by Liz Fenton
“I’ll update you as soon as we know something.”
“It’s not her,” Lauren said and hugged her.
Natalie could feel Lauren’s small body shaking. “I know. It’s definitely not,” Natalie said as they parted, and she turned toward the door. Despite the fact that something in her gut told her that it definitely was. Almost as if the memories locked in her head were whispering to her from beyond the wall they were hiding behind.
She moved as quickly as she could toward Jason’s room, but she felt like she was pushing against the wind, her feet heavy like cement blocks.
She found him on the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him and held him. She saw images of Ashley from college—running across the quad to tell Natalie about a test she’d just taken. She saw her eyes light up when they went to Bed Bath & Beyond and saw the BloBrush on an endcap display for the first time. She saw her on her wedding day, her skin glowing as she walked down the aisle. She realized, now, more than ever, that she needed to see her again. Her huge brown eyes when she had a creative spark. Her twisted lips when she had a surprise. The face she made when she smelled onions. All of it.
“It’s not her, right? Tell me it’s not going to be her,” he finally said.
“It’s not going to be her,” Natalie said, wiping the tears from under her own eyes.
“Garcia is on his way to pick us up. I don’t even want to ride with that corrupt fucker, but I guess we have no other choice.”
Natalie thought of all the stories that had hit the press since he arrived, about nearly every private detail of the investigation. It had to be someone at the police department feeding the information.
They turned when they heard a knock on the sliding glass door. Natalie forced herself up from the bed and opened it.
Maria frowned, her eyes welling with tears. “The policía are here to escort you to the morgue.”
“Thanks—we’re coming in a minute.”
“It’s not going to be her,” Maria said with so much confidence that Natalie believed her. The woman reached out and hugged Natalie, catching her by surprise.
Natalie pulled away gently. Maria half smiled and slid the door closed behind her.
“Are you ready?” Natalie asked.
Jason peered up from his hands, and the look on his face sucked all of the air out of Natalie’s lungs. He looked like a little boy, his eyes full of fear, his lip quivering. She wanted to help him, to reach out and tell him it definitely wasn’t going to be Ashley. But something deep inside her told her it was. She hated herself for thinking it. She tried to push the thought away, but it kept creeping back like an itch.
“No,” he said, his voice shaky. “But we’d better go.”
Natalie grabbed his hand, ice cold to the touch, and they walked in silence to the police car.
Officer Garcia opened the door. They slid across the back seat, and Natalie rested her head against Jason’s shoulder, both of them crying silently off and on. After about an hour, Jason fell asleep against her. Yes, he had been terrible to Ashley while she was alive. But right now, in this hot and dirty squad car, he was all Natalie had.
When they arrived, Officer Garcia woke them. She must have dozed off after Jason did. They followed him into a small room.
“Coffee? Water?” he offered.
Natalie could barely breathe. She couldn’t imagine drinking anything. She shook her head. Jason also declined.
“So like I said to Mr. Green on the phone, a group of tourists—scuba divers—found the body in a cenote just outside Tulum early this morning. We have reason to believe it is Ashley because it matches her physical description, and the clothing is consistent with what you told us she was wearing. But we are going to need you to make a positive ID,” Officer Garcia said.
Natalie flinched as a rush of heat surged through her, and gripped the edge of the table reflexively. She could feel the tip of a memory—knew it was there, the way you know when you’re about to throw up. Her heart raced in anticipation. Jason reached over and wrapped his hand around hers.
Natalie stared at Officer Garcia, wondering if he or someone in the police department had already called TMZ about the body. On the way to the morgue, she had seen another post on the gossip site about how Natalie had gone in for testing yesterday. Sources at the hospital in Mérida said she was being drug tested, but didn’t know why. Natalie had almost thrown her phone out the window, anger boiling inside her as she imagined Dr. Rivera selling her story. How could the media be so cruel? Instead of coming down here and aiding in the search, they were sitting in their offices in Hollywood writing articles with cheap clickbait titles. She vowed never to click on one ever again.
