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Luck was on my side. Samira and Tyson’s room was indeed empty.

Though the humidifier was no longer running, the faint scent of rosemary and sage lingered in the dimly lit room as if Tyson had just walked out, sending a chill up my spine. The gray silk blackout drapes over the windows were closed, the clothes Samira was wearing earlier folded neatly on a chair.

I quickly opened and closed the drawers of the bedside tables, but they were all bare, and her closet contained nothing more than a solitary dress and a few things folded on the shelves.

I unzipped her Louis Vuitton overnight bag and riffled through it, finding only a black satin negligée and a change of clothes.

A noise on the other side of the closed door drew my attention and I froze, my nerves standing on end as I quickly scanned the room for a place to hide.

The nearly empty closet was too risky, the bathroom too far.

I gasped as the doorknob turned, and seeing no other option, darted behind the nearest set of curtains.

I held my breath as the door swung silently inward.

Praying I was out of sight, I pressed myself against the window behind me, aware that anyone who walked past outside would see me clear as day. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest so loudly, I was afraid it would be audible to whoever was standing in the entrance to the room.

Through the gap where the panels of curtains met, I watched as Allison entered, looking as guilty as I must have.

She surveyed the room, her shoulders tense, then strode toward the bed and jerked open the drawers in the bedside tables just as I had, only less carefully.

She spun, moving in and out of my field of vision as she scanned the room, clearly looking for something—something specific, it seemed; something she knew should be here.

Her gaze went to Samira’s empty suitcase, then to the door to her closet, then to another suitcase on the opposite side of the room, which had to be Tyson’s.

It struck me as odd that the police hadn’t taken Tyson’s bag as evidence, until Allison turned it upside down and I saw that it, too, was empty.

I lost her for a moment when she entered Tyson’s closet, but she quickly reemerged empty-handed.

I held my breath as she strode toward Samira’s closet and yanked open the door, not two feet from where I was hidden.

The curtains billowed with the rush of air; my nose suddenly tickled. No. I couldn’t sneeze. My eyes watered as I moved my hand noiselessly to my nose and rubbed it violently, willing the tickle to subside. Allison hastened from the closet to the bathroom, and I stifled the smallest sneeze.

Should I risk exiting while she was in the bathroom? But she’d left the bathroom door ajar, and I could hear her rummaging around in there. I was likely better off right where I was. As long as I didn’t sneeze. I squeezed my eyes shut, wrinkling my nose.

My eyelids flew open as Allison burst out of the bathroom, desperately clenching and unclenching her fists as she studied the room. I could practically see the waves of anxiety radiating off her. She clearly hadn’t found whatever it was that she was looking for.

She lunged at the bed, feeling beneath the pillows to no avail before lifting the mattress and reaching her hand beneath.

I saw the relief hit her before she withdrew her hand, gripping a manila envelope.

She opened the top and peered inside, then, satisfied with whatever its contents were, lifted her shirt and tucked it into her pants.

With the envelope hidden, she righted the pillows and exited the room as quickly as she’d entered.

I deliberated for only a moment before I pushed aside the curtains and darted across the room, slipping out the door behind her.

The few seconds I’d waited to follow Allison had given her enough time to vacate the primary level, but I knew she’d likely use the outdoor staircase to avoid detection by the staff, so that was the direction I went as well.

When I reached the game deck, it appeared dinner was over, the guests dispersed.

Only Rémy sat at the bar, his face lit by his phone.

I crept down another set of stairs and along the dimly lit outer walkway on the main level, trying to appear casual but also sticking close to the wall so that it would be harder for anyone inside to spot me.

I was grateful for the cover of darkness as I edged closer to the long line of windows and peered inside, all the while scouring my brain for some explanation should Allison catch me following her.

It did not escape me that if she was the killer, she might well kill again to protect her secret, if she thought I was on to her.

The living area was softly lit and deserted but for Allison, who stood in the center of the seating area closest to me looking toward the door to her bedroom, which I could see was partly open with a vacuum cleaner parked outside.

Thwarted by the cleaning crew, she scanned the room, clearly assessing her options.

I watched as she strode to the built-in bookshelves that framed the giant flat-screen television, pulled down a thick coffee-table-size book with a cover that showed a picture of a green door, and shoved the envelope inside.

As she replaced the book on the shelf, I retraced my steps to the exterior stairwell, darting up the stairs two at a time, exhilarated. All I needed to do was wait for that lounge to be empty, then I could retrieve the envelope and find out what it was that Allison had stolen from Samira’s room.

Gratified by the results of my cursory search, I exited the stairwell on the game deck and went to the railing, pretending to simply be enjoying the view while I gave Allison a few minutes to clear out of the area before I returned to collect whatever she’d left inside the book.

I could feel my heart still thudding in my chest as I gazed across the dark water toward the twinkling lights of the island, plotting my next move.

The sound of swift footsteps behind me interrupted my reverie, and I turned.