New Du Rose Matriarch

by Bowes, K T

  “Until I start talking tomorrow, I won’t know,” Hana said, her eyes unfocused and distant. Then she turned to face Logan, looking into his dark grey irises. “Can I ask you something?”

  Logan pressed his lips together and bowed his head, knowing the question before she asked. “You can ask, but I might not answer. It’s not my secret.”

  Hana lay back against the pillows. “Fair enough,” she said, “but were you and Laval friends through school?”

  “L’Huillier, yes,” Logan said with a nod, shifting the wriggling infant so she was more stable.

  “Did your sister meet him through you?”

  Logan took a deep breath in and shut his eyes before answering so quietly she struggled to hear. “Yes.”

  “Did she have a good reason for divorcing him?”

  “Yes.” Certainty dominated Logan’s answer.

  “Can you tell me what it was?” Hana pressed.

  “No.” Logan’s gritted his teeth, giving his face an angular shape. “I won’t.”

  Hana looked stung as she reached the impasse. Logan said ‘I won’t,’ not ‘I can’t’ and she acknowledged she didn’t want her husband and his brutal-lawyer-sister to have secrets that didn’t include her. After a long silence Hana asked, “Am I doing the right thing, talking to Odering about Laval?”

  Logan’s expression left no doubt about the surety of his reply. His eyes glittered dangerously. “Hell, yes! You must do this, Hana.”

  Odering’s conducted his interview with formal precision the next morning. Bodie produced a recorder which lay on the table between them like a threat, making Hana more nervous than it should. Alfred took her sleeping infant for a walk in the pram and Hana sat on the edge of the sofa in the family room, twisting her fingers, the bandage looking grubby with its awful leakage.

  “Under no circumstances are we to be disturbed,” Logan told Leslie, accepting the tray of tea and closing the door on her retreating back.

  Bodie worked the recorder and made notes while Odering demonstrated his skill, pulling answers from Hana she hadn’t realised were there. “From the very beginning, Mrs Du Rose,” Odering said with a deceptive gentleness in his voice. “When did you first meet the man we shall refer to as Michael Laval?”

  Hana told her story, unable to look at her husband as she recounted the meetings during which Laval touched her, kissed her and behaved with unnerving familiarity. She enjoyed Odering’s embarrassment as she recalled her visit to his office and his game of twenty questions, noticing the look of horror on Bodie’s face and the glance of dark menace Logan gave the detective.

  Then came the question Hana anticipated with dread, knowing it was her own fault. “Last night you mentioned Laval claimed to be your sister-in-law’s husband,” Odering said. His eyes glinted with hidden enjoyment and Hana felt Logan’s thigh tense on the seat next to her. She took a deep breath in and prayed for absolution, wondering if God offered forgiveness for those who warned him they were about to lie their heads off.

  “No,” she replied, feigning confusion, “I don’t believe I did.”

  The detective’s eyes flashed and Bodie looked at his mother with open curiosity. Both men looked at Logan, holding Hana’s hand with his face and body impassive.

  “This is an essential piece of evidence, Mrs Du Rose,” Odering pressed. “There’s a record of their marriage and if we don’t investigate it, Laval’s defence will! Eliza Du Rose is a high court judge...”

  Hana raised her hand. “Please don’t browbeat me,” she said, invoking fake confidence into her voice. “He didn’t mention any marriage to me.” She smiled sweetly and got to her feet.

  “But Mrs Du Rose!” Odering stood also, raising his voice in frustration.

  “I’ve told you the facts,” Hana said with dignity. “I’ve nothing else to say. Are we done now?” As all three men gaped, Hana stroked Logan’s hair and left the room.

  Odering nodded once at Bodie and the young man followed his mother. The detective sergeant blocked the doorway preventing Logan’s exit and they engaged in a furious argument, their height and determination equalled. Hana stopped as the ruckus began and turned in the hallway, finding her son right behind her. “Mum!” he shouted in temper. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Hana stared her son, knowing he didn’t understand. “Just trust me?” she begged, not surprised when he batted her answer away.