“Will you come with me, Nat?” Jason asked. “I don’t think I can do it alone.”
If it was Ashley’s body, Natalie wasn’t sure she could handle seeing it. Her best friend. Her sister. Lifeless. She already felt a deep pain in her heart just from imagining it. But if it was a reality. If it was her . . . if Natalie’s memory came back . . . if it revealed she had been the one to hurt Ashley, she would break in half, never be the same again. But as she stared into Jason’s vacant eyes, she knew she had to find the strength to get past her own fears. She had to face what she might have done. “Of course,” she said, her insides running cold.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m supposed to be strong, but I just . . .” He put his head in his hands again. “I can’t go in there by myself.”
Natalie turned to Officer Garcia. “I know you said the description and clothing match, but what if you’re wrong? What if it isn’t Ashley? Has that ever happened before?” Natalie remembered the crisp white top Ashley had worn, the way it glowed under the lights when she’d danced. The cutoff jeans shorts and how they hugged her hips. A white shirt and jeans shorts was a common outfit. Surely Ashley couldn’t have been the only woman wearing it that night.
Garcia took a long pause before speaking and gave Natalie and Jason a look she could only liken to pity. Her heart sank. “It has, yes, and I sincerely hope I’m wrong about this, but it’s not just her physical description and clothing that prompted us to call you. According to the physician who certified her death, the deterioration of the body fits the timeline of when Ashley disappeared based on what we know so far. And no one else has reported a Caucasian woman of her age—or even within ten years of her age—missing.” He paused for a moment as if giving them time for his words to sink in. “When you’re ready, please follow me.”
Natalie would never be ready. She looked at Jason and swallowed her tears. Finally, they both stood and followed Officer Garcia down a series of hallways until he came to an unmarked door.
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I have to warn you that because of the overcrowding of unidentified bodies from drug war victims that I mentioned earlier, this isn’t going to be like what you’d see in America. This location doesn’t have as many deceased, and we did pull the body away from the other stacks, but still.”
Natalie couldn’t breathe. She stared at the door and watched Officer Garcia pull it open in what felt like slow motion. Her heart rammed against her rib cage. Was her best friend of twenty years going to be in that room—the girl who taught her how to shotgun a beer, the one who surprised her on her twenty-first birthday with a homemade cake, the one who crocheted Meg a tiny hat when she was born? She prayed it wasn’t her. She wanted decades more of those moments.
It was the smell that hit Natalie first. Her hand flew to her mouth. Piles of what must be bodies wrapped in sheets were stacked on top of each other like sandbags. She gagged and bent over a trash can, spitting into it. Jason rubbed her back. “Shit,” she said, still hovering over it.
When she stood up, she saw that Officer Garcia was watching her, expressionless.
“Do you need to step outside?” Garcia asked.
Yes, I need to step outside and never come bac
k.
“No, it’s okay,” Natalie said, the putrid smell engulfing the room. She fought the urge to gag again.
Officer Garcia said something in Spanish to a small man wearing square eyeglasses—whom he identified as the morgue technician—who walked over to a table where a body lay under a sheet.
Natalie grabbed Jason’s hand. He squeezed hers so hard she flinched but didn’t move it away. The technician looked at Garcia; then he pulled back the sheet. Natalie screamed. Jason let out a deep cry.
Ashley’s face stared back at them.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE NIGHT
ASHLEY
Ashley stood in front of a wall that appeared to have a mural painted on it. She pointed her flashlight at it, the beam illuminating the design—three yellow skulls that seemed to be smiling. She directed the light across a small white sign with “cenote” written on it in black letters, an arrow underneath pointing in the direction of the sinkhole Marco was leading them toward. She glanced up at the archway and thought that it looked more like an entrance to a private residence than a tourist attraction. She said a silent prayer that this place would help her—give her the clarity she needed to make some important decisions about her future.
