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Jet rushed towards the doorway, deviating left at the last minute and slamming the door shut. Wiri jumped and shot a glance at Larry, twisting his lips in question. They watched as Jet squatted to examine the stripped and varnished rimu floorboards. “Oh, no!” he hissed. “Please, no!”
“What?” Wiri joined him, casting the boards into shadow as he peered over his shoulder. “I can’t see anything.”
“Move out of the way.” Jet waved his hand and hit Wiri in the thigh. He took a step backwards and clattered with Larry.
“What’s the matter?” Larry demanded. “This is getting freaky now. What are we looking at?”
Jet spun to face them, his complexion ashen. He raised his hands as though measuring the distance between them. It emphasised his panic as he licked his lips. “This was originally my room,” he began, a swallow bisecting his sentence. He winced and exhaled, shooting a nervous glance from Larry to Wiri. “It’s complicated, but something happened here last year.” He cleared his throat. “Leilah got shot and someone else died.”
Wiri recoiled in horror. “In my bedroom?”
“No!” Larry patted his shoulder in an effort at reassurance. “In the lounge next door. It’s why she refuses to live here.”
“I moved into the house while the builders were still renovating. They replaced some of the floorboards in the lounge to get rid of the blood. While they did that, they took out some dry rot in here, so I shifted next door. I stayed there because it has an ensuite bathroom.” Jet inhaled. “But Leilah’s father had an old safe hidden behind one of the dry walls. The house changed hands after he died and Leilah bought it back when she returned to the town. They found the safe when they ripped out the wall in my new room to create the adjoining bathroom.” Jet jabbed his finger at the space behind the bedroom door. “This is what’s wrong.”
Wiri cocked his head and realised what seemed different. “The door doesn’t usually hit the wardrobe,” he said, his brow furrowing. He tilted sideways to study the gap between the heavy wooden piece of furniture and the back of the door. “So that whole thing has moved.” He pointed at the wardrobe and then glared at Jet. “Did you come in here again?”
“No.” Jet touched his chest to emphasise his sincerity. “Not me. But someone did.”
Larry shrugged. “And? What’s the problem?”
“Oh.” Wiri groaned. He bent his right knee and dropped his hip. The action hurt, but it seemed irrelevant against the thing Jet hadn’t said. “Did you hide your weapon in here somewhere?”
Jet nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. “Yes.” He pursed his lips and his eyes held a frenzied light. “The builder moved the safe in here and dropped it below the floor. He’s Leilah’s friend. She got so messed up after the shooting, he never got around to telling her what he’d done. It belonged to Hector, and Claus knew she’d regret getting rid of it one day. He thought it might prove useful.”
“And he told you what he’d done?” Larry exhaled. “Did you tell Leilah?”
“No.” Jet winced. “She won’t talk about it. She doesn’t even stay very long over here when she visits. It never seemed the right time.”
“Let’s check if it’s still there.” Larry brushed past Wiri as he grabbed a corner of the heavy wardrobe. “Not you.” He jerked his head at Wiri. “You’re already a mess.”
“Thanks.” He took a step back as Jet grabbed the other corner.
“Gee, it’s heavy.” They edged it forwards by only a few degrees after a lot of grunting.
“Use the rug.” Wiri fetched the rag rug from next to his bed and bent as they tilted the wardrobe onto its rear edge. He pushed the expensive, chunky fabric beneath the front corners, his tail bone complaining at the compression as he tried to rescue his fingers before the men dropped the wardrobe onto them.
They stepped back and observed the heavy piece of furniture. The original armoire had been reinforced and brushed with pale chalk paint. Crackle glaze around the edges offered a weathered appearance. Wiri shook his head. “How did you move this by yourself to use the safe underneath?” He fixed his hands over his hips. “It’s not possible. Even two of you can’t move it out of the way.”
“I didn’t.” Jet wiped sweat from his brow onto his forearm. “This wardrobe used to sit over there. It belonged to Leilah’s dad. She found it at the back of the equipment shed and paid someone to renovate it.” He pointed towards the left of the window. “The builder put it there after the floor varnish dried.” Then Jet stilled, his mind straying elsewhere as he winced. “Seline broke the catch on the door when she stored a saddle in there. It didn’t fit, but she forced it closed and broke it.” His fingers smoothed a ridge in the left door where the wood had split and been repaired. The paint hid the wound but couldn’t mask the shallow dip where a smaller piece of wood filled the gap. “She doesn’t take care of anything.” The observation held a depth which alerted Wiri to something brewing beneath the surface.
“Seline?” He stiffened. “She stayed in here?”
