Marriage & the Mermaid (Hapless Heroes) by Louise Cusack Page B

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