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She continues, her hands curled into fists: “You think it’s fun to dig into salacious rumors. It’s exciting that some girl died here, isn’t it? You’re a fucking tourist. You come from your rich family to this pretty island and think it’ll be one big fucking party. And well, if people die, who the fuck cares? It’ll all get swept under the rug anyway. Well, don’t fucking bother. I knew Lucy and I liked her, and I’m not happy she’s dead. Go ask someone else about what happened if you’re still a curious little bitch.”
Lesley walks forward, bumps me with her shoulder, and hurries on toward the house.
I stand there alone on the path, stunned.
She knew my sister?
Shelikedmy sister?
And it’ll all get swept under the rug?
I don’t understand what she’s saying. It sounds like she was friends with my sister and doesn’t like the way her death was handled, but that can’t be right. I mean, Lucy would never be friends with someone like Lesley, right? And I was under the impression that there wasn’t any official ambiguity around Lucy’s death. From what I can tell, there was a full investigation, and everyone walked away from it agreeing on the basics.
Lucy was drunk. She fell off a cliff, or maybe she threw herself off a cliff, there’s some minor dispute there that doesn’t really matter. It was a horrible accident, but it was an accident, that’s all.
I thought I was the only one that didn’t believe the official narrative.
Knowing Lesley thinks it might be bullshit too is like a blow to my guts, and even worse that she won’t tell me anything, because she doesn’t know who I am.
It’s a little hard to process, but now her reaction makes more sense. She thinks I was being a nosy little asshole, and apparently, she liked my sister enough that she doesn’t want to talk about her death. How does Lesley connect to all this then? Does she know what really happened through Emilio, or was she there somehow?
Should I tell her who I am? Maybe that’ll make her trust me.
But no, I can’t do that. She’s too close to Emilio, and he’s my main target right now.
There’s more to my sister’s death, and even though Lesley didn’t give me any new leads, she all but confirmed what I think is true.
My sister was murdered.
And the only person there the night she died was Emilio Bruno.
The man Lesley’s closest with.
I look up at the trees and close my eyes, taking deep breaths. I wonder if Lucy ever stood on this path just like I am, trying to get herself together. But Lucy never crumbled, not like me. She was too strong for that.
How did she end up dead then?
It takes a minute to pull myself together.
Lesley might know something, but she’s not going to talk no matter how hard I push.
Which means I need to find a new suspect to interrogate if I’m going to get to this bottom of this.
Chapter7
Emilio
The boat drifts down the black cave, bobbing up and down. I stand at the wheel, keeping the motor down low, churning through the gentle but choppy black water. My lights sweep the cave walls, and if I’m not careful, if I move too fast or turn the wrong way, I could be slammed into the rock on either side.
There’s a reason nobody else uses these caves. There’s a reason this island has a reputation for hosting pirates and smugglers. Only desperate, reckless people would ever sail a damn boat into this nightmare, and I happen to be both of those things.
Ahead, the tunnel tightens into the most difficult part of the entire trip and it takes all my concentration to keep from hitting harder than a gentle scrape. The side of the boat’s mottled with scratches and gouges from this section, like a map of all my mistakes, like the scars on my back are a map of my pain, and my jaw clatters until the tunnel widens again twenty yards deeper into a vast, open space. The water remains deep, but there’s a shelf across the way, a natural dock that leads up into the higher tunnel. Below, down in the black water, the caves stretch deep into the earth, and I wonder if they used to be dry thousands of years ago, and what we’d find if we went down there.
Cave diving is the easiest way to die, and I very much like being alive.
“There he is!” Nathan and Dom are standing on the dock and wave their lights. I motor closer, toss over a rope, and the boys get to work. They tie me off and get the boat anchored and secured before I hop onto the slick rocks and let them start unloading.
“How was it?” Lesley stands off to the side, watching as the society members shuffle onto the boat, one after the other, grab boxes, and haul them off. I remember the early days when there were only a few of us. Lesley’s been with me since the start, and back then she’d carry just as much as I ever did, and sometimes even more.
