Page 43 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“A successful theft is an anonymous act. The absence of a mark.”

—V. E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

I called the spa to see if I could get in before my date with Jason tonight. They were completely full, but the receptionist

said if I wanted a mani-pedi, I could come in at five, when they usually closed. I thanked her but declined—I didn’t want

to be late meeting Jason. Instead, I signed up for a yoga class that started in an hour, then went to the gift shop and bought

presents for my friends, Grams, and my cat-sitter. Trina promised to ship them the next morning.

I rounded the corner toward the yoga studio, figuring I’d go early to stretch and relax, and nearly ran into an upset Doug.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you okay?”

He blinked and sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

It was not even eleven in the morning.

I didn’t forget how kind Doug had been when I first arrived. I hated seeing anyone so sad, especially in such a beautiful

place.

Putting aside my yoga plans, I linked my arm in Doug’s and said, “Coffee?”

He glanced at me like a sad puppy. “Maybe a Bloody Mary?”

“Sure.”

We walked to the poolside bar. This early it wasn’t crowded, mostly young families with kids enjoying the pool. We walked across the bridge that led to the bar—at this bar you could sit out on a platform in the middle of the pool, or swim up and drink. We were the only ones at the bar.

The bartender—older, brown skin, close-cropped white hair and a neatly trimmed mustache—came over with a smile.

“Hi, Charlie,” Doug said. “Two Bloody Marys, please?”

“Coming up, Mr. Butcher.”

“Doug. I told you, Doug .”

Doug smiled and turned to me as Charlie made the drinks. “I absolutely do not want to come back here.”

“What happened?”

“What hasn’t happened? Five years we’ve been coming here, and now David gets his nose out of joint because we’re hanging around with our

friends too much . Literally that’s why we come, and he’s never had a problem with it before.”

“Have you talked to David about it? Does he have a specific reason it’s bothering him this time?”

“No, because David doesn’t like to discuss. He likes to direct. Inform. Explain. Assume.”

“What exactly did he say, Doug?”

“Nothing!”

I waited until Charlie put the Bloody Marys in front of us. I wasn’t a big tomato juice girl. I picked the celery out of the

large plastic cup and bit it, sampling the mix. Okay, not bad. I took a small sip.

Doug drained a third of his before putting his cup down.

I said, “I’m not married, and I haven’t been in a serious relationship in a while, but are you sure David didn’t say something?

Maybe he didn’t explain in detail, but he must have said something for you to think he’s not happy.”

“Literally, he said, ‘Why are we spending all our time with Jim and Josh?’ And we’re not.”

“Name three things you’ve done with just David.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He sounded snippy.

“Maybe he wants more alone time.”

“We’re social animals. We like people.”

“Maybe you’re more social than David?”

“It’s why he loves me,” Doug said defensively. “Because if it weren’t for me, David would be all work, no play.”

“Consider that maybe he’s more introverted, and introverts need their downtime. I’m speaking from experience here,” I added.

“Being around too many people, always having to be on , is exhausting.”

Doug frowned, bit into his thick bacon slice and chewed.

“You didn’t answer my question. Are you saying you and David have done nothing alone?”

“Of course not.” He pouted.

“Well?”

“We enjoyed our hot tub last night. Alone.”

“That’s one.”

Doug wrinkled his nose. “We went on a hike Wednesday afternoon. It was lovely. Then—” He stopped.

“Then what?”

“Well, Jim and Josh were heading to the gym, and we joined them.”

“Planned?”

“No, and I don’t even like going to the gym. I suggested it because David complains if he doesn’t work out every day.”

“That’s one and a half things,” I said.

“Why doesn’t he just talk to me?”

“You should talk to him,” I said. I thought of all the misunderstandings between people I knew—misunderstandings that would

be resolved if one person just stepped up and asked a question.

“I shouldn’t have to,” he muttered.

“No one said marriage is easy,” I said. I thought of Anja and Nelson and how supportive they were of each other during a really

difficult time. I thought of Henry and his wife creating a second life working here on the island after their kids grew up.

And how Braden and Amanda completed each other.

But I wasn’t married and had never been in that serious a relationship. Most of what I absorbed came through romance novels, and they were fiction, hardly manuals for a successful long-term relationship.

“Just saying,” I continued, “you could be right, and David could be right, or you could both be half-right. But if you don’t

work it out when the problem arises, then your frustrations will fester. Basically—you shouldn’t be here talking to me. You

should talk to your husband.”