She looked at Natalie, swaying slightly as she stood next to her. She grabbed her arm to steady her. “You okay?” she asked, wondering what it was going to take to pull Natalie back to her, to make her understand she needed her in her life—not just as her business partner, but as her best friend. Her sister. She’d already lost Lauren. She’d been sure of that when she’d seen the look in her eyes at La Cantina—vacant, cold. As if she were looking at a stranger. She couldn’t lose Nat too.
“I’m fine,” Natalie said, and yawned. “What time is it?”
“It’s twelve forty-five. Nearly one in the morning,” Ashley said after checking her phone.
“We should get going,” Marco said. “The cenote is this way.” He pointed his flashlight beam toward a thick patch of palm trees and bushes. Ashley tried to see what was beyond it, but the tropical forest was too dense.
“You sure you want to do this now?” Natalie asked, her forehead knotted.
“Yes. We leave tomorrow—this is our only chance. And I really need this.”
“You coming?” Marco asked, already a few steps ahead. “It’s so beautiful—I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“He seems so anxious,” Natalie said. “Don’t you think?” She grabbed onto Ashley’s arm and pulled her to a stop.
Ashley gently loosened her wrist from Natalie’s grip. “He’s just excited to show us. Come on,” she said.
Natalie fell in step with her silently as they followed him down a path to a sign with another skull. “The Temple of Doom.”
“Why is it called the Temple of Doom?” Natalie stared at the sign. “And what’s with all the skulls? I thought you said this place was peaceful.”
“The cenote gets its name from the three circular openings in the roof of the cave that resemble the eye sockets and mouth of a skull when viewed from above. The official name is Cenote Calavera. It’s known as the Temple of Doom only because that is the name of the cave system it used to be a part of. I assure you, there will be no doom here.” Marco smiled. “Come, I will show you.”
“Do you really think this is a good idea? Being out here in the pitch-black night alone with him?” Natalie whispered to Ashley as they walked. “We barely know him.”
Ashley sighed. Natalie was always so practical. Such a rule follower. Skeptical to a fault. She slowed down and dropped her voice. “I get how it looks—we’re in the middle of nowhere. In Mexico. And it’s late. But I trust him. So even if you don’t, can you trust me that I know what I’m doing?” Ashley asked.
Natalie didn’t answer. She started walking again. Ashley decided to take her silence as agreement. “Thank you,” Ashley said quietly.
They made their way through the brush, the only light coming from the full moon and the beams of their flashlights flickering through the coconut palm trees.
Suddenly Natalie screamed.
Ashley grabbed her chest, her heart beating hard. “What is it?”
“Did you see that scorpion?” Natalie shone her light down on the jungle floor. Ashley moved back, squinting into the darkness.
“There are a lot of creatures out here, but if you stay away from them, they’ll stay away from you,” Marco said lightly.
Natalie stood, frozen.
“There is also much beauty that is hard to see because it is so dark.” Marco moved his beam around the vegetation. “Like this—the pitahaya—it’s the fruit of a cactus which flowers at night.” He directed his light to a pink-and-green plant.
“It’s beautiful,” Ashley said, reaching out to touch it, rubbing the waxy flower between her fingertips.
“You might know it as dragon fruit back home,” Marco added. “If you sliced it open, it would be white with many seeds. Very sweet. Shall we continue?” he asked.
Natalie scratched at her arms. “I’m getting eaten alive by mosquitoes all of a sudden. What other creatures do I need to be aware of?”
“Nothing to be concerned about,” Marco said. “I would rather show you more of the beauty—there are exotic flowers and many medicinal plants used by Mayan healers. Harmless.”
“Like you?” Natalie asked, her tone sharp.
Ashley snapped her head in the direction of her voice.
“Yeah, just like me,” he said evenly.
“Why should we trust you?” Natalie pressed.
“Natalie!” Ashley called out. “She’s just drunk,” she said to Marco.
