“What are you doing here?” I shout, not bothering to hide my anger. “Aren’t you buried in some hole in the ground?”
“Look, I can explain.”
“Go on, then. I’m listening.”
“Not like this. If I slide the key to the padlock under the door, will you open it?”
“No. I’ll open the door when you’ve told me why you faked your own murder, why you never helped me when you must have known who Ned was, what he did.” I slam the palm of my hand against the shed door. “People died, Hunter. People I loved, people you knew. They’ve all gone, Carolyn, Justine, Lina.” I hear my voice break and kick the door hard with my foot. “How could you?”
“Amelie,” he says. “Please. Let me explain.”
“Go on, then.” I harden my voice. “Explain to me why you let me believe you were dead.”
“Alright. I’m going to sit down, here by the door. I suggest you do the same.” There’s a pause. “It’s going to take awhile.”
There’s a thud against the door as he sits. I move closer, sit down, facing the door.
“I’m not sure where to start,” he says.
“At the beginning,” I say, my voice harsh. “I want to know everything. You owe me that, at least.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Carl and I are brothers,” Hunter begins. “Our father was a New Zealander, our mum is British. We were born in the UK, but our parents emigrated when we were children and New Zealand became our home. When I finished college here, I left. I felt that New Zealand was too remote and I wanted to explore the rest of the world. I traveled around Europe for a while, ended up in England. Eventually, I joined the police force and—”
“You were in the police?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice.
“Yes, in the crime squad. Our dad was in the police, so it probably runs in the blood. Carl went straight to work in security from college, but eventually, he followed me to London and set up his own security firm there. About a year ago, I left the police. My partner and I had recently split up and it seemed a good time to do what I’d been dreaming of doing, which was to come back here and build myself a house. Carl was happy in England. His business was doing well; over the years he’d managed to secure contracts with some high-profile names, including Ned Hawthorpe.” He pauses. “He was also in a relationship with Lina Mielkut?.”
I’m so shocked I can hardly speak. “Carl was in a relationship with Lina?”
“Yes. They first met over the phone when there was a problem with the payment for the contract renewal. They hit it off, and eventually met up. But they kept their relationship a secret, even from Justine. They didn’t want it getting back to Ned; they didn’t think he’d feel comfortable knowing that the head of his security firm and his accountant were seeing each other. They were so paranoid they didn’t even use their real names when messaging each other.”
I remember Justine’s teasing about Lina having a secret boyfriend, and I feel the threads of the story beginning to pull together.
“Just before I was due to leave England, Carl was contacted by someone highly influential connected to the Hawthorpe Foundation. This person was becoming increasingly concerned by Ned; there were rumors that he was a predator, sexually harassing the young women who worked for him. This person—let’s call him Mr. Smith—was worried about the negative effect any scandal involving Ned would have on the Hawthorpe Foundation. Not only was Mr. Smith one of its most generous benefactors, he’d also been instrumental in getting other wealthy people to donate. The rumors made him jittery, so he asked Carl to find out what he could.
“Carl already knew that Lina was uncomfortable with a couple of payments she’d had to make, although she had never told him who they were to, or why she’d had to make them. When he’d pressed her for more information, she had clammed up, only saying they weren’t ethical. Carl agreed to help Mr. Smith. But he didn’t want to use any of the security equipment his company had installed to spy on Ned, as it would have been a breach of rules. He was looking for another way in when Ned contacted Carl’s company asking them to provide a security guard. Carl realized it was the perfect solution and persuaded me to put off my return to New Zealand and take the job.” He pauses. “I knew of Ned from my years in the police. There were rumors of cover-ups, of his grandfather using his influence with those in command to get Ned out of trouble. There’d been a case where a young girl had died but nobody had been able to make anything stick. When Carl asked me to step in as Ned’s live-in security guard, I thought it might be a way to nail him once and for all.”