Marriage & the Mermaid (Hapless Heroes) (7 page)

“Well you came out of the ocean,” he said. “Is your name Venus?”

“Yes … it is,” she said quietly, her head tilting off to one side, as if she was too tired to hold it up properly. Had the bump caused that? Or the shock of near–drowning? “Vee Nus,” she added softly. “That is my name.”

“Okay,” he said, and a quiet acceptance of the situation settled inside him, as if the weirdness of this girl coupled with Steve’s horrific death and the strain of looking after his father had pushed him to the edge. Which was bad luck if it had. There was no one to ask for help. He was in this all alone, so he just had to be practical. He went back to combing her hair.

In the distance a door shut and Baz’s hand stilled. It had been a faint noise, at the front of the house. Surely the police wouldn’t let themselves in?

Unless his father was up!

Baz jumped off the bed. “I have to go. You wait here.”

She turned to look at him, eyes wide open now. “I’m scared.”

“I’ll sort it out,” Baz promised, holding out a placating hand. “You won’t get taken away. Just lie back and look exhausted. I’ll do the talking.”

“I need to stay. I need sex. Soon.” She frowned at him a moment longer, then obediently lay back on the pillows and closed her eyes.

Please, please don’t say that to the police.

Baz hesitated at the guest suite door, wondering if she was planning to go wandering around the house again looking for sex? That wouldn’t impress the police. And though it seemed a silly precaution, Baz thought it better to err on the side of caution, so he locked the guest suite door on his way out.

Chapter Seven

B
az reached the front foyer in time to hear his father say, “… he was a good boy, but always bringing home stray kittens or birds with broken wings –” His father turned to him as Baz stepped into the foyer. “I was just telling the constable here about your fascination for sickly creatures.”

Baz had a fleeting memory of his mother helping him tend his
menagerie,
before he’d gone to boarding school. Before the stuffing had been pulled out of his world.

“Morbid,” Ted added and shook his head.

Baz was staring at his father, trying to work out what he’d ever done to deserve this crap, when he realised he had more pressing problems. Venus. The guest bed. His shoulders straightened and he stepped forward to hold out his hand. “He’s a sergeant, dad.” Baz smiled at the giant Maori with his incongruous crew–cut, then tried not to wince when that large paw started to squeeze. “Sergeant … Waikeri?” he said, casting back a couple of hours to their phone conversation. Waikeri nodded and let Baz’s hand go before he broke it.

Beside him, a younger man, perhaps in his thirties, held out his hand. “Constable Liam Moore,” he said. “Also of the Crystal Cove Police.” Moore was leaner, tanned, with cropped white–blond hair and the sort of deep voice women would melt over. Knowing he was about to talk to Venus didn’t help Baz’s equilibrium.

“Oh.” Baz shook his hand. “We haven’t met.”

“No. You were leaving when I arrived on the scene this morning.” If there was sarcasm in his words, it didn’t filter into his voice.

“Is the girl awake?” Waikeri asked, getting straight to business.

“What girl?” Ted asked, and Baz looked up to see his father’s grey hair wisping around his head like a manic hat.

It wouldn’t take much to convince the two men in front of him that his father was a nutter. On the other hand, if Randy What’s–his–face could prove that Ted was mentally incontinent before Baz had new forms lodged, they stood to lose everything.

It was clearly
lesser of two evils
time.

“The girl from the beach, dad,” Baz said. “The one I introduced you to earlier.”

Ted frowned. “That was a man. The one on the veranda?”

“No, the man left with me this morning, dad, when we went to find his brother. I’m talking about Venus,” he said. “You know, Venus. The new housekeeper.”

“Oh.” Ted looked surprised. “No, I’d forgotten about her.”

“Well, you only saw her for a minute,” Baz lied, “on your way for a nap.” Ted was totally confused now and Baz turned back to the two men to say, “Doctor’s got him on sleeping tablets. Disorients him sometimes.”

Waikeri nodded and Baz felt his confidence rise. So far, so good.

“You pop out into the kitchen and get a pot of tea on, dad,” Baz said, knowing it would take his father an hour to find the kettle. “I’ll fix this up.”

“Alrightie then.” Ted tottered off down the hallway. “I like visitors.”

“He’ll be fine when the sedative wears off,” Baz told the two men. “Venus is still resting. I’m afraid you’ll have to interview her in her room. She can’t get out of bed. Wobbly legs.”

