Besides, even though we’d bonded earlier—you know, when we’d almost died—I was starting to feel the urge to run and get away from this place. To get away from Riley, specifically. I’d started warming up to him again and setting him on that platform in my mind, the one where he could do no harm.
The truth of the matter was that he’d done too much harm. He’d broken my heart, which was on the mend. The last thing I needed was for it to be crushed again. I didn’t want to be set back any further than I already was.
“Who wants to start?” Riley’s arm was stretched across the back of the couch, and he leaned back casually, as if he were watching his favorite movie.
I wanted to see some sweat or something to let me know this was as stressful for him as it was for me. I was obviously going to be disappointed.
“You start,” I said a little too quickly.
He shrugged and nodded, both slowly and uncertainly. “Okay, my expectations of our marriage. I expect commitment, I suppose. Friendship and support are always good. I expect you to have my back, even when you don’t want to.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “That’s it. Your turn.”
“I expect for you not to break my heart.” The words flowed from a place of truth, and I couldn’t seem to stop them. “I expect you to be there for me through thick and thin. I expect you to choose me over your family.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Surprise. Concern. A call to action. “Gabby—”
“I see you’re both getting down to the nitty-gritty.” Dr. Turner stood above us, nodding approvingly. “Good. Honesty is very important in relationships. Sometimes, the things that couples bring up during this session are formed because of past resentment caused by their spouse. That’s what I’d like for you to talk about next. Gabby, why don’t you start off that conversation. Continue from what you were just saying.”
I scowled. I didn’t want to talk about any of this. But it was obvious that Dr. Turner was paying attention, so it would be hard to avoid.
My shoulders felt stiff and my lungs wooden. “I think you’re supposed to protect your spouse and do your best not to hurt her. Because hurting the person you love should never be on the agenda. You fight to make sure that doesn’t happen because that’s what it means to love someone.”
Something soft yet painful glimmered in Riley’s gaze. “But sometimes you have to choose the lesser of two evils. Maybe you think your loved one has hurt you on purpose. But maybe they’re just trying to protect you from something that could be even more devastating.”
“What’s that mean?” My voice rose in pitch, and my words flew out. My emotions were getting the best of me. I was supposed to be acting, but I knew I wasn’t.
“It means that I know God has a calling on your life, and I’d never want to come between you and your purpose.”
“Why would it have to be one or the other?” Exasperation tinged my voice now. All this cryptic code talk was making me crazy.
“Gabby—”
Dr. Turner paced away then addressed the group. “Now that we’ve talked about expectations, I’d like to get practical. Tell your spouse one way they can put an action to the expectation. What does that expectation look like when lived out in your everyday life?”
I hugged my pillow even tighter as my jaw clenched. “You go first.”
What was I even doing here? I’d told myself I would keep my distance. Maybe this was my way of keeping my distance. I had to bring up the hard stuff. I knew it would put a wall between us. Bringing these things to the surface was the best way to keep me from getting too close to Riley.
Riley rubbed his jaw a moment, suddenly not looking so laid-back. “What my expectation looks like: Being patient. Not rushing me. Trusting my decisions.”
His answers hadn’t required that much thought. Maybe he’d already had these things on his mind? I wasn’t sure.
“Your turn,” he said.
“Staying when you want to run. Not trying to be a martyr. Not giving mixed signals.”
The two of us stared at each other for a moment.
Just then, Ginger stood and ran out of the room in tears.
What was going on? At least her drama had taken the attention off of me.
Sometimes that was all a girl could ask for, especially when her heart was on the line.
CHAPTER 18
When the session ended and Angelina and Farrah went back to their rooms, I lingered behind. Blaine had led a women-only time while Dr. Turner had taken the men aside.
I needed to talk to Blaine. As Dr. Turner’s right-hand woman, she knew how things worked behind the scenes. Maybe she had some insight for me.
And I knew just how to start this conversation.
“Is everything okay?” Blaine asked, gathering up some papers she’d spread on the floor.
Notes, I realized. Almost like cue cards for our talk tonight.
“I’m doing okay. Except for one thing. My pearls are missing.”
Blaine blinked, as if she hadn’t heard me correctly. “Your pearls?”
I nodded. “They’re one of the only things I have left that belonged to my mom. I put them in my dresser when I went to bed last night. By the time I came back from my morning walk, they were gone.”
She hugged her papers to her chest. “Did you check everywhere?”
I nodded. “I did. More than once.”
She frowned. “That’s so strange. I can’t imagine anyone here stealing.”
I lowered my voice. “How about that cook guy? Steve? I heard he used to be one of Dr. Turner’s patients. Someone said he has anger-management issues.”
“He is a hothead, but he’s not a thief.” She stared into the distance and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll keep my ears open and talk to a few people. Until then, I think we should keep this quiet. Everyone’s still shaken by a series of unfortunate events.”
“You mean Anna?”
Blaine pressed her lips together before sighing. “I wasn’t sure if you’d heard or not.”
“I did, and that’s incredibly sad.”
“It’s torn Dr. Turner apart. He cares about everyone here so much.”
