His words were a punch to the solar plexus. “Anahera is fine.” Rawiri or -Spencer--Ashby, she wanted to claim neither surname. “Would you like some coffee? I think I have another mug.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass this time.” Impossible to read those eyes, that grim face. “I did want to make sure you had a way of contacting help if you need it. I know there’s no landline phone at this address.”

Anahera wasn’t certain if she was amused or not; it had been a long time since she’d answered to anyone. “I have a mobile phone, just like most of the universe.”

No change in his expression. “You mind checking the signal for me?”

“And if I do?”

No smile. “Then I guess I’ll be doing a welfare check on you every morning.”

Nikau laughed at that, but his tone was serious when he met Anahera’s eyes again. “Will’s right, Ana. You should check. This place is in the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere.”

Rolling her eyes, Anahera went inside and grabbed her phone. She brought up the home screen as she walked -out… and cursed. At least the cop didn’t say “I told you so.” Instead, he said, “I suggest you move to a different provider.” He named which one. “Their signal appears to reach even the far edges of Golden Cove.”

“Upside is their plans are cheap,” Nikau said. “I can lend you my phone until you switch.”

Anahera waved aside the offer. “I’ll be fine. I have nothing to steal and we all know petty burglary is at the top of the Golden Cove crime stats.” Some folks stole out of boredom, others out of poverty.

“Crime isn’t the only threat,” the cop said. “If you have an accident, it’s possible no one will find you for days.”

Anahera could feel herself going white. Squeezing her hand around the phone, she stared at the cop. “You’ve done your job. Far as I know, cops aren’t babysitters.”

7

Will wondered what he’d said. Not only had Anahera iced up, but Nikau’s face had gone hostile between one heartbeat and the next. Mentally tracing back the conversation, he realized it had been his statement about a possible domestic accident that had done it. Obviously, he’d stepped on a nerve. That was what happened when everyone in a small town knew something but no one talked about it: hapless outsiders put their foot in it.

“You’re right,” he said mildly. “I was a terrible babysitter. Used to let my neighbors’ kids eat candy all night.” He nodded at a -stony--faced Anahera, then Nikau. “Have a good day.”

He felt their eyes on him as he got into his vehicle, both dark, both impenetrable.

It was a good thing he’d never told himself that he understood Nikau; their friendship was a surface thing based on their liking for the same sport, a good run through the trees, and the odd beer. Will knew Nikau was pissed his ex had married -rich--and--liked--people--to--know--it Daniel May, and that Nikau was in the Cove because of that same ex.

That was pretty much the extent of his personal knowledge of Nikau Martin.

Nik knew even less about Will.

As he backed down the drive, unable to turn with Nikau’s truck parked where it was, he was again aware of both of them watching him leave. Watching the outsider leave. He’d never had any illusions about that, -either—-in a place like this, a man stayed an outsider for decades, no matter how hard he tried.

Of course, Will wasn’t exactly hankering to belong anywhere.

Which made him the perfect cop to send to Golden Cove.

8

Anahera drove to the garage after breakfast, her blood still cold. Peter, unsmiling as always, and just a little strange in a way it was difficult to define, said, “Hi, Ana,” and got to work checking out her engine.

Nothing serious, was the conclusion. He changed a small part, told her the Jeep was a solid investment, then waved off the bill. “Next time won’t be free.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Guilt nipped at her even as she said that. She’d never been able to make herself genuinely like Peter, though she’d tried; he was always nice and he’d never done anything to make her dislike -him… but the tiny hairs on her nape stood up anytime she was alone with the lanky redhead. “Have a good day.”

He nodded, standing unmoving in the garage entrance as she drove away. It felt as if his muddy green eyes tracked her until she turned onto the main strip. She spotted the cop’s vehicle heading out of town, tried to guess who he was going to see. A number of Cove people lived way out in the wilderness, including a few who didn’t much care for company. But she guessed that was his -job—-to show his face even in the shadows, make people know the law was around.

She wondered if it was working.

Parking the Jeep outside the café, she got out. But it was only Miriama she found inside. “Jo says her ankles are the size of tree stumps today,” the girl informed Anahera, her smile sunny. “I told her to stay home and have some time to herself since Tom’s taken the boyo with him on a job. With the weather so grizzly, it’ll probably be quiet until the fishing boats come in later today.”

Anahera had almost not noticed the change in the -weather—-the West Coast was often clear and bright even in winter, but for some reason of geography, the Cove collected what water there was in the atmosphere. The sky was stormy gray today, rain a dark mist that threatened to turn morning into evening. “Who’s out fishing?”