Temptation Island

by Rachel Woods

  Nodding, Octavia said, “That person could be the killer.”

  “We don’t have all the details,” Octavia said, “but I think we can agree there was probably an argument about the blackmail money and Henri was stabbed.”

  “We don’t need the details,” Icarus said. “We just need to know who picked up the money for Henri.”

  “Which means we need to talk to Joshua,” I said, feeling decidedly more like the old Quinn than I had in a long time. “He had to have seen who Henri sent to the money drop.”

  DAY TWENTY-TWO

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  “Tavie, are you serious?” Icarus asked. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m absolutely sure,” Octavia said. “My friend, Kale, who works at Channel 3 is a video editor, and he is two hundred percent sure that the video Joshua filmed of that blackmail money drop in the locker room at Golden Lizard Beach was edited.”

  Astonished, I shook my head, trying to absorb the significance of what Octavia was telling us, though eight in the morning might have been too early for startling revelations of profound consequence. Even after two cups of coffee, I was a bit groggy, possibly from the pain meds I’d been given to temper the throbbing in my right hand.

  I’d been released from the hospital yesterday around seven in the evening. Icarus took off early to pick me up, and we went back to his place.

  After a casual, yet romantic, dinner in the backyard at a bistro table beneath a large pergola festooned with outside string lights, Icarus grabbed a bottle of wine, and we climbed into a hammock strung between two palm trees. As the balmy island breeze caressed our skin, we talked and laughed about silly things of no consequence, staying far away from any topics that were even remotely related to blackmail or murder or the fire that had put me in the hospital for three days.

  Later, we made love, but it felt tense and combative. It seemed as though we both were trying to dictate, control, overwhelm, and subdue the other. It was powerfully satisfying, but it left me feeling unsettled.

  I wasn’t sure what was happening between us. Were we two people falling in love? Or merely lovers, whose lust for each other was all-consuming, like a raging fire? I wasn’t sure, but I knew fires didn’t burn forever. Even the most destructive blaze would eventually either die out on its own, or be put out by some outside element.

  Watching him sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was sleeping with the enemy.

  But it was a new day, and after an abrupt early morning summons to Octavia’s office to discuss something monumentally important, my apprehensions from last night disappeared.

  “Yesterday, when I first looked at the video,” Octavia said, “it seemed strange. I asked Kale to take a look, and immediately, he says this video has been edited. Portions of the video had been removed, is specifically what he thinks.”

  “Did he say which portion?” Icarus asked.

  Nodding, Octavia said, “The part between when Quinn leaves the locker room and Icarus arrives at the locker room and removes the beach bag. I’ll show you guys. See if you can detect it.”

  A few moments later, Icarus and I were standing behind Octavia’s desk, peering at her computer screen as Joshua’s video played. Octavia had to play it twice, but eventually, both Icarus and I were able to discern an imperceptible moment where the video seemed to skip.

  “That little blip you saw,” Octavia said, glancing over her shoulder up at us, “is where the video was edited. Kale says it could be one of several things. Either a portion of the video was removed or erased and then spliced back together to appear as though it was one continuous shot. Or, the video was paused, or stopped, and then started again, and the two separate videos were edited to appear to be one continuous shot.”

  “So, what did Joshua not want me to see?” I asked, confused and disturbed.

  “Obviously, he didn’t want you to see who picked up the blackmail money,” Icarus said, heading around to the front of Octavia’s desk, facing her.

  Octavia asked, “Ish, you think Joshua was working with Henri?”

  “I didn’t tell Joshua that he would be filming a money pickup,” I said, remembering our conversation. “I just offered him money and told him what I wanted him to video.”

  “Did he ask you why you wanted him to make a video of you putting a beach bag into a locker at Golden Lizard Beach?” Octavia asked. “Did he ask you why you wanted him to film the person who would take the beach bag out of the locker and then follow that person?”

  “He didn’t ask,” I said. “He seemed half-curious, half-suspicious. I thought he would question me, but he didn’t.”

  “I think Joshua knew about Henri’s blackmail scheme,” Icarus said. “That’s why he removed portions of the video. He had to take out the part where whoever Henri told to pick up the money showed up at the locker room. I’ll bet you that if I hadn’t gone there to get the money so I could use it to force Henri to confess, Joshua would have given you some bullshit story about how he wasn’t able to get any video because something happened to his phone.”

  “I think Quinn is right,” Octavia said. “I don’t think Joshua knew he was filming an extortion money drop. But, I think he got curious, so he took a look. And while he was looking in the locker, he paused the video.”

  “But, how would Joshua have gotten into the locker?” Icarus asked. “If he opened that locker, it was because he knew the combination Henri told Quinn to use, which means he was working with Henri. He might have stopped filming to remove the money himself.”

  “Or, maybe he stopped the video because he saw Sam or Nick or Stazia,” I suggested. “He knows them, right? So, if he sees me put the beach bag in the locker, and then he sees one of his coworkers take the beach bag out of the locker, he might have wondered what was going on.”

  Nodding, Octavia said, “Joshua might have stopped filming the video to ask.”

