Page 25 of Tell Me Your Lies

After returning from my adopted parents’ house, I drop by Lucas’ room. Although it’s hard to call it a bedroom; it’s more like Isabelle’s with a separate sitting room, a bar area and a balcony leading to the pool. I smile at him when he opens the door and looks at me with both eyebrows raised. “Hi Lucas, I was wondering if you could give me a bit of advice?”

“Sure.” He stands to one side and waves me into the sitting room. He moves two guitars from the sofa and leans them against the wall. “Take a seat. What’s on your mind?”

I’m not sure what it is about Lucas but I feel at ease with him. I’m guessing it’s because of his nonchalant attitude. He seems relaxed all the time. “I have never been to a party on a yacht before. I don’t know what to wear and to be perfectly honest, being trapped out at sea with people I don’t know is a little concerning. I have heard rumors about Linc’s entourage and, well, I’m just not that kind of girl.”

“Oh, man, have you got things twisted.” Lucas’ smile spreads across his entire face and his eyes sparkle with amusement. “I figure the stories go way back, maybe when the guys were in their twenties. These days they just sit around and drink and talk about old times. I figure that’s what these old-timers do for entertainment. The ones my age jam—and yeah, there are girls but I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He chuckles. “The gigs are the problem. Women look at my dad and other members of the band as sex objects. He doesn’t discourage them either; in fact, he plays it up to the hilt. There are two of the original members left, the others are around my age and they get stuck right into it. My dad likes his sleep and usually slips away to his hotel room. I figure he only acts like he’s interested—but really what he does is none of my business, so don’t ask.” He wiggles his eyebrows and grins. “Since my divorce, I’ve been keeping a very low profile and concentrating on my music.” He sighs. “I’ve never given much thought about what guests wear on the yacht. It is quite cool, late at night at sea. The wind picks up and the waves spray the deck. I usually wear my jeans, a T-shirt and I take a jacket in case I plan on going on deck to get away from the noise. If I had my choice, I wouldn’t go at all but we’ve worked hard on the songs and if I don’t show, I’ll disappoint my dad.” He gives me a long considered stare. “It’s weird, I really like you—you’re really hot—shit! Am I allowed to say that? Sorry!” He laughs. “The thing is, I don’t feel any chemistry between us, as in, I know you don’t find me attractive.”

The sudden switch in the conversation surprises me. I smile. “Lucas, you’re a good-looking guy, but I’ve never thrown myself at men. Truthfully, I feel comfortable with you, as if you’re a longtime friend. I find your music mesmerizing and I could listen to you playing all day.”

“Aw, that’s nice. Look, if you’re worried about the old man’s entourage, stick beside me tonight and the guys will leave you alone.” He pushes away from the wall where he’s been leaning. It’s obviously time for me to go.

I need to ask him one more question. “How do you know I’m not interested in you, romantically?”

“Most times, women can’t talk around me and give me doe eyes.” He snorts with laughter. “But I can have a real conversation with you.” He opens the door. “I’ll meet you in the piano room at eight forty-five. I’ll walk with you to the dock. You’ll be safe with me.” He gives me a dazzling smile. “Just keep away from Oliver. He turns into a werewolf on a full moon.” He winks. “It’s always the quiet ones, you know?”

I stand, shaking my head, and grin at him. “Thanks, Lucas.”

THIRTY-FOUR

I’m sick with worry about the party. Out on the ocean anything can happen and chances are if someone wants to get rid of me, my body will never be found. The problem is, I’m determined to discover what happened to Jenny. I must swallow my fear and keep moving forward. Maybe the party will loosen their tongues—I must try; this might be my only chance. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, unsure if my appearance is acceptable. I want to look good but not as if I’m trying to attract anyone. I decide on white chinos, T-shirt and jacket. The highlights in my hair look good. I usually tie it at the nape but tonight my hair hangs loose in a silken fall past my shoulders. I add pale lipstick but keep my makeup as natural as possible. I slip on flat shoes. The idea of being tossed around on deck in heels is just too dangerous. I check my watch, pick up my purse and head downstairs. I’m surprised to see Lucas waiting for me. He is sending his guitars ahead with one of the security guys.

“Hey. Ready to party?” Lucas grins at me. “The paparazzi are everywhere. Stick close to my side, at least until we get onto the yacht. We’ll give them time to take their pictures and then we’ll head out to sea.” He holds out his hand. “Come on, let’s make some news.”

There are people all through the house chatting and trying to stop Lucas to speak to him. He ignores them and pushes through with his bodyguard clearing the way. We head along the well-lit path to the dock with people following close behind. It’s a longer walk than I expect and as we head down the hill, I see the yacht lit up like a movie premiere, with its white hull glowing against the dark water. Along the side the name Black Valentine sends a shiver through me. I keep telling myself Linc named it after the song, not the murder.

Small boats are everywhere. Cameras flash and paparazzi shout Linc’s name as he walks up the gangway with Isabelle on his arm. As we get closer, the thump of a bass vibrates the wooden dock under my feet. As chaos encloses me, Lucas’ grip on my hand tightens. A security guy with wide shoulders and huge muscles nods to Lucas, who gives him my name to check off a list on a clipboard.

“ID.” The security guard stares at me. “You don’t go any further unless I check you’re at least twenty-one.” He gives Lucas a side eye. “Mr. Boswell insisted, I’m sorry.”

I fish out my license and hand it to him. “I’m twenty-five but thanks for the compliment.”

