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Back The Last Guests
Chapters (54)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART ONE
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. DEADLY SAS RAID IN AFGHANISTAN UNDER SCRUTINY
  11. FIVE
  12. SIX
  13. SEVEN
  14. EIGHT
  15. NINE
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. PART TWO
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. TWENTY-SEVEN
  35. TWENTY-EIGHT
  36. TWENTY-NINE
  37. DANIEL MOORE: ‘A SINGLE BLOKE, HAPPY-GO-LUCKY, A BIT OF A DUNCE BUT WITH A GOOD HEART,’ BEST FRIEND SAYS.
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. THIRTY-TWO
  41. THIRTY-THREE
  42. THIRTY-FOUR
  43. THIRTY-FIVE
  44. BREAKING: POLICE CONFIRM DANIEL MOORE ACTED ALONE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. SECOND ARREST MADE IN WESTAY HIDDEN CAMERAS CASE
  50. EPILOGUE
  51. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  52. Discover More
  53. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  54. Also by J. P. Pomare

It strikes me as mildly threatening, yet if he was planning what he did, why send this at all? If he knew my address, why not just send it to the house? Could he have discovered I was lying about my dad being sick? I never even knew my dad. Something like that might send an unhinged man over the edge. Maybe he realised I only wanted my ring and necklace and never planned on seeing him again. Or he somehow realised I had changed my number. This could also be a way of covering his tracks. If he did set us up to be a murder suicide that night, and if he was questioned by the police, a lawyer could point to this act as evidence of good faith.

I put the necklace on. Then I twist my wedding band onto my finger, close the PO box and step outside. I toss the envelope and his note in a nearby bin.

‘What was it?’ she says.

‘Just a package from a friend,’ I say, before starting the car and heading off again.

I leave Sara at her house before heading towards the WeStay, passing the bar he took me to, then along that quiet suburban park and pulling up outside the house: 299 Hillview Terrace. It’s still dark but for the streetlights, and the moment I open the car door the cold rushes in. In the empty street memories from that night flood my mind: walking along here alone, meeting him, traipsing back under his arm with his damp breath in my hair. That emptiness inside me surges again and I think about what Cain said, I should have been the one to save you. He’s seen that violence before, and he wanted to protect me from it. He lives with his own guilt.

I quickly scan the street once more before opening the side gate and heading for the front door. I find the key safe and punch in the pin code: 4139. The keys fall out. Two of them: one modern, stubby and short; the other long and thin with a blade at the end in the distinct shape of a U. The small steel map of New Zealand is cold and sharp in my palm. More memories come unbidden when I open the door: that mad scrabble across the living room, hard up against the wall, stumbling around the couch then finding our way to the bedroom. The memories trap themselves in my throat and my heart is aflutter. Despite everything, I tell myself again that Cain could still technically be the biological father.