One Heartbeat Page 10

  “Thank you, Mr Du Rose,” she said pleasantly and flicked her hair in that way sexy women do, just by tossing their head. Then she walked to the vehicle behind them without a backward glance. Tama watched for a second, utterly captivated and then climbed back into the Honda. It made a dreadful noise as he forgot it was still running and turned the key again. Hana looked at him with indignation. “Sorry, sorry,” Tama said, pulling away in a jerky, kangaroo motion.

  “Do I need to get the learner plates out again?” Hana asked, seeing the embarrassment on her nephew’s face. Her lips parted in surprise and she nibbled her lower lip at his telling glance in the rear view mirror. “Oh my gosh!” It dawned on her. “Did Tama Du Rose just fall in love?”

  Tama looked away with a grumpy expression and muttered a swear word. He felt a peculiar rush of emotions and didn’t understand. “I’ve got enough problems right now, thanks, the first being to get Uncle Logan alone so I can do a mass confession and then run like the clappers!”

  Hana snorted and Tama felt grateful she seemed more amused with his dilemma than frightened for Logan. He glanced in the mirror again at the long chocolate hair dancing in the wind and the neatly curved physique under the police issue uniform. He suddenly felt unusually vulnerable for a Du Rose.

  Chapter 8

  Tama unloaded the Honda and put their bags into the staff unit. Hana left it tidy on Friday, so there was just putting away to do. She had become adept at switching location and it was finished within a few minutes. “I got Logan’s voicemail,” Hana said, her face pinched with concern. “I left him a message saying I hoped he was all right.”

  “Don’t read anything into it,” Tama said with a sympathetic smile. “He’s probably teaching.”

  Hana nodded and checked her watch. The police activity was concentrated on the boarding house and she fought her fluttering heart. Now she felt calmer, she knew Tama was right and if Logan was hurt, the lady-cop at the gate would have recognised the name on her driving licence and pulled her aside. “Du Rose isn’t a common name, is it?” she asked Tama for the tenth time and he smiled with infinite patience.

  “No, Ma, it isn’t.”

  Hana heard the lunchtime bell in the distance and a few minutes later, jumped at a knock on the door. With wide green eyes, she rushed over and wrenched it open in panic. Amanda stood on the step, her eyes alight with the scent of scandal and gossip. “Let me in,” she gushed. “I know what’s going on.”

  Hana’s next door neighbour job shared with another teacher’s wife on a half day rotation as the principal’s personal assistant. It suited her following the scandal of her cheating husband’s departure; her confidence had doubled while her buxom figure halved. It also meant she knew everything that went on in the main building.

  “Hey,” Hana greeted her, accepting her hug and standing back to let her in. “We haven’t been back long. I’ve been worrying about what’s going on, in case it’s Logan.” Hana’s brow knitted and she chewed her bottom lip in a fit of nervousness. It was killing her not rushing over to the boarding house and finding her husband. After the threats against Logan by Laval months earlier and the lengths Hana went to keeping him safe, she’d realised a deep-seated fear of losing him as she lost Vik almost a decade ago. What was the quote? ‘To lose one husband is accidental; to lose two is carelessness.’

  Amanda shook her head and cruelly kept Hana waiting, taking over the small kitchen and pulling a sachet of soup from her handbag. She flicked the kettle on to boil and leaned her backside against the counter top. “I shouldn’t be gossiping,” she said with a naughty wink and Hana knew that she would anyway. “Logan’s absolutely fine, but he and Compo from the horticulture department found a body in the compost trench behind the boarding house. I answered the phone to Logan when he rang Angus. I thought he was snippy with me, but I guess it was understandable.” She pouted as though Logan’s temperament mattered to her.

  “Whose body is it?” Hana asked her voice almost a whisper. “Is it someone we know?”

  Amanda shrugged. “Dunno. The cops are in and out but Angus isn’t talking to anyone else. Parents have been ringing since morning teatime.”

  “Poor Logan,” Hana breathed. “That must have been a terrible thing to find.”

  “He sounded more annoyed than anything,” Amanda said with a toss of her long hair. Something in the way she said it made Hana bristle inwardly, sensing a possessiveness in the way she spoke about Logan.

