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Wiri blinked against the light from a bare overhead bulb. A dilapidated sofa sagged along the back wall of a lounge and tattered rugs formed stepping stones across stripped boards to the kitchen. He jerked his thumb behind him. “I’ll fetch my gear,” he said, his voice sounding loud in the silent room.
Vaughan shook his head and propped the shotgun against the TV stand. “Na. I’ve put you in the house next door. Corey lived over the shed, but my wife wants to renovate the space.”
“Right.” Wiri focused his gaze on a line of wallpaper hanging halfway down the wall. It curled over as though in defeat, its mates on either side already gone to leave tufts of lining paper sticking to the plasterboard. Vaughan spun to follow his gaze.
“Leilah’s been stripping the wallpaper.” He ran a hand through his dark fringe and winced. The toe of his boot caressed a steamer parked haphazardly to his right. Water sloshed inside the drum. He exhaled, as though his wife’s renovations cost him more than financially. Then he looked up at Wiri and smiled, his face morphing into something akin to pure elation. “Women, hey?” he commented, and his eyes softened.
Wiri nodded, his mind flicking back to home and Logan and Hana. He’d seen the same goofy expression on his uncle’s face. Irritation bowled over by love. He cut off the image before it could remind him of Phoenix and everything he felt for her. “Who was that guy?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing to slits. “What did he want?”
Vaughan rubbed his right eye with the back of his hand. He let his fingers drop to his chin, the skin scratching across the stubble as he considered his answer. Then he sighed and shook his head. “He sells finance for farmers,” he said, his tone stilted. Dipping his body, he seized the shotgun and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway leading from the kitchen. “Let me lock this away, then we’ll head over to your place. Leilah went over to tidy up, so we’ll take your truck and I’ll come back with her.” He nodded at Wiri before his heavy tread took him out of sight.
Wiri spun on the spot, staring around him at the room. He’d taken the job after a series of emails, never considering that Vaughan might not be able to pay him. The financier’s visit after dark suggested he’d tried to catch the home owner at other times and failed. Wiri tapped nervous fingers against his thighs and stilled as his smart watch indicated a missed call on the phone still in the truck. He lifted his wrist and spun the dial at the same moment that his phone received a text and mirrored it through the Bluetooth on his watch. He relaxed upon seeing his cousin’s name.
‘All good here,’ Mac said. A smiley face reinforced his confidence in the ruse. Wiri blew out a breath and sank onto the sofa, wincing at the way the cushion dented to leave him sitting on the wooden board underneath it. Macky wouldn’t give him away unless his life depended on it. Limited hearing had isolated him from birth, but keen observation skills made him a silent witness to most of Wiri’s mischief. He knew about Phoenix and approved.
Wiri sighed as the air left his lungs. No one could withstand the might of Logan Du Rose. Not even Mac. If his uncle got wind of what he’d said and done, they’d all be in more trouble than any of them could imagine. The problem was that none of them really understood why.
“Ready?” Vaughan appeared in the doorway and strode across the kitchen. He snatched up a set of keys from the counter next to the kettle and jangled them against his palm.
“Yes, sir.” Wiri rose and dug his key fob from his jeans.
Vaughan blinked in surprise, long black lashes brushing against his unkempt fringe. “Na mate!” he exclaimed. “Just call me Vaughan.”
“Okay.” Wiri stepped towards the ranch slider and he slipped through the gap. The cool breeze nipped at his exposed arms and wound around his neck like icy fingers tightening a noose. He waited as Vaughan locked the door and turned towards the porch with a sigh.
“You’ll find the weather colder down here,” he commented, his tone soft. “Crazy when we’re still in the Waikato.”
Wiri nodded and stepped off the porch. He hadn’t lied about the work he’d done on the mountain farm, creating an impressive CV from his experience. Toby got him to write his own reference, signing it on the bonnet of a farm ute and leaving a messy signature scrawled through a line of dust. Asking Logan posed too much of a risk and would lead to questions. Guilt nibbled at the back of Wiri’s neck at how he’d taken advantage of Toby’s illiteracy to force through his plan.
Vaughan settled into the passenger seat of Wiri’s truck, dipping forward to collect the fallen wallet from the foot well. He placed it into the cup holder with the phone he’d retrieved from the seat. “It’s ringing,” he said, jerking his head towards the buzz as he fastened his belt.
“It’s fine.” Wiri started the engine, alarmed to see Logan’s name flash on the screen. “I’ll get it later.”
Vaughan stared around the truck with a frown, inhaling the newness before peering at the silent dashboard display. “Didn’t you connect it?” he asked, his fingers twitching as though he wanted to fix an unknown problem.
Wiri shook his head and cranked the gear lever into reverse. “Na. No point. I’m just borrowing it.”
Vaughan’s gaze dropped to the device plugged into the cigarette lighter and he frowned but didn’t ask. Instead, his attention turned to giving directions as Wiri bumped the truck along the driveway towards the road. Wiri exhaled with relief, driving with care, hoping to impress his new employer. He’d plugged in the jammer after reading the instructions which came with it in the box. The disjointed translation of the Chinese content suggested the device could inadvertently mess with the efficacy of his phone’s signal. The crazy, roundabout journey which the Google navigation subjected him to had proved the point. He’d only found the general location of Vaughan’s farm by stopping at a local garage and asking the attendant.
Reaching the main road and traversing the bone jarring cattle grid, Wiri checked the road twice before taking Vaughan’s direction to turn left. He sent a silent prayer to heaven that he wouldn’t encounter the police officer again in a hurry. Experience told him the cop’s curiosity would unravel his story within minutes.
He couldn’t risk that.
