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Leilah remained on the mountainside with the mare and foal. “I’ll walk them back to the house as soon as she’s ready,” she said, her eyes bright and shining. “I’ll put them in the paddock we set aside for foaling.” She reached across to squeeze Phoenix’s shoulder. “I’m so grateful,” she gushed. “You’ve done an amazing job.”
“Seline needs to move her horse.” Vaughan’s words contained an edge, and he jerked his head at his wife. “I’ve asked her twice. Maybe she’ll do it for you.”
Leilah winced and nodded. She tugged her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and her fingers moved across the screen.
Vaughan leaned down to offer Wiri his hand. “I’ll get the doctor to meet us at your place,” he said, his tone gruff. He grazed his upper lip with his lower teeth as he considered Phoenix’s presence. “You coming with us?”
“Yep.” Phoenix grabbed Wiri’s elbow and helped to haul him to a standing position. She tucked his arm beneath hers and clasped his filthy hand in her fingers. The stiffness of her stance conveyed her anxiety at the looming explanation for Vaughan’s benefit. Wiri smiled at her, telling her not to worry.
They traversed the paddocks in silence, the truck bumping over the rough ground. Phoenix took the outer seat, leaving Wiri trapped next to Vaughan’s muscular body. She hopped in and out to deal with the gates. As they lurched across the final swathe of grass, Wiri noticed the water tank in the distance. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, the rain causing portions of it to weld together as it twisted and arced. A shiver ran through him, and Vaughan frowned and glanced sideways to observe his discomfort.
Phoenix jumped from the truck and slammed the door behind her again. Vaughan cleared his throat. “Thanks for what you did for the mare,” he said. He rested his hands on the top of the steering wheel and leaned forward to rub his eye sockets with his blunt thumbs. “We met with the Health and Safety inspector. Had to put my phone on silent.”
“Right.” Wiri turned his body to face him, but the minuscule space between their thighs made the moment too intimate. He turned back to the windscreen. The wiper blades shuddered across the glass and, through their ritualised dance, he watched Phoenix struggling with the final gate catch. “Does he want to see me?”
“She.” Vaughan corrected him. “And yes. She does.” He exhaled and ran a hand over his forehead. “She’s liaising with the police. Who knew a simple job like fixing up a water tank would cost one life and almost another?”
“Two others.” Wiri frowned. “You got hurt too.” He filtered the question before he asked it, forcing out the judgement and the rushed conclusion and keeping his tone level. “Was Pastor Larry related to Donovan Hendricks?”
“Yeah.” Vaughan nodded. “Brothers. Estranged. I don’t think Larry realised he lived here until after he accepted the parish.”
“Right.” Wiri cleared his throat. “He never mentioned it.”
Vaughan shrugged. “He probably thought everyone knew. Donovan moved here twenty years ago. He had a wife and a couple of kids back then. She shifted out and took the kids with her.”
Wiri closed his eyes and leaned back against the worn leather. Larry never mentioned his connection with the dead man, and it struck him as odd. Yet he’d laboured the issue of his alcoholism and the fact that Donovan Hendricks knew about it. Wiri sighed. He would know if Mac developed a drinking problem, so what was Larry’s angle? Why keep the link a secret from him when the rest of the town knew?
Phoenix got the gate open and Vaughan nodded to her as he drove through the gap. She closed it behind them and walked the short distance into the driveway. Vaughan eased the truck around the front of the house and the brakes squealed as he pulled up next to the porch steps. “Doctor is on his way,” he said, knocking the gear lever into neutral. “Tell him I don’t mind paying for his visit.” He exhaled. “Or Leilah will, seeing as she’s bailing me out nowadays.”
“How’s that going?” Wiri stared at the rivulets running down the windscreen. Like a landscape of tributaries, they continued their journey without regard for anyone else’s drama. He wrinkled his nose and gave a shudder. “Sorry. None of my business.”