  “Like hell I will!” he yelled. His dark face radiated fury and Hana bit back a wave of sadness, wondering when his loyalties became so mercenary and skewed. You’re like your father, she wanted to say, smothering a thought which wasn’t intended as a compliment. Hana held her ground in the face of Bodie’s rage.

  “As well as being your witness, I’m also your mother and don’t you forget it!” She jabbed her index finger into his chest. “I’ve given my statement as promised, but I won’t bring other family members into this. Odering’s looking for spin to discredit a judge who’s ruled against him four times and he won’t get his ammunition from me.” Hana saw her son flinch at the accuracy of her words. “I do my research too,” she said, her voice calm. She took a step into Bodie’s personal space, forcing him to look down at her while she delivered her loaded threat. “If you persist in pushing me, I won’t sign my statement. You’ll have to treat an alleged victim as a hostile witness. How will that work in court for you?”

  She flounced along the passageway, her floral dress swinging above the backs of her knees. Logan stood in the doorway, feeling the urge to cheer and clap as Hana’s shapely legs waltzed through his empire. Odering threw his notepad across the sitting room as Logan smirked, loving the new Du Rose matriarch with all his heart. He added loyalty to his mental list of Hana’s virtues.

  Bodie found Hana in Miriam’s garden. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “We’re leaving now.”

  Hana knelt in the grass plucking ugly weeds from the baked soil. She struggled to her feet, accepting her son’s outstretched hand. Brushing the dust from her knees Hana waited for him to speak. “You’ve changed, Mum,” he said and Hana heard the accusation in his tone.

  “Not really,” she replied, moving backwards to sit on the bench. “I’ve just found myself. I lost the person I was before Vik and now I’ve found her.” Hana brushed hair from her eyes and smiled. “She’s more selfish than I remember and definitely has balls. I forgot those attributes.”

  Bodie slumped next to her, hitching the legs of his smart blue work trousers before he settled on the wooden seat. “I didn’t realise you’d lost yourself,” he said, leaning forwards on his knees and staring at the dusty ground beneath his feet. “Was it so very soul destroying?” Bodie asked and Hana looked at him without understanding. “Losing so much of yourself marrying Dad and raising us? What’s different with Logan? What’s so good about him that Dad didn’t give you the same?”

  Hana sighed. This game exhausted her, skirting around the sainted Vikram Johal’s memory and doing her best to keep his honour intact when he successfully destroyed her, even after death. She reached the end of the road and stepped into the unknown with her son, knowing things would never be the same again. “Logan’s faithful. I’d trade every moment with your father in exchange for that.”

  Hana waited for a moment after the wave of realisation hit, expecting the buildings of Bodie’s life to come crashing down around her, spreading their debris far and wide. But there was nothing. She looked sideways at her son, head down and his shoes scuffing in the dirt under his feet. “You knew?”

  When Bodie raised his head, his dark eyes glittered with unshed tears, ages old. He carried everything she once felt, guilt, betrayal, anger and dismay. He nodded. “It’s why I didn’t cope with his death so well,” he said and Hana leaned in to hear him. “I went off the rails because I was mad at him. All that pretence of a great family, pillars of the church. It was a lie.”

  “A woman came to see me, the day after the funeral,” H
ana said. “She told me Vik planned to leave the day before he died. Apparently they had a holiday booked so he could wait until the dust settled to ask for joint custody of you and Izzie.”

  Bodie nodded his head again. “Yeah. I figured it was coming; they seemed pretty serious.”

  “You knew her? How?”

  Bodie snorted with derision. “I walked to his office every Monday and Wednesday after basketball practice for a ride home. One time I walked in on them kissing and had to pretend I didn’t see. I’ve spent the last nine years feeling guilty I never told you but then so much time passed, it seemed too late. What would it achieve?” Bodie shook his head. “I wish I had now. We could have talked and comforted each other.”

  “Sorry,” Hana said with a sigh. “I decided it was best nobody knew. Vik was dead and it seemed wrong to rob him of everyone’s respect, so I kept quiet.”

  “I didn’t know he planned to leave,” Bodie said. “We must’ve meant nothing to him.”

