by Bowes, K T
In the kitchen Logan made toast and Hana followed him around, balancing the still-feeding Phoenix in one arm. “Brilliant,” Logan admired, smiling at her. “Hey,” he said, “I suppose no one from the hotel has rung here lately?”
Hana shook her head slowly from side to side, sensing her husband’s pain. “Sorry love,” she said, resting her forehead against his upper arm. “Wouldn’t they ring your cell phone?”
“Ah, yeah. The men do but...it doesn’t matter.”
“I know, let’s go up for the weekend?” Hana suggested. “We can surprise Alfred and you can spend time healing. It’s been awful for both of you.”
Logan looked at her sideways. “I don’t know,” he said, “maybe we should warn him.”
Hana shook her head, thrilled with the idea. “No. Let’s just go.” She used the plan to distract herself from her task. She meant to go to the police station and withdraw her statement against Laval and if they headed off to the hotel tonight, she could avoid telling Logan. Nobody would find them and destroy her temporary illusion of safety. Hana was resolute. “Can you leave me the Honda today, please?” she asked. Logan, pulled a face, “Please, babe. Then I can run errands and we can go straight after you finish work.”
“I don’t feel like using the bike today,” Logan grumbled and Hana held her ground, needing a car to get to the police station in town. “We need to get rid of your truck,” she said, referring to Logan’s ancient Hilux which broke down a few weeks before. “Why don’t we buy something nice?”
Logan shrugged. “I can afford it but I don’t want to right now.” Somehow he didn’t have the energy. He sighed and Hana relented.
“Ok, another day then. We’ll go together and look at a nice ute when you feel up to it. But today I’ll run you to school and pick you up after. I’m nearly ready, look. Mrs Bugle-bum’s done.”
Logan smiled at her, comforted by her perception. Hana kissed his muscular arm through his shirt. “I get it Loge. The truck breaking down right after the deaths must seem like another vestige of your life abandoning you. It’s only a vehicle, but I get how stuff like that matters, especially now.”
Logan nodded and accepted Hana’s astute summary with gratitude. “It was the first thing I bought on returning to New Zealand, a second hand truck.” He smiled, his voice wistful. “I gave up on ever finding you and decided to settle in Aotearoa and bought a truck.”
“I know, babe.” Hana rubbed his bicep.
Contemplating his complicated personal life, hunger left him and Logan let his toast slide off the plate and into the bin.
Hana saw and her heart tightened in her chest, knowing whatever it cost her she needed to protect him from further hurt. She studied the smattering of grey hair becoming more noticeable in her husband’s sideburns. It looked sexy in that salt and pepper look, but she grieved how the last year had been so hard on him it had altered him physically and emotionally.
Logan drove to school and parked in the front car park in the same spot Hana used the day before. She eyed the space next to them, jumping when Logan repeated his question. “I asked if you wanted to meet me at lunchtime,” he asked again. “We can sit in the staffroom or go to my office.”
Hana didn’t want to hang around her former workplace like a reject groupie, but the sadness in Logan’s face filled her with compassion and she agreed to meet him back at school for the start of lunch at a quarter to one. He smiled and leaned across to kiss her, lingering as though he didn’t want to leave. Hana stroked his cheek and tried to infuse him with love and sincerity. “Have a good day darling. Look forward to the weekend.”
Logan left the vehicle, closing the door with a click behind him. Hana waved and climbed across the centre gap, checking her baby in the back seat. Phoenix slept soundly facing backwards, her full tummy rising and falling under the restraint straps and Hana smiled as she heard her gentle snore. She climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, changing the mirrors and the seat position after Logan’s long-legs. Hana reversed out of the space and pushed the gear lever into drive.
Another vehicle squeezed into the gap between Hana’s car and the exit, blocking her way. Although it was still early, the car parks around the school and small joining roads grew busy as parents buzzed in and out with their darling boys. Hana waited patiently, unable to see the driver through the tinted windows of the large SUV. Their driver’s doors were only a metre apart when the window buzzed down. Hana stared into Michael Laval’s face and her breath caught in her throat. “Hey gorgeous,” he mouthed, winking seductively at her.
Hana gaped, unable to reply. The window Logan left open rendered her vulnerable and she scrabbled at the switch to raise it. Laval looked handsome and deceptively innocuous. His suit was a light grey pinstripe and his shirt crisply ironed. Laval’s vehicle was higher than Hana’s and she glowered face for his benefit, lowering the back window by mistake. “Move your car!” she hissed.
He smiled. “Don’t be like that, beautiful. I wanted to know when you planned to do as you were told.” His words and facial expression didn’t match. He threatened her, but his face and body language appraised as she’d seen Logan assess a new foal – interested and curious, faintly appreciative but reserving judgment. Hana revved the car, inching forward towards his expensive side panel. Laval held her gaze, almost daring her to crunch into the side of him but at the last moment, he lurched his vehicle forwards into a space and Hana squealed out of the car park, alarming two boys crossing the side road. She pulled out onto Maui Street shaking. “He’s crazy,” she hissed to herself in panic, finally raising all the windows.
Hana avoided parking outside the main police station in Hamilton. There was a strict half hour restriction, which she knew she would exceed, but she didn’t want Laval to see her car and wait for her.
Hana parked behind a popular cafe near the bridge, dragging the pram from the boot and transferring the sleeping baby into it. “Stay asleep please baby,” she begged her floppy daughter. She strapped Phoenix into the pram and covered her with a blanket to stop the early morning coolness disturbing her.
Hana bought herself a coffee and sat for a while, figuring Detective Sergeant Odering wouldn’t be in before nine o’clock. Then she pushed the pram across the bridge and down the main road towards the police station, keeping a close eye on the traffic passing her. Using the ramp to the main doors, Hana clattered into the empty waiting area. A uniformed officer sat at the front desk, behind glass with a circle of small holes punched through. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” Hana shouted as the woman’s lips moved. “Please could I see Detective Sergeant Odering? It’s urgent.”
The woman humphed and denied he was available. “He’s not answering his phone,” she mouthed and Hana bridled.
“You haven’t tried it yet!” Defeated, she turned away and sat on the ripped plastic seating, determined to do what she came for. Rocking the pram to encourage Phoenix to sleep, Hana was rewarded by the appearance of the detective a few minutes later.
He greeted her with warmth, shaking hands and admiring the baby. “Well, this is a lovely surprise.”
Hana wasn’t prepared to discuss her business in the waiting area, in front of the receptionist and the four other people who arrived and watched her with interest. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” she asked.
Odering picked up her anxiety with a frown and walked her through a key code access door in the corner, leading her down numerous lengthy corridors to his office. “Take a seat,” he said, pulling up a chair. He went behind a desk littered with paperwork and folded himself into a substantial office chair. “How can I help you, Mrs Du Rose?” he asked, his voice light and pleasant.
Hana prickled at his kind demeanour, knowing she intended to ruin his day and probably even his year. She took a deep breath and began, “I need to withdraw my witness statement from all the stuff last year.” She folded her top lip under her teeth and tried not to show how utterly terrified she was.
> Odering sat back in his seat and studied her long enough for it to become uncomfortable. Hana shifted around and fiddled with a clip on the pram, bracing herself for the detective to shout. Surely he would shout at her. When she looked up with her huge green eyes, she found him still reviewing her. Claustrophobia hit Hana and brought breathlessness with it, making her seek escape. The window faced the brick wall of another building and the strip lighting was harsh and unforgiving. Hana stood up, keeping her hand on the pram handle. “If you wouldn’t mind showing me what I have to sign, I’d like to go, please?”
Hana worked her jaw, seeing Odering lean forward in his seat and still waiting for the rebuke. He reached around under the paperwork mountain and his hand emerged with a pack of bright pink post-it notes. He slapped one down in front of her, adding a pen he found in a drawer. Hana’s breath came in heaves as he smiled at her with kindness. “Pop your signature on there then,” he said, “and I’ll deal with it.”