The blond constable nodded. “Shock.” Then he asked, “Is she healthy apart from that?”

“Doctor said she was fine.” Baz felt as if he was standing outside himself, listening to someone else make up bullshit. “Sunburn and shock. That’s all. Told her off for skinny–dipping, though.”

Waikeri cut in with, “You didn’t tell me she was your housekeeper. In fact,” he looked in his notebook, “You told me you didn’t know her.” His quiet tone disguised the importance of the question, but Baz knew both men would be remembering everything that was said.

“I’d never met her,” he replied, and gestured for them to follow him down to the guest suite, setting off ahead of them so they wouldn’t see his face. “It wasn’t until she woke up and introduced herself that I realised she was the housekeeper we’d been expecting.”

“You didn’t interview her?”

Quick, think of something.
“We’re so isolated here, it seemed a long way to come out to twice, and she was well recommended,” Baz said. “Daughter of a friend. Great references.”

Moore said in his irritatingly deep voice, “And she stopped at the beach for a swim on the way here?”

“Apparently so,” Baz said blithely. “I’d have certainly warned her not to swim there alone if I’d known she was going to. Young girls.” He shrugged, then was saved from further questioning when they arrived at the guest suite door. Baz pulled the key out of his pocket.

“You keep her door locked?” the blond, Moore, asked in a deceptively casual voice. But Baz wasn’t fooled. He saw Waikeri and Moore looked at each other.

He slipped the key into the lock. “Dad’s unpredictable,” he said. “I don’t want Venus getting any surprises before she gets used to him.”

Moore was still frowning. “But you know the shark attack victim was robbed yesterday, by a blonde woman?”

Baz felt a prickle of unease. “His brother told me Venus wasn’t that girl. He’d never seen her before.”

Moore and Waikeri exchanged another glance before Waikeri said in his gruff voice, “The girl we’re looking for has robbed three men now. We’ve got a good description of her. I’m sure we’ll see she’s not your housekeeper.”

“Then why did you mention it?”

Moore shrugged his wide shoulders. “Just being thorough,” he said, but Baz was suddenly sure there was more happening here than he knew about. He wanted the world to stop then, for the two policemen to not walk through the guest suite door — something cataclysmic, maybe a tsunami, an earthquake, or even a phone call. But nothing came to save him, and neither could Baz think of a clever distraction to stall them, so he forced himself to turn the key, to open the door and let them in.

“Venus,” he called out, “I’m here with the policemen who want to talk to you.” He hoped she was still fully dressed. Then he turned to Moore and said quietly, “She’s been sleepy. I’m not sure how much help she’ll be.”

In the gloomy entryway there was an intensity to Moore’s eyes that unnerved Baz. “I need to know what she saw,” he said quietly. “If there’s a shark out there terrorizing the coastline, I need information about it.”

Okay, so Moore’s priority was the shark, and making sure other people weren’t attacked. Baz should have felt relieved about that, but he didn’t like the tall blond with his muscly chest accentuated by a crisp white uniform shirt. Baz’s own baggy grey tee felt shabby in comparison, especially when he suspected Venus
would
be comparing. At least she wouldn’t be interested in Waikeri who lumbered in behind them like a sumo wrestler with a bad fake tan. “Okay,” Baz said, ungraciously, “but I think you should give me a moment to wake her –”

Moore was already walking into the bedroom.

Baz scrambled to follow, and was relieved to find his mystery girl lying exactly where he’d left her, giving a good impression of being asleep. Moore had stopped inside the doorway and was frowning at the luxurious four poster bed with its chiffon drapery. Baz stalked past him and leant down to touch Venus lightly on the shoulder.

Her eyes opened instantly and locked onto his, as if she’d been a toy he’d just activated. That unsettled Baz. He’d have expected her to put on a better show of being sleepy. “I know you’re exhausted,” he said to her pointedly, “but Sergeant Waikeri wants to talk to you about what happened this morning.” Baz gestured to the big Maori and hoped Moore took the hint to stay in the background, but Venus was already sitting up in bed and smiling at the buff blond.

“Are you a police officer?” she asked him, ignoring Waikeri. Baz felt his hackles rise.

“No, I’m a constable,” Moore replied, in what would have been a charming tone if every syllable hadn’t grated on Baz’s nerve–endings. “Liam Moore.”

