The Missing

by Kiersten Modglin

  It was the first time he’d ever said those words. “I probably shouldn’t say that, but it’s my only chance and I want to say it before I die.” He hesitated. “Just don’t say it back. It’s way too early for that… You wouldn’t want me to think you’re a stage-five clinger or anything.”

  I snorted through my tears, drying my eyes with the back of my hand as he turned to walk away, touching my shoulder with what I knew would be our last time looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Do me a favor, okay?” he called when he neared the water, unable to turn around and look at me. I heard the tears he was choking back. “Angelo and Analyn Valencia—my parents. Would you check in on them?”

  “I will.” I watched as, at my word, he walked far enough out that he could dive and jumped in, popping up to smile at me one last time. From the distance, we couldn’t see each other's tears, but there was no doubt they were there. I thought then of all the times he’d jumped into the spring near the falls to pop up and ask if I saw him. “I see you,” I whispered, collapsing on the shore as I cried softly, watching him swim out until I couldn’t see him anymore. “I think I love you, too.”

  I sat on the shore as the sun rose high in the sky, my skin scalding hot under its midday glow. I felt numb and broken all at once. Nothing and everything. I cursed the circumstances, the terrible people who had brought us there, and the fact that I hadn’t grabbed onto Noah and loved him as hard as I could and as much as I could while I still had him.

  It took me several seconds too long to recognize the noise behind me as footsteps headed toward me, and I spun around, shocked to see the woman standing there, her white clothes and blonde hair blowing in the breeze.

  “Hello,” she said simply, her hands clasped in front of her. Her smile was small, her bright, green eyes still and calm. In the daylight, I realized she looked to be close to my age and stunning. Her clothes were clean, like I remembered, but these were different than what she’d worn before. How had she managed to find clean clothes?

  I scrambled to my feet. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to send you home,” she said softly. “Your time here on the island is done.” I took in her features—sharp nose, thin lips, the small cleft in her chin—studying her as I tried to make sense of the words.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re the last person alive on the island,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You won, Katy. Well done.”

  “I don’t understand. You’re…you’re with them? The men? I thought you were a hostage, too.”

  She let air out through her nose in a sort of condescending giggle. “No, I’m not a hostage, and neither are you. Not anymore. You’re free to go as soon as you’d like. There’s a boat waiting for you on the other side of the island. You’ll be returned to your port and given one hundred thousand dollars to buy your…discretion”—she flashed an evil grin—“about your activities here.”

  “One hundred thousand…” I tried to catch my breath. “I don’t understand. Why are we here? That’s it? They just die and I go home, and we all just return to our lives?”

  “Exactly,” she said simply.

  “But why? What are you experimenting on? Why would you do this to us?”

  “I don’t want you to concern yourself with that,” she said. “All you need to know is that your time here is done.”

  “But who are you? Why are you here? Why am I here?”

  There was a pause, and I thought she was going to refuse to answer, but eventually she said, “My name is Ms. Sheridan. And you’re here because I picked you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  BEFORE

  As with every time before, as we headed out for our vacation, we kept the plan simple.

  Each couple boarded the plane separately, each of us taking different flights from different airports to different destinations. There could be no connecting us to one another.

  Once we’d arrived in sunny Southwest Florida, we’d rent a car, call an Uber, bike, kayak, or travel by whatever means necessary to our meeting spot.

  It was never the same, not the same town or the same type of resort. We’d choose who got to claim first—usually by drawing straws—and decide on an area where we’d choose our picks. There was no preparation for who we’d choose. We each got to spend just a few hours watching them and had to make the decision with our gut more than anything. What the others didn’t realize, even Barrett, was that, as a con woman, my gut was often all I had.

  By this point, we’d all developed our strategies, and our game was stronger than ever. I knew this round would be better than ever before. We chose the Keys this time, stopping into nearby bars, restaurants, and resorts to make our selections.

  Eve and Kyle picked the man with thick glasses we’d watched for two hours doing nothing but reading books and playing trivia at a tiki bar. He was smart, they’d reasoned, and could get himself further with his knowledge than any form of brute strength.

  Amber and Matt had chosen the young girl, beautiful and edgy with her deep almond eyes, ebony skin, and charming smile. They were copying the strategy that had almost won it for me last time, choosing a girl the boys would fall in love with and do anything to protect. Their mistake was choosing someone too young to see reason, someone impulsive.

  Of course, Roman chose the youngest man, James, with thick biceps and an angry look we’d seen on full display when he’d nearly gotten into a fight outside of a beachside motel. He was someone anyone with no experience of how our game worked would choose. Someone whose stubbornness and rage would end up getting him killed. It was the third time he’d made the same mistake. Honestly, Roman would never learn strategy. Or maybe he was just hoping his strategy would eventually pay off.

  Josie and Dan found their pick—a Southeast Asian man we’d watched playing volleyball for hours on end with a group of players, who’d brushed off anyone who came near him to chat in a passive-aggressive way. They believed he wouldn’t make any connections, that he’d keep a clear head and eyes on the goal. Dan was determined to win this year. Besides Roman, they were the only ones who hadn’t claimed a victory yet.

