The Island

Liam and I walk back toward the Black Tulip. Neither of us crouches and hides this time. We’re either brave or stupid. We do at least have the good sense to stick near buildings and trees.

I’m tired in every way possible.

Liam’s eyes cover the whole park, his fists clenched, knees bent ready to spring. He’s on high alert.

Part of me just wants this asshole to jump out and confront us. We could get it over with. Two against one. Liam is strong, and I’m so pissed off, I could take on a WWE wrestler and win.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, sensing something is off.

“Where is this leading? What does Robert and whoever else want?”

“Well, we think it’s about Malcolm, right?” he replies. “But why now and not when the park is open? More people to slaughter then. Why only us?”

“It’s harder to control an island of hundreds of people. Eleven is much easier. He has more places to hide. One thing’s for sure: he knows the island like the back of his hand. Reeve and Gibson have been here long enough to know where to go, but to know the inside of every building and every ride?” I shake my head. “I’m not so sure. Gibson was outside most of the time.”

“They could have explored on their off hours.”

“We need to regroup and talk this out,” I say. “There are questions everyone needs to answer.”

“Does that include you?” he asks.

“If you have any for me, Liam, shoot. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Nothing?”

“No. Why?”

He shrugs. “We all have secrets.”

“I’m not looking at finding out anyone’s hidden crush.” Though I wouldn’t mind knowing his.

“Right. Deeper questions, like: are you homicidal?” he says.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Precisely.”

“No one will answer yes to that.”

“Not with their words.”

His eyes slide to mine. “You’re a human lie detector?”

I wish. “No, but I’ve listened to a lot of podcasts and watched a lot of true-crime stuff. I love the ones where experts pick apart a criminal’s police interviews.”

“You’re the best we’ve got,” he replies. “Do you feel confident enough to pick out the killer here?”

That would be a big no. I’m confident enough that I could tell who to trust after an honest conversation. That doesn’t mean they’re not guilty, though.

The hotel is ahead, and I can see Harper through the lobby window.

“They’re there!” I say, breaking into a sprint. The doors slide open as I reach them; a second faster and I would’ve run straight into them.

“Harper!”

The three of them turn around and Harper runs to me.

“You’re okay!”

We slam together in the middle of the lobby, and I hug her like she hugged me when we got back from the haunted house.

“Wait, you’re hurt,” she says, noticing the gash on my head.

“It’s nothing.” I manage a half smile. “Forgot it was there.”

That’s not a lie. Maybe it’s the adrenaline, but if I hadn’t felt blood trickling, I wouldn’t even know I was hurt.

“Damn, girl, you’ve got more lives than a cat,” Gibson jokes. He pats me rather awkwardly on the back. “How did you get out?”

I let Harper go. “I went back, figured the killer would be chasing you on the other jetty.”

They’re all soaked through like I am.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Harper says.

“Let’s all go change and then meet back here,” Gibson says.

“The killer has a master key,” I say. “We should go to each room together for safety.”

There is absolutely no way I’m giving him, or anyone else, the opportunity to go off alone. If Gibson is in on this, he’s not going to get the chance to murder anyone else.

“Yes, I like Paisley’s idea,” Ava says, her eyes wide.

Liam smiles at me, understanding exactly why I want us to stay together. “Come on, let’s go up and let the girls change first.”

Gibson looks like he’s about to argue but Liam walks past him toward the elevator, not leaving it up for negotiation. So he follows us with a shrug, his clothes dripping water.

I cannot wait to get out of these jeans.

“Should we take the elevator?” Harper asks as the doors slide open.

“I don’t think anyone is here. Robert is probably lying low and planning his next move. We should stay in the club room on the third floor. The windows in there cover most of the park. We might even be able to find Reeve and let him know where we are.”

“We can also do that from the security room,” Ava says.

“We’ve done that before. What if the power goes again? It’s time to change it up. Gibson, do you think if we shone a light from the window someone on the mainland would see?” I ask.

He looks back as he steps out of the elevator. “Maybe. It’s worth a shot. Have we given up on the jammer? That’s still our best bet.”