I couldn’t believe I was giving relationship advice. Me, Mia Crawford, whose last relationship lasted a year only because

we saw each other twice a month, at most.

I gave good advice, though.

“You’re right,” Doug said.

“Go,” I said.

He drained his Bloody Mary and gave me a hug. “You’re good people, Mia.”

“You too.”

Alone, I sipped my drink and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the kids in the pool. I’d missed the yoga class because of my

impromptu meet with Doug, but I enjoyed people-watching here at the pool bar since it wasn’t crowded.

“Another?” Charlie asked, motioning to my empty Bloody Mary.

“I’m good for now,” I said, and ate the last of my celery.

I thought about Adam. Why hadn’t I cared when we split? Because I didn’t care about him ? I liked him... but I didn’t feel deeply for him. I never really put my heart on the line because I didn’t care what happened

between us.

I cared what happened with Jason. Even knowing it was short-term, I felt something deep inside I couldn’t explain.

I thanked Charlie and rose from my seat.

Then I spotted Amber Jones walking briskly down the beach from the north shore, near where Diana’s body had been found.

She looked a mess, far from the classy actress I’d met on the ferry three days ago.

In fact, she wore the same clothes she had on when Brie and I followed her last night.

She would’ve had to circumnavigate most of the island to come back from the north.

Had she been in the jungle all night? Where was Parker Briggs?

I meant to tell someone that Brie and I had seen them on the opposite side of the lake.

Then it completely slipped my mind after I fell into the pit.

I made a beeline toward Amber. She didn’t see me at first, almost walked right into me, then stopped as if just realizing

I was approaching her.

“Amber, what happened?” I asked.

She poked me in the chest. “You!”

“Me?”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Mia .” She said my name like it was a curse.

“What did I do?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Where is it?”

Was she talking about the book? I was certain she and Parker had taken Diana’s book from my room. Was I wrong about that?

“Where’s what?”

“You know what I’m talking about! Don’t play stupid.”

“I really don’t.” I felt hot and cold at the same time. If not them, then who took the book?

“You found the file, didn’t you? I swear, if you don’t give it back, I’ll—”

“File? What file?” I said, more angry than intimidated. And wholly confused. I didn’t even know what the documents Diana had

hidden were. Why on earth would Amber think I had them?

She growled, fists clenched, and stomped her feet in the sand, then winced. I noted then that she wore no shoes, and her feet

were cut up.

“Amber, I don’t have what you think I have,” I said.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

“You stole my book,” I said, deciding to lay it all out.

I paused a beat, waiting for her to deny it or explain; she did neither.

“We both know that Diana was blackmailing people on the island,” I said.

“But I didn’t find anything . Whatever Diana was up to, she didn’t leave very good clues.

So go ahead, keep it, I don’t care. But you might think about what was going on with her, because someone killed her.

And if you didn’t know already? Everyone who was on the island Sunday is still a registered guest . ”

Except CeeCee, I realized as if I’d been stung. CeeCee had disappeared yesterday. Just like Diana. Was she dead... or was

she fleeing? Fleeing Trevor... or running from the law because she was a killer?

Amber stared at me with a flash of concern. Then she said, “Just stay out of it. This really doesn’t concern you.” She hesitated,

then softened her voice. “And if you do find the file, I will make it worth your while to return it to me.”

“What’s so important about this file?”

“Let’s just say Diana took something that neither of us quite understood the value of. And I need to get it back as soon as

possible.”

To give to Parker , I thought but didn’t say. Diana took a file from Parker, and he needed it back before he met with his father on Monday,

I deduced. Diana and Amber had been in on it from the beginning, but didn’t realize the repercussions of their actions. Did

they intend to blackmail Parker? My guess was yes. Or... maybe they intended to blackmail someone else with the contents

of Parker’s file. But with Diana dead and the file missing, Amber was on the hot seat.

“Like I said, I don’t have any files. Good luck.”

Amber stomped off.

“What was that all about?” Brie came up behind me, making me jump.

I told her what Amber said and what I thought it meant. “I think she was out all night.”

“She looked it,” Brie said. “Come on, we don’t have much time.”

“For?”

“You want to know how to find Ethan Valentine? We have to do it now. There’s a staff meeting in five minutes. It’s our best

chance to get into Tristan’s office and find Valentine’s contact information.”

I hesitated, realizing this whole thing was quickly getting out of hand.

“What?” Brie said. “I thought this was the plan.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No buts. We’re doing this.” Then she turned and started walking as if she knew I would follow her.

Which I did.