Thursday, Jack and Emma’s house, Papakura
“Where is Hone and that friend of yours?” June Taniwha demanded. “I searched everywhere yesterday. Where is he? I demand you tell me.”
Emma exchanged an alarmed glance with Jack and edged closer, needing his proximity. Spittle built at the corners of June’s mouth, the matriarch of the Auckland taniwhas scary when her temper rose.
“Does Samuel know you’re here?” Emma elbowed Jack in the ribs, and when he didn’t move, she elbowed him again. It was his turn to speak.
“This has nothing to do with my mate.” June’s nostril flared. “Where is Hone?”
“He’s out on a job.” Jack maintained his steady gaze, his body relaxed.
“Where?” June jabbed a finger at Jack.
“We signed confidentiality agreements for this job. We can’t tell you,” Emma said, wincing at the wisp of smoke coming from June’s nostrils. “If you want information, you’ll have to speak with George.” Emma threw their boss in as a distraction. While it was true they’d signed agreements, June wasn’t the type to spread gossip. The tribe matriarch took care of official business and ruled their people, so she was trustworthy, but Emma didn’t like the blood-red haze discoloring her irises or her mottled skin. June’s search for Hone didn’t bode well.
“What about your friend? Where is the faithless hussy?”
Emma straightened her shoulders. She’d seen June in action, knew enough for apprehension to crawl up her spine. If June decided to slap her down… But she couldn’t betray her friend or Hone. “I haven’t seen her today.”
June’s lips pulled back, revealing pointy teeth as she inhaled. “Truth,” she said slowly.
“If you think Cassie is a slut, then why are you so angry?” Emma demanded before good sense kicked to life.
“Manu showed interest in her. He’s never looked twice at another woman. Your friend was meant for Manu and Hone has stolen her. I want my son settled. I want grandchildren. I want my dynasty underway, yet my older sons continue to play as if they have all the time in the world.” She glided into Emma’s personal space, her hands clenching and unclenching with each strident word.
“Emma,” Jack warned.
Emma’s teeth clacked together. Why wasn’t she lecturing Manu and her other sons? This wouldn’t end well. It was easy to decipher the watchful caution in Jack, almost if he were afraid to move and incur June’s reprisal. She couldn’t let June’s behavior pass. It wasn’t right for the matriarch to threaten Cassie, who was innocent of wrongdoing.
Jack’s phone rang. He answered. “George. Right. Okay. Yeah, Emma and I have time to do the job. We’ll come now.”
“Emma can stay here with me,” June said. “We’ll have a cup of tea.”
“She is coming with me,” Jack said. “I won’t have you threatening my mate.”
“I will speak with the hussy.”
“Stop calling Cassie that,” Emma snapped. “She’s my friend.”
“Emma,” Jack said. “Grab your camera.”
“George said just you,” June said. “Emma will stay with me.”
Jack growled, low and mean. “Do your worst, June.” Jack grasped Emma’s arm and propelled her toward the exit.
“My camera is in the bedroom.” Emma fought him.
“We’ll pick up a spare at the office,” Jack countered, implacable in his determination.
Emma glimpsed June over her shoulder and her stomach hollowed out with a quick shot of fear. Jade-colored scales had formed on June’s cheeks and her pupils shifting into a dragon slant.
“Good idea.” Emma hurried after Jack.
June wouldn’t follow them immediately. At a recent conference of all New Zealand’s taniwha leaders, the matriarchs and patriarchs of each tribe had decided it was too soon to come out to the human population. June wouldn’t break the treaty they’d signed and appear in public with her dragon showing.
“Ring Samuel. Tell him June is out of control. Once you’ve talked to him, call Manu and tell him to put his mother straight about Cassie. Hone’s taniwha wants her and he’ll fight June if she tries to interfere with his courtship.”
Jack strode to his vehicle and Emma trotted after him, fear still pumping through her veins. She’d seen June angry but never to the point where she’d lost control.
“You didn’t court me,” Emma said.
“I didn’t have to because you chased me.” Jack started his work vehicle and backed from their driveway. “Ring Samuel now.”
A loud crash sounded above the engine. Smoke poured from their kitchen window.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered.
“Fire! Our house! Crap, what is she doing?” Emma hit speed dial, prayed Samuel would answer. “S-Samuel! June set our house on fire. You have to come. She’s furious.”
“Are you inside with her?” Samuel demanded.
“No, we’re outside.” Emma gaped at the flames licking across the window frame.
