He put his fingers over his lips, squeezing them mindlessly, lost in thought. “Where did she go after the spa?” he asked.
“I have no idea. We all split up, went back to our huts. I didn’t see her again until dinner.”
“So she must’ve gone back to see Andy. I wonder if she seemed upset when she got back. He didn’t mention if they’d been fighting…”
“Are you going to ask him?” I asked, unable to hide my grimace. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like the best timing.”
“The police are going to be asking when they get here anyway,” he said. “I don’t want to push him, but if we are in danger, I think we all want to know.”
“Well, we know it wasn’t any of us, so who could it be? One of the workers? Manu? I mean, he seems like more of a lover than a fighter, you know? What are the other options—you think there’s a serial killer in the jungle?”
He shook his head, not grinning at what was supposed to be a joke. “I have no idea, but I’ll be glad when the police get here.”
I lowered my glasses over my eyes as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. “I know one thing. I’ll be glad when we can get off this island.”
“Some vacation, right?” He patted his knee with a scoff, staring back out across the water.
“Some vacation…” I paused. I wanted to help, but I didn’t want any fingers pointed at the wrong people. “Hey, Nick, look…I don’t want to start anything, or…or point fingers at anyone. I like Megan. I know I don’t always show it, but I do.” I paused, chewing on the inside of my lip.
“What about her?” he asked defensively.
“It’s probably nothing, but you could ask her what happened at the spa.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
“I’ve told you all I know, but there was one point when Emily and Megan went outside for a while. We’d been waiting on our drinks to be refilled for a while, and Emily offered to go get them. Megan went with her.”
He studied my face, not saying anything. “I’m not saying anything happened,” I went on. “It was probably nothing. But maybe Emily said something to her.” I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s worth a shot, anyway.”
His lips were tight as he nodded then patted my knee. “Thanks. I’ll ask her. You’re right. At this point, we all may know more than we realize. We just need to piece it together. Thanks, Natasha.”
“Anytime,” I told him, opening my book again as he pushed up on his knees, standing up with a groan. “I’m just your average armchair detective. Happy to be of service.”
He paused, knowing me better than most people and recognizing the sarcasm I used as a shield. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
I nodded, thankful my sunglasses would hide the imminent tears. “Always. Let’s just all get home alive, okay?”
His nod was a salute, a promise. When he spoke, it was a vow. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure that happens.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Andy
“Knock, knock,” Laura said, saying the words rather than actually doing the knocking. The sliding glass door was already cracked, but she pushed it the rest of the way open, and she and Megan stepped through.
“We brought you chicken noodle soup and iced tea,” Megan said. “Comfort food and something to keep you cool.”
“The world-renowned chef made chicken noodle soup?” Brad asked from where he sat by the window. He’d been with me all day, sitting quietly, waiting for me to talk, but I had nothing to say. I felt empty, hollow. This was my worst nightmare come true, and I had no one to understand it. None of them liked Emily, anyway. They didn’t care that she was gone. They didn’t understand how I was feeling or how much I was hurting.
“Special request,” Laura quipped, easing down on the bed. She rubbed my ankle carefully. “Andy, do you want to eat something?”
I grunted a response, not bothering to move.
“Come on, sweetie, you need to eat something,” Megan said, sitting beside Laura. They looked up at me as if I were a child. Someone to coddle.
“I’m not hungry…” I croaked, my voice hoarse from hours of screaming and crying. Exactly like a child. I squeezed my eyes shut. I just wanted it to all be over. I wanted to talk to Manu and tell him I wanted to go home early. To be alone. It was too hard being here.
“Well, how about a drink, then?” Laura asked. She leaned closer to me when I opened my eyes, setting the Styrofoam cup and bowl on my nightstand and moving to open a window—all the windows. “It’s so hot in here, and you haven’t had anything to drink. You’re going to dehydrate if you don’t get something in your system.”
“Newsflash, Laura, I already have a mother. I don’t need you to tell me what to do—”
“Easy,” Brad warned, giving me a cold glare. “She’s just trying to help.”
Laura didn’t miss a beat as she moved back toward the bed, a breeze now carrying across the room. I didn’t want to admit how good it felt. I wanted to be hot. Miserable. It was still a better end of the deal than what Emily got. At least I was alive. “We’re really sorry about Emily, Andy.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” I muttered, hardly moving my lips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brad asked, standing up then. If he wanted to fight, I could take him down. I was taller than him, stockier. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care what he did or what I did. I couldn’t feel anything except pain. A vast, empty pain that dulled everything else.
“You know damn well what it means—Laura and Natasha already admitted they didn’t like her.