  “That’s not true,” Hana said. “He loved you and Izzie. And he loved the other woman more. I’m the one who wasn’t good enough, not you.” Hana rubbed a comforting hand across her son’s back and felt the tension in his spine.

  “He didn’t go though,” Bodie said. “Do you think when it came to it, he decided he had too much to lose and maybe he did love us more than her after all?”

  “I don’t know,” Hana whispered, kissing the side of Bodie’s face. “I’ve played the loser in every possible scenario in the last nine years, so I can’t trust my own memories anymore. Meeting Logan woke me up from a nightmare and I’ll never stop being grateful for that. But mistrust colours my relationships and worry that one day, I won’t be good enough for him either.”

  “Oh, Mum, what a pair of damaged morons we are!” Bodie sighed. “When I fell in love with Amy at work and discovered too late she was married, it was agony. I felt like I’d turned into my cheating father and gave her an ultimatum. She chose her marriage and I left the Tron without a backward glance. It was a shock when I returned last year and realised she had my son. Her husband walked out on her before Jas was born, so the kid’s had nobody. I’ll marry her and make it right, otherwise I’m like Vikram Johal and I refuse to repeat my father’s mistakes again.”

  “You’re right.” Hana picked at the bandage. “We’re emotional refugees.” She stretched her arm around Bodie and they sat for a while in the sunshine, enjoying the warm rays on their faces and the distant hum of shared memories.

  Odering clattered round the corner, his face pink and sweaty and his shirt creased. He glared at Bodie. “Sergeant!”

  “Oh, oops!” Bodie grimaced. “I came to say goodbye but...sorry sir, it must’ve been hot in the car.”

  Odering grunted as though about to blow a gasket and Hana reined in her laughter. “Thank you for waiting.” She turned a gracious smile in the blustering detective’s direction. She smoothed her son’s hair back from his face. “Friends again?” she whispered, gratified by his embrace. Bodie nodded but as he turned to leave, Hana put her hand on his arm in alarm. “Izzie?”

  Bodie’s eyes grew wide with horror and he shook his head. “No!” After his father’s death, the teenager worked hard to maintain a facade for his sister, shielding her from additional pain. “Just my pastor,” he said with a faint smile and Hana rolled her eyes.

  “Bloody Marcus! Figures,” she breathed. A comment her son-in-law made recently gave her cause to wonder and Hana shook her head. Yet he’d never broken his friend’s confidence and Hana knew he would take the dreadful secret to his grave with him.

  “Can we just go?” Odering snapped, marching towards the archway created by trimmed camellia bushes.

  He swore as his exit disappeared, cut off by Logan dragging a fully tacked Sacha behind him. The white mare tossed her mane, moving her head from side to side to take in the strangers through first a brown and then a rolling blue eye. Odering took a step back. Sacha snorted, grinding the metal bit in her mouth and holding her stunning Arab tail out behind her in a show of swishing arrogance. “Hey babe,” Logan said to Hana. “I’m going up to the fortieth. The guys think the spring’s blocked at the top. I shouldn’t be more than a few hours.”

  “Ok. Have fun.” Hana smiled at her husband, recognising his need to ride as much as possible to make up for the lack when he was away. Any of the men could do the menial task. Logan pressed forward towards his wife and Odering hovered in the small gap between two spiky rose bushes covered in buzzing bees. He and Bodie worked hard to avoid the stamping, constantly moving hooves. As Logan pushed his hat back and leaned in for a kiss, Sacha lifted her tail and let loose the reason for her discomfort.

  “Far out, Sacha!” Logan chastised. “Don’t crap in your work space!” The rich, sweet grass from the delicious lower slopes of the property emerged as slurry, splattering down her legs and coating the stem of a lucky rose bush. “No bloody manners!” Logan complained and the horse put her ears back and snaked her neck in disapproval.

  Miriam would have delighted in the feast bestowed on her rose bush, but Odering’s mortification was evidenced by the drips coating his work pants. “Thanks!” he groaned and Bodie stifled a laugh at the sweet revenge. The detective had pushed him around relentlessly over the last few weeks, driving him mad with his demands.