“Have you worked for him long?” I asked, desperate to keep her talking.
“A little more than a year. Best year ever. I worked managing a hotel before this. I’d much rather see lives transformed than to make travelers comfortable on their journey. At least, I feel like my work here has lasting implications.”
“I can see that.”
Just then, someone knocked at the door. Dr. Turner stood there. He offered a weary smile. “I thought I’d let you know that I’m headed back to the mainland for the night.”
“Is everything okay, Dr. Turner?” Blaine’s body instantly tensed as if she was concerned.
He nodded, but the circles under his eyes seemed more pronounced than they did earlier. “The police want me to come in at my earliest convenience. Now’s the only time I’ve had today, and the detective said the late hour was fine.”
“Is it about . . . ?”
“The skeleton Angelina stumbled upon. I think the authorities are going to want to explore the island a bit more. I want to double-check and see if there are any updates on Anna, as well. Mr. Robbins wants me to be there with him.”
“Mr. Robbins?” I asked.
Dr. Turner glanced my way, a new emotion in his eyes. “The man who owns the island, of course.”
“You mean Mr. Robinson?” I said.
His earlier look of exhaustion was replaced with a different emotion—relief? Justification? Had Dr. Turner been testing me? Or had it been an honest mistake?
“Yes, of course.” He let out a feeble laugh. “My mind doesn’t work quite the way it used to.” He turned to his assistant. “You can handle things here?”
Blaine straightened her shoulders. “Of course.”
Dr. Turner nodded. “Okay, then. Good night, Blaine, Gabby.”
I too
k that as my opening to head to my room. I hoped Ginger would be there so I could talk to her again as well. I said good night and hurried upstairs.
As I walked into the room, I saw Ginger lying in bed.
I guessed I’d have to wait until tomorrow to chat with her.
In the meantime, now that my hands weren’t trembling, I needed to check out that letter Anna had written. I opened my suitcase to retrieve it.
The letter was gone.
***
The only sound in the room was the heat kicking on and off. The cleaning ladies had been in here since dinner because the scent of lemon was still strong. I’d tossed and turned for what felt like hours—probably because it was hours.
As I lay against the silky sheets, unable to find sleep, all I could think about was Anna’s note.
The only people who knew about it were Riley and me. I hadn’t told another soul.
So who had taken it? And why?
A new concern began to grow in my gut. What if someone knew who I was? What if he or she knew I was investigating Anna’s death? If my cover was blown, I would never get any answers.
I stared across the room, trying to figure out if Ginger was awake. Her chest rose and fell evenly as she lay in bed. Looking at her now, you couldn’t tell she had a worry in the world.
Was she truly sleeping? I had no idea. I only knew that I hadn’t seen her since the meeting when she’d run out. What had her fight with Jim been about? The two of them seemed the happiest of all the couples here. But things were rarely what they seemed.
Even with me.
I tried to act unaffected by Riley, but I really wasn’t. The more I was around him, the more confused I became.
I was grateful we hadn’t had any Bird’s Nest time this evening. I really didn’t want any more one-on-one time with Riley right now. I had too many things I feared might slip from my lips.
I’d tried so hard to pretend like Riley’s rejection of me hadn’t hurt. I’d tried so hard to pretend that I was stronger than that. But the truth was, a lot of hurt had been compounded in my soul. Eventually, it was all going to spill out. I only hoped that didn’t happen here at the retreat center in front of an audience.
I’d distracted myself pretty well with my investigations and with Garrett.
I pressed my head farther into my pillow, unable to find sleep as I wrestled with my thoughts.
Garrett . . . I wondered how he was doing. He’d become a good friend to me. I’d wondered for a while if maybe he was the one I should be with. I still thought so at times. However, he’d gone on a trip to Africa, and we’d agreed to think about our relationship while he was gone.
Was he like those men Farrah had spoken to me about? The ones who were charming in the dating process and controlling after marriage. I just couldn’t see it.
A movement caught my ear. I froze and listened closely.
Sheets rustled. A bed squeaked. A door opened.
Ginger had gotten up, I realized. I pulled my eyes open and saw that it was 2:30 in the morning. Where in the world was she going?
The bathroom, I realized. She was probably just going to the bathroom.
So I waited. And waited.
But Ginger didn’t return.
She’d been gone long enough that I was both curious and worried, especially after she’d been so emotional earlier. She’d just seemed so happy up until that point. What exactly had she and Jim discussed that had upset her so much?
Best-case scenario was that maybe she was paying a late-night visit to her husband. It was the worst-case scenario that dragged me out of bed, though.
I wanted to make sure she was okay, especially with everything going on around here lately.
She wasn’t in our suite. I quietly walked down the second floor hallway. Everything was quiet. Since most of the suite doors were locked, I decided to stick with the common areas first.
I didn’t see Ginger on the second floor. Spontaneously, I climbed to the third floor. I checked the rooms there—the workout room, the entertainment room, a storage room.
No one.
Out of curiosity, I climbed onto the widow’s walk.