Jet nodded. “Yeah. During the summer. She didn’t want to stay at the house because she hates Vaughan. She blames him for everything that’s wrong in her life. The builder came out after she left and repaired the damage.” He ran his finger over the join. “It took Claus and another guy to get it this far. In the end, he unscrewed the door and took it back to his workshop.”
Wiri began nodding, the action growing in impetus as the pieces fell into place in his mind. “She has keys.”
Jet shrugged. “Dunno. I guess so.”
“To the back door.”
“Why?” Jet leaned back against the wardrobe and the doors creaked as he rested against the join. Larry kept one hand on his hip, the other pressed against the front corner and his fingers twitching against the painted surface. “What’s the relevance?”
“She left the back door unlocked last night.” He licked his lips. “Tane dropped me at the bottom of the driveway when he got called to a job. I walked up here, and she didn’t hear me arrive. She’d ridden over and tied her horse to the rail on the back porch. It shied and left a crack where it joins the struts. I heard her speaking to someone on the phone. She mentioned furniture being moved around so she couldn’t get to something she needed.” He closed his eyes and poked through the mind-fog which had hung over him, seeking to isolate the important portions of the overheard conversation.
“She came into the house?” Jet stepped towards Wiri as though proximity gave him more understanding.
Wiri nodded and opened his eyes. “Yes. I sat on the porch and heard her. She went into the lounge, but when the horse freaked out, she walked through the back door and left. I guess she forgot to close it.”
“I thought you did that. Figured you walked through the laundry for some reason and put the Yale on the catch.” He shrugged. “Or came home that way.”
Wiri shook his head. “I only have a front door key. There’s been no reason to go out through that door.” He took a step back and eased his bottom into an armchair he’d not yet used. “I did it tonight to see if it bothered you. It seemed a logical way of assessing if you allowed Seline to come and go as she pleased, or if she has a key. By your reaction, I’m guessing she has a key.”
Jet glared at him. “You could have just asked!”
Wiri snorted. “Oh, yeah. Hey Jet, are you shagging Leilah’s daughter?” He sighed. “That reminds me, I need to empty the washing machine. Is it okay if I use your airer to hang my stuff?” He wiggled his bottom against the chair. Harder than he expected, it provided a surprising amount of support.
Jet nodded to his question about the airer, waving off the trivia with a flick of his wrist. “Whatever.” He frowned. “How did your mind go from Seline to dirty laundry?”
Wiri observed him as he shrugged. He imagined Jet’s fragile ego withstanding Seline’s determined flirting in her child-sized tee shirt. He realised he’d had a lucky escape as his mind veered from wondering if it shrank in the wash, to his own damp clothing sequestered in the washing machine. Ignoring Jet’s confusion, he pushed his conclusion. “So, you are shagging her then? You knew she had a key and didn’t try to take it back from her.”
“It’s irrelevant. Let’s assume Leilah’s daughter knows about the safe under the floor.” Larry pressed a finger and thumb on either side of his nose and squeezed the bridge. “How would she know it contained a gun?”
“And what does she want it for?” Wiri gave an involuntary shiver. “She already hates me. I don’t like the idea of her having a door key and a weapon.”
Jet swallowed and folded his arms. His biceps flexed as he created the barrier between him and the other men. “Okay, I might have kind-of-accidentally slept with her. And I let her keep the key because I hoped she’d be interested in another sweet night of bliss with me.” He couldn’t look at them. “In my defence, it wasn’t a great time in my life and things got very messy with her living here for those few weeks.” He studied the rumpled rug wedged beneath the front of the wardrobe. “She knew I kept the gun and suggested I put it into the safe.”
Larry winked at Wiri. “How can you kind-of-accidentally sleep with someone?” he asked, his tone soft.
“I knew it!” Wiri’s mind turned to Phoenix. He held her in too much regard to defile their relationship with a quick tryst. Not that he didn’t want to. Very much. He turned his attention to Jet, focusing on the stricken cop to help banish the other thoughts which rampaged through his teenage mind.
“It just happened.” Jet lifted his gaze to meet Larry’s. “Do you need to tell Leilah or Vaughan?” His colour morphed from pale to the hue of a tomato. Wiri saw a pulse tapping above his collar. “Please, don’t tell Vaughan.”
Larry shrugged. “I’m a priest. We’re society’s secret keepers.” He dipped his chin and observed Jet through the tops of his eyes. “Unless someone is likely to get hurt.” He turned his head to include Wiri in his gaze. “So, let’s stop that happening,” he said, his tone severe.