“She hurt you?”
“The house is on fire,” Emma snapped.
“I’m on my way. Leave it to me.”
“I’m calling Manu next. This is all his fault. If our house burns down, you will pay for a new one. I’m not claiming insurance for fire by dragon.” She ended the call. “She won’t burn our entire house. We should go back.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Jack’s grimace dug deeper, and he kept driving toward the office. “She’s likely to hurt you if she’s this out of control.”
“I didn’t do anything. I love our house.”
“Don’t worry. Samuel will calm the situation and pay us restitution.”
“But it’s our house,” Emma wailed.
“I know, sweetheart.” Jack’s tone was grim. “I’ll be voting for Manu to take over at the next tribe gathering. No one threatens my mate without consequences.”
* * * * *
Matthew strolled through the paddocks, stopping now and then to check the buds on the female plants. They were in perfect condition, pest-free and ready for harvest. He rang Herbert.
“Harvest tomorrow,” he said as soon as his employee answered. “This one is ready. The other crop needs a week before it reaches maturity.”
Herbert grunted. “The woman has disappeared. Still can’t find her. She has checked out of the motel.”
“If she is with the man, that will work to our benefit. A romance will keep her busy.” Matthew continued walking through the head-high plants. This weed should yield high prices. “Keep up the search,” he ordered. “Tell me when you locate her.”
“You don’t need my help with the harvest?”
“No, I’d rather keep tabs on the woman. The harvest is organized. I can’t see any problems. Talk to you later.” Matthew hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. Not long until his plan came to fruition, and he’d be free of his ex. He couldn’t allow Cassie Miller-Pope to get in his way.
* * * * *
Two nights later, Cassie prepared for her spot at the show. Hone had said it was a short drive to the vineyard, and it was almost time to leave. Nerves—the good kind—bounced in her stomach. Pure apprehension would take over if she let it, but applying her stage makeup and dressing in her Katie-Jo clothes calmed her and helped her to don her stage persona. She became a professional singer. She slipped on her strappy sandals.
Hone had practiced with her several times and confidence soared within her, even though she intended to perform two new songs.
As if she’d conjured the man, he wandered into the bedroom.
He came to an abrupt stop. “I wouldn’t recognize you if I walked past you in the street.”
“That’s the beauty of my disguise,” Cassie said lightly. She swiped a final coat of mascara over her lashes. The heavier eye makeup and the lip gloss took her from ordinary to mysterious. The bright pink wig was an awesome touch. If she decided to go back to performing in the States, she’d keep this wig.
“Will I do?”
“You’re gorgeous.” Hone kissed her gently on the lips.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Black trousers. A pale blue shirt with an open neck. Black boots. “Very sexy.”
Hone grinned. “You ready to rock ’n roll?”
Cassie picked up her guitar case. “Let’s do this.”
Crowds of people, male and female, young and old, queued at the gates, picnic blankets and rugs in hand.
Hone slowed at the carpark and wound down his window to speak to security. “We’re performing. Katie-Jo.”
“Right.” The man removed a barrier. “There is a parking spot reserved for you up there. Someone is waiting for you and will escort you to the stage. Are there more coming or is it just the two of you?”
“Just us,” Cassie said.
The man waved them through. Hone parked in a space marked with her name. An older man with long gray hair and wearing a white T-shirt advertising the Vineyard concerts straightened from his lean against a silver Nissan.
“I’ll get your guitar. You take care of the other stuff,” Hone suggested.
Cassie greeted the man with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Katie-Jo.” On the other side of the vehicle, she saw Hone’s quick surprise before he bent to retrieve their instruments. She grinned. She’d forgotten to remind him she played up her American accent while in her Katie-Jo role.
“Pleased to meet you,” the man said. “Charlie Blake. I spoke to your manager. We appreciate you filling in for us.”
“My pleasure,” Cassie said. “I’m looking forward to it. This is Hone Taniwha, my musician.”
The two men shook hands.
“I’ll show you around,” Charlie said. “You’re third on the card, right before our main act, The Geraughty Rock.”
“Thanks. I requested two tickets for my friends. They’re going to ask for them at the gate.”
Charlie consulted his clipboard. “Jack and Emma Sullivan. I have their name on the comps list.”
“Awesome.”
She was quietly impressed with their setup. The actual concert venue was a natural bowl set amongst the vineyards. Now that it was early evening, the heat of the day had dispersed and families, groups of friends and couples dotted the grassy area. Excited chatter and laughter floated on the air.