“If you think I’m going back out there, you’re freaking crazy!” Ava snaps. She unlocks her door, and we go in. Her cases are lined up along the wall. It’s like a clothing store has exploded in her room.

She grabs a few things and goes into the bathroom.

Gibson steps in front of me. “I haven’t seen Reeve.”

“He’ll be okay.”

Shaking his head, he replies, “After everything he’s been through…”

“What’s he been through?” Liam asks, raising an eyebrow. Everything about his tone tells me he thinks Reeve is guilty.

Gibson raises Liam’s scowl with a glare. “A lot. He had a hard time, but he’s doing really well now, getting his life together. After everything he’s overcome, to die here now, in a place that’s helping him get on his feet…He doesn’t deserve that.”

Liam arches a brow. “None of us deserves this.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“We’re so not arguing over this,” Harper says. “I just want to get changed and go to the club room. I’m hungry, thirsty, and pissed off. Screw the jammer, I say we go after the source.”

“Okay, I love this Harper,” I say.

She flashes me a smile. “I’ve had enough. I’m so over this, and I get that that sounds way cold, but that’s how it is. We either run around scared looking for a magic box that will give us back our service or take this guy down.”

“Yeah, right, but only one problem with that,” Liam says.

Harper puts her hands on her hips, daring Liam to find a hole in her plan. “Go on.”

“He killed his mom. He has nothing to lose, there’s nothing he won’t do, and he has a sword. How the hell do we compete with that?” Liam looks at Gibson. “We go after everyone who’s missing. He’s going to want us to find Reeve.”

“So that’s exactly what we’re not going to do,” I say.

“No way!” Gibson snaps. “We’re not leaving my boy out there. He’d go back for you, Paisley, you know he would.”

I hold my palms up trying to get him to calm down. “The killer wants us outside running around, splitting up. We’ve done that and it almost got us killed. Some of us are dead.”

“Are you forgetting that James actually was killed when we were together?” Liam asks.

Since when did he switch to Team Gibson? Two minutes ago, he thought that Gibson might be in on it.

I can’t keep up.

Ava reappears from the bathroom. She’s changed into jeans and a light knitted sweater. Her hair is up in a bun and her makeup has been reapplied.

Her makeup has been reapplied!

I breathe deeply.

“Are you for real?” Harper asks. “We’re out here dripping onto the carpet, shivering, and in danger of losing our toes, and you’re freaking contouring!”

I grab Harper’s hand and tug her toward the door. “We’ll go to your room next,” I tell her.

“I’ll be quick.” She shoots Ava a dark look, but Ava doesn’t even flinch. It was Harper’s mistake to assume that Ava has any shame.

Harper is true to her word and changes quickly.

I can hear voices through the wall as I tie my hair up in my bathroom. It’s still damp and will only make my top wet if I leave it. There’s a small cut on my forehead, but nothing as bad as Reeve had.

My body is covered in bruises. I’m going to be an interesting shade of green and purple for a few days, but I’ll live. I’ve bashed my head twice today and almost drowned.

To be standing here with only cuts and bruises is pretty good going. Maybe I do have nine lives.

It’s not something I want to test.

I’ve changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a baggy T-shirt that says I would rather be watching a true crime doc. It’s comfortable and won’t be so heavy if I find myself in the water again.

My wet clothes are discarded in the bathtub. I’m never wearing those jeans again. Or any others. They’ve been off for five minutes now, but I can still feel the wet material chafing against my skin.

I grab a hoodie that was draped over the counter and tie it around my waist.

Who knows if I’ll need it, but it gets cold here at night and we might be outside. Hopefully on a boat sailing away from the island.

The digital clock glowing in the bathroom mirror, below the TV, reads 3:02 p.m. My stomach growls. I wish we’d had lunch.

I leave my room with my cell charger, and we get back in the elevator. Gibson’s room is off the lobby with the rest of the staff’s.

“Maybe we should’ve packed more supplies,” Harper says, clinging to her charger, a can of soda, and fluffy fleece pullover.