My throat went dry as I reached the top.
The area was empty—that was the good news.
But what I saw there made me pause. Binoculars and an ink pen had been left on the window seat, as if someone had been taking notes.
Was someone using this area to spy on someone else?
The thought left me unsettled.
After a moment of brief hesitation, I picked up the binoculars and put them to my eyes. I had a bird’s eye view of the island. Bird’s eye view? Great. I’d been listening to Dr. Turner too long.
In the dark it was hard to see, but the moonlight illuminated the waves in the distance.
On the rocky side of the island, I saw a light. What was that?
It was a boat, I realized. What in the world was a boat doing out in the bay in the middle of the night?
I tried to adjust the binoculars, but I couldn’t make out any details. The night was too dark.
I moved to the other side of the island, curious if there were any more boats headed this way.
That’s when I saw movement on the bluff.
Someone was out there.
I squinted, wishing I could make out some details. But it was just too dark
Was that Ginger? Who else would it be?
What I saw next sucked the breath out of me.
The person jerked. Then he or she was gone.
It was hard to tell, but it almost looked like someone else was on that bluff.
Had that person pushed the other over the edge?
***
I burst through the outside door and ran toward the bluff before I could fully realize what I was doing. I was exposing myself and possibly blowing my cover.
None of that mattered at the moment.
All that mattered was finding the whoever fell and helping him or her.
I could really use my cell phone right now. As it was, I had no way of calling 911. Of reaching out for help. Of even contacting Riley for backup.
It was just me, a sandy bluff, and a potential killer.
I paused on the lawn and gathered my bearings. Everything appeared calm outside.
I didn’t see any sign of life or of a killer.
If I’d thought ahead, I would have brought a flashlight, but I hadn’t. I’d only reacted.
I reached the edge of the bluff and sucked in a breath. A woman with shadowed features lay below me. Was she still alive? I had to find out.
I scrambled down the steps, nearly tripping over my own feet. I looked over my shoulder, tense at the thought of a killer watching me and trying to stop me. Finally, my feet hit the sand. I sprinted across the beach.
Ginger lay in front of me, unmoving. I put my hand to her throat.
There was a pulse! She was still alive!
But I didn’t know for how long. I had to get Farrah.
As I turned to rush back, I collided with someone.
I stifled a scream as I looked up.
It was Steve.
CHAPTER 19
“What happened?” he demanded. Perspiration beaded across his forehead like he’d been exerting himself.
Pushing a woman off a bluff might have been a workout for the island’s resident chef.
“I . . . I don’t know. I just looked outside. I saw her go over and rushed to help.”
“Go. Call for help.”
“No, I’ll stay with her. You go.” I feared he might finish what he’d started while I was gone.
When he looked up at me, the darkness in his gaze made me cringe. “You’re wasting time. Every minute that passes, she’s closer to dying.”
He had a point. I took one last glance at Ginger and started toward the stairs. I hoped I wasn’t making a huge mistake, though.
What had Steve been doing out here? Was he the one who’d been arguing with Ginger?
Moving quickly, I hurried back inside, up the stairs, and pounded on Farrah’s door. “Farrah, Ginger needs you. She’s hurt. Angelina, find a phone. Call for help. This is going to be more than we can handle on our own. Okay?”
Farrah flung open the door, her eyes hazy with sleep. “I’m on my way.” She grabbed her medical bag.
By the time we all ran out into the hallway, the men had stirred.
Riley was the first person I saw.
“What’s going on?” He reached for me.
I didn’t have time for that. I had to keep moving. “It’s Ginger. She fell off the bluff and needs help.”
His eyes widened. “I’ll get Dr. Turner.”
I nodded and continued jogging beside Farrah.
“What happened?” Farrah asked, her iciness replaced with an urgency.
I quickly considered my words. “I’m not sure. She’s not conscious, but she still has a heartbeat.”
“Is anything broken?”
“I don’t know. As soon as I realized she was alive, I ran to get you. I knew she probably didn’t have much time.”
“Smart thinking.”
We jogged across the stiff grass to the stairway leading to the beach. We took the steps by twos to the bottom.
Ginger still lay there. Steve knelt beside her.
“It’s about time,” he muttered. “I think she’s on death’s doorstep.”
Now I just had to pray that she’d be all right.
***
“Can you explain exactly how you found her?” A detective with the Northampton County Sheriff’s Department stared at me. The thirty-something man had a square face, short hair, and leathery skin. He’d introduced himself as Detective Hanson, and I was pretty sure I had more experience with murders than he did. I’d seen a lot in my twenty-nine years, but I couldn’t be cocky here.
I wished it weren’t so dark because I wanted to see the man’s eyes. But I couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, and the almost total black was unnerving.
I started to speak but, in my moment of hesitation, I heard Jim wailing. Voices murmuring. Waves crashing.
Tragedy had turned people’s lives upside down. Yet life continued on. The rest of the guests had gathered near the building to watch with a certain grimness in their gazes. Meanwhile, Ginger had been carried away by helicopter to a hospital on the Eastern Shore.
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