“Na, it’s fine. You were just the catalyst, really.” Vaughan pulled on the handbrake and turned the key to silence the engine. “It’s good. Leilah wants to take an active role. She had big plans when we married, and I didn’t let her do any of it. Failure kind of froze me in place. I’d lost control worse than she believed and I thought I’d lose her if I came clean.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.” Vaughan shook his head and his lips rose in a smile which appeared genuine. He glanced at Wiri sideways. “I bred that mare from a second generation stallion out of one of Hector’s. Red belonged to Leilah’s father. You live in Hector’s house.” His lips twisted in thought. “Leilah thinks we should turn both farms back into a horse stud. You just saved our first foal.”
Wiri winced. “Wow,” he said with a sigh. “Not much responsibility then. That had all the hallmarks of being a disaster. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Vaughan swallowed. “Her death would have cursed it from the start.” He shrugged. “I’m more grateful to you than you know. I won’t forget it.” Phoenix popped up on to the porch, her boots clicking against the wood. She dived beneath the overhang and wrapped her arms around herself. “Who’s the girl?” Vaughan raised a speculative eyebrow. “She looks young.”
“Yeah, she’s my cousin,” Wiri replied. “She’s fifteen.” He raised his good hand and flapped it between them. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort everything out. You won’t need to intervene.”
“Okay.” Vaughan gave a definitive nod. “I’ll have to trust you. The last thing I need right now is an angry father showing up here with the police in tow.”
Both turned towards the sound of car tyres crunching over the driveway. A sedan pulled up in the space usually occupied by Wiri’s truck. Through the rain spatter on the windscreen, he saw the doctor emerge. The man sat his briefcase sideways on his head and dashed towards the porch.
“Call me,” Vaughan instructed, as Wiri shifted across to the passenger seat and pushed open the door. “Let me know how you’re doing.”
“I’ll be fine,” Wiri promised. He turned to face Vaughan. “Maybe we could get back to normal tomorrow?”
“Deal.” Vaughan sighed and lifted his hand to touch the stitches at his crown. “I’ll think of some jobs that won’t kill both of us.”
“Thanks.” Wiri dropped from the truck and hustled towards the porch steps. He stopped and turned to face the driver’s window. Vaughan obliged by winding it down using the handle. “I’ll text Aunty Liza about your contract with Hendricks. Email it through to me.”
Vaughan nodded and when Wiri laboured up the porch steps, he found Phoenix already chatting with the doctor.
She paused to catch his hand. “Keys,” she demanded, holding out her palm.
The doctor ambled inside, ignoring the shoe shelf and exempting himself wordlessly from removing his boots. He followed Wiri to the kitchen. Phoenix disappeared along the hallway after kicking off her boots outside. Wiri heard the click of the airing cupboard door and she reappeared with a towel. “Dry yourself with this,” she instructed. “You’re shivering.” She frowned at the damp footprints dotted over the floorboards and tiles and then at her socks. “Is it okay if I get a shower?” she asked. “Can I borrow some stuff?”
Wiri nodded and gave her a smile of gratitude. He used the towel to dry his hair and face as the doctor opened his briefcase on the kitchen counter. Then he stood back and observed Wiri with his arms folded. “Well, Mr Kingii. You’re certainly in the wars, aren’t you?”
“It was nothing,” he replied. “I’m wasting your time and Vaughan’s money.”
The doctor jerked his head towards Wiri’s filthy hands and arms. “I’m not sure which is yours and which is equine, to be honest,” he said. A frown bisected his dark features. “And it’s pointless me bandaging you up just for you to take a shower and soak it all.” He dug in his bag and smiled to himself as his fingers emerged, clasping two white packets. “Good thinking, Gareth,” he mused. He waggled them between him and Wiri. “My last two waterproof plasters.” He glanced at his watch and then swivelled his head to admire Jet’s coffee machine. “How easy is it to work that thing?”
“I’ll do it.” Wiri pushed away from the counter and trod a wavering route towards the sink. “I’ll wash my hands first.”
“I’d like you to wash more than that!” Gareth’s eyes widened. He pointed to the front of Wiri’s tee shirt. “You look like you’ve danced with an axe murderer.”
