Rose comes and lowers beside me, motioning down the wetsuit she’s sporting. “Sexy, huh?”
I smile. “He let you out on the water?”
“No. I was watching Daniel close to the bay with Danny.”
While I collected their guns. A silence falls between us, and I focus on the soft slap of the water around my feet.
“Okay?” Rose asks.
“No,” I answer honestly.
“He’s right, you know, Beau.” She leans into me, attempting to lighten her hard truths. “You can’t do as you please to that extent. It’s not fair.” I can feel her eyes on me, and like the coward I am, I don’t look at her, keeping my welling eyes on the calm, crystal waters. They’re a stark contrast to the murky chaos of my mind.
“When Amber held a gun at you,” I say, hating myself for having to ask but needing to ask, nonetheless. It’s playing on my mind. “Did you think she’d pull the trigger?” I look at my friend and see despair. Despair for me, for James, for everyone who’s involved. “Truthfully.”
“Yes.” Rose places her hands in the sand and fists. “If Esther hadn’t showed up, I think she could have in that moment, yes.”
I nod and go back to gazing at the ocean.
“You honestly think she did it?” she asks.
“I think Cartwright knew something that would incriminate Amber. He spent a lot of time writing about my father.” I give her an ironic look that’s way out of place. “Dad was probably paying him.”
“He was a bit of a megalomaniac, wasn’t he?”
I laugh. That’s out of place too. “A bit.”
“So do you think Amber killed Cartwright too?”
“I don’t know. You know her better than I do. Do you think she’s capable of that?” I know what I’m doing and I’m doing it unashamedly. No, I don’t know Amber, but I know what Rose has told me. And I know my dad, a sensible, shrewd businessman, left her every penny. Whether he did that as one last kick while I was down or because he loved Amber, I don’t know. But I saw his face when Amber was exposed as a gold digger. He was mortified. Hurt. And I also know how he treated me. So actually, I’ll never have an answer for why he did it. But I may get closure on his death.
Rose’s expression says it all. Amber is perfectly capable. And why would she run from me when I saw her loitering in the parking lot? “It’s dog eat dog in this world,” Rose says quietly, looking off at the horizon. A pang of guilt stabs me. She’s thinking about when she had to survive in this world. When she didn’t have Danny. I’ve no doubt Rose would have killed if she needed to. “So what are you going to do?”
Good question. It seems I can’t keep James happy and try to prove this. “I’m going to try and salvage what’s left of my relationship.” I push my way to my feet and offer my hands to Rose. “I know I can’t be a cop and be James’s. Your husband has reminded me of that.”
Rose takes my hands and lets me pull her up. “Very kind of him,” she says. “So which will you be? A cop or James’s?”
I link arms with her and walk us back to the cabin. “I need a beer,” I say, ignoring her question. I can’t promise to stand down, and I won’t. I have to get justice for at least one of my dead parents. I have to figure out how I do that without ruining James and me. “Where’s Fury?” I ask, scanning the place.
Rose sighs and then stops dead in her tracks on a slight hitch of breath. “Wait. Shit, you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
She faces me. “The Vikings. Their mom died.”
I step back, my sadness immediate. “No.”
She nods. “Danny let me take Daniel for pizza. Tank got the call while we were there. He called Fury, but they didn’t make it to her in time. Danny gave them some time off.”
I pull out my cell and dial Fury, needing to check if my bulletproof bodyguard is okay. He doesn’t answer. “You went for pizza?” I ask as we continue to the cabin.
“I know. We’re also looking at a school for Daniel.”
“What’s going on?”
“I hope the end is going on. You should go inside and see Lawrence before you leave.”
There are only a few occasions when Lawrence makes an appearance. When he’s hungover, when he’s exhausted, or when he’s worried.
I don’t make it inside. He appears at the top of the steps of the cabin in all his mismatched glory, his face disappointed. I don’t need it. Not now. “I need a beer.” I ask as I approach.
“And a scold.” His eyes behind giant spectacles follow me as I pass. “You fix this, Beau Hayley, do you hear me?”
I turn, inhale, and take a few breaths. “I hear you.”
“I’m going back to St. Lucia. I can’t stand the constant despair and worry being in this city brings.”
I nod, not surprised, not hurt. “Okay.” I fetch a beer from the fridge and flip off the cap as Leon comes at me, nearly knocking my teