Page 52

With the aid of the camera feed, I made my way carefully to the sun deck, where I found Samira, Gisèle, and Laurent in the zone fumeur, silhouetted against the lights of the island, the ends of their cigarettes glowing in the dark.

Samira exhaled a long line of smoke, eyeing me in a not entirely friendly fashion as I approached, but she didn’t speak; neither did Gisèle, taking her cue from Samira, as usual.

But Laurent held my gaze this time, offering me a cigarette.

I was so grateful he didn’t totally hate me that I accepted it, inhaling shallowly while he lit it.

“Anyone know why Jennifer might have been snooping in my room just now?” I asked, taking a seat on the bench next to Laurent.

Gisèle cut her eyes toward me as she blew a line of smoke over her shoulder. “Did you catch her?”

“I saw her,” I said. This wasn’t the time to explain what I did for a living and why Tyson had hired me. “But she didn’t see me. I don’t know what she was after.”

“Probably some proof you killed Tyson,” Samira said.

“Which I didn’t.” The words came out more defensively than I’d intended.

“Why would Jennifer be so interested?” Laurent mused.

I could read the rest of the question in his eyes, and I supposed it was possible she could be the blackmailer, but I couldn’t see why.

Gisèle and Samira looked back and forth between us, registering that there was more to the story than we were giving them. “What are you not telling us?” Gisèle asked.

I leveled my gaze at her. “I found five hundred thousand euros in your suitcase.”

Smoke caught in her throat, her poker face wavering. So Laurent hadn’t told them about my discovery. Would I be reading too much into it to hope that it meant his loyalty still lay with me?

“It was Tyson’s money,” I went on. “When he died, the two of you decided to hide it in Gisèle’s suitcase, knowing that if you didn’t, the police would search the primary suite and take it as evidence.”

When neither of them protested, I focused on Samira.

“If you’d known you were getting anything in the will, you wouldn’t have needed that money and wouldn’t have taken the risk of stealing it.

So, you didn’t know, which means you didn’t kill him.

You’ve already put up with him for fourteen months.

You only needed to do twenty-two more to get a hundred million dollars. ”

Samira and Gisèle exchanged an anxious glance, thrown. “I told you I didn’t kill him,” Samira said, vindicated.

“You’re smart,” I said more gently. “Too smart to give up a hundred million dollars. Besides, it wasn’t all bad between you, was it? Sure, he was a dick, but you didn’t mind that in bed.”

“You are not wrong.” She shrugged, relaxing slightly. “I hated him, but I also loved him.”

“And you,” I said, switching my gaze to Gisèle, “love her. You really care about her happiness. As much as you probably wanted Tyson to bite the dust, you wouldn’t have gotten in the way of Samira’s happiness, which included Tyson and his money.”

Gisèle and Samira looked at each other and back to me, unsure how to respond.

“Everyone knows you’re more than friends,” I said. “Except maybe Tyson.”

It was endearing how shocked the two of them appeared. “How long have you known?” Samira asked Laurent.

“A long time,” Laurent said. Then, off Gisèle and Samira’s bewildered look, “I have discretion but I’m not deaf or blind. You say—and do—things right in front of me all the time.”

Samira’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, Laurent.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m used to it. It’s part of the job. And no, I won’t say anything to the police. Though I’m not sure the others won’t.”

“You’re probably best getting ahead of it and telling the police the three of you had a special relationship.

” I let that land before I moved on. “Regardless, the police have as much reason to believe you killed him as they do me, especially considering what happened to your last husband. So you have as much reason to find out who really killed him as I do. Maybe we can help each other?”

“What do we get out of it?” Samira asked.

“I’m assuming you don’t want me to tell the police about the money you hid?”

She sighed. “What kind of help do you need?”

“I took a look around your room earlier as well,” I said. She drew back, displeased, as I continued, “Right before I was pushed off the boat. And I wasn’t the only one. Allison came in while I was there and swiped something that was hidden beneath the mattress.”

She frowned. “What?”

I pulled out my phone and displayed the shots I’d just taken of the medical records. “It’s a blood test,” I said. “I can’t read it, but I’m guessing whatever it says wouldn’t be good for Allison if it got out, and Tyson was using it against her. Any idea why?”

Samira shook her head.

“Did you know he was suspicious that someone in his inner circle was responsible for leaking the environmental report to the city council?” I asked.

She nodded, and I stifled a yawn that pulled at the glue holding my scalp together, wincing at the pain. The day was catching up with me, but I needed to push through. “Did he say anything to you about bringing in an investor?” I pressed.

“Yeah, the man Allison wanted. Rick Halpern?”

I nodded, recognizing the name of Rémy’s partner.

“Allison wanted to sell some shares to him,” she went on, “but Tyson was giving him new shares—I do not know the word.”

“He was diluting shares. Which would have pissed Allison off,” I said.

“He wanted to punish her,” Samira said. “I don’t know why.”

The image of Ian’s body splayed at the foot of Tyson’s parents’ staircase flashed before me. “Tyson did like to punish people,” I muttered.

But someone had finally turned the tables on him.