But the boat continued in the opposite direction. Water flew up behind the motor, and a steady hum filled the air.
“What’s he doing?” I grumbled, frustration rising in me.
“Who knows?”
“He’s going back to the shore for some reason. You’d think he’d look for the couples in the process in case something like this happened.” I held on to the kayak and continued to kick my legs.
“You okay?” Riley asked.
I nodded, despite my chattering teeth. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“We had an interesting discussion in the men’s suite last night. It was about roles in marriage.”
“Oh yeah. What was so interesting?”
“Most of the guys here feel very strongly about women’s roles and men’s roles. Women do the housework and cooking. Men do the yard work and bring in a paycheck.”
I knew what Riley was doing. He was trying to keep me distracted from thoughts of being surrounded by nothing but water. It was working. “And how do you feel about those things?”
“I feel like a husband and wife should be partners,” he said. “Share the responsibilities. If you can replace your wife with a maid and cook, then there’s a problem.”
“Really?” His answer surprised me. I just saw him as having a more traditional viewpoint of those things.
“Why do you sound surprised? Did you think I was the type who wanted my woman barefoot and pregnant?”
“I’m not sure what I expected. I mean, we didn’t really talk about stuff like that when we were . . .”
“Engaged?” he finished.
I wasn’t sure why the words wouldn’t leave my mouth. “That’s right. Engaged.” There. I’d said it.
“You don’t have to be afraid to talk about it, Gabby.”
“Afraid? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not afraid. It’s just awkward, you know?”
“What’s awkward about it?”
“Is this really the time to discuss it? I mean, shouldn’t we concentrate on surviving?” I kicked my feet.
Just keep swimming.
Great. Now I was finding myself quoting Disney movies. I may have been previewing a few for my future godson or daughter.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said. Should it not be awkward? Was I missing something?
“Remember when we went paddle-boating that time at the park down the street from our apartment?” Riley asked.
“Of course, I remember that.” I smiled.
It was a good memory. We’d just started dating. I’d thought I had a career ahead of me in forensics. And the future seemed bright.
So much had changed since then.
“I would like to talk to you about everything that happened over the past nine months some time,” Riley said quietly.
“How about we sing ‘Yellow Submarine’ first?”
“What?”
I had no idea what I was talking about. Anything but what Riley wanted to chat about.
I shivered again. Shivered like I’d never shivered before. The reaction was so strong that my entire body shook uncontrollably. The water was just so cold that it zapped all my energy. My grip began slipping from the kayak, and I couldn’t pull myself back up.
I had to focus, take my mind off my discomfort.
“Those were good times. But it’s like they say . . .” My words began to fade as drowsiness overtook me.
“What do they say?” Riley asked.
What was I trying to say? I could hardly remember. “They say . . . all good things . . . must come to . . .”
“Gabby, are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer. I knew the stark reality I was facing.
Hypothermia was setting in.
CHAPTER 16
“Gabby, I need you to stay with me,” Riley said, a knot forming between his eyebrows.
“I’m numb. And cold. So cold.” I felt like I was swimming in ice water. In the Arctic. After eating a popsicle.
My mind wanted to go to a happy place. A beach. In the Caribbean. With no clouds or breeze. Just searing UV rays burning my skin.
“Hold on to the kayak.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me up higher, trying to get my upper extremities out of the water.
“It’s no use.” My words were a chattering mess. My body felt like it had taken on a mind of its own, and I had no control.
“Only a little bit farther. The Bible is full of stories that take place on or near the water. Think about Peter walking on water. If he did that through faith, then we can get to that island.”
“He lost faith and sank.”
“At least he stepped out. You’ve got this, Gabby.”
But did I have it? I wasn’t so sure.
That’s when my foot hit something.
A shark? No, not a shark. This was something solid. Big. Expansive.
Land.
We’d reached land!
“Riley . . . the water . . . I can touch bottom.”
We’d arrived just in time. The water was shallow for quite a ways until we reached the beach, but at least the end was in sight. I was already dreaming about a hot shower and coffee and . . . warmth. Just warmth. That was all I wanted.
Before I could say anything else, Riley swooped me into his arms. “I’ve got you from here, Gabby.”
“You . . . don’t . . . have to. I can . . . make it.” But my words didn’t sound believable, not even to my own ears.
“Let me help.”
His chest felt solid beneath me. But I didn’t have time to think about that, though. I had to concentrate on survival right now. My teeth chattered even more as the cold air hit my wet skin. My body trembled as it fought to get warm. Riley had to be cold. But he pushed through. He was my hero . . . again.
How many times had he saved my life now? I’d lost count.
“The kayak,” I managed to say as he slogged through the water. “We should keep it for . . . evidence. The police might want . . . to see it.”
“All I care about right now is getting you to safety. That trumps solving this mystery.”
I held on to Riley and let him take charge. I was just grateful he was with me because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to make it any farther. All of my She-Ra was fading.
