“You’re a hard one to find, Tamyra.” Jason stood. His six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound frame all but shut out what light was coming from the sliding-glass doors.
She tried to get out a sound, but her voice was gone. Fear had stripped it bare. She reached over and grabbed ahold of the table.
He took a step forward. “I thought you’d rush over here to see me.”
Her mind tried desperately to calculate how quickly she could turn around and get out of the door and into the hall screaming before he reached her.
He stepped closer. She knew it was now or never. She turned as quickly as she could, grasped for the door handle. It slipped from the sweat that already encased her palms. She reached for it again in a frantic attempt and pulled down hard; the click of it unlocking reverberated as loud in her ears as shots from a twenty-one-gun salute. She pulled it open, sensing a moment of freedom as the air from the hallway rushed in, but before she could get her head out and make her feet follow, Jason was on her and had the door slammed shut. She panted as both of his hands flew above her head and held the door in place. Her head fell against the wood of the door. Tears wanted to follow the fear, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
His hands reached for her arms and jerked her around. Before she could stabilize herself on her feet, the back of his hand connected with the side of her head and sent her spinning into the table by the door. It thudded loud against the wall as her head connected with the corner and gashed a two-inch slit right through her forehead above her left eye. Blood gushed quickly down her face as she grabbed for the corner of the table and tried to pull herself up.
He didn’t wait. He jerked her up and pulled her toward him. The rapid movement and loss of blood left her certain she was about to pass out. She wished she had. “So you thought I wouldn’t find you?”
“I prayed you wouldn’t find me,” she whispered.
He pushed her into the bedroom and threw her across the bed. She pushed herself back frantically and grabbed at a pillow, pulling it in front of her. She moved quickly to the side of the bed, put her feet firmly on the floor, and stood up quickly.
“Well, looks like your God is laughing at you, wouldn’t you say?”
She felt an intense anger rise up from somewhere inside her soul. An anger she had never known. It was extremely passionate. Righteous, even. The boldness of it made her find her voice even though her body was trembling. She wiped at her chin, where the blood had fallen. Her words came out solid and steady. “You lie to me. You give me a disease that leads to death. And then you come in here thinking you can beat me?” She stepped toward him.
He stepped around the side of the bed. “No, Tamyra, I came in here to kill you.”
The second blow sent her reeling. Her body tumbled across the bed and landed on the other side. Another gash opened up below her left eye. But the pain shooting through her body had her gasping for air. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t even will them open. He came around the other side of the bed and jerked her to her feet once again.
He threw her back on the bed. She screamed out in pain. The full weight of his body straddled her. The vileness of his words spewed across her while the pummeling blows he pounded her with broke most of the bones in her face. She was sure she could hear them as they cracked. She prayed she would die. And when his large hands came around the base of her slender throat and sucked all the air from her lungs, she was certain she would. When she blacked out, she hoped for death. “God, help me” leaked from her lips. It was the last thing she remembered.
* * *
Winnie sat on a bench in the reception lobby, a magazine stuck in front of her face.
“Winnie, Mia has had dinner with you. Trust me, she’s going to recognize you. There is no need to hide. That’s why we have to wait until she’s gone.”
Winnie talked from behind her Southern Living. “But I’ve always wanted to be a private investigator. Didn’t you write about a private investigator once?”
“A long time ago, and she didn’t hide behind magazines. And it sure wouldn’t have been Southern Living. Where did you get that anyway?”
“From my room. I brought it with me. And thank you for giving me five minutes to change. Wet denim can chafe your thighs.”
“Yeah, I was tired of that black dress. I just didn’t want to give Tamyra the satisfaction of knowing I needed to change.”
Winnie dipped her head down and stared at Laine from behind dark sunglasses.
“Seriously, we haven’t seen the sun for two days; do you not think those are a little dramatic? Plus, my characters would never hide behind such a ridiculous getup.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your last character hid behind her sexual prowess.”
“Are you calling her a slut?”
“No, I would call her a hussy, tramp, floozy, but you’re the author.”
“And you’re the devoted reader, Miss Baptist.” Laine fidgeted on the bench. “What in the world is taking her so long? This is ridiculous. She had one little task. Make a phone call. Tell a lie. And get on with it. You’d think we asked her to feign death.”
“She doesn’t like lying. You ought to have seen her trying to get me to dinner with Albert. Plus, she’s pretty pitiful at it. Why did we pick her for that part anyway?”
“Because she’s a beauty queen. They all lie about something. So have you talked to him today?”
She raised the magazine back up. “No, I haven’t talked to him since last night. Doubt he’ll ever want to talk to me again. I’ve left him standing there completely alone twice in one week. Would you want to talk to me again?”
“I’m sure he figured out it wasn’t about you last night.”
“Yes, I think Riley’s inability to keep her hands to herself and the announcement of you being an adulterer let him know I was pretty mild in comparison.”
Before Laine could react, they watched as Mia took off past their window and down the hall toward the suites. “Gracious, she must have come up with a doozy,” Winnie said.