“Afterbirth.” He blew out a breath and pinched the hem between the fingers and thumb of his right hand. “I’m destined to lose all my clothes in this God forsaken place.”
Gareth chuckled. “It most definitely isn’t God forsaken, my friend. This is where he puts his very special subjects.”
Wiri grunted. “It doesn’t feel like it.” He jerked his head towards the pantry. “The capsules are in there unless Jet got fed up and hid them somewhere else. Phoe can make you a coffee as soon as she’s dressed.” He glanced at the wall clock, blinking in surprise to discover day had already marched into mid-afternoon. “Are you sure you have time to stay?”
“I’m taking a break.” Gareth pulled out a dining chair and sank into it. “I’ve seen eleven patients at the surgery, visited the police station twice and done three laps of the town on home visits.” He sighed and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll just text my receptionist and ask her not to make any appointments for the next hour.” His fingers worked a crazy formation across the screen before stilling. “How’s the head?” he asked Wiri.
“Sore.” Wiri sighed. “I just get real tired.
“What about your back? Did the activator help with the pain at all?”
“I’m sure it did.” Wiri rested his palm on the counter and then jerked it away at the sight of his stained fingers. “The whole incident was a nightmare. I can’t wait until it’s over.”
“Oh.” Gareth winced. “So, it’s not over then? Tane still thinks you killed Donovan Hendricks?”
Wiri shrugged. “I don’t know. He found my shirt in there with him, so I guess I’ll remain a suspect until he finds someone different to blame. But for what it’s worth, he agreed with you. It’s unlikely I somehow fitted Hendricks through that little hole in the top of the tank. Not with my injuries. Especially if he was still alive when it happened. I’m struggling to heft the bales at the moment.” His fingers opened and closed at the memory of his difficulty holding onto the tiny hoof. He shook his head in disgust at himself.
“He wasn’t alive when he went into the tank.” Gareth cocked his head. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
The water pipes overhead clunked as Phoenix turned off the shower. Wiri stared at the doctor. “Someone killed him and then put him in the tank?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny your surmising.” His lips flattened into a line. “I just pronounced him dead. The Hamilton crowd determines the rest of the details.
Wiri blew out a breath and chewed his lower lip. “So, he could have died somewhere else altogether?”
Gareth shrugged. “Or next to the tank. But as far as I’m aware, a colleague at the coroner’s office says he didn’t drown. He had a nasty cut over his left eye and someone imprinted their foot in his back too.”
Wiri stared at the ceiling and attempted to order his thoughts. “I remember there being water up to my knees when they pulled me out of the tank.” He closed his eyes, and the experience returned as water flowing down his face and soaking through to his underwear. When he opened them again, he found Gareth observing him like a man watching interesting bacteria through a microscope lens. He exhaled, forcing out the pent up breath and encouraging his shoulders to relax. “I’ve known a twenty-five thousand litre tank fill overnight with a decent rain.” He cocked his head and frowned at Gareth. “Did Tane call you out to the scene?”
“Yes. I didn’t go down into the tank, but I looked inside. The deceased floated face down in the water and a volunteer fireman went in after him.”
“Which fireman?” Wiri swallowed, imagining forcing himself to enter the dark concrete cave for a second time and finding Mac or Phoenix. “Not Larry?”
“Pastor Larry? No. The mechanic from the local garage. I think his name is Neil.”
“How much water did you see?” Wiri narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “When they brought me out, I remember hearing someone say they’d disconnected the spouting from the barn roof. The level should have remained the same.” He dipped forward to draw a line across his knee. “About this high. No one would have reconnected it. We still need to get Vaughan’s ladder out somehow. It can’t stay in there or it’ll rust and pollute the water.”
Gareth turned his head and viewed Wiri sideways, as though testing his thoughts before he said them out loud. “That’s interesting,” he mused. “Because I’m positive the fire officers measured the depth, and it was over half full. No one could stand up in it. They winched the deceased out of the water. The aperture was so narrow, they had to pass the body up first while the fireman waited on the line beneath him. It was too deep to stand.”
