And he’d been genuinely devastated in the aftermath.

But, it took a lot to strangle a woman to near death with your bare hands; it wasn’t a thing of seconds but minutes. Dominic remembered what he’d done, even if he was too cowardly to look into the past and into his own horror.

But the -punch… that explained why Dominic had no scratches on his face or arms, why there’d been no signs of a struggle. Will would never know for certain, but he had the strong feeling Dominic’s punch had knocked Miriama out cold. Easy prey for a man determined to strangle her to death. “Was there blood?”

“I don’t know.” Dominic swallowed hard. “But I always have a change in the car in case a patient throws up on me or something when I’m out at the farms. I dressed in my car on a lonely part of the road, threw the used clothes in a bin the council sets out for campers.”

No one, Will realized, had noticed because Dominic consistently wore white or -light--colored business shirts and dark pants as his work uniform.

“I picked her up and threw her into the whirlpool,” Dominic whispered. “I threw my beautiful Miriama into the whirlpool before sprinting back to my car. I just had to carry her a few feet. She was tall, but she wasn’t heavy. I threw my Miriama into the black water.”

“She drowned.”

Dominic screamed and screamed and screamed. “I’m a doctor! I checked her pulse!”

And yet Will trusted Ankita’s call. Miriama had drowned. Maybe Dominic had made a mistake in his -shock… and maybe he’d made a -cold--blooded decision that he would have to live with for the rest of his life.

The screams went on and on until Dominic’s throat turned raw, and then there was only a -wind--stirred silence for a half hour.

“Can I say -good--bye to her before you take me in?” Dominic’s voice, so hoarse it was a croak.

When Will nodded, the young doctor rose and picked up a large bouquet he must’ve brought with him. Taking the flowers and the bracelet, he walked to the edge of the waves. Will was up on his feet a second later, even as Dominic de Souza tried to run into the ravenous ocean.

Dragging the other man back from the water that tried to suck them both in and under, Will slammed Dominic down on safe ground. “You don’t get to take the easy out,” he said. “You’ll answer in court for your crime, and you’ll look Matilda in the face while you tell her what you did to Miriama.”

Dominic de Souza sobbed into the sand, the bracelet still clutched to his chest and his mouth shaping a single word. “Sunshine.”

EPILOGUE

Two months and a lifetime after they’d laid Miriama to rest, Anahera stood on the cliffs, staring out at the water crashing onto shore below as the wind rippled through her hair. “I can’t stay here,” she said to the man who stood beside her. “I came to hide, but that was never what my mother wanted for me.”

“Where do you want to go?” Will closed his hand over her chilled fingers.

Anahera shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“How about San Diego, for starters?”

Turning to face him, Anahera said, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ve had requests to consult with police departments all over the world. Apparently, since he keeps asking to talk to me, they consider me the Vincent Baker -expert—-and they have a lot of cold cases to close.”

“What about your job here?”

“I think I’ve had enough of hiding, too.” Gray eyes that let her in, let her see the man within. “There’ll be a lot of travel back and -forth—-I have to keep talking to Vincent, see if I can help find the bodies of his other victims.”

“Is he giving you anything?”

“He wants credit.” A whisper of rain in the air, hitting the side of Will’s face. “He’ll play games, drip feed us information, but he knows the only way to stay in the spotlight is to remain relevant. One by one, I’ll locate the bones of his victims.”

Relentless, like water on rock, that was Will.

“I can work with San Diego.” Her wings unfolded inside her as the rain hit her own face, and with the cold droplets came a surge of music, pure and rising in a crescendo.

Her art had never been a creature of sunlight.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

When I began to write this book, I realized there was so much I didn’t know.

My first port of call was the New Zealand Police media team and they were very helpful in answering my general questions about sole charge stations and related matters. At the same time, I reached out online to the staff who run the Christchurch City Libraries/Ngā Kete Wānanga--o--ōtautahi Twitter account for a piece of local knowledge, and got a cheerful and helpful response from Donna.

Life then brought someone into my sphere who was able to answer my forensics and postmortem questions, and who was extremely giving of their time.

I also needed help with Te Reo Māori. My friend Mihiteria King started me off by generously answering a long list of questions, then Fern Whitau helped me go deeper, most specifically into the Ngāi Tahu/Kāi Tahu dialect, with kindness and patience. Another friend, E. V. Lind, stepped in to help me find the right person to get a piece of information I needed.

I have to give a special -shout--out to Alison Shucksmith, who read a -pre--edited copy of this book and picked up an error I would’ve regretted very much had it gone to print.

Thank you to each and every one of you. I very much appreciate your time and willingness to share your knowledge. If there are any mistakes in this book, they are mine. The same with any artistic license taken.

To Cindy, Nephele, Erin, Elaine, Bridget, Rita, and Jessica, as well as all the incredible people behind the scenes at both Berkley and The Knight Agency, you’re amazing and I’m so lucky to work with you.

To my writing friends. Thank you for being so excited about this project from the very start.

And to my -family—-thank you. For so much.

Last but not least, thank you for picking up this book set in a remote part of what will be, for most of you, a distant country. Come visit. It’s lovely and dangerous and beautiful.

—-Nalini