  “We can’t keep speculating and guessing. We need to find out for sure,” Icarus said. “I’m getting off around eight tonight. And then we’re going to have a little talk with Joshua.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Did you edit the video you filmed for me at the Golden Lizard Beach locker room?” I demanded as soon as the phone was answered.

  I’d been trying to reach Joshua for days, it seemed—though, actually, it had only been hours—and I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries and greetings, not when I was fuming and frustrated, realizing he’d made a damn fool of me.

  It was a little after five o’clock, and I’d had too much time, since Icarus dropped me off and went to work, to kick myself because I’d never suspected that Joshua had tampered with the video. It made perfect sense. Even Lisa agreed despite the fact that Joshua’s creative editing took quite a bit of suspicion away from Icarus. Walking aimlessly from room to room, nervous and agitated and pissed and frustrated, I’d updated my best friend on the latest bombshell. It was obvious that Joshua hadn’t wanted me to see the person who’d actually picked up the blackmail money. Question was, why? Had Joshua been working with Henri all along?

  “What are you talking about?” Joshua asked. “I gave you the video that I filmed.”

  “Did you tamper with the video?” I asked. “You didn’t give it to me immediately after you filmed it, remember? You sent me a text saying your phone died, and—”

  “It did die,” he insisted, his voice rising several octaves. “Because of all that video I’d filmed, it ran the phone battery down. I couldn’t give you the video until I charged my phone and—”

  “Maybe you couldn’t give me the video until you removed the portions that showed the person who came to get the bag out of the locker.”

  “Icarus is the person who took the bag out of the locker,” Joshua said. “Didn’t you see him on the video? Icarus opened the locker and—”

  “Icarus wasn’t the first person who went to the locker and opened it,” I said, jumping up from the couch. “Someone got there before he did, and I want you to t
ell me who it was.”

  Silence ensued and then stretched. For a moment, I wondered if Joshua had ended the call, but then I heard what sounded like a sigh.

  “Joshua?” I sat down again. “Are you still—”

  “You wanna know who got to the locker before Icarus did?” he asked, but something in his tone made his question sound like a taunt. “I’ll tell you. But that information is not for free.”

  “What?” Shocked, I stood up. “Oh my God, are you trying to extort money from me?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t have the money.”

  His apathetic, mercenary attitude was discouraging and hard to believe. The information he wanted money for could possibly help the police catch a coldblooded murderer. The person who took the money from the locker before Icarus got there just might be the person who’d killed Henri and Sam. Joshua could be protecting the murderer’s identify just to make a few bucks.

  “How much will the information cost me?” I asked.

  “Twenty-five thousand,” Joshua said. “Bring it to me tonight and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “I am sorry about calling Joshua,” I said. “I should have waited until you got off work.”

  It was a few minutes after eight o’clock and the sun had already set, leaving behind wispy streaks of pink and creamy orange against a lavender sky. Icarus and I were headed to Joshua’s apartment, traveling toward the northern end of the island. The trip was taking us on a circuitous route along winding coastal roads with mountainous tropical forest on one side and beach vegetation that sloped to pristine white beaches on the other.

  “When Octavia told me that Joshua edited that video, I just couldn’t believe it,” I said. “I got impatient and I had to know if it was true.”

  “I probably would have done the same thing,” Icarus said. “Actually, I did do the same thing when I didn’t tell you that I found out that Henri had blackmailed you.”

  “How did you find out?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to know. “You never told me.”

  Icarus was quiet, and then he said, “You remember what Sam told you about me and Stazia working together to steal the blackmail money from Henri?”

  Flooded with disillusionment and disbelief, I stared at Icarus’s profile, feeling as though someone had just opened the door of the Jeep and pushed me out.

  “So ... you were working with Stazia?” I asked, struggling to breathe.

  “No, I wasn’t working with Stazia,” Icarus said, sounding more weary than insulted by my question.

  “But, you just said—”

  “Henri came to me and asked me if I wanted to go in on this idea he had,” Icarus said. “It was over a year ago. He had come up with this bullshit plan to blackmail one of the guests. He tried to tell me how easy it would be. He said that he could make a secret sex tape of one of his fantasies and then threaten to release it if the woman didn’t give him a bunch of money. I told him it was a stupid idea and his ass would end up in jail, but …”

  “He found someone who didn’t think his idea was so stupid,” I said, my heart rate slowly returning to normal. “He found two people, actually. Sam and Stazia.”

  “Anyway, when you accused me of blackmailing you,” Icarus said, “and when you showed me the sex tape of us and said the blackmailer was threatening to show it to everyone, that conversation I had with Henri about his stupid idea came back to me. And I knew Henri was the blackmailer. I knew that sonofabitch had gone through with that stupid plan.”

  “It was like his sister told us,” I said, leaning back against the seat, remembering Doris’s chilling words. “Henri didn’t care who he was going to blackmail. All the woman had to be was rich. But there was nothing really special about me.”

  Saying nothing, Icarus made a sharp turn, downshifting as the road dived into a steep curving descent.

  “So, anyway …” I started. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me when I told you my reasons for coming to the hotel.”

  “You said you were anxious and trying to deal with your nightmares.”