  “He might have been wound up,” Hana said, biting her lip.

  “Probably. He’s usually so sweet to me,” Amanda said and smiled at Hana. “Oh, please could you send him round later? I’ve spent all weekend with the loft hatch banging in the wind.”

  “I could probably stand on a kitchen chair and shut it,” Hana offered.

  Amanda shook her head. “Thanks, but it’d be best if he did it. The bolt’s rusted, or I’d have done it myself.”

  “They replaced them all when they renovated a few months ago,” Hana said, frowning as she tried to remember. “They did ours anyway.”

  Amanda flapped her hand in Hana’s direction and turned to fill her mug with hot water, bashing the mixture with a teaspoon. “It’s fine. I’ve got some other bits I need doing.”

  Hana watched her friend’s back with a sense of unease; she’d been here before with Caroline. Logan rolled his eyes every time Hana gave him one of Amanda’s requests for help. “I’m not the bloody maintenance man!” he snapped last time and Hana defended her friend, advocating for a woman who’d lost so much.

  Amanda didn’t really know very much about the body in the compost heap, but spent half an hour speculating before it was time to get her daughter, Millie, from the nursery on Maui Street. Tama stayed out of the way while the women chatted, playing with Phoenix in Hana’s bedroom. Occasionally the sound of raspberries on a fat little tummy and excited baby giggles drifted through the tiny unit to the lounge. “Māori men are incredibly good with their children aren’t they?” Amanda said wistfully, generalising. She eyed the door hopefully but Tama didn’t appear.

  “Not all of them,” Hana replied, thinking of Michael and Kane and a list of other Du Roses. Amanda ignored her wisdom.

  “Maybe that’s what I need; a tall, good looking Māori guy who’s comfortable around children.”

  Hana pulled a face and shrugged. “I don’t think you can go looking for love with a shopping list,” she muttered.

  As Amanda breezed through the front door with a wave goodbye, Hana noticed the police activity seemed calmer at the boarding house. “I’m just nipping across to St Bart’s,” she called to Tama. “Please watch Phoe for a little while.” She heard his muted reply and walked briskly across the cricket and rugby pitch as a shortcut, looking over her shoulder for the officious Larry Collins who might be watching her boot heels march across the crease. Hana found her husband in the office on the ground floor. Housed in one way glass, the office enjoyed three unimpeded views of the corridors and served as a vantage point for misbehaviour. Boys were easily fooled into believing their antics were unseen. Unfortunately, Logan’s deputy manager had a tendency to use the inside as a grooming cubicle, picking his nose and belly button with abandon, whilst watching others walk past.

  “Hey, Hana, how are you?” the sweet admin assistant asked as she passed the reception desk.

  “Good thanks,” Hana replied. “Looks like you’ve had a busy day.”

  The woman rolled her eyes under dark rimmed spectacles. “Yeah, you could say that.” She inhaled as the telephone trilled next to her hand and Hana smiled and set off down the corridor. She heard half of the conversation as she walked away. “No, none of our boys are in any danger; your son’s absolutely fine.”

  Hana knocked and entered the office, finding her husband sitting in a swivel chair with his boot resting on the desk. His right hand moved a computer mouse silently over a pad, scrolling through a spreadsheet of names. “Hey, babe,” Hana said, her brain hard wired to
detect trouble. “What’s going on?”

  Logan’s smile revealed his tiredness. His hair stuck up on end where he’d run his hand continually through it and black waves flipped over his lashes. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed exhaustion. The phone rang on the desk next to him and he shook his head and ignored it.

  “Mary looked like she was struggling too,” Hana said, jerking her head towards the phone. “It might be her.”

  Logan shook his head. “It won’t be. She’s stopped putting them through; I can’t tell them anything different so what’s the point.”

  “Parents?” Hana asked, feeling the urge to defend the army of men and women concerned for their precious children.

  Logan nodded. “And journalists.”