My mind swam. I couldn’t feel my hands. All I could hear was the slosh of water.
Finally, we reached the shore. The real shore. The sand.
And I knew I was going to be okay.
***
I finished putting on some dry clothes and sat on my bed for a moment to decompress. I’d taken a long, hot shower then pulled on three shirts and four pairs of socks. I wanted to regain normal function, but I found myself climbing under the covers instead.
I just couldn’t get warm.
Dr. Turner had wanted to take me to the hospital, but I’d insisted I would be fine. I hoped I was right.
Coffee and soup had been left on my nightstand. Blaine was probably responsible. She waited in the other room in case I needed her, but I didn’t feel like talking to her now.
My hands were still trembling as I picked up the coffee and attempted to take a sip. It was no use. My hands wouldn’t function the way I wanted.
Before I forgot, I grabbed my wet jeans. I reached into the pocket and pulled out the note I’d found from Anna.
What a soggy mess. The layers stuck together. The ink was smeared.
It was worthless.
Despite that, I tried to unfold it to let it dry. It was no use right now, though. With my hands shaking the way they were, I’d only end up doing more damage to the paper.
I frowned and placed the note in my suitcase—the dresser might be a better choice, but my pearls had disappeared from that location. This note had been my one solid piece of evidence, and now it was ruined.
Just as I put it away, someone knocked at the door. Before I could even say, “Come in,” the door opened and Farrah stepped inside.
I couldn’t even tell she’d been out
on the water. She smelled clean, with a gentle perfume wafting around her as well as the scent of fresh shampoo.
“I hear you need to see a doctor,” Farrah told me, setting a bag on the floor and pulling a chair closer to me.
“I do.”
“I can help.” She reached into her bag.
Was that a medical bag?
I stared at her a moment, feeling a bit speechless and perplexed. “You’re a doctor?”
She shrugged and pulled a penlight out. “A pediatrician, but that doesn’t really matter right now. How are you feeling? I heard you had quite the ordeal out there.”
“We did. Who would have thought there was a hole in our kayak? Thankfully, we made good time before the boat started to sink.”
“You’d think someone would check them out first,” Farrah said with a frown and a shake of her head.
I got a good look at her. She had fine lines around her mouth and eyes. Maybe she was in her early fifties. Her gold jewelry and Ralph Lauren sweater gave her a certain finesse.
I remembered the way she stormed off before kayaking began. “Well, I’m glad you two made it in safely. No problems?”
“I gave up. Leroy came and picked us up.”
So that’s where he’d been going when he’d hurried past.
Farrah shone the light in my eyes. “You’re very unfortunate, you know.”
Had she said unfortunate? Yes. She had. “Why’s that?”
“Because Jim and Ginger were supposed to have your kayak.”
My back muscles tightened. “How do you know that?”
“I saw Jim switching the name cards before we got there.”
Really? Why would he do that? Had he known the kayak was sabotaged?
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Farrah continued.
I studied her a moment. A doctor? She hadn’t struck me as the type, and I wasn’t sure why exactly. I supposed it was because most people who were doctors and went through that much schooling didn’t end their careers after getting married.
The mystery of Farrah Griffith deepened.
I paused as she listened to my heartbeat. “Why did you give up your career? You must miss it some. I mean, you have your doctor bag with you.”
“I suppose I like to use my medical training whenever I can. It keeps my mind sharper.”
“So why did you give it up then?” I repeated.
She shrugged again. “It’s what the wives of men like Atticus Griffith do.”
Now that was an intriguing statement. “Why?”
“The men consider it more of a symbol of their success if their wives experience lives of luxury. Atticus was charming and swept me off my feet. All that changed after we got married. I think there are other reasons men like Atticus act the way they do, but no one wants to admit it.”
“Like what?”
“It traps us.” She frowned and leaned back. “If the husband makes all the money, then it makes it hard for the women to leave. The men can cheat—and they usually do—and the women are powerless to do anything about it. We’ve been groomed to fully depend on them.”
“That sounds horrible. I’m not recommending that you leave him, but you do have a career to fall back on. You don’t have to be treated that way.”
“Life as the wife of a powerful man is complicated. It’s a subculture within itself. All my social circles are connected with him. If I left him, I’d essentially be starting over. If you don’t conform, you’re shunned.”
I was trying to understand. I really was. I mean, I’d watched The Real Housewives series. I knew how messed up people could be. “I know this is nosy, but neither you nor your husband seem to want to be here,” I started. “So why are you putting yourself through this?”
Conversations could be the best way to find out information. I’d learned—sometimes the hard way—that people skills were essential in investigations.
She turned off her light and placed it back in her bag. “You’re right. That is nosy. Truth be told, we promised my parents we would go through this program. My mom is dying of cancer, and this was her request. We’re here, but we’re going through the motions, I suppose. Neither of us really wants to work things out. We’ve already drawn up the divorce papers.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is. At least my mom will think she’s done some good. She knows Dr. Turner personally, so we couldn’t even fake coming here. She checks in with him. Of course, he can’t say anything specifically about me or Atticus, but my mom always manages to get information out of him. If we didn’t show up, she’d find out.”