  “Laval’s threatened your mother. I’ve got a team tracking her. I need you to find out what she knows. Get on it!” The task conflicted Bodie and left him angry and disappointed after the awkward visit to the staff unit sent him back empty handed. As punishment, Odering let Bodie discover Hana’s kidnap via the station grapevine, not affording him the respect of a victim’s son. Bodie looked forward to the end of his shift, not least because he spent the whole night listening to Odering lay on his back and snore. Horse crap up the detective sergeant’s legs went part way towards satisfaction.

  Bodie shook Logan’s hand with a smirk. “Thanks for everything,” he sniggered, jerking his head at his superior dabbing at his trouser leg with a tissue. Logan nodded; that strange upwards gesture of acceptance, restoring peace. The policemen left and Hana watched them stride towards the car park.

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Logan said, running his thumb over his wife’s cheek.

  “Sounds like a guilty conscience to me,” she mused.

  “You’re imagining things, wahine.” His fingers strayed under her hair, massaging the back of her neck in steady, sensual strokes. “Wanna ride up the mountain with me?” he whispered, his eyes promising outdoor treats of a sexual nature.

  Hana shook her head. “Not this time, babe, I’ve got packing to do. We should go back to Hamilton tomorrow.”

  Chapter 30

  Before they left, Logan drove his wife and daughter up to the paddock at the top of the mountain, parking the quad bike outside the open gate. “Give me Phoe,” he said, easing his daughter into the baby sling on his chest.

  “Why are we here?” Hana asked, feeling the sea breeze on her face and enjoying the sight of the vast Tasman Sea at the edge of the cliff.

  “Just waiting for Tama,” her husband said, measuring the time by the sun. “Bloody boy’s late, as usual.”

  Tama appeared on horseback, sweating and whining. “You can’t just text me and tell me to get up here! Not when I’m half an hour across the valley.”

  “Untack the gelding,” Logan said, ignoring the barrage of complaints. “And close the gate.”

  Together, they walked to the cliff edge and looked out over Port Waikato, the pleasant breeze counteracting the stifling heat. “What’s this about?” Tama asked. “I haven’t done anything wrong so you can’t mean to push me off.”

  Hana laughed and shrugged. Logan shook his head. “No, idiot! Me and Hana intend to build a new house on this site. It’s gonna be a new start.” His grey eyes searched his nephew’s face. “It’ll be a different Du Rose legacy. We’re different.”

  Tama nodded with approval, sliding eyes filled with envy toward
s the child at Logan’s breast. “Lucky little girl,” he whispered. Already Phoenix knew more love in her short life than he ever had.

  “Tama!” Logan said, pulling the boy back from his thoughts. “The thing is, Hana and I would kinda like you to be part of it.”

  Tama’s brows knitted together in consternation, still not understanding. “I don’t know how to build houses,” he said sadly. “But I’ll labour for ya if it keeps the cost down.”

  Hana chipped in, seeing the seriousness in Logan’s face and realising what the curious meeting was about. “No, sweetheart. We want you to be part of our family,” she said with a smile. “You’ll have a room in our house that’s your own.”

  Tama’s jaw dropped and he looked from one to the other, searching their faces for the joke. “For real? Me?”

  They nodded and laughed at his startled expression. “Me? Really me?” he repeated.

  Logan pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to the boy. Tama opened it, seeing a printed form in his hands. “What’s this?” he asked. “I don’t understand.”

  Logan pointed to the title of the form and said the sweetest words the teenager ever heard. “We want you to change your name legally to Du Rose. I’ll pay for it. The form’s filled in; you just have to sign it. I’m sorry for what I said last year. You’ve proved you’re worthy of the name. But Tama, even if you weren’t, it’s still yours by right.”

  Logan looked embarrassed and pursed his lips, stroking his baby’s hair as her bonnet slipped off. The Du Rose men detested emotional displays and both seemed out of their depth. The enormity of the offer hit Tama like a brick. They wanted to share a permanent home and a name which meant more to him than life itself. “I’ll be a Du Rose?” he said. “Nobody can take it away if I fill this form in? It’ll be mine until I die? Like, can I pass it on to my children and build my own Du Rose whānau?”