  The phone stopped and then began again, its irritating trill cutting the air like the sound of a wasp. Hana leaned across her husband and grabbed the handset. “St Bart’s office,” she said with a professionalism born of practice. Logan raised an eyebrow and slipped his hand up the back of her blouse, biting her lips as she tried to ignore him. “No, madam. No boys are in danger and the police are dealing with all information releases.” Hana paused to listen to the tearful mother on the other end of the line. She shivered as Logan’s hands worked forward until he cupped one of her full breasts in his palm, smirking at her with a lazy expression. The phone cord wouldn’t stretch enough for Hana to stand up, leaving her exposed to her husband’s sensual exploration. “Yes, I understand your son might be texting you, but he really doesn’t know anything. It’s honestly just teenage exaggeration. I’m sorry, I need to go,” Hana said, biting back a groan as Logan found his way into the maternity bra, discovering to his delight that it opened at the front. With a sigh of pleasure, he shamelessly caressed the breasts which spilled into his hand.

  Hana replaced the handset and shoved her husband’s shoulder, grappling to contain herself in her gaping underwear. “You’re awful!” she exclaimed, squeaking in fright as a group of boys wandered past the window.

  Logan laughed and rubbed his eyes, disappointment making him wrinkled his nose. “They can’t see you,” he said, running his hands over the back of his head. Hana pressed her shameless breasts back into the bra and fastened the clasp.

  “You’ve got a headache,” she said, recognising the telltale signs as Logan pressed his temples.

  “Yep,” he replied with a nod. “Hardly surprising after this morning.”

  “Well, office sex is hardly the best cure,” Hana said, straightening her shirt.

  “It might have helped.” Logan smirked and gave her a coy look.

  “You’re a worry,” she replied. “I’ll give you a cuddle instead.” She slapped his boot to make him take his leg off the table and plonked herself in his lap, cuddling in to his strong body. She laid her head on his shoulder and allowed him to put his arms around her, jabbing him in the ribs when his hands wandered. The stress of the day seemed to melt away in the silence.

  Hana jumped at a knock on the door, making Logan grunt as she elbowed him in the stomach. Bodie didn’t wait for an answer, turning the handle and opening the door without permission. He raised his eyebrows at Hana and turned to shut the door after him, looking disappointed to find she didn’t use the opportunity to stand up. “Tama said you were over here,” he said waving his arm in Hana’s general direction, but not looking at the couple. His face grew flushed as he stared at the notice board on the back wall. “We’ve cleared up, so it’s business as usual. I’m off now but Odering wants to see both of you.”

  “Wants to have another little go at me, does he?” Logan said and Hana’s heart sank at the antagonism in his voice.

  Bodie shrugged. “I’m not responsible for what he does; he’s the boss. It was pretty dumb to let the other guy puke all over the crime scene though, I know he’s upset about that.”

  Logan shook his head and glared at Hana’s son. “Yeah, but being first on the scene you could see my difficulty. Thanks for standing up for me.”

  “Oh, did you stand up for him?” Hana addressed her son, looking pleased.

  “No, he didn’t!” Logan spat. “Joined in actually.”

  Hana looked away from the men and closed her eyes, a familiar path opening up in front of her. Fantastic!

  Bodie weathered the agony of watching his mother sitting on the strong, Māori’s knee but struggled to get eye contact. “Can Jas spend time with you tomorrow, Mum? I have an early shift and Amy on lates. His school has a teacher only day so we’re stuck.”

  Hana saw his jaw work though his cheek, his eyes flashing with a darkness she didn’t like. “It’s fine,” she replied, forcing a smile onto her lips. “Will you drop him here?”

  “Amy will,” Bodie said, looking relieved. “It’s only for a couple of hours during the crossover, about one o’clock until three at most.” He turned to leave and then glanced back, his teeth gritting at the sight of Logan caressing his mother’s thigh. “By the way, Odering’s acting inspector on this. He’s being picky about it, getting dirty at anyone who still calls him ‘sergeant.’ Just so you know.”

  Logan’s face lit up with a smirk and Hana slapped his leg, knowing he’d do it deliberately to antagonise the policeman. “Hey, who was that police woman at the back gate?” she asked. “She’s very pretty.”

  “Lucy,” Bodie answered. “She just broke up with her boyfriend and mentioned she saw a hot guy with you. I guess you’re asking for that nephew of yours?”