Hana eyed him warily, seizing the pen and scribbling her signature on the pink paper. Her hand shook and the pen slipped on the shiny surface. When she looked at it, it didn’t even look like her name. Hana moved towards the pram, hoping Odering would lead her back to the exit but he remained seated, observing her as though she was a specimen under a microscope.
Hana jumped as he leaned across the desk and seized the pad and pen. The pen, he threw back into the desk drawer but he studied her signature on the pad with frightening intensity. Hana drew in a sharp intake of breath as he screwed it up into a tight ball and lobbed it into a dustbin behind the desk. She heard the paper make a ting sound as it hit the metal sides. When she tried to swallow, she realised her mouth was open and shut it with a snap, her tongue dry. Her hand on the pram shook and desperation coursed through her blood. “I have to go,” she gasped.
The memory of Laval jumped into Hana’s mind and she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to get control so the detective didn’t see her fear. When she opened them Odering leaned back, his arms resting behind his head and his hands clasped. His shirt sleeves were rolled casually up to his elbows and his arms were brown and tanned. “Please,” pleaded Hana, “I have to do this.”
Odering popped suddenly forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the desk. “Should I get someone from Witness Protection to talk to you?” His voice was surprisingly gentle.
Hana stamped her foot like a child, embarrassed by her behaviour, but unable to halt in her desperation to prevent Laval going after Logan. “No! I need to retract my statement and not give evidence against Laval. It can’t happen!”
Hana stared into the pram at her baby. Phoenix, fully awake, stared at her mother in unveiled curiosity. Her eyes were grey as grit and Hana watched her, mystified. When did they change? Phoenix observed her from the pram with Logan’s eyes and failure greeted Hana.
She gritted her teeth and wrenched open the door. Odering’s expression mocked her and she needed to get out. Hana rived the brake off the back wheel and shoved the pram into the narrow corridor, bumping the wall. A hand on her shoulder froze her in place and Odering pulled the pram back inside the office and closed the door. “Hana,” he said, keeping his hand on her shoulder and feeling her trembling underneath it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was trying to work out what’s going on.”
He indicated the seat Hana recently vacated and invited her to sit, but Hana couldn’t. At first she paced up and down behind the chair while Odering peered over his snowstorm of paper and then, as Phoenix grizzled, she paced patting her child’s back. “You don’t understand,” she repeated. “I have to do this!”
“It’s not that simple,” Odering said again. “You’ll still be called as a witness but classed as hostile. That’s all that will change.”
Hana ran her hand over her face in abject misery. “It’s not fair,” she whined, “you don’t understand!”
“Then help me!” Odering shouted, snapping and getting to his feet. He towered over Hana. “Help me, Hana!”
She stood still, her pacing and ranting temporarily ceased.
“Let’s play twenty questions,” Odering suggested, “and if you don’t want to answer the question, you can pass, but you have to answer the following one. Deal?”
Hana ran her free hand over her forehead, sweating even though it wasn’t yet hot in the office. She nodded.
“Fine,” said Odering. “First question, does Logan know about this?”
Hana shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened. “No!” she said, hysterically. “And he mustn’t!”
“Ok,” countered Odering, “are you in danger?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Hana, revising her answer, “not yet.”
Odering nodded. “Is someone else in danger?”
Hana cringed and held the baby to her chest. She rested her other hand on the pram handle and her knuckles whitened. Her breaths were short and raspy and she couldn’t answer.
“You can pass if you want,” Odering said, having laid his trap.
Hana rounded on him, her green eyes rasping with anger. “But then you’ll ask it another way round. And I must tell you. And I can’t!”
Chapter 11
Despite having held it together for the last twenty-four hours, Hana fought tears rubbing near the surface of her eyelids and her resolve snapped. Keeping Phoenix over her shoulder, she wrenched the door open and rammed the pram through, hitting the wall on the other side of the hallway. She wheeled from the room trying to retrace her steps, but getting lost inside the enormous police station. “Please can you help me find the exit?” she sniffed to a male police officer in full anti-stab vest and tool belt.
“Sure, love,” he said with a pleasant smile and led her to the main office, letting her through the heavy door into the waiting area.