  And, of course, Barrett and I found our pick, the best of all, at a resort in Key West. She was beautiful and lonely, a deadly combination, and I’d watched her spending most of her time reading books, which I hoped would mean she’d know nearly as much as the trivia man. On top of that, she was older than the youngest girl, meaning she’d have her wits about her. She’d be able to reason, to use her better judgment, and think critically in life-threatening situations.

  The next morning, once we’d selected our champions, Roman had some of his staff prepare the boats and the nine of us boarded his private jet, setting off for our island, where we would relax and wait for them to arrive. And sure enough, by the evening, the boat had delivered the five of them to us and the game had begun.

  The first day was always fun for me, watching from our television screens as the cameras we had planted around the island showed them struggling to make sense of what had happened. Then, once Dan had delivered the note to their camp, they’d realize what was going on.

  They’re always reluctant to get the challenge going, so we were used to waiting some time before the first round ended with the death of a pick, the loss of one of the teams. This group, though, they’d been stubborn. The game had lasted over a month longer than the last, making it our longest game yet.

  I’d had my doubts about Katy for a bit, wondering if I’d judged her incorrectly, but in the end, the strategy had won out. Dan and Josie’s pick, Noah, had fallen hard for her and sacrificed himself. So, while my pick hadn’t exactly stormed her way to victory, my gut instinct, to pick someone others would want to protect, had delivered us to the winner’s seat and made us four million dollars richer.

  That’s right, four million dollars. Five if you counted the money we’d put in as well.

  The first challenge had happened five years ago, when I
was still just Barrett’s mistress. He’d loved me, of course, more than anything, but his wife made it impossible for him to leave. Doing so would’ve cost him everything, his company, his fortune… I couldn’t let that happen.

  I wrote him a note, the one he still has, the one that he says started it all. That made him feel like he could have true happiness with me.

  I can kill your wife for you.

  So when he’d first invited me to his island, my initial inclination was to say no—spiders, snakes, and sharks are the top of my hell no list, but when he insisted it was time for me to meet his friends, I began to formulate the plan. A week later, we'd spent an evening with his group of friends on their island, him buttering them up for their secrecy about me, and them badgering me about what I did for a living and what sort of car I drove, so I gave them a half-truth.

  “I’m an analyst,” I told them. In truth, I spent my days analyzing people. Figuring out how to dupe them. And my endeavors had made me rich. Granted, not filthy rich, like Barrett Laguna. Not private jet rich. Not buy an island online with your four best friends because you’re drunk and it’s funny rich. But rich enough, if there was such a thing.

  So I spent the night finding the weak spots in the group, figuring out who to coax, where to push, when to let off the gas.

  By the end of the night, I knew Roman had an ex-boss he’d like to teach a lesson to. I knew Amber’s best friend had slept with her husband years ago and she’d never forgiven her. I knew Kyle had an employee who’d lost him nearly a billion in a deal gone wrong. I knew there was a client threatening to sue Josie for so much, her practice might go under. And, of course, I knew Barrett had a wife who desperately needed to be taken out of the picture.

  So, with a push here and a prod there, I’d goaded them into imagining how funny it would be to put all five of our enemies into a room and watch them fight to the death.

  “Gina would die if she couldn’t have her oat milk latte by nine a.m.,” Amber said.

  “Darren’s fat ass would die without air conditioning,” Kyle joked.

  I let the conversation carry for a bit before adding the final element, the thing I knew it would need to work. I enticed them with the one thing no one in that room could say no to: money.

  “We could make it interesting,” I’d said calmly, slowly, as if it didn’t matter to me much at all. “We’d each put in a million. Winner takes all.”

  There’d been uneasy laughter from each of them, and a general sense of impossibility.

  “But wouldn’t it be nice,” one of them had said. I forget now who it was. I didn’t say much else. I’d dropped the bomb, created the niggle in their brains, and I’d walk away. If I was any good at what I did—spoiler alert: I was damn good—we’d be laying the plan into motion within a year.

  The next month, Barrett got the call. They wanted to know if we could actually make it work. If I was serious.

  I told them I was. Deadly so.

  Six months, and a million dollar loss later, my husband’s wife was dead, and I’d just stumbled into my biggest win yet.

  I took on many different names in my profession, Ms. Sheridan, Ms. Danes, Erica Spelling, Noelle Barton, Ms. Smith… The list went on. But my favorite name, the one I’d take the most pride in for the rest of my life, was the one I’d taken on a year after that day, when I became Mrs. Jessica Laguna—part-time con woman, full-time love of his life.

  The next summer, they were ready to do it again. Strangers, this time. Roman needed to prove to Kyle he wasn’t going to lose to him so easily. And so, the tradition was born.

  Win or lose, I never cared. As a con artist, I’d pulled off the biggest con of all already. I’d gotten the man and his fortune. The rest was just icing on the cake.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  PRESENT DAY

  Ms. Sheridan had me follow her across the shore, walking several feet in front of me, her arms swinging at her sides as if this were just another sunny day in her life, and not the worst of mine.

