Page 21 of Bay of Plenty

Declan’s police instinct was to calm the friction, but I knew I had to keep pushing, even if it was painful. I joined Declan at the piano and lingered over the holiday photos. “So you’re off to Fiji?”

“Yes, splashing out,” Mrs.Tohu said.

I teased her, saying that she’d finally get to use her sarong collection. “Congratulations. I’m happy the sale paid off.”

Mr.Tohu looked wary. “We were happy with the price, but fair dues, it was a nice bit of property.”

“Oh, come on, darling,” his wife said. “The winery is next to our pig farm, and it’s smelly and muddy. We’re used to it, but it wasn’t like we could have sold it to a property developer.”

And yet, it sounded like Snow hadn’t used this to negotiate a favorable price. He must have wanted it quickly.

Half an hour later, we were driving away.

“That was worth it, wasn’t it?” I asked Declan.

“That property developer comment might indicate Snow paid more than it was worth,” Declan said.

We passed the winery. High electric fences surrounded the property, broken only by an arched gate at the front.

“Over-the-top security—suspicious,” Declan said. A huge copper plate featured the insignia I’d seen last night on the wine bottles—a bunch of grapes, the beach, and the whale-shape of Motu. Beyond were acres of hills, corduroyed with green vines.

Bevan was calling. The flash of her name on my phone’s screen was a sharp, justified rebuke, sending a turmoil of shame through me. My heart heavy, I put her on speaker.

“You’re calling to give me a massive bollocking, aren’t you?” I held my breath.

“The worst thing is, they were so excited about seeing you. You basically interviewed them without their consent. That’s sneaky and manipulative.”

I glanced at Declan. His brow crinkled sympathetically, and he put a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, honestly,” I said. “I promise you it’s important. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“What are you up to? It’s about the winery, isn’t it? You need to tell me. You already said it—if I start looking into this, the locals will speak to me first.”

I looked to Declan for what I could confirm or deny at this point. He shook his head. I took a minute to form my words. It would insult her intelligence to pretend nothing at all was happening. “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss it.”

She huffed in disbelief. “I need your assurance that my parents aren’t mentioned in any way.”

I didn’t need to look to Declan for this one. “Bev, your parents are sweet, lovely people. But you know a journalist can’t make assurances like that.”

“But your parents are involved too. Everyone knows they loaned the money to Snow. Isla, you are a—”

“What?” I asked, my heart leaping into my throat. “What am I? Ballbuster, shark, witch? I’ve heard them all, especially from the men I’ve dealt with.” Declan gave a sensitive nod. Offering his support in a quiet way.

“I was going to say you’re a good journalist,” she said quietly.

My pulse stuttered, grateful. “Bevan, I’m so sorry I upset you. You and your parents mean a lot to me. I’m trying to do the right thing here. But I know my behavior seems harsh.”

“Very.” She huffed with frustration. “I hope it’s worth it.”

Declan touched my hand as we drove home. “This job is bloody hard.”

He knew what to say to make me feel I’d done the right thing. His sympathy seemed sincere, but was it part of his job description?

My phone pinged with a text.

Kui:Can you pop into the library? URGENT.

Chapter Thirteen

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