  Hana nodded and opened her mouth to speak, cut off by Bodie’s abrupt warning. “She’s a nice girl; tell him to stay away.” Bodie left without glancing back, slamming the door behind him.

  Hana sat and watched her son through the mirrored glass as he strode past reception. Heaviness weighed her down, feeling the bones of Logan’s thighs digging into her bottom. “You’ve both been play acting friendly to please me, haven’t you?”

  Logan humphed and pulled a nasty face. “Yeah, Hana.” His tone was biting. “Your son’s a spoiled little jerk and I was happy to play along, despite his attitude, until this morning. Now he can go to hell.”

  Hana leaned back so she could look into Logan’s face. He kept his eyes averted, but she sensed rage brewing under the surface, a steady rumble just before the earthquake began. “I don’t think he has a problem with you personally; I think it’s an issue of me being with you. He’ll get over it.”

  Logan laughed outright, a nasty sound with no mirth in it. He pushed Hana gently off his lap and stood, indicating her visit was over. “Logan?” she asked, perplexed.

  He moved to another desk in the corner and began sifting through papers, making a pretence of looking for something. Hana foolishly pressed him. “Logan, you’ve said it now. I can’t walk away without you finishing what you’ve started. I thought things were ok and it seemed better. He’d be like this with any new husband I chose; it’s not you.”

  Logan rounded on her and she was alarmed by the misery in his face which went deeper than she realised. “But it’s one-sided, Hana, can’t you see that? I honoured the truce between us but he never intended to. I’m ‘the spare’ to him, not good enough to take over from the sainted Vikram Johal and I’m tired of being an undesirable addition who’s tolerated and utilised. I’m good enough to look after his kid when he’s desperate and he has to be really desperate, Hana. I love Jas, but his father’s a dick. I’ll never be welcome in his precious family and I’ve given up kidding myself.”

  Hana had rarely seen Logan so upset, especially enough to expose his pain to her. “Did something happen?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” She tried to reach out to him but he dodged her outstretched hand and slammed a bunch of papers on the desk.

  “I need to supervise dinner in the dining room.” Logan stormed from the office, leaving her standing there alone as the door whacked a cabinet and jarred on its hinges. Hana felt miserable.

  “Great,” she muttered to herself. “And God help any boy who pushes you too far. They’ll be
on detention so long, they’ll turn up with their wives and children.”

  Hana left St Bart’s with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Arriving home she found Tama juggling Phoenix in one arm and a bowl of hot baby rice in the other. The baby grizzled as she smelled the disgusting cement-like mixture and wanted it. Hana took her and gave her a breastfeed while the rice cooled, squirming as she remembered the soft sensation of Logan’s fingers on her sensitive skin. “Tama Du Rose, you’ll make someone a lovely husband one day,” she sighed. “You’re incredibly capable.”

  He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m going to confess to Uncle Logan. I was just waiting for you to come back.”

  “Oh, that’s a bad idea at the moment. He’s not in the best of moods and he’s supervising tonight’s food fight. Just leave it for now.” Hana grimaced at the thought of Logan’s anger. “We don’t need two dead bodies on site,” she joked, remembering Logan’s furious expression and trying to curb Tama’s misplaced heroism.

  “I’ve seen the very best and worst of my favourite uncle; I’ll be fine. And if he’s wound up anyway, you won’t be able to blame me when he comes home angry.” He seemed philosophical and Hana feared for him.

  She gave a huge sigh as the front door slammed and Phoenix stopped feeding and gave her a gummy smile. Hana laughed. “You know how to cheer me up, don’t you girlie?” she said and the child beamed. Hana fed her daughter the rice, giggling at the mess they made and then bathed her, breast fed her and put her into her cot. Phoenix sang to herself in bed and drifted off to sleep. Hana put the TV on but saw nothing. Bored, she rang her daughter in Invercargill on her mobile, only to get Marcus instead.

  “Izzie’s at a church,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Hana lied, hearing her son-in-law’s snuff of disbelief across the miles. She relented and confessed to the astute cleric. “Logan said something odd before, about Bodie not wanting him around and I wanted to ask Izzie if she knew anything about it.”