Page 76 of Her Dark Lies

“Karmen, I need you to trace a number for me.” He reads it off. “Yes, it belongs to this Ami Eister woman. She’s now posing as an editor forFlair.”

“Posing? Ami isn’t a real editor?” Harper is confused, but she’s not stupid. Everything is about to go south, she can feel it. “What the hell is going on?”

Ana smiles, and there is nothing friendly about it. “You’ve been taken for a ride, Harper. Ami Eister is an imposter. She’s not an editor withFlair. I assume she gave you all of this salacious information? Made this ridiculous claim for you to run with?”

“No...no. I found it on my own.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.” Ana is almost pleasant now. “Even you had to know we have no reason to lie about where Morgan died. Now, you’re going to have to give us everything. The photos. The video. And every detail on this situation, how you were contacted, how she tricked you. You’ve been used, Harper. And you’ve also insulted Mr. Compton and myself. Our family. We can’t allow this to continue, do you understand?”

“What are you going to do to me? I wasn’t kidding, I’ll scream. I won’t let you hurt me or make me disappear.” Harper starts toward the door, but Ana gets a hand on her, clamps her fingers around Harper’s wrist.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We will sit down like grown-ups and discuss what’s the best course of action here.” The smile is now motherly, and Harper recoils from it, trying and failing to yank her hand away.

“I don’t understand.”

Ana situates herself between Harper and the door, glances at her husband, then releases her wrist.

“Ami Eister is playing a cruel joke on us all, I’m afraid. She approached your sister a few weeks ago as well, posing as an art dealer who was there to buy a painting. She seems to have planted cameras in Claire’s home with the help of an associate. And she’s clearly gotten to you as well. How did she reach you?”

“Wait, she knows Claire?”

“Please, just answer me. How did she reach you?”

“Email, then by phone. This is bullshit. She’s legit. She sent me all her information.”

“I’m afraid she’s not. The real Ami Eister died six months ago. Whoever you’ve been dealing with is an imposter.”

Harper tries to wrap her head around this news. God, she’s been taken for a fool.

There’s a knock on the door, and Tyler, the hot younger brother, comes into the room, looking flustered.

“Mom, I’ve been looking for you. There’s been an accident. Henna’s dead.”

45

Sabotage

When the power went out on the island, they didn’t panic. Jack’s family knew the storm was coming; they’d brought everyone in early to be safe and laid in supplies. Plenty of gas for the generators to keep the overly stocked refrigerators and water running, mounds of candles and cute little matchboxes with C&J printed on them in embossed gold foil, flashlights with baggies of batteries in each room.

They were ready. Prepared. They’d done this a hundred times over the years.

What they didn’t count on was the sabotage.

What they didn’t count on was me.

46

The Dark Beyond

The stairs lead me directly down three stories to the kitchens, as I suspected. The kitchen itself is gleaming, and empty. They must have already moved everything toThe Hebridesfor the dinner tonight. Now I just have to find my way back up. The halls in both directions are pitch black, as if it’s the dead of night instead of afternoon. What the hell is the deal with these magic generators that are supposed to keep the Villa lit and safe?

Choices are limited; I have a 50 percent chance of getting it right. I look both ways like I’m about to cross a busy street. Left. Right. Left again.

Oh, hell. I don’t know. It’s dark down here, smells slightly spicy, garlic and basil and something darker, something off. Maybe the trash needs to be taken out. That makes sense—with the rain, the staff couldn’t clear out the waste.

Deep breaths. Through the mouth, not the nose. You went left before.

I wind into the darkness, glad for the powerful flashlight. Jack said the generators would kick in and the lights to the common areas would come back on automatically, but the private areas would stay in darkness to conserve energy. And he said the kitchens would be considered necessary. I stop again. Things are too quiet. The refrigerators aren’t running, which means the generators aren’t on. I have a spike of practical concern—if they haven’t moved everything to the yacht, what are we going to feed the wedding guests if the food spoils?