“You hungry?” Hone asked once Charlie left them alone in the employees’ lunchroom, which he’d commandeered for his performers. “I got the kitchen to pack us a sandwich.”
“I never eat before a show,” Cassie said, her fingers strumming chords. “You go ahead and eat if you’re hungry.”
“No, I’m good. Anything you need? Want a bottle of water?”
“Got one,” she said, indicating the bottle sitting beside her. Hone prowled the room and repeated his circuit, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. A realization slapped her over the head. “You’re nervous.”
“No. A bit.” He turned to her, scowled and his eyes glowed red. “Aren’t you?”
“A little. As soon as I start singing, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to play for me.”
“I want to share this part of your life with you.”
“Oh.” Warmth curled through her veins. “No one has ever said anything like that to me.”
“Your manager?”
She shrugged. “It’s his job. He doesn’t attend my concerts.”
“He have other clients?”
“Half a dozen or it might be more by now. My contract with Kevin ends at the end of this year. He wants me to sign on for another three years.”
Hone’s expression froze, and she couldn’t read his mind.
“I—”
“Katie-Jo. There you are.”
Cassie turned at the familiar voice, felt her brows rise and her mouth fell open. She clacked her teeth together. “Kevin, I didn’t really believe you’d come tonight.”
“I thought I’d visit my country star. Where are your musicians? You told me you’d organize them.”
“No, I said I was going for an unplugged atmosphere for my segment. I want the songs and the vocals to shine.”
“I see.”
“This is my friend Hone. He’s helping me with the music.”
Kevin offered Hone a nod, but didn’t extend his hand in greeting. Cassie frowned, not liking or understanding his unfriendly attitude.
“See you later.” Kevin left without another word.
Cassie grimaced at his suit-clad back then at the wooden door. That had been fun. She felt as if she should apologize to Hone for Kevin’s rudeness.
“Katie-Jo, are you almost ready?” Charlie asked after a knock at the door to announce his presence.
She stood. “Hone, can you mind my water bottle? I’ll signal when I want it.”
“Sure.” Hone picked up his guitar.
Cassie grinned at him. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He paled as the crowd cheered when Charlie introduced Katie-Jo.
Cassie sucked in a deep breath and strutted onto the stage. The usual anxieties tap-danced harder than normal. Not difficult to guess why. Her pride rode on this concert. She refused to dwell on the right or wrong of her new songs, but if they flopped with the crowd, especially with Kevin’s presence, she might cry.
Aware the crowd had quieted, she lifted her right hand in a wave and stepped up to the freestanding mike on the platform.
“Hi. I’m Katie-Jo.” Once again, she emphasized the American part of her heritage. “You probably haven’t heard of me, but the country fans over in America think I can sing a little.” Her fingers strummed her guitar and behind her, Hone started to play the intro bars with her. “I thought I’d start with a song that everyone informs me is a Kiwi classic. You might recognize it. It goes like this.”
She glanced at Hone, taking in his extreme paleness, although his fingers didn’t falter as he blinked back at her with a flash of fear—no, maybe insecurity. That made two of them. She turned back to the audience, embraced her apprehension and started singing.
* * * * *
“Boss, I might have found her.” Herbert stood at the rear of the crowd watching the pair on stage.
“What do you mean might have?”
The boss sounded cranky, but Herbert understood the importance of getting this crop through to maturity. “I’m in Matakana. The two friends are here and the guy that hangs around her is up on stage. The girl singing. It could be her. She looks different, sounds different, but the body shape…it could be her.”
“Is it or isn’t it? I need her location. I can’t have her snooping around, seeing things she shouldn’t.”
“I’ll see if I can get closer to the stage and send you a video. You’ve seen her up close and talked to her.”
Come on, boss. Don’t lose it now. I’m counting on a good payday after we harvest the last of the weed.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Matthew agreed.
“All right, boss. My gut tells me it’s her. It might take me a while to get back to you. I don’t want to draw attention.”
“Thanks, Herbert.”
Herbert hung up and studied the crowd. He needed to stay away from the friends. They were near the front. Damn, this Katie-Jo person could sing. He’d Google her later, check his favorite online music store.
He skirted the crowd and found a position close enough to zoom in for a photo. While the quality and lighting wasn’t ideal, it might be enough for the boss to ID. And if not, he’d follow the guy onstage with her once he left the vineyard. Either way, he’d find Cassie Miller-Pope and make sure she didn’t learn they were using her property to make illegal income.