Jason and Caleb emerged into the clearing, nodded hello to Claire as she headed back toward her cabin, and joined me and Imogen.
“That was awfully close,” I said.
“But awfully successful,” Jason said. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Claire was gone, then ran back a short distance and grabbed something from behind a large bush. He held it up for us to see—a metal box of some kind, the size of a microwave oven. “Check it out.”
“Come on,” Caleb said. His voice was grim. “Let’s go into your cabin and see what we have.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Alice
The five of us—Nick was still with Rahim and no one knew where Chad was—sat on the floor around the object the guys had found under Warren and Claire’s bed.
“It’s a digital safe,” Jason said. “The kind you get in fancy hotel rooms.”
It looked pretty heavy-duty. “I don’t suppose you found a key to go with that,” I said.
Jason smirked. “You forget who you’re talking to. Locks are my friends.”
Imogen pushed a few random numbers. Nothing happened. “You know the code or something?” she asked.
Jason shook his head. “Given the quality of everything else around here, I’m guessing they cheaped out on the safe too.” He gave it a gentle shake, like he was feeling the weight of it. “And if I’m right, I can bounce it.”
“Bounce it?” Caleb asked.
“Yeah. See, the code slides open a dead bolt—well, two dead bolts usually.” He gestured to the non-hinged side of the door. Then he lifted the front edge of the safe a few inches and dropped it against the floor, turning the locking knob at the same time. “If it’s a decent safe, the dead bolts will have counterweights. Cheap safe? No counterweights, so you can bounce the dead bolts open for a sec.” He dropped it again, turning the lock.
“It’s not working,” Mandy said.
“Give me a freakin’ minute. It sometimes takes a few tries…” Jason dropped the front edge of the safe again, and again, and again… “And we’re in,” he said, swinging the door open. “Excellent.”
“No way,” Imogen said, and Jason grinned.
“My area of expertise,” he said. “I can pick locks of all kinds. Not that I have any of my tools with me. Luckily, safe bouncing doesn’t require anything but good timing.”
We looked inside, practically knocking our heads together to see. “Here,” I said. “Let me take the stuff out, okay? One thing at a time.”
“Why you?” Caleb said. “Jason and I found the safe.”
I ignored him. “And we should try to preserve any fingerprints. In case any of this ends up being evidence.” I looked around. “I don’t suppose anyone has a pair of gloves.”
Mandy pulled a ziplock bag out of her pocket. “Would this work?”
I took it from her, shook out what appeared to be muffin crumbs and slipped it over my hand. There was a shelf across the middle of the safe. What looked like a bright-fuchsia purse—Claire’s, presumably—was jammed into the bottom half, beneath the shelf, and an assortment of objects sat on top of it.
“Cell phone,” I said. “Locked though.” I looked at Jason, who shook his head.
“Not my thing,” he said. “Sorry.”
Mandy sighed. “I miss my phone so much…”
“Another cell, and another.” I put them down on the floor, side by side.
“Claire, Rahim and Warren,” Caleb said. “Gotta lock up your valuables if you’re spending a week on an island with a bunch of delinquents.”
I nodded, picking up a brown leather wallet and riffling through it—which wasn’t easy with a plastic bag for a glove. “It’s Rahim’s. Forty bucks, driver’s license, credit cards, library card…nothing interesting.” I put it down beside the phones. “Any guess who this one belongs to?” I held up a camo-patterned wallet.
“Get on with it,” Caleb said.
“Credit cards. Two hundred bucks. C-Tow membership. Driver’s license…” I put it down. “And there’s a necklace here that must be Claire’s. That’s it for the top shelf.”
“I’m going to be so disappointed if we don’t find anything,” Imogen said. “Jason, are you sure you can’t hack into the phones?”
He shook his head.
“There’s still this,” I said, pulling out the purse.
Mandy’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.”
I froze. “What? What?”
“That’s an Ethan K bag! It’s crocodile! Do you know what those cost?”
Imogen laughed. “Claire the vegan has a crocodile purse? That’s awesome.”