“Like what, a gun?” Ava asks. She also has her charger and a beige borg jacket.

“We can grab something in the kitchen after I’ve changed,” Gibson says.

What I wouldn’t give for all of us to be sitting down to Kenna’s cooking and a normal weekend.

“I was kind of hoping someone would notice that none of us are online. Do you think that might happen?” I ask.

Liam shrugs. “I doubt my mom would. I posted yesterday. She’ll assume I’m fine because I’ve been online. I’m just a shitty son and not messaging her directly.”

Ava snorts. The sound isn’t something I would ever expect her to make. “My parents wouldn’t notice anything unless I’d been missing for a month. And that would only be because the credit card bill would be tiny.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She turns her nose up. “Why? At least I don’t have to answer to anyone.”

I can tell she doesn’t mean that, not really. It must be hard not having your own parents care enough to check in with you. Never again will I complain that mine are all up in my business. Or at least I won’t for a good few weeks.

“Mine are the same as Liam’s,” Harper says. “They’ll see my online presence as proof of life.”

“Yeah, that will only work with mine for a little while,” I tell them. “If they don’t hear from me by tonight, my mom will be the one escorting the police here.”

“Well, that’s good. We thought we’d have to make it to tomorrow, but we might be saved tonight. We just need to hunker down in the club room until then. There’s enough furniture in there to block a door,” Liam says.

For the first time since we realized Will went missing, Liam looks relaxed. And I realize that I may have given him false hope. I would fully expect my mom to raise the alarm, but it’s no guarantee. Liam is taking it as if it’s a given.

“We need to make sure we can survive through Monday, just in case,” I reply. “We have to be able to protect ourselves. Once Gibson changes, we should grab some food and drinks and take them up.”

“If we’re going with this plan and not taking him out, can we get some beer?” Harper says.

“No!” Gibson snaps. “The last thing we need is four tipsy teenagers giggling their heads off while some lunatic is trying to slice our throats!”

“That’s what happened to Kenna,” I remind him uneasily. “Why was that only Kenna?”

Gibson unlocks the corridor leading to the staff rooms. “Who knows, Paisley. Why does it even matter?”

He sounds thoroughly over me and all my “crime stuff.”

“If you can figure out—”

“Enough, Paisley,” he says between his teeth.

Liam holds his hand up. “Hey, she’s only trying to help, man.”

“It’s not helping, though, is it? We know nothing.”

“We know it’s Robert. We know Camilla’s death was the most brutal because he knew her. We know he’s getting more efficient with his killing. Will had multiple stab wounds, James fewer, and Kenna only one across her neck. He’s getting a feel for this. Whatever his reason for killing, he’s starting to enjoy it,” I say.

Gibson swallows audibly. “But that hasn’t helped us stop him.”

“No. I have a feeling only Malcolm could do that.”

“Because this guy hates him? Why? He gave Camilla a job and a pretty well paid one.”

Liam shakes his head. “Nah, did you see the knockoff bag she had? She wasn’t paid much.”

“How would you know that?”

“It’s my mom’s way of keeping up appearances too. We live in an area that’s too expensive for us. She will never give up the zip code, so she pretends with the rest.”

“You’re not poor,” Ava says as Gibson lets us into his room.

He grabs clothes and heads into the bathroom.

Liam rolls his eyes. “I never said I was poor. I said she lives above our means.”

“Okay, so this is somehow connected to Camilla and Malcolm. Gibson,” I call, knocking once on the door. “Do you know how long Camilla has worked for Malcolm?”

“She was on board before he bought the island, but beyond that, I don’t know.”

I pace the tiny staff room. “All right. So we have a killer who wants to destroy Malcolm’s reputation, destroy him financially, and probably put a knife in his neck. Robert murdered his mom because, presumably, she was getting in the way. She had to have suspected but never tried to stop him before all this blew up. Why?”

They look at me and I stop pacing.

“I think Malcolm knows Robert or knows of him,” I say. “We find him, we might just get some answers.”