I nodded. “So, are the rest of the women here in the same boat you are?”
She twisted her lips in thought. “I shouldn’t do that. My doctor says it will give me more wrinkles.” She neutralized her expression. “Anyway, I don’t know what to say. You’re acting like this is a surprise to you. I thought your husband was some hotshot lawyer. You must understand.”
My cheeks flushed. I’d forgotten my cover. How could I have done that? I was just so fascinated by what she was saying.
“He is. We just . . . we believe that marriage is a partnership not a power play.”
“Then hang on to him. Because, where I’m from, being a successful man means having control over your wife.” She shook her head. “I’ve said too much.”
I squeezed her arm. “Isn’t that why you’re here? So you can talk about these things?”
“Talking doesn’t always change mind-sets, Gabby.” She leaned back, seeming to come to her senses and putting on her ice-queen persona again. “You look like you’re going to be fine.”
“Did everyone else return?”
“I’m not sure. Angelina and Bo were arguing so much that they were practically going in circles. Ginger was letting Jim do all the paddling, so I’m not sure if they went faster or slower.”
I thanked her before she headed downstairs. She sure had given me a lot to think about.
But the main thought lingering in my mind was that Farrah had been a doctor. That meant she would have extensive knowledge of prescription medications. Could she have had something to do with Anna’s death?
CHAPTER 17
Dr. Turner approached Riley and me during dinner. I almost hated to not give my full attention to my grilled tuna, arugula, and risotto. Steve lacked many things—like a good personality—but he was a great cook.
Dr. Turner took a seat across from us, his arms resting on the table and his parakeet-yellow cardigan spotless. “I’ve been very concerned since I heard what happened. How are you?”
I shrugged, stealing a glance at Riley. “Hanging in. Still shaken.”
“I want you to know that your safety is of utmost importance to us,” he continued. “We’re looking into what happened.”
“When you say ‘we’re,’ who do you mean?” I asked.
“Leroy,” Dr. Turner responded. “He’s an experienced boatman, and he’s working security for us.”
I nodded, not really satisfied with his answer.
“You know there was a hole in the bottom of the boat. We’d been reassured the equipment was all checked over,” Riley said. “Frankly, Dr. Turner, I’m a little concerned.”
“Is something strange going on here on the island?” I asked. “I’m getting a bad vibe.”
Something shifted in Dr. Turner’s gaze. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the question made him nervous. “No, I want to assure you that there is not. Unfortunately, a lot of couples who come here are in a bad place emotionally. That can lead to some poor choices. Our sessions have a tendency to bring a lot of emotions to the surface.”
“So that’s why the woman died last weekend?” I asked.
Dr. Turner frowned and leaned closer. “She was already depressed, and she’d had a particularly painful session with her husband that evening. She seemed okay when she went to bed, though. No one expected her to sneak out and end her life.”
; “So you don’t think the kayak incident is related?” Riley asked.
Dr. Turner’s jaw went slack with confusion. “No. Why would it be? The kayak was an accident. Anna’s death was a suicide.”
I nodded slowly, trying to let his explanation sink in. He seemed to sense my hesitance.
He lowered his voice. “To be honest, I’ve been very concerned. With God’s guidance, I want to help people heal. I don’t want to make people hurt any more than they already do. Things like this can shut down my entire program. That’s the last thing I want. God led me to start this couples retreat. As it says in Proverbs, ‘In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.’”
“I didn’t realize it was Christian based,” I said.
“It’s not overtly Christian. But the principles and foundation are all there. I take the Bible very seriously, as I do my calling.”
“We appreciate that,” Riley said. He reached over and grabbed my hand. “Faith is the only thing that will get us through this rough patch.”
I swallowed hard, reminding myself he was just playing a role. Nothing more.
***
“Men and women have very specific roles to play in a marriage,” Dr. Turner said, pacing in front of the group during our evening session.
We were back in the Therapy Lounge. The lights were low again, classical musical played softly, and the couch where Riley and I sat seemed more and more comfortable as I became accustomed to Dr. Turner’s methods.
At least I knew the basic principles of this program were grounded in a biblical foundation. That made me feel a little better.
“I’d like for you to turn to your spouse and tell them what your expectations are for them,” Dr. Turner continued. “I know this may seem strange, but it’s good to be able to get these notions out in the open instead of just living them out in the subtext of our lives. Expectations can be healthy. So turn to your spouse right now and chat. I’ll give you a few minutes.”
I pulled a burgundy, tasseled pillow over my chest and hugged it for a moment as I turned toward Riley. That familiar awkwardness flopped around in my gut again. How were we supposed to talk about this exactly? It just seemed weird.
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