  As we made our way around the island, losing sight of our campsite and the only home I’d known for what felt like so long, I began to see the end of a boat. This was different from the one that had brought me here, and I briefly felt fear, rather than the relief I’d been expecting.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to set foot on a boat again after this.

  “Will you be riding back with me?” I called ahead.

  “Oh, no. I have other ways of going home. No, you’ll be taken back with some of our employees.” She slowed her stride slightly as we grew closer, and I saw her glance back at me. “And don’t worry about the bodies. Our employees will clean them up, and no one will ever know you were involved in any of this.”

  I shuddered at the way she’d phrased that. “I didn’t mean to do it… I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, sickly sweet, though we were the same age and she didn’t need to use pet names for me, “I know that. Of course, I do. I’m not faulting you for what happened. I’m just glad you survived.”

  She stopped when the boat had come into full view. “And”—her voice was lower now—“just between us, I know you wouldn’t, but I want to make sure you understand you can never tell anyone what happened over here. Not about the people you were with or that this place even exists. If your family, your friends, or anyone else asks where you were or what happened, you’re to tell them you were lost at sea after a storm and that a ship found you, alone, and returned you home. If they ask too many questions, deflect. Tell them you don’t have any memory of what happened. Tell them the crew that returned you didn’t speak English and sailed away after they dropped you back off at the resort. Whatever you do, you must refuse to tell anyone the truth. The crew will have you ride home below deck so you can’t tell which direction you came from, just in case you were to have any funny ideas.” She smiled. “But I don’t think that’ll be an issue, will it? You’re a smart girl.”

  There was something empty behind her eyes. Cold. It chilled me more than anything else that had happened. Whatever was going on here, I wanted no part of it.

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “Good. I’d just hate for you to get into trouble. You understand. And, when you arrive, you’ll be given the hundred thousand in cash for all your troubles. Just don’t spend it all in one place.” I felt sick to my stomach watching her smile and laugh as if everything could be solved with money. As if heartbreak had a price tag.

  “What about the police? The news stations? Won’t someone want to know how I got back to shore?”

  She waved off the concern. “Oh, we’re friends with some very powerful people. We’ve taken care of it and made sure no one even knows you were gone. And those who do won’t be able to get anywhere with their theories.” She winked. “Come on now, we’ve got to get you on your way. I’m sure you’re dying to get home. No pun intended.” Her smile spread too wide, her teeth too white behind pale, pink lips. “I know I am.”

  “Why did you help me?” I asked, it being the question I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “Because, my dear, I wanted you to win.” She said it so simply, as if that made any sense to me, but before I could ask anything else, she gestured behind me. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to go now. We really do have to keep on a schedule. I have a flight to catch.”

  I looked away, stepping onto the small boat that would take me to the larger one that would take me home. A man helped me on board without a word. Did he know what was going on? Was he in on it, too?

  The engine started up, and he steered me toward the larger boat. Once I was on board, he shuffled me toward the lower deck, and I glanced toward the island one last time with tears in my eyes.

  I will never forget you, I vowed silently to the friends I was leaving behind and the place that would shape the rest of my life.

  The man nudged me forward gently without a word, and I went where he guided me, walking into a dark room with
no windows. He departed from the room and shut the door behind him. I heard the engine rev up and closed my eyes, resting against a nearby wall. I’d be on the boat for hours ahead, just like the ride in had taken, but this journey would be made completely alone.

  I thought back to the boat ride in, unable to keep my mind from drifting there, and saw Noah’s face, the way he’d smiled at me the first day, remembered the way he and Ava had danced together, the way James had chatted and laughed with the bartender, and Harry had sat alone with his book, drinking beer and staring out on the horizon. How would I ever explain to Ned the way these people had shaped me? What they meant to me now?

  The time passed slowly, the boat’s rocking making me seasick, the near-silence deafening after a month or more with the ocean’s roar as a constant source of noise. But eventually, I heard the engine shut off, heard the sounds of people all around, and I saw the light peek through the crack of the door.

  The noise was louder then. Music. Voices. We’d reached our port. I heard a DJ talking on a microphone, children laughing as they played, and seagulls cawing overhead.

  The man led me toward the edge of the boat, where I could disembark via a metal ramp. He handed me a backpack when I reached the dock and climbed back on board without a word. Within seconds, the boat was pulling away, and I was alone.

  Alone, yet surrounded by thousands of people.

  Every noise was loud and frightening, and I kept worrying that everyone I passed would recognize me or begin to ask questions. How was I supposed to go back to normal after this?

  I made my way toward the bar with the loud DJ and approached the counter. It took the bartender a while to notice me and, when he did, he didn’t attempt to hide his grimace. “Can I help you?”

  “Do you have a phone I could borrow?” He looked me up and down, and I knew what I must look like. Hairy, dingy, and dirty, with blood still caked under my fingernails, unwashed hair, and a bathing suit bleached by the sun and permanently filthy. If I were in his position, I may not have wanted to help either.