Mandy reached out to stroke it, but I pulled it away. “Fingerprints, Mandy!”
“Like, five thousand dollars, I bet,” Mandy said. “Or more. Like, a lot more.”
She was practically drooling. I didn’t get it. Why would anyone spend that on a bag? I opened it. “Wallet,” I said, pulling out a slim turquoise leather wallet. “Same as the others. Cards. Fifty bucks. Nothing personal.” I opened the purse wider. There was a plastic bag stuffed in there. I pulled it out and opened it. “Holy shit.” I tipped the contents onto the floor: Rahim’s insulin bottles—empty, unfortunately—and a jumble of used syringes.
“No way,” Imogen breathed. “Does that mean…what does that mean? Did Claire…?”
“Careful,” Caleb said. “Don’t want anyone getting jabbed.”
I picked up the bottles one by one, lining them up on the floor, and began removing the syringes. In my neighborhood, you get plenty of practice picking up used needles. There are sharps containers mounted on the telephone poles for disposing of them.
“No way,” a voice said from behind me. “You guys are shooting up?”
Chad was back.
“Not exactly,” Caleb said. “Where’ve you been, anyway?”
“Took a nap.” Chad dropped to his knees beside Jason. “Holy shit. Is that Rahim’s insulin? Where’d you find this?”
“Under Warren and Claire’s bed,” Caleb said.
“Holy shit,” Chad said again. “Hey, what’s that?” He reached out to pick something up, but Jason grabbed his arm.
“Mind the needles—” Jason stopped abruptly as he spotted what Chad had seen among the syringes. “No way.”
Caleb and I both reached for it, but I got there first. I picked it up, a twisted little piece of metal with a wire dangling from it.
“What is that?” Mandy asked.
“Missing piece from the radio,” Jason said.
Mandy clasped her hands together like she was praying. “Can you fix it?”
“I said I was good with electronics, not that I could work miracles.” Jason inspected it closely, his face nearly touching my hand. “It’s been smashed up.”
I put the radio piece down beside the row of bottles. “So that’s it, isn’t it?”
“What?” Jason said.
“This was in the counselors’ cabin. Rahim didn’t dump his own insulin, and Warren…well, he’s dead and buried.” I pointed in the direction of the woods.
“Buried?” Mandy’s voice rose.
“Metaphorically speaking,” Caleb said quickly, and I realized we hadn’t filled Mandy in on our nighttime adventures. The spur-of-the-moment funeral popped into my mind; it felt completely surreal.
“Anyway,” I went on, “that just leaves Claire, doesn’t it? This stuff…” I nodded at the safe in front of me. “She hid this stuff.”
“Not necessarily. Warren could have stolen the insulin and killed himself with it,” Jason argued. “He could’ve injected himself and hidden the evidence before he got too sick.”
“Why would he though?” I asked.
“Because he killed Tara,” Caleb said. “Maybe it was an accident, and he got rid of the body to cover it up, but then he was overcome with guilt?”
“He seemed totally fine and normal right up till he got sick,” Imogen pointed out.
“What about the way he was acting at lunch?” I said.
“Like he was drunk. Is that what happens if you shoot yourself up with insulin?”
Caleb shook his head. “Nick might know.”
“It’s how he’d act if he took my Xanax,” Mandy said.
I pulled the now mostly empty purse closer to me and started checking the various compartments. “Lipstick. Tampon. Advil. Breath mints. Pen. Movie stub. A couple of receipts—groceries, drugstore. And—wait, what’s this?” I pulled out a tightly folded piece of paper that had been tucked into the silky purse liner and smoothed it out. “It’s a letter,” I said, reading quickly. “Um, a love letter.”
“From Warren?” Mandy asked. “That’s so sad.”
Caleb pushed in close to me and began reading aloud. “Dear Claire, my perfect, beautiful Claire…”
Imogen stuck her tongue out and made a gagging noise, and everyone shushed her.