“Drunk or not, we’re out here—somewhere in Mexico, I have no idea where. I can barely see my hand in front of my face. There are little creatures running around.” She patted her purse. “I don’t even have my phone to send my location to Ben in case . . . So I think Marco can answer me on this one. Why should we trust you?”
Ashley shot a look at Natalie. What was she doing? She was going to ruin this opportunity. Any second, Marco could tell them to forget it. Drive them back to their hotel and she’d never see him again. She wouldn’t blame him. “Natalie, please . . . ,” Ashley tried. This trip to Tulum needed to have meant something.
“It’s okay, Ash. I’ve got this,” Marco said, his tone confident.
“‘Ash’? She’s Ash to you now?” Natalie’s eyes were bulging.
“Okay.” He held his hands up. “Ashley,” he said gently, giving Natalie a warm smile. “You can trust me. Haven’t I shown you that already this week?”
“Yes, you have,” Ashley jumped in, to try and calm Natalie down.
“I assure you I didn’t bring you out here to kill you.” He laughed and looked sideways at Ashley, who smiled at him.
Natalie’s shoulders slumped, but she didn’t respond. Ashley walked over and stood next to her. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Please just relax,” Marco coaxed. “I’m just here to guide you guys, to help you find your own peace, whatever that may be.”
Ashley held her phone out to Natalie. “Here, do you want to text Ben and tell him where we are and who we’re with? Would that make you feel better?”
Natalie shook her head stubbornly. “But you can see how this looks, right? Two women. One man. Middle of nowhere—”
Ashley grabbed Natalie’s elbow, seeing that they weren’t making any progress with her. She was repeating herself now, a sign of all the alcohol she’d consumed. “Can you give us a minute, please?” Ashley asked Marco.
Marco shrugged, then walked farther down the path, his flashlight beam guiding him.
“What’s your problem?” Ashley asked, once they were alone.
“My problem?” Natalie said, sounding shocked. “How can you not see everything that is wrong with this situation?”
“Why are you questioning him? Marco got us special access to this cenote. He’s trying to help us.” Ashley could feel her irritation bu
bbling inside of her, working its way up. “You talked about feeling disconnected from me and wanting things to be better, but you only seem angry.”
“I went back to his apartment with you because I couldn’t let you go off alone with him,” Natalie said, making a face. “And I did want to reconnect—I tried at Ziggy’s earlier in the week, but you stormed off with Marco to eat carne asada! And when you came back, you gave us a halfhearted apology but really didn’t try any harder after that.”
Ashley fought against her tears. Lauren had accused her of the same thing earlier. When Natalie had come with her tonight, she had hope that she hadn’t lost her too. But if she had lost both of them, she wasn’t sure she could live with that. She thought she had made choices in both of their best interests. If she had been that far off, what did that say about her? “Can you try harder now?” Ashley asked in a small voice. “Please?”
Natalie followed her gaze. “I hope you’re right about him. And that he’s worth it.”
She didn’t elaborate on what she meant, and Ashley didn’t ask. Sometimes it was better to not know.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
THREE DAYS AFTER
NATALIE
Natalie’s loud sobs echoed off the stark mortuary walls. The room began to spin—a blur of dead bodies covered in sheets spiraling past her. Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to burst through. She put her hand over her heart and fought the urge to pass out. To not see Ashley’s face—her blue lips and paperlike skin—lying on that table. Natalie drew short, sharp breaths. Her body tingled. Her legs buckled beneath her; Jason grabbed for her, and he caught her arm, but her knees still hit the floor. She didn’t move, sobbing into the linoleum. Jason picked her up and wrapped her in his arms. He sobbed into her shoulder. She cried hot tears into his chest.
She finally turned, willing the body to belong to someone else when she looked again. But it was still Ashley—or resembled her. Her brown hair was no longer hanging in bouncy curls like she’d styled it, but matted against her head. “Oh my God.”