Du Rose Blaze

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

SnaffleHana stood to the right of the front door as Logan depressed the button for the bell. When nothing happened, he knocked hard enough to wake the dead.

Hana sensed movement within the house, although she heard nothing. Then, heavy footsteps thudded downstairs and the front door whipped back with a curse.

“What?” The owner of the voice stood almost as tall as Logan, her muddy brown hair hauled into a loose ponytail. Frizz rose around her face and one pink cheek didn’t match the other. Sleep creases splayed to create a fan across the reddened skin, and Hana winced.

“Sorry. We didn’t mean to wake you.” She kept her gaze on the woman’s face and avoided looking at the rumpled pyjama shirt and the shorts hanging askew from her hips. “We’re looking for Tama. This is his house.”

The woman blinked into the sunlight and released a sigh. “I’ll tell you what I told the last lot. I don’t know where he is. Go away!” She stepped back and seized hold of the door, her sole focus on returning to her bed.

Logan lifted his foot and jammed his cowboy boot against the frame, catching the door as she pushed it and causing it to rebound. The woman’s eyes widened in shock and her mouth dropped open as words failed her for the millisecond it took Logan to act. His index finger raised, and he jabbed it at her. “My tāma owns this house, lady!” He edged forward until he’d stepped across the threshold. He’d claimed Tama with the Māori word for son, and Hana’s chest tightened with a surge of pride. She followed him over the step and into the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning against it.

Terrified, the woman backed towards the stairs, looking from one to the other and shaking her head. “I’m calling the cops.” She dug in the sagging pockets of her shorts and glanced towards the stairs when her fingers emerged empty.

“No need.” Hana fixed a warm smile on her face. “We’re Tama’s whānau. His fire chief phoned me when he disappeared. We’re worried about him.” Hana lifted her hand and held it towards the woman. “I’m Hana Du Rose. We haven’t met.”

“Oh.” The woman’s shoulders sagged. She stepped forward, skirting Logan as she reached for the handshake. “I’m Jordan. Tama’s flat mate. I’ve just finished a week of nights and am trying to catch up on my sleep.”

“Tama says the transition from nights to days isn’t much fun.” Hana leaned against the door and relaxed her stance. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she ignored its buzzing urgency. Logan shot her a frown, and she gave him a nonchalant shrug.

Jordan covered a yawn with the back of her left hand. “I don’t know what to tell you,” she said with a sigh. “We work opposite shifts most of the time. He let me move in when Joe went back to his wife. Stephen transferred to the south island last month.”

“Right.” Hana nodded and pushed herself upright. Her gaze tracked up the stairs to the hallway she could see just beyond them. “Please, may we look in his room? I need to work out if he took clothing or his passport. It might be a planned visit he hadn’t mentioned.”

“He doesn’t have a passport.” Logan’s growled statement resulted in a nod from Jordan.

She exhaled. “You stopped me asking for proof of your identity. But no, he doesn’t own a passport. It came up in a random conversation a few weeks ago. I guess only his family would know that.”

Hana reached into her pocket for her phone. The screen showed a missed call from Bodie. She dug into the hidden flap behind the cover and pulled out her driving licence. Her bank card came with it, tumbling to the parquet floor with a gentle slap. She retrieved it and stuffed it back inside the flap before offering Jordan her licence. “You should ask for proof of identity,” she stressed. “Especially at the moment.” She waited as Jordan studied her photo and handed back the card. “Tell us about the other people who came looking for Tama.”

Jordan checked a digital watch on her wrist and released a sigh. Hana imagined her calculating the hours left for sleeping and pitting the result against the number required for her to function as a fire officer. Edin’s nightmares had stolen the last eighteen months of sleep for her and robbed her of joy. Hana forced her thoughts away from wondering if the child needed her. Did she hate her for putting her with strangers in a school environment? Was she coping?

“Tell us what we need to know, and we’ll leave you in peace.” Logan’s command broke the deadlock. He jammed his hands into his pockets to create a less combative air, although the tension in his shoulders told Hana he wanted to rush upstairs and take Tama’s room apart until he found answers. Jordan winced and still appeared unsure.

“My husband owns this house.” Hana kept her tone soft. “Tama didn’t borrow from the bank, but from us.” Her lips flattened into a line as she softened the edges of the threat in her mind. “I don’t want to break Tama’s confidence, but I have a bad instinct about this.” She pressed a hand over her heart. “You can let us search with you here or we can give you an eviction notice. I don’t want to play that card, Jordan, but we’re searching his room even without your permission.”

Jordan’s shoulders sagged and her body lost its stiffness. “He said you gave him the loan.” She raised her hand, the palm facing outward in placation. “It’s not common knowledge. We’ve sort of been seeing each other.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Hana, not needing to speak his thoughts out loud for her to know them.

“Sort of seeing each other?” she repeated, knowing what that meant for Tama.

“Yeah.” Jordan nodded and swallowed. She didn’t look at Logan, perhaps sensing his vibes of disapproval stretching across the narrow hallway. Instead, she appealed to Hana’s solidarity as a woman. “It’s nothing serious.” She faltered, seeing the error of her words. “I’m going back to bed.” She flapped a hand in dismissal. “Try not to make too much noise and close the front door on your way out.” Her gaze flicked to the heavy lock attached to the frame and her features relaxed. “Leave the latch down and it’ll lock behind you.”

Hana glanced at Logan’s impassive expression. He knew how the mechanism worked because he’d helped Tama to fit it. He bypassed sarcasm in favour of information. “Before you go, tell us about the others who came looking for Tama. Please,” he added, c*****g his head.

Jordan walked towards the stairs and paused at the bottom, her hand on the banister. “Woman and a man.” She turned her body enough to address Logan, but raised her left foot to the first step. “Well dressed. She was, anyway. Looked familiar, though I’m not sure where I’ve seen her. Dark hair pulled back in a bun, tall and thin. She had an odd manner. Quite rude. The guy held a briefcase and seemed scared of her.”

“What exactly did they say?” Hana demanded. She stepped in front of Logan and followed her up the stairs to the upper level.

With a sigh of exasperation, Jordan drifted along the corridor to an open door before turning. “She said, ‘Tama Du Rose lives here. I know he does. Where is he?’ I told her I didn’t know, she called me a skanky little tart, and I slammed the door in her face.”

“Right, thanks.” Hana exhaled and turned away from the sound of Jordan’s bedroom door clicking shut.