“It is amazing to me that there was ever a time I didn’t know you,” Caleb read. “My feelings for you get stronger every day. No one has ever confided in me like you do and told me about all their feelings. I feel like we have both gone through so much and understand each other so much too. You are my moon and my stars and my sun…”
“That last bit’s e.e. cummings,” I said. “Not even original. And it’s not right either. It’s supposed to be my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”
Caleb stopped reading and turned to me. “Seriously, Alice?”
“Sorry. You’re right. Plagiarism isn’t the point.” I jabbed my finger at the end of the note. A name was scrawled there that I couldn’t quite read, but it began with an N. “Actually, none of this slop is the point. That is. The signature.” I looked around at the others. “The letter’s not from Warren. Claire was having an affair. That’s why she hid the letter.”
Caleb studied the signature. “It’s from Noah,” he said. “Whoever that is.”
There was a silence.
I knew I’d heard that name recently, but I couldn’t remember where.
“Tara’s boyfriend,” Chad said. “Dude threw himself in front of a train, remember?”
“Oh my god, he’s right.” Imogen looked at me. “Claire was having a fling with Tara’s boyfriend? That’s…”
“Could be why she didn’t want us encouraging Tara to find out who Noah was having an affair with,” I said slowly. “Remember? Tara was talking about how she knew his passwords, how she was going to check his email when she got back home.”
“And she never had the chance,” Caleb said flatly.
“Noah was probably our age, right?” Imogen said. “I wonder how Claire met him.”
“Tara said Noah was seeing a counselor,” I reminded her.
Imogen nodded slowly. “Right. And if it got out that she’d had a relationship with a client, that’d be the end of her career.”
“And her marriage,” Mandy added. “Warren wouldn’t have put up with that.”
“I think she could go to jail,” I said. “If he was underage and she was his counselor? That’s a position of trust, right? Remember that teacher who had an affair with her student? It was all over the news. She got jail time.”
“Well, there you have it,” Chad said. “Claire must’ve killed Tara to shut that shit down.”
“Killed her?” Mandy’s hands flew to her face. “But I like Claire! And she was so nice to me!” she wailed. “About my pregnancy, I mean.”
“You’re pregnant?” Chad asked.
“She’s not pregnant,” I said. My mind was whirring, trying to put all the pieces into place. “After that first session, maybe Claire decided she couldn’t risk Tara going home. She left her that note…”
“Signed my name,” Caleb said bitterly.
“Because she figured Tara liked you,” I told Caleb. “And she did.”
He ducked his head but not fast enough to hide the glint of tears in his thick eyelashes.
“So Claire met Tara on the beach,” Imogen said. “And what? Killed her somehow?”
It all sounded so farfetched.
“Probably stabbed her with a kitchen knife,” Chad said. “Or sat her down on a log for a chat and came up behind her and hit her with a rock. Easy.”
“There was blood on the log,” I said.
We sat there for a few seconds, trying to take it in. I felt sick to my stomach, picturing the blood on the beach, imagining Tara lying there, dying.
I put the letter down. “Should we confront Claire? Or—”
“We don’t know for sure,” Caleb cut in. “I mean, it’s not necessarily the same Noah.”
“Some coincidence,” I said, pushing aside a flicker of doubt.
“Granted, but coincidences do happen. And Warren could’ve killed himself.” Caleb looked around at everyone. “To be honest, I agree. I think Claire did it. But we don’t have solid proof.”
“I think we should pretend not to know anything,” Imogen said. “Like, don’t spook her. Make her feel safe. Hang on until the boat comes on Saturday and then call the cops once we’re safe.”
Jason shook his head. “If she notices the safe is missing, we’re screwed.”
We all looked down at the evidence piled on the floor. “We could put it back,” I said slowly. “Minus the evidence. As long as she didn’t open it, she wouldn’t know we’d found out.”
“She would though,” Mandy said. “To get her purse out.”
Imogen nodded slowly. “You think it’d be better if she thought we’d taken the whole safe? She’d probably figure we couldn’t open it.”
“We can’t put it back anyway. Not without getting her out of the staff cabin,” Jason said. “Any ideas?”