“Who cares what she told her. We don’t have much time.” Laine got up and snatched Winnie off the bench. Winnie dropped her magazine and followed Laine. They entered the glass doors of the offices and looked around. All the offices were empty.
Winnie walked around the counter, then looked at Laine. “What are we looking for anyway?”
“I don’t know. I just write about detectives. Look for anything that looks suspicious—faxes, e-mails, anything. And take those fool glasses off,” Laine said, walking around the counter too.
Winnie took the glasses off and pulled a large stack of manila folders from beneath the counter, each immaculately labeled. “She has excellent penmanship.”
Laine sighed heavily. “Winnie, seriously.”
“Well, she does. It’s hard to find that nowadays.”
Laine muttered, “So is good help.”
“I heard that.”
“I’m glad.”
Winnie picked up a folder labeled E-mails and began to rummage through them. Nothing looked worth anything. She picked up the folder of faxes and found one from Thursday morning at nine, stating that Max’s guests would arrive earlier than expected. “What time did Riley join us yesterday to take Tamyra down the rapids?”
Laine shook her head. “I think it was around eleven, wasn’t it? Isn’t that when we went down to the pool?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Mia told her the fax had come through right after she left.”
Winnie pursed her lips, shook her head, and dangled a piece of paper in front of her. “Well, she lied. It came in at 9 a.m.”
Laine looked up from the papers she was rummaging through. She snatched it from Winnie’s hand. “So she would have known before Riley even left that they were coming. She deliberately didn’t tell her so she could look like the woman who saved the day.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
She was enjoying this whole sleuthi
ng bit. Until she saw Laine’s eyes change as she pushed her slightly out of her way. “Is that her purse?”
Winnie turned; a black Chanel bag sat in an open drawer.
Laine snatched it out and set it on the floor, knelt down and dumped its contents out, splattering them across the carpet in front of her.
“Oh, my side, you are not going through that woman’s purse.”
“You want me to just sit there and look at it? I told you she was a conniver.”
Winnie and Laine noticed the bottle of pills about the same time. Laine picked them up and turned them over. Winnie knelt behind her and squinted to read the label. She leaned back.
Laine stood and held the bottle in her hand. “Oh, this stuff can be brutal.”
“What is it?” Winnie asked.
“It’s an antianxiety drug. Sometimes used in fighting depression. I researched it heavily for a book two years ago.”
Winnie remembered. “Yeah, the one about the flight attendant having an affair with the pilot and they were on a flight when the plane almost crashed, which gave her terrible anxiety for flying, so the doctor prescribed her this antianxiety medication until she could get over her fear.”
Laine shook her head. “I need to take you on the road.”
Winnie smacked her on the arm. “You need to quit writing about people committing adultery. I just realized that’s a running theme.”
“Can we have our morality discussion later? I did so much research on this drug. Sometimes it can make a person seem inebriated. And they can lose all inhibition if too much is taken. This could have been the ‘headache reliever’ she slipped Riley.”
“Are you serious?”
“I could have been a pharmaceutical rep for this drug after all the research I did for it. I wanted people to know I knew what I was talking about.” She shook the bottle in front of Winnie’s face. “This is all I need.”
“What are you going to do?”
Laine walked around the counter and over to the cream leather sofa against the far wall. “I’m going to sit here and wait for Mia to come back. And then the three of us are going to have a little talk.”
Winnie clapped her hands. “Like a shakedown.”
Laine rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
* * *
Riley walked down the stairs to make sure the pool nestled between The Cove and The Reef was secure. She came down the long corridor that connected the two buildings and turned to survey the grounds. Her thoughts were on her guests and how grateful she was that most had taken the advice of FEMA and the local rescue officials and left the island two days ago. She wished Laine and Winnie and Tamyra had gotten out. And if they hadn’t been so focused on her, maybe they would have.
“I see you’re alive.” Christian’s voice stopped her thoughts.
She didn’t want to turn and face him. She wanted to hide in a hole and pretend he wasn’t there. But he was. And he deserved an apology. She turned. His face was kind but his eyes were sad. She dug her hands deep into the pockets of her khaki cotton twill dress and walked toward him. “Yes, I’m alive.”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t rescue her this time.
“From what I hear, I owe you a tremendous apology.”
“That sounds like you don’t remember.” His words held no accusation.
She shook her head. “No, for the life of me, I don’t remember anything. But please, please accept my deepest apologies for anything that happened last night. I am so very, very sorry. I thought . . .” She stopped herself. He didn’t know her story, and after what she had done last night, it was no time to start defending herself. She was a drunk, plain and simple. A drunk who inevitably couldn’t be trusted.
“You thought what?”
She could see in his eyes a sincere hope. Be honest. Completely honest. “I just thought that it was all very sad. And I’m very sorry.”
“I accept your apology, Riley. I just don’t want you going backward. I mean, that’s what the other night at the church was all about, wasn’t it? Moving forward?”