Hana looked back as she shoved the pram the steep steps and saw Odering watching her through the glass security door. He studied her, his face unreadable and his hands shoved into his pockets as though casually waiting for a bus and not watching one of his star witnesses running away from her responsibility.
“Sorry,” Hana whispered as a tear escaped down her face. She brushed it away and jogged back along the bridge with Phoenix into the pram. The baby burped during the frantic trip through the annals of Hamilton police headquarters, leaving a line of white barf along the carpet. Hana laid the baby on her side and covered her up, overwhelmed by love as the tiny girl tucked her left arm under her face and balled up her fist. “You sleep like Daddy,” she breathed, the sobs coming thick and fast.
Hana trotted back to the cafe by the bridge and ordered herself another coffee, too shaky to drive home. She tucked the pram in beside her in the corner and rocked it with her foot. The morning rush of commuters demanding their caffeine fix ended and Hana had the place to herself to calm down. The coffee arrived and she burned her mouth trying to drink it. She sat with her fingers pressed into the bridge of her nose, taking stock of her disastrous trip to the police station. “Are you all right?” the barista asked her and Hana jumped and nodded. “Yes thanks,” she sniffed, drying her eyes on her blouse. “I just made a dreadful mess of something.”
The doorbell jangled and Hana sensed the draught of warm air as someone entered the cafe. She reached into the change bag underneath the pram for a tissue, resting her foot on the rung underneath the chair next to her. When the chair was yanked out, Hana’s foot hit the floor and her elbow knocked into her cup, slopping coffee onto the table.
“What are you doing?” Hana gasped as Laval sat down next to her. He slipped into the seat as though it was the most natural thing in the world to have coffee with the stunning redhead.
“Hello beautiful,” he breathed with a lovely smile.
Hana looked around for help, trapped in the corner. Laval reached for a serviette and mopped up the mess, ordering another coffee for Hana as the barista brought his over. She tried to catch the girl’s eye, her efforts fruitless as the handsome blonde man wooed
and cajoled her. Please help me, Hana pleaded with her eyes, her exertions wasted.
“Go away!” Hana hissed at Laval as he finally turned his stunning smile in her direction. He looked at her with his head on one side as though faintly offended. When he reached out for her shaking hand, Hana pushed him away, saying louder, “Touch me and I’ll scream this place down!”
“Hana, Hana, Hana,” he soothed, his blonde fringe flipping into his eyes. “Let’s not be like this.” He opened his hands, palms upwards, placating her with his body language. He was so plausible Hana’s confused brain reassured her this wasn’t really happening.
“Please let me go?” she pleaded, her eyes wide. “Leave us alone.”
A couple came into the cafe, jingling the bell as they sauntered in holding hands. The man looked familiar and Hana contemplated calling out to him. Her brain slowed and addled as the barista brought her fresh coffee over, clearing away her cup and swimming saucer. “Excuse me,” Hana faltered, “please could you...”
“Fetch her a cookie,” Laval interjected, hauling Hana’s reluctant body into his side. “She’s hungry.” He flashed his winning smile and dropped a twenty dollar note onto the table. “Keep the change,” he said.
The girl nodded and collected the note as Hana gave up any hope of escape. “Accept your fate, darling,” Laval said and kissed her on the temple.
Hana ran a hand over her face, nauseated by his proximity. Stress increased her heart rate and she wondered why nobody else in the cafe picked up the waves of misery coursing through her. Everyone got on with their business, the cafe staff restocking the depleted cabinets, the barista letting off steam from the coffee maker and the couple across from Hana chatting with their heads bent low towards each other. Nobody looked her way. She noticed the couple drank from take-away cups and contemplated leaving when they did. But when they didn’t move, she gave up hope.
Desperation widened Hana’s eyes and she stared at the waitress as she delivered the cookie, desperate to get her attention. Laval’s lips were moving, but she couldn’t concentrate on his silky voice. “What do you want?” she hissed, pushing his hand off her thigh. She couldn’t work out if he fancied her or played a game to keep her calm, like Logan wooed and caressed the horses before he laid the unwelcome saddle on their backs.
