

I made a mental note of the timeframe as she dashed inside and fetched two glasses. I tried to position myself so I could survey the three rooms without making it obvious.

She joined me, set down the glasses and poured the wine. “Hey, I wanted to say, don’t take any notice of Sarge. He’s grumpy at the moment because his knee gives him a lot of gip. But that’s no excuse for lashing out at you.”

Why did everyone stick up for that man?

“I was upset by what he said about Janey. He said she was not who I thought she was.” I searched her face. “What do you think?”

She narrowed her eyes and took a slow sip of her wine. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.”

What did that mean? “Of course not. But you were a friend of hers—so, does that ring true?”

“ Friend? ” Her top lip curled, distorting her pronounced Cupid’s bow. “She wasn’t what I’d call a friend. I was terrified of her. ”

I jerked forward, bumping my wine. “ Terrified of her?” I stilled the glass.

She took a deep breath. “We all were, even Cazza and Lolly. She fucked with us so badly, it kept us all on edge. She’d be charming and charismatic, loving everything about you.

Your expressions. Your friendship bracelets.

Your beauuu-ti-ful tan. And then she’d make a fool of you in front of everyone for the exact same things. She was a bloody nightmare.”

My world jolted on its axis. I stared at her in a trance. “What? I always thought she stood up for people. That’s what I liked about her.”

She yanked her chin back in surprise. “Like who?”

I gave two names of the many bullied kids I’d seen her help. One boy was constantly taunted for being gay; the other was a mousy, timid girl.

“Oh my God.” She threw up her arms. “Janey was the one who spread around that he was gay and gave him that name, and he knew it. She’d be his friend in public, and he was too scared to confront her.”

I wanted to cling to my disbelief, because it protected my glittering memories of Janey, but something in me hinged open with a creak, and a sliver of doubt edged in.

“I’d thought that Janey had rescued that girl from a rope course in PE,” I said.

“Janey chased her up there in the first place.”

My voice scraped up my throat. “So you agree with Sarge?” I swiped back my hair. “That she was unhappy, and that’s why she took her own life?”

“I mean…” She scrunched up her face. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

I slumped into my chair, dizzied by the swift turn in the conversation. I might have gotten some things wrong about my childhood, perceptions of people, but this didn’t mean I had to question every memory that was lodged in my thirty-four-year-old mind. I knew what I’d seen.

I’d thought Janey was happy when she’d waited for me after school and asked me to take the note to Snow.

I thought she was happy later that night too.

She’d bounced along our shared driveway, animated when she met someone on the beach.

But after reading her diary, how could she have been happy?

My whole career had been based on my ability to read between the lines.

To see what others didn’t . If what CeeCee was saying was true, I didn’t know my friend at all. I felt so… unsettled.

I checked the clock in the kitchen. Ten minutes left.

“Time to head out,” she said. “I’ll drop you home.”

Oh no. It would have seemed churlish to point out it wasn’t fifteen minutes.

She stood up and tapped into her phone. While she was occupied, I peered into the two bedrooms, desperate to find something that stood out.

Yes. There it was.

*

One room was a puzzle.

Not the main bedroom, which had three different kinds of floral wallpaper and a beautiful old walnut dressing table laden with roses.

It was the spare bedroom, plain and undecorated.

A surf magazine lay on an unmade single bed. I recognized a couple of the shirts that were laid out. Snow’s. Maybe the ones in the closet were someone else’s? But Snow was a rich man now—why would he need a housemate? If there was a housemate, it was a secret one .

On the drive home, I only had a few minutes to make a connection with her.

We passed the campground. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened,” I said. “About your dad.”

She rubbed at her exposed forearm. “My father was a horrible drunk and then a horrible addict. Sarge tried to help him, but he was too far gone.”

“Sarge?” I creased my forehead. “Why would Sarge try to help your father?”

She shrugged. “They were big rugby mates together back in the day, won loads of tourneys. My dad was small, but he was fast.” She glanced out to sea, her mouth twisted.

“Apparently. I never saw him move faster than a slug. He was locked up by our second year of high school. Even when he was out, he never came back to this town, thank God.”

“You had to cope with so much at such a young age, CeeCee. I’m sorry. I know we weren’t friends, but I wish we were.”

“Me too.” Her eyes drifted back to me. “You had your own shit to deal with. To think—we could have helped each other, if only we’d known. Bit of a tragedy all around.”

She looked tortured, and it made me feel ghastly for how I’d initially judged her. She’d suffered loss, much more so than I had.

She smiled, but her eyes glistened wet in the early-evening sun. “It makes me sad thinking about it.” She sniffed. “Snow, too, poor guy. His father was a ratbag, beat him senseless, terrible hidings.”

Mum, Dad, and Rosemary had said the same about Snow’s father. Maybe that was why CeeCee had latched on to Snow—he’d also had a crappy home life. Otherwise, it was hard to know what she was getting out of the relationship. She seemed frightened of him.

Mum was out on the deck with Fred and waved as we pulled up.

“God.” I breathed out. “And your mother.”

She shrank into herself as though she couldn’t talk about it. “You’re so lucky with your mum,” she said quickly and waved back at Mum. “You know she calls the neighbors before you walk past every day, whether it’s for yoga or lunch. Feels like she’s proud of you.”

Since the first day, I’d wondered how the neighbors seemed to know we were coming. I was surprised by a surge of brightness in my chest.

“By the way, whatever happened to Cazza and Lolly?” I slowly climbed out of the car.

“Left town. They come back to visit their parents. Lolly is a suburban mum up north—no doubt terrorizing the PTA.” She shuddered. “And Cazza’s some sort of chemist in Australia… equally scary prospect.”

She said a hasty goodbye and pulled away.

I told Mum what CeeCee said about Janey. “Gosh, I’m as surprised as you are, Isla,” she said. I stayed silent about the spare room.

As we crossed the deck, Fred at our heels, I glanced into the evening sky as it strained to hold on to the last ragged edges of light. I couldn’t help but wonder whether the person staying in that spare room, whoever it was, was the key to our heroin investigation.