“I don’t know what to do,” Dominic said when he opened the clinic door to Will, the brown of his irises startling against the bloodshot whites of his eyes and his jaw dark with stubble. “Nikau says I shouldn’t be stumbling around out there, that I should sit here and think of anything Miri might’ve said that could help find her.”

Will nodded, aware Dominic wasn’t much of an outdoorsman, and with his head so screwed up right now, he’d be more liability than help. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure.” Looking lost, the doctor led him inside into the examination room. Will took a seat in the patient chair, let Dominic sink into the doctor’s chair, in the hope the familiar surroundings would keep him calm.

The other man’s white shirt was wrinkled, his black pants the same. It might’ve been the same outfit he’d been wearing when Will stopped him on the road in the early morning darkness, but it was hard to ­tell—­Dominic wore the same thing every day to work, almost like a uniform. “When was the last time you saw Miriama?”

“Lunch yesterday.” Dominic leaned forward to brace his forearms on his thighs, his skin holding a warm depth of color.

Evelyn Triskell ­had—­unbidden—­shared that Dominic’s father was Indian, his mother Māori from one of the smaller North Island iwi. It was difficult to tell which culture held sway in Dominic; he was oddly colorless in his personality for a man who came from two such old and rich cultures.

“I went to the café,” the doctor added, “and asked Josie if I could steal Miri for an hour. It wasn’t so ­busy—­it isn’t this time of ­year—­and Josie had just come in after having the morning off.”

Will let Dominic ramble; at least the man was coherent this time around.

“Anyway, Josie said yes, even said it didn’t matter if we were a little late back. She was kind of teasing us about not getting caught making out.” He managed a shaky smile. “I’d prepared us a picnic basket with sandwiches and those tiny quiche things from the supermarket deli that Miri likes”—­a sudden, harsh sob before he regained control of ­himself—­“and we went to the eastern beach outlook with the little seat.”

“Sounds like a nice date.”

Dominic pushed up his glasses. “I never want her to regret being with me. I always want her to feel like she’s the most wonderful thing in my life.”

“How was her mood?”

“Good. Happy. She liked the picnic and she ate three of the quiches.” Shoving his hands through the tangled black strands of his hair, he stared down at the ­hard-­wearing beige carpet. “She was so happy, so bright. I kissed her and she was smiling and I felt like she was making me bright like her.”

Will took in the other man’s trembling frame and put a hand on his shoulder. “Dominic, you can’t panic,” he said, knowing he was asking the near impossible. “We don’t know anything yet.”

“Right.” It was a wet sound. “Right. I have to keep telling myself that.” Raising his head, he said, “I don’t know what else I can tell you. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out something that might help.”

Will released Dominic’s shoulder. “How about her upcoming move to Wellington to study? Have you two discussed it?”

“Sure. We’ve worked it out so she’ll come home during the holidays, and I’ll fly up to see her some weekends. We know it’ll be hard, but we’re serious about making it work.” He swallowed. “I’m so proud of her for winning that internship.”

“Were there any hard feelings about that? I know Kyle Baker was also on the short list.” A bit of a town golden boy, Vincent’s younger brother had been the favorite going in.

Dominic’s face tightened. “That twat Kyle tried to make it seem like Miri got it because of her looks, but her talent outstrips his by a mile. And the judges were all ­outsiders—­they weren’t biased in favor of Kyle just because everyone thinks he’s the great promise of this town, the shining star who can do no wrong.”

Will had seen that particular bias in action; he’d caught Kyle and another ­nineteen-­year-­old tagging a building, both with spray cans in hand. The townspeople had blamed the other boy for leading Kyle astray, asked Will to be lenient so Kyle wouldn’t end up with a record that might blight his future.

Will had given both young males a warning that there would be no second chance. Kyle had been remorseful, had even shut up his mate when the other boy went to mouth off. He definitely hadn’t come across as entitled or a brat, but that could simply mean he knew how to work people in authority. Or it could be that Dominic disliked him for giving Miriama such stiff competition. “Anyone else ever make Miriama uncomfortable?”

Dominic stared down at the carpet with unmoving focus. “You know how men look at her. I got used to ­that—­had to if I wanted to be with her, you know?—­but I think it bothers her sometimes. Nikau Martin stares at her all the fucking time.” A grimace. “He thinks he can get any woman he wants, but Miriama isn’t interested. She isn’t into anger or bitterness.”

Will’s mind flashed back to the other night in the pub and Nikau’s ­unhidden—­some might say ­predatory—­interest. Dominic was also right about the effect Miriama had on most of the men in this town. It was possible she’d drawn the attention of the wrong man without realizing it. And small as Golden Cove was, she probably knew that man and wouldn’t have felt any sense of danger if approached.

But there were other possibilities and he’d be a bad cop if he ignored them. No one had ever called him that, not even when his mistakes had led to two deaths. Will’s policework had been stellar; it was his understanding of human nature that had let him down. This time around, he’d dig down to the bone and tear apart shields until he knew every secret in this town.

18

“Have you two recently had a fight?”

Dominic’s head jerked up, shoulders knotting. “I’d never hurt her!”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Will said. “I’m wondering if Miriama is the kind of woman who might’ve taken off to teach you a lesson.”

Frown digging into his forehead, Dominic shook his head. “No,” he said. “That’s one of the things I love most about ­her—­she’s straight-­up honest.” He dropped his eyes to the carpet again, shoulders going limp. “I’ve never had to worry about lies with my Miri. If she’s mad at me, she just tells me to go take a hike. She’d never just run away and make me worry. And she wouldn’t make her aunt worry.”

Looking up, Dominic exhaled and the air came out in a tremor. “She’s tight with Josie at the café, too, and with Josie so close to her due date, Miri wouldn’t want to cause her any kind of stress. She’s even been talking about learning to knit so she can make socks for the baby.”

All of that meshed with what Will knew of Miriama. “Is there anything else you think I should know? It doesn’t matter if it’s a minor detail.”