The Search and Rescue team and a senior sergeant from Invercargill loaded Kopae in a rescue basket as the deafening helicopter battled gusts to stay level. Alexa held her breath until the swirling, twirling basket with precious cargo disappeared into the belly of the bird.
A still-trussed Warren, squirming and handcuffed through the netting, was next. Alexa hoped he would flip the basket and sink to the bottom of the seething sea.
A wave broke over the bow, drenching her.
The senior sergeant, a woman, would leave last. Alexa gave her the Ruger, explained that it might have been the gun used in Andy Gray’s murder. She watched the cop remove the magazine and eject a cartridge.
“So, it was loaded?”
“Yes.”
The cop stepped into a complicated rescue harness, attached herself to the dangling rope, and gave three sharp tugs. “Your DI is waiting back on the island,” she told Alexa. “He was wild with worry. Don will get you there.” Alexa watched the cop be hoisted to the bay. As the copter took off, she rushed to Darla Jo’s side and puked into the ocean as the rain blew sideways. She hated this cargo of horrors.
“That’s that, then,” said Don, the man left behind. He patted Alexa on the back and cast a wary gaze at the heaving sea. “Let’s get her home.”
Like riding a bull, the trip back. Alexa barely held on. Twenty minutes later she spotted the Golden Bay pier, and when they were close enough for Don to cut the engine, her spirits lifted at the sight of Wallace, Briscoe, and Bruce pacing the dock.
“How’s Kopae?” Wallace shouted as they neared.
“Airlifted to hospital,” Don yelled.
Don grabbed a rope and tossed it over the waves toward him. As soon as they were close enough, Alexa jumped the rail. Bruce rushed to her, opened his arms, encircled her, held her tight, poncho to slicker, the camera pressing against her sternum. Too quickly he pushed her back, looked into her eyes. “When Kopae didn’t answer the radio, we came as fast as we could.”
She braced her legs when a gust tried to knock her down.
“The car was here, but Darla Jo was gone,” Wallace said.
Briscoe, wrapping a line around a cleat, broke in. “We called Search and Rescue. They sent a copter and backup. Damn lucky they got through.”
Bruce ordered Briscoe and Don to stay, tape Darla Jo off, start processing the scene. “We’ll be back after we get Ms. Glock to safety and take her statement.”
Her knees wanted to buckle, but she wouldn’t let them.
Wallace’s house was shelter in the storm. The two children barely looked up from the TV as Nina helped Alexa, whose arms hung like wooden blocks, out of the poncho and camera. “Your face,” Nina said, brushing matted hair from her forehead. “All banged up.”
Bruce cleared his throat and pressed by her into the kitchen.
“You can’t stay out of harm’s way, can you?” Nina fetched Alexa her own dry clothes from two days before, fresh and familiar, and ushered her into the bathroom. “You know where the towels are, eh?”
When Alexa saw her swollen forehead in the bathroom mirror, she remembered the cabin door slamming in her face. A mewl escaped from her mouth. She sat at the edge of the bathtub, head down, hair dripping onto the floor, until she could summon strength.
Nina was serving mugs of cocoa at the kitchen table when she entered.
“Here,” Bruce said, pulling out a chair for her.
Wallace hung up his landline phone. “The rescue copter made it to Invercargill. I was afraid—what with the storm—but Kopae is in with a doctor now. I need to call her mother.”
Alexa trembled as he made his call. Nina wrapped a throw blanket around her, and Spot pressed her muzzle on her thigh. She encircled the mug with her hands, startled to see a drop of blood where a shark tooth had pierced her finger. The jaws flashed in her mind.
Bruce cleared his throat again. “Supervisor Lowell said it was our man Sean N. Warren who worked as a temp ranger when he lost his job. Warren helped Neville shoot the dying whales. With a DOC shotgun.”
Nina left the kitchen, shutting the door to the den.
“Bloody hell,” Wallace said. “Why did Stephen say he was alone?”
“He felt alone,” Alexa said.
Spot left her and whined at the door. Wallace let her into the den.
“Warren told me he killed Robert King.” Alexa spoke through chattering teeth. “King saw him butchering whales. Darla Jo is full of jaws and fins.”
“Losing his job, splitting up with Missy,” Wallace said, sitting heavily. “Pushed him over the brink. No excuse, though. This lets Stephen Neville off the hook.”
Alexa cringed at the word “hook.” “But Stephen still messed up.” Andy Gray messed up too and paid the ultimate price, Alexa thought, sad for Lisa Squires and her baby.
“Tell us what happened,” Bruce said gently.
The cocoa sloshed as she brought it to her lips. The hot sweet chocolate burned her tongue, slid down her throat, warmed her belly. She took another sip, grateful the floor beneath her thick socks was stable, and told the men everything.