That night, Hector Juan Martinez struggled to sleep.

Not because he hated his rundown apartment or the king-single bed that made him feel like he was still that zit-covered teen who could barely look at a girl without blushing.

It was because one thought kept stabbing him right where it hurt. His brain. And that thought?

Where the hell am I going to stash Devi ... DD ... Mrs ... argh, Ms Dhungel?

And what a brilliant question that was indeed. Where was Hector going to 'stash' Devi Dhungel in that tiny little town of Mystery Cove, formally known as Mutton Fish Cove or Abalone Cove – so "original"! Stash her somewhere where Brady Moriarty could not get to her or her truth. A truth that was going to keep Devi alive—hopefully—and ensure his promotion.

Devi Dhungel was still alive! But for how long?

As far as Hector was concerned, he needed to see a future where Devi Dhungel had healed and headed home in one piece. But as Lewis had rightfully pointed out, as well as Devi herself, it all depended on how successful Hector was at keeping Devi and her identity a secret for as long as he needed to catch the culprit. An impossible task with Brady sniffing around— not that Brady needed many excuses to be sniffing around Hector these days. The man just didn't take a hint. It was one tiny kiss, while they were drunk, and playing truth or dare—such a childish game it was and a mistake, but that's what it was, a mistake. Hector didn't swing that way. In fact, it had been many moons since Hector had swung any which way at all, with Hilde, but, he would not go there. Hilde was definitely out of his league, as was Devi's case. They were both out of his league, but at least with Devi, he had a chance to prove himself. That he could be a great cop if given a chance. And this was his chance. And he was going to seize it—with both fists!

Besides, he did not need to break Brady's heart. He'd known the guy since they were in their diapers for Pete's sake. Whatever Hector felt, or didn't feel for the guy, he couldn't and didn't have the heart to hurt him that way. He just hoped, with time, Brady would get over him.

And so, there he was, struggling to sleep beneath the thin sheet. His muscles, too wrung up like a Jack in a box to relax. His mind, too busy conjuring dark, doomsy scenarios to let him drop away and drool. No, what Hector needed was a plan. A plan to hide Devi from prying eyes and, as she said, keep her safe.

But where? Where could he keep her safe? Where was the one place, with the one person who wouldn't go blabbing to the whole town that the mystery woman from the beach a few days ago was hiding in their shitty little matchbox of a house? Who was it in that town that would hold their own against the relentless probing and coaxing of the ace-coaxer, Brady Moriarty? Who indeed?

Then his phone rang, startling a squeal out of him. He was glad no one lived in the apartment with him, and that the police station closed at night. He reached over for the landline and put the receiver to his ear—and yes, landlines were still a thing in this town, a town time seemed to have forgotten somewhere back in the nineties.

"Hello?"

"Why are you still awake? I can hear you thinking from here! Stop or you'll hurt yourself." His mother said matter of fact. In fact, Eve Martinez was a very matter-of-fact kind of a gal. Always had been. A fact that grated heavily on her fact-averse son. Oxymoronic if you think about the line of work he'd chosen to go into. Very oxymoronic.

"What?" Hector groaned, despite being sure he'd heard a hint of jest in her voice. "What are you even doing calling me this late, Ma?"

"You left in a huff this afternoon, so obviously I'm worried. You didn't call. Did the chat with Devi Dhungel go okay? Are you taking her case? It could mean a promotion." There was a strange dullness to Eve's voice and Hector couldn't help but wonder.

Have I told her I want a promotion so I can use the excuse to move away? Put Mystery Cove and its doldrums on my rear-view mirror, with dust blowing behind me like in the movies, and I'll even wave and say 'see you never'? "Eh, what?" he ended up mumbling instead, terrified at how his mother might react if (and when) he dropped that bomb. He was all she had, and she was all he had, but to live all his life in that secular town? No way. This was not his life. This was not his dream. It had been his parents'.

"You want that promotion, don't you?" his mother's words abruptly pierced his thoughts. Eve wasn't one to suffer fools, even if the said fool was her only son.

"You want me promoted?" Hector sat up, leaning against the pillow.

"You're not cut out for this country life. You never have been. Your father on the other hand... " He heard his mum clear her throat then. "I want what's best for you. There's more you can do in life than warn Grumpy Gavin against public urination, or give the ratbags a stern talking-to about underage drinking. Who's even selling them booze out here?"