She batted her long dark eyelashes. “Are constables gentlemen?”

Baz felt his blood–pressure peak. “We should let the policemen ask the questions,” he cut in, far too loudly, “and not get side–tracked with personal chit–chat.” With his back to Moore, Baz raised his eyebrows at Venus to get her attention. “The doctor said you should rest.”

“But I want to talk. I need to find a man to – “

“I know you want to tell Matt how much you appreciate his brother rescuing you,” Baz blurted,

“but the police, who are our local
authorities
, are keen to ask you a few simple questions. It’s not as if they want to lock you up or anything.” He gave Venus a death stare and she paled under it.

Moore cleared his throat and Baz turned in time to see Waikeri raise a pudgy hand to wave Baz over. Christ, now what? Did they want him to leave the room so they could ask her questions in private? How could he get out of that? Baz gave the blond Moore a thunderous frown before slipping past him to the big cop, preparing his arguments, trying to think up medical reasons that would sound convincing. Maybe the threat of a
panic attack
or —

“Where’s the crapper,” Waikeri asked softly when Baz got within earshot.

Baz blinked, completely thrown. “Down the hallway, third door on the left,” he said. Not that he wanted Waikeri to be gone long, but the ensuite next to the bedroom was too close, and the walls too thin for anyone’s comfort.

Waikeri nodded and took off.

Behind him, Baz heard Moore say, “So, Miss …” He waited for her to provide the rest, but when Baz turned back he saw Venus smiling flirtatiously.

Baz stifled the urge to push Moore out into the hallway behind Waikeri, and instead he blurted, “Dalrymple,” plucking a name out of thin air. “Venus Dalrymple. Her mother and my aunt are great friends.”
Aunt?
Baz didn’t have any aunts. Talk about boxing yourself into a corner.

“Miss Dalrymple,” Moore began again, taking a notepad and a biro out of his pocket. “Could you tell me what time you entered the water?”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be waiting for Sergeant –”

Moore slid Baz a none–too–patient glance. “I may be only a constable,” he said quietly, “but I am capable of questioning a witness.” Moore continued to gaze into Baz’s eyes with the sort of
back off buddy
glare Baz had never managed to master, before returning his attention to Venus. Then he did a double–take.

Baz saw him blink and recoil. Baz turned to look her, hoping she hadn’t stripped, when he saw…

Her eyes were silver.

For a split second before she reopened them they weren’t blue, they were glistening silver. The whole eye. No pupil in sight. Then she blinked and her lashes swept up from clear blue irises with perfectly normal pupils sitting slap–bang in the centre.

As if nothing had happened.

“Miss… Dalrymple…” Moore said in a voice that echoed Baz’s own shock. “Are you wearing contact lenses?”

Her smile faltered. “Contact… ?” She shook her head.

“Your eyes,” Moore went on. He took a step closer and leant his head towards her, gazing into them. “Did you just… feel anything odd?”

Venus wriggled suggestively and gazed up at him, her smile back, and that snapped Baz out of his shock. Moore was way too close.

“I’ll get you a chair!” he said and dragged up the chaise lounge from beside the wardrobe. “Here. Here it is,” he said and pointed. Moore turned to look at him and Baz pointed at the chair again. “You sit here,” he commanded, beyond manners, desperate to get some distance between them.

“Fine,” Moore said, raising his voice slightly to keep pace with Baz’s rising hysteria. He was clearly still shaken by the silver–eye thing but he sat, and Baz felt some of his tension ease. “All I want is information about the shark,” Moore added, then leant closer to Baz and said softly, “She’s too tall to be our pickpocket suspect, if that’s what’s concerning you.”

“No, I …” Baz had completely forgotten about that, which was bad. He had to focus, so he forced himself to take a slow breath, to
try
and be analytical. Moore was intent on protecting people. That was his job. And he didn’t appear to be flirting back, so maybe he wasn’t interested in Venus, incredible though that idea seemed.

The blond constable used Baz’s temporary silence to add, “If Miss Dalrymple shows her ID at the station within the next fortnight, that will be all we need from her, apart from this interview.”

“That’s good,” Baz said, then when Moore raised an eyebrow he added, “Because … she’ll be busy with housekeeping.”

“Of course,” Moore said dryly, and after a beat added, “So can I continue?”