  “Nightmares that started after I won a huge case,” I said. “And you told me to figure out why a win would give me nightmares.”

  “And did you figure it out?” Icarus asked.

  “I’m not really sure,” I said. “But, I remember not feeling very good about the win. The company I was representing is shady, and I think they may have manipulated evidence and bribed experts and government officials. I think they were guilty, and still I defended them. When I was working up the case, I knew something wasn’t right, but I went ahead and presented the evidence to that jury. I defended them, but I didn’t believe they were telling the truth. I was so caught up in making partner that I turned a blind eye.”

  Icarus said nothing, and I worried his opinion of me was changing. Maybe he thought if I was capable of defending a guilty client, then I was capable of murder.

  Fifteen minutes later, Icarus was navigating the twisting streets of Boleslau, the seaside neighborhood Joshua called home. It was a lively part of St. Mateo, and it seemed as though we were heading into the middle of a street party with the sounds of hard-driving reggae music, raucous laughter, and conversations in which people shouted across the street at each other. The gravel shoulders were littered with roadside vendors hawking various and sundry wares, everything from jewelry and scarves and bootleg DVDs to roasted goat and stewed plantains.

  Seedy sexiness seemed to be the way of life on the narrow palm-lined roads of the north side.

  Icarus parked the Jeep in the parking lot of an abandoned convenience store. After we got out, he took my hand, and we crossed over cracked concrete to the shoulder and then crossed to the opposite side of the road. The air was electric and the atmosphere infused with the smells of smoke, roasting meat, fruit, animals, and sweat. The sea breeze was a waft of salty air blowing away a bit of the humidity that floated through the indigo twilight.

  As we walked past huge barrel BBQ pits with rows of quartered chickens and large coolers of beer, I decided that Boleslau was bacchanal and yet mercenary. The street vendors seemed to want attention just long enough to determine if I might be interested in what they were selling. As I shook my head at their offers, their eyes flickered past me. I was discarded as they looked for the next potential customer.

  Still holding my hand, Icarus led me down a side street, and then several minutes later, we arrived at a large, two-story duplex. Skirting the front driveway, we went around the side of the house, taking a paved stone path through thick palm fronds that led to a two-car garage behind the duplex.

  “That’s where Joshua lives,” Icarus said “The garage was converted into an apartment.”

  We walked to the back of the garage and then turned a corner, making our way through a narrow space between the side of the garage and a chest-high chain link fence.

  At the door, Icarus knocked. “Joshua? Open the door. It’s Icarus. Quinn Miller is with me, too. Open up.”

  Moments passed during which my heart raced, as faint sounds of reggae and laughter floated in the air, and a balmy breeze wafted across my skin.

  “Joshua,” Icarus said and then knocked more forcefully. “Open the door.”

  “Maybe you should tell him I have the money he wants,” I whispered, jumping slightly when I heard a faint rustling and then relaxing a bit, realizing it was a lizard, scurrying along the top of the chain fence.

  “But you don’t have the money,” he reminded me.

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t know that,” I said. “Maybe it’ll make him open the door.”

  “I don’t think he’s here,” Icarus said, knocking again and then grabbing the doorknob. “I think maybe—”

  The door opened a crack, and Icarus cursed as he took a step back.

  “How did you open the door?” I asked, my heart racing faster. “Was it unlocked?”

  “I don’t know.” Icarus shook his head. “I guess s
o …”

  “Should we go in?” I asked, wary.

  “I’ll go in,” he said. “You stay here.”

  Deciding not to protest, I nodded reluctantly, folding my arms. Hesitant, Icarus pushed the door open a bit wider and then poked his head inside, calling Joshua’s name before he went into the garage apartment.

  Disgruntled about having to wait outside, I bit my bottom lip and—

  Abruptly, Icarus stepped outside the door. His apprehensive expression made my pulse skyrocket, and I knew something was wrong. “What is it?” I asked.

  “Go back to the Jeep and then call the police,” he instructed.

  “Why?” I demanded, my heart pounding. “What’s going on?”

  “Quinn, just go call the cops,” Icarus said, fear and frustration in his tone.

  Slipping past him, determined to find out what the hell was happening, I pushed the door open and stepped inside the garage apartment. “Oh my God,” I whispered, pressing trembling hands against my mouth as my eyes darted back and forth. Blood seemed to be everywhere. There were splatters all over the sparse furnishings. Splotches stained the walls. Smears on the floor. But the most horrific sight was the trail of bloody spots that traveled from the door to the center of the room, leading to Joshua, who was sprawled on his back with a large knife jutting up from his abdomen.

  Terrified and confused, I turned to Icarus, unsure of what to think, barely aware of his arms encircling me as he guided me out of the door, away from the hellish scene.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Was Joshua Christophe conscious when the two of you got here?” Detective Richland François asked.

  A few hours had passed since Icarus and I discovered Joshua in his apartment, nearly stabbed to death. Upon seeing the bloody mess he’d been left in, I’d automatically assumed Joshua was dead, and summarily, I became hysterical, my mind unable to process the realization that Joshua was the third person I had seen stabbed with a knife.