Yep, Hector's mum knew about the 'happenings' in town. They were the few things Hector could share with her about his days during family dinners, every Saturday night. Not exactly riveting material to discuss over awkward dinners, not since Ma moved their traditional 'Sunday dinners' to Saturdays. Everything was different with her since Papi died. Everything.

"They steal booze, Ma." Hector yawned, finally feeling sleep descend on him.

"Still. They are kids ... barely toilet-trained ... "

"Ma. It's one o'clock in the morning. You did not call me to talk about the kids and Gavin's toilet habits." He could imagine his mother rolling her eyes at him, saying 'you're not a babysitter!'

He sighed. He'd missed his old mother, the one that often took jokes and ran with it, but since Papi, and then Abuela, it seemed Eve Martinez had lost her spark for life. His mother used to be a social butterfly, and now, she was more a house moth that lingered in closets forgotten. She needed something to spark her life, to dust herself off with. Ignite her passion again. But where did her passion lie these days?

The stacks and stacks of books waiting to fall over in her house popped into Hector's mind then. Her passion. Books! His mother loved books.

And more than that, his mother loved intelligent, smart, witty books. Qualities that reminded him of a certain dark-haired woman—who terrified him, despite her injuries—lying there in the hospital at the end of the road. Devi.

Devi was intelligent and witty, and smart! Perhaps too much, but—Hector sat up a little straighter. "Ma."

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favour."

"Favour? What kind of favour?

"The writer."

"What about the writer?"

"She is legit, Ma."

"Of course, she is legit. Any Tom, Dick, and Harry could have told you that. But what does this got to do with what you want? Do you want another life or not, Hector? You're still young."

"No. That's not what I meant. Of course, I want more out of life, Ma. But I can't—I can't possibly leave you here all alone."

"And I certainly don't need a babysitter, not one I raised myself!"

"You mean it? You'd be okay with me not being around." Hector's heart leapt to his throat. Could he possibly do it, move away and make something of his life? That too with his mother's blessing?

"Ha! You're barely around except for food, mate."

Which wasn't untrue. But still. "I won't be over every Saturday."

"You're getting ahead of yourself."

"Right." Hector nodded. He hadn't even started investigating the case yet, and he was already imagining moving away to a bigger city. One step at a time, Heck. One step at a time, so he said, "I am taking the case, but ... should I bring this to the Chief first?"

"Absolutely not. What are you going to tell him besides, a woman washed ashore with a knife on her back, and she says somebody tried to kill her?" Eve asked. "You need proof. Evidence. A theory. Do you even have one?"

"A theory?" Hector knew then that he'd found the perfect person to stash Devi with, if she agreed, of course. Because there was no way Brady would come poking around her neck of the wood. He's scared of Ma. In fact, the whole town is scared of her.

"Like, why someone would try to off her?" he mumbled, wondering how he should breach the topic: 'Hey Ma, while I figure that out, can you hide the woman in your house? But be careful. She bites.'

He heard his mama sigh, no doubt thinking, 'what am I going to do with this kid?' "About that favour. What is it?"

"Umm ... there's this situation with Devi Dhungel that I need your help with." Hector began tentatively, twisting the corners of the bed sheet that covered him. "Can I put her up with you? For a little while, until I figure out her case ... It's just, Brady is already sniffing around and she got very cranky at me for jeopardising her case and safety, saying if word got out she's still alive—"

"Then someone might come after her. Classic! That's a classic worry," his ma mumbled.

"What?"

"Well, you said, someone tried to kill her, on her birthday of all things. They lost her at sea. People probably think she's dead, and if Brady tattles, the news might leak wider ... I get where she's coming from. You should be careful, Heck. You never reveal a murder victim is alive, mate!" his mum said. "Not in these cases. Cops usually keep their key witness on the down low till they build a strong case for arrest, in case the culprit gets wind of it and poof. Vamooses."

"How do you know all this?"

"Every dummy knows the basics!" and there was Eve, lover of crime novels and devourer of true-crime stories—not that she was going to tell her son this—firing on all cylinders again until she gasped. "Don't tell me you told Brady who she is?"