I suddenly felt bone tired. “Maybe Mandy could fake another crisis.”
“I don’t want to be alone with her,” Mandy protested. “Not if she’s, like, a murderer.”
“Wait, what about the insulin?” Imogen asked. “Did Claire use that to finish Tara off?”
I shook my head. “It disappeared later. Maybe she killed Warren with it.”
“Why would she though?” Mandy said. “I mean, if she killed Tara to protect her marriage…”
“Maybe he found out,” Jason suggested. “Or maybe Claire said it was an accident and Warren helped her get rid of the body, but she didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut. Or…”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I mean, I want to know too, but we’ve got a bigger problem at the moment. We’re pretty sure Claire’s a psycho, and right now she’s in the staff cabin with Rahim and Nick. What if she…” My words caught in my throat. “We have to warn Nick. Get him out of there.” I looked around at the others. No one was jumping up to volunteer.
“Maybe we should confront her,” Jason said. “All of us together.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “If she was willing to kill to cover up an affair with a client, I don’t suppose she’d be opposed to killing again to cover up a murder.”
“It’s one against seven,” Jason pointed out.
“What if she has a gun?” I said.
Jason folded his arms across his chest. “If she had a gun, wouldn’t she have used it on Tara?”
“Not if she wanted it to look like a suicide,” I said.
There was a long silence. Caleb broke it. “Show of hands for confronting Claire tonight.”
Jason’s hand went up halfway.
“Show of hands for acting normal and waiting until tomorrow, at least.”
The rest of us put up our hands.
“I’m going over to the staff cabin now though,” I said. “To get Nick out of there.”
“I’ll go with you,” Caleb said, getting to his feet.
“I’ll be fine,” I said.
Imogen laughed. “Let me guess—you’re both oldest children, right?”
“Only child,” Caleb and I said in unison, and everyone laughed.
“What?” I said, annoyed.
“Don’t be mad.” Imogen nudged me. “Just, you both like to be in charge, that’s all. It’s no
t a bad thing.”
“I wasn’t taking charge,” Caleb said stiffly. “I thought we’d agreed no one would go anywhere alone.”
I shook my head. “It’ll be less suspicious if I go on my own, right? I’ll pretend I have to talk to Nick about something personal.”
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Chad snorted. “You and Nick? Ha. Like that’s believable.”
I got to my feet and glared at him. “I wish Claire had cracked you on the head while she was at it.”
“Not funny,” Caleb said.
“Sorry.” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, come and find me.”
“Five,” Caleb said. “You’ve got five.”
* * *
To my relief, when I knocked on the door to the staff cabin, it was Nick who opened it. “Alice. Hi.”
“How’s Rahim?”
Nick looked exhausted, with dark bruise-like circles under his eyes. “Not so good.”
I could hear someone moving around in the master bedroom. Claire. I hoped to god she wouldn’t look under her bed. “Can I talk to you?” I said loudly. “Privately? I had this fight with Imogen. I think she’s breaking up with me.”
“Oh shit, really?” He turned and called out, “Claire, I’m going outside with Alice for a few minutes. Can you watch Rahim?”
“No problem,” Claire called back.
I shivered. She sounded so normal.
“Not that Rahim’s going anywhere,” Nick said, following me outside. “He’s unconscious. I don’t think he’s going to make it until Saturday, Alice. We need to figure out some way to get help.”
“Tell me about it,” I said. I grabbed his arm, pulled him a few feet away from the cabin and, in a low voice, filled him in on everything that had happened. His eyes got wider and wider as he took it all in.
“Holy shit,” he said when I finished. “Claire. Wow.”
“You can’t stay here,” I said. “We’re all going to sleep in the girls’ cabin tonight. We’ll barricade the door.”
“What about Rahim?” Nick said.
I’d suspected he was going to say that. “It won’t make a difference either way, will it?” I said. “I mean, he’ll make it until Saturday or he won’t.”
Nick shook his head. “I’m not leaving him alone with a murderer. And if he wakes up—he’s in and out—I want to be here for him.”
Blood on the Beach Page 14