His words struck deep. How did he know so much when she had shared so little? “You’re right. It was.” She wanted to say more, but she didn’t. “I really need to go, though. I’ve got to pack up my office and make sure everything else is secure and ready. Sounds like the winds are going to be pretty heavy by early evening and downright evil tonight.” She stopped and looked at him. Really looked at him. His face held no guile. No indictment. Just questions. Questions she could never answer. “It was really good getting to know you, Christian. You are a truly wonderful man. And if I was a better woman, I would hold on to you and not let you go.” She heard the crack in her own voice, gave him a soft smile, and walked past him.
He reached out and took her arm, pulling her toward him. The tears she had been holding back with all her might rushed to the surface and fell rapidly down her face. “You are an amazing woman, Riley Sinclair. Despite your past. Despite what happened last night. There was something in all of that that was crazy and so different from our night before. But when I looked at you last night, it wasn’t you. It was something, but it wasn’t Riley. I don’t know your story. I can tell there’s been a lot of pain, but I know this, the Riley that I saw last night wasn’t you. It wasn’t this Riley. Trust me, I’m not a man looking to rescue a woman with issues. But I am a man looking at an incredible woman who gives herself way too little credit for the woman that she is.”
She shook her head. “You see what you want to see, Christian.”
“And you see what you were.”
She slid her arm from his grasp and turned away. She didn’t stop until she got to the top of the stairs. That was when she leaned against the wall, and the choking sobs came once again.
* * *
Riley dashed through the open doors of The Cove Suites. She pounded on the Up button of the elevator as if that would hasten its arrival. Mia’s panic-stricken voice on the phone had driven Riley back to reality. She kept running the room number through her mind . . . 575 . . . 575—that one was so familiar. When the elevator doors opened, she propelled her body through them and poked the fifth-floor button with a jolt. When her finger jabbed the round button, she realized whose room it was. It was Tamyra’s.
* * *
The door was held open by a frantic housekeeper. “What’s going on?” Riley asked, her own panic rising as she rushed into the room.
The housekeeper was on her heels. “I came in to clean her room, Ms. Sinclair, and he was on top of her. I screamed and it startled him. He jumped up, pushed me out of his way, and ran out the door.”
Riley stopped at the foot of the bed. “Oh, God.” The words slipped from her throat at the sight of the body before her. Mia was pounding frantically on the phone. “Oh, God, please help us.”
Riley climbed gently onto the bed. Tamyra was not moving. Her face was hardly recognizable. Blood was caked everywhere and had created a puddle around her head. “Get me a warm washcloth now.” Riley tried to hide the panic in her intense whisper.
Riley took Tamyra’s dainty wrist in her hand and felt for a pulse. “God, please. Please let there be a pulse.” Nothing. She moved her fingers again, her body pleading. “Oh, please, God, please.” The faintest thump came beneath her fingers. She exhaled the breath she hadn’t even known she held.
“Yes, we need an ambulance at the Atlantis resort now! Room 575,” Mia said, her voice high-pitched with fear.
The young housekeeper’s hand trembled as it extended a warm, wet washcloth to Riley. She took it and began to wipe as gently as she could across Tamyra’s forehead. “Hey, Tamyra, honey. It’s Riley. We’ve got an ambulance on the way. They’re coming for you, okay? Now you just hold on and we’re going to take really good care of you. You’re safe now. You’re completely safe.”
Riley raised her head to Mia. Mia stood there, her face contorted with fear, the receiver still in her hand. “Mia.” She didn’t respond. S
he just stared through Riley. “Mia, come on now. I need you to focus. Get back on the phone. Call security. Have them contact the police immediately. This guy can’t get off the island without us finding him. Now come on.”
Mia turned toward the receiver and began dialing the number for security.
Riley continued to wipe as gently as she could. Tamyra’s face was already swollen to the point that Riley didn’t know how she could even breathe. Tamyra gurgled. “It’s okay, honey. I’m right here. Riley is right here. I’ve got you taken care of and the ambulance should be here any minute.” Her words came out as soothing as any mother’s would be to her own child. “Mia, go on down to the lobby and wait for the ambulance so you can bring them right up.”
Mia stood there. Unmoving.
“Mia, go on now. I need you to make this as smooth as possible. Tamyra doesn’t need any delays.”
Mia put the phone back on the receiver and headed out the door, doing just as Riley told her.
Tamyra moaned.
Riley kept wiping and kept praying. The only two things she was capable of doing.
* * *
Laine saw Mia as she rounded the corner. “Okay, Winnie, we’re on.” Laine leaned back on the sofa, waiting for Mia to walk through the door. Both she and Winnie watched as Mia ran right past the office and stood at the main entrance.
“Looks like we’re on hold.”
Laine stood. “Oh no she doesn’t. She’s not going to avoid this any longer,” she said as she burst out the door.
She heard Winnie’s fresh and dry denim pants swish together as she followed her. She was certain if her rhinestones rubbed together too hard, they’d have a fire on top of the hurricane.
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