Hector felt heat rush to his cheek. He'd been about to, hadn't he until Lewis gave him the stink eye and pointed out the obvious. "Of course not, Ma. I'm a cop. I know what I'm doing," he fibbed. He had no clue. No clue.

Well, maybe a little, but he was more than a little rusty.

"So, can I bring her to yours?" he asked again. "Please. She won't talk to me or give me any details until I get her somewhere safe and away from Brady, and I need this."

After a long pause, which had him praying under his breath for a 'yes', Eve responded. "So what you're saying is, I get to host a famous author I admire, in my house? Sure. She can stay in your dad's side of the house. It's nicer and spacey, where my book towers won't bury her ... "

"Something I worry about for you too," Hector said pointedly. "Are you sure? I don't want you regretting it later ... She's a little, how should I say? Brass?"

"I lived with your dad for years, Heck. He was the driest man I ever met, drier than the Atacama Desert in Chile. I think I can handle a lovely woman. We'll have much to talk about ... I could ask her about her books ... "

Lovely wasn't exactly the word Hector would use for Devi, but, "Ma! She's not the easiest person in the world."

"Neither am I!"

Touche! His mother had a point, but still. Devi Dhungel living in secret with his mother? For how long?

As long as it takes. Hector swallowed. "It could be awhile, Ma."

"I could do with some intelligent company. Beats the townfolk who think I'm just some trophy wife to a late author ... like I have no identity of my own. I'll have you know, I have a PhD in—"

"I know, Ma!" Hector rolled his eyes. The number of times his mum brought up her PhD in Prion diseases was innumerable. How his parents ever met was a wonder to him. A PhD nerd and an egotistic literary novelist. "You'll also have to keep this a secret. You can't be telling people a famous writer is living with you in your house."

"And who am I gonna tell? Your Papi's ghost?"

Point again. "Fine, if you're sure, I'll move her tomorrow morning. The sooner I get her out of the hospital, the sooner she'll talk, and the sooner I can begin ... besides, I think she really hates the hospital. She said it looked like a toy. Tiny and old."

His mum laughed at that. "Well, she's not wrong. God forbid something serious happens to anyone here, they'll need an airlift to the nearest big hospital. Remember poor Caitlin? She didn't stand a chance ... aorta rupturing like that, and that too on her on stoop, while she sat watching her cat. Poor Gavin ... to lose his wife that way ... "

"Ma!"

"Right. Bring her tomorrow but after midday. I don't do people that early, even if it is a wonderful author I've been waiting to meet for so long. It'll give me time to tidy up ... but Hector?" Eve paused, "will she be all right here? I'm no nurse. She'll need someone to help her with all kinds of stuff ... and what if she needs medical help? You know I don't like to drive ... ."

How could he forget? His mum hadn't touched the steering wheel for years, not since Papi passed away, in a crash. And shit on a cob stick. He hadn't thought that far ahead, had he? What if Devi needed medical help? The woman was a mannequin, strapped in casts from nearly head to her toe!

" ... she'll need a live-in nurse. Unless you think she can move and dress and go to the bathroom all on her own. I won't do that, no matter how famous she is or how much I admire her writing. I didn't even do that for your Abuela," Eve continued.

And that was true. Hector could hardly imagine Devi Dhungel wheeling herself to the bathroom with one arm and a leg in a cast, or his mother helping. His mother wasn't the domesticated type, evident by the shambles that was her side of the house. Even as a child, anytime Hector was sick—like puking sick—it had been Papi by his side, not Ma.

Hector cleared his throat of the knot that was forming. Sometimes missed Papi more than he wanted to, more than he should. "Why does this have to be so hard?"

"'Cause good things in life are—"

"Ma! I don't need your lecture at one o'clock in the morning. Goodnight!" He slammed the phone in its cradle, and jumped off the bed, pacing. It solved one problem. He could stash Devi at his Ma's. Brady was pissing-scared of her! But the second problem reared its head then, popping up in his mind like a canker, sore and sharp.

Crap! How the hell do I move Devi to Ma's? And a nurse... Where do I find a nurse at such short notice? And will she have to live there too? While keeping it all a secret?

Argh! Hector pulled at his hair, stomping around the apartment, again glad it was an empty police station below him. Think Hector, think. What do I do?