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“I thought I’d be safe in bright daylight.”

Will had nodded. “Evelyn’s sighting was why I parked on the road and walked in through the trees. I didn’t want my presence to provoke the ass­hole into doing something stupid if he’d just come to admire his handi­work.”

He’d taken the gun because he knew both Vincent and Kyle had a firearms license and Evelyn hadn’t been able to tell him if the jogger she’d seen had been holding anything.

Anahera owed her life, at least partially, to the town gossip.

Anahera, too, had been trapped in an endless loop of police interviews. She hadn’t balked, not even when she was asked to repeat details for what felt like the ten billionth time. She’d do anything in her power to keep the world safe from Vincent.

Now, at long last, the two of them sat naked in Will’s bed, having stripped off each other’s clothes the instant after walking in the door. Anahera didn’t need to be a psychologist to know it was the need to celebrate life that had driven them to the most primal sex she’d ever experienced.

Limbs heavy in the aftermath, she sat with the sheet tucked up over her breasts while she bit chunks off a ­family-­size bar of chocolate she’d dug out from Will’s pantry. It was apparently courtesy of an elderly townswoman who thought he was too thin. He, in turn, was halfway through a cup of coffee so dark she’d worry it’d keep him up all night except that they were both so exhausted that sleep would come whether they wanted it or not.

“I didn’t delay helping you just to get more damning footage,” Will said.

“I know.” He wasn’t built that way. “I’d still be thanking you even if you had. Vincent needs to be locked up forever.”

Will rested his free hand on her ­sheet-­covered thigh. “He was so calm. I needed him unbalanced enough that he’d fall for a noise in the bushes and you would have time to get out of ­range—­then you said that about Miriama being missed.”

“I think his calmness through it all is what I’m having the hardest time handling.” Closing her own hand over his, she ran the pad of her thumb over his knuckle. “It’s as if his actions had no real impact on him.”

“I’m sure the prison shrinks will have a field day with him.” Will absently stroked her thigh. “They found Kyle’s body in the trunk of Kyle’s own ­car—­Vincent told us he intended to bury his brother far from Golden Cove, in another isolated section of bush.”

“Is he still insisting he had nothing to do with Miriama’s death?”

Nodding, Will said, “Shrinks are convinced he’s lying to himself because he killed the woman he ­loved—­as much as someone like Vincent can love.”

“You don’t agree?” Anahera put the unfinished chocolate bar on the side table.

“I don’t know.” Folding his arms behind his head, Will stared at the opposite wall. “He’s open about his other crimes to the point of bragging. Didn’t blink when walking me through how he pulled off his parents’ ­murder—­or how he slit Kyle’s throat. But he becomes enraged if I so much as mention Miriama in connection with his other crimes. Hasn’t once budged from saying he never hurt her.”

Anahera blew out a breath. “Is there anything you can do to find out if he’s lying or not?”

Will stared into the distance, but he was still there, just thinking. “Yes,” he said slowly before turning to look at her. “You’re going to have to trust me on what I’m about to ask you to do.”

“What’s the plan?”

62


Will took the first step while Anahera was in the bathroom throwing water onto her face to wake herself up for their planned excursion. He wanted to keep her out of this and out of possible danger until he had an answer for better or worse.

Picking up his phone, he input the call. “Evelyn,” he said when she answered. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I’m finalizing Miriama’s file and I didn’t want to bother Matilda or Dominic.” No lie there. “I was hoping you could help with some of the details.”

“Oh, of course,” the gossipy but ultimately kind woman said. “Mattie’s in no state to talk to anyone and that poor young doctor’s gone to pieces. What do you need?”

“It’d be useful if I could track down any X-­rays Miriama might’ve had done recently. My guess would be that Dominic was no longer her doctor.”

“Oh, that one’s easy. I ran into her once when she was catching the bus to go get a prescription for hay fever, I think it ­was—­I asked her why Domi­nic didn’t just write her one and she said there were rules about doctors dating patients.” A quick breath. “Anyway, she told me who she was off to see and I was happy for her. Dr. Symon is a lovely man, saw my cousin through a bad bout of shingles.”

“Do you have a full name for him?”

“Roger, I ­think… No, wait, it’s Richard. Dr. Richard Symon.”

That took care of the chain of ­evidence—­as long as Evelyn’s information was correct. If it wasn’t, he’d have to go to Matilda after all. And he’d have to break her heart ­again—­because she’d want to know why he was asking the question when Vincent had already been arrested.

“Thank you,” he said, and hung up before Evelyn could burst out with her own questions.

Now, to confirm the name without tipping his hand, or causing Matilda fresh suffering.

“Ready?” Anahera stepped out of the bathroom.

Will nodded. “Let’s go.”

They walked to their destination: the Golden Cove doctor’s surgery.

Breaking into it at night wasn’t exactly the Great Train Robbery. The only reason the place wasn’t regularly vandalized was probably because Dominic kept his drug samples locked up in an ancient metal filing cabinet so heavy you’d need a crane to lift it. The lock on the cabinet was all but impossible to pick.

The same couldn’t be said for the front door.

While Anahera stood as lookout, Will made short work of that lock and stepped inside.

He went straight to the ­less-­than-­new computer that held patient files.

This was where it could get tricky, but when he booted it up, it took him straight to the main page, no password required. That ­small-­town mentality again. It was, however, to his advantage this time around.

Quickly bringing up the file he wanted, he saw the words he’d expected to see: Patient file closed.

Below that was an explanatory note:

Miriama Hinewai Tutaia is switching to another general practitioner as she is in a personal relationship with me, the physician of record for Golden Cove. To be clear, she has never been my patient and I was not aware that she was on the practice’s roll at the time that we met. It appears she was enrolled at this surgery as a child, but has had no need to visit it in the past three years.

To maintain ethical lines and give her access to a primary physician who can keep track of her overall health, I have referred her to a fellow practitioner in the nearest town. Referral letter annotated to file.


Tags: Nalini Singh Mystery