He hands it back and waves me toward the yacht. My knees tremble as I walk up the gangway. The camera flashes persist, blinding and disorienting me to a degree where Lucas slips his hand around my waist and pulls me against him. The next moment we’re on deck and a miasma of aromas hit me: salt air, expensive perfume, spilled champagne and something else sweet I don’t recognize. With my feet firmly on the deck, I look around as the last few passengers jump aboard. The yacht is massive and bigger than I could have ever imagined. Lights wrap around the railings, soft gold against the night. As the yacht pulls away from the dock, the ocean stretches out and we leave the lights of civilization behind us. Paparazzi boats circle like hungry sharks, their camera flashes popping all around us, but soon we pull away, bumping through the waves and out into the dark endless ocean.

“This is the party deck.” Lucas smiles at me. “Dance floor, bar, hot tub. Most of the action is here but it moves around all night. After midnight the party usually moves to the upper decks.”

I stagger to a seat and look up at Lucas. “I’ll be fine here thanks. Go and celebrate.”

“Just come and get me if you need me—or you get bored. Allison is around somewhere too. She’d probably enjoy the company. Mom never leaves home without her. She’ll have her waiting in a corner somewhere.” He heads into a crowd and snatches up his guitar.

I take a champagne flute from a passing waiter as the yacht finally slows and drops anchor. Music throbs through the soles of my feet and I clutch my drink tighter as Linc belts out a chorus with one arm slung around a young woman. The change in him is remarkable. This is not the relaxed family man I met previously, this is the rock god, the charismatic animal he becomes the moment he walks in front of his fans. The dark lines around his blue eyes make them appear black—satanic. His voice is hoarse and his grin feral as the crowd roars, cheering as if he is on stage. The song finishes and the girl beside him laughs as if he’s whispering something wicked to her. I can feel his magnetism, it’s infectious and has mesmerized the guests. I meet his gaze across the crowded deck and he raises his drink in a lazy salute as if we are old friends.

Behind him, Lucas is perched on the railing, playing a soulful riff on a Stratocaster as if lost in his music. His long black hair swirls unrestrained around his face but he stares into the night as if oblivious to everyone around him. Scantily clad girls hover close by giggling every time he looks at them. He ignores them but tosses back his hair as if soaking up the adoration. I move my attention past the crowd to the bar and see Oliver looking stiff and uncomfortable and clutching a soda like it’s a lifeline. He is watching me again. Perhaps that’s his job for the night, to keep tabs on me?

As the music starts up again, I see Mia dancing barefoot near the bow, her tight dress glittering under the lights and her hair whipping around her face in the wind. Young men surround her but she dances with no one, each sensual movement more of an exhibition. It’s as if she’s trying to prove something. I search the crowd to find Isabelle. She is standing away from the chaos, leaning against the other end of the bar in a gown that probably costs more than my car. Statuesque but cold, she watches everything. Her expression gives nothing away as if she’s used to seeing women fawn over her man.

As the night wears on, the crowd gets rowdy and the music louder. I need an excuse to get out of the noise and go and search for the bathroom. The yacht is like an expensive hotel. There are rooms everywhere. I notice Allison sitting like a statue, straight back and eyes front, beside the door to the galley, clearly on duty and not enjoying one second. I give her a wave and then ask one of the waiters to direct me and then when I’m done, I follow the noise of the music to return. I find Lucas sitting on the edge of the hot tub shirtless and soaking wet. He flirts with two girls in bikinis who laugh too hard at something he’s saying. I move closer and he lifts his head, looks at me and shrugs. I smile at him and turn to watch Mia dancing on a table. She tosses her head as she undulates, lost in the rhythm. Everyone is having a good time apart from Isabelle. She moves through the crowd like royalty, a vision in white silk as if untouched by the chaos. She is acting the part of the perfect wife, with an unreadable expression and a practiced smile. As she walks past me, I notice her eyes scanning the crowd and then resting on Linc. Her expression doesn’t change. She’s not jealous—she’s calculating.

THIRTY-FIVE

My head is aching with the thumping music and my bed is calling me but we’re anchored somewhere off the coast. The stars appear closer than the shore and it’s likely the party will go on all night and maybe into the next day. Everyone seems to be having a great time. There’s no place for me to hide as Linc’s entourage fills every corner. The roadies, the hangers-on and the men dressed in silk suits I don’t recognize and instinctively don’t trust. Everyone is drinking heavily except Lucas. I haven’t seen him touch a drink all night. The only thing he lifts to his mouth is bottled water. The temptation to indulge must be terrible. A group of men in the corner laugh too loud and watch the girls with eyes that don’t blink. I’m not prepared for this place. This isn’t just a party, it’s a ritual, where secrets are made and reputations destroyed. I’m just a ghostwriter. I observe and yet somehow, I’m already part of the story.

I take a drink from one of the waiter’s trays as he goes past. The glass is cold and a too-sweet fruity liquid spills across my tongue as I drink. The taste sends a strange little shiver through me. I sigh. I need to relax and blend in and stop feeling like an impostor. This is a golden opportunity to get information for Isabelle’s book. I search for her but she seems to be missing. Maybe she’s retired to one of the many rooms below deck. Oliver is no longer on deck either, but Mia is still surrounded by her own entourage of young men. She is glassy-eyed and throwing back shots as if they are water.

I’m so tired and the heat from the crowd presses in on me. The lights seem too bright, the music too loud, and the laughter seems to pierce my skull. I blink hard trying to clear my vision but the edges of everything shimmer as if the air itself is vibrating. Something’s wrong.

I close my eyes and a long moment later, Lucas is beside me. I look at him, through bleary eyes.

“You okay?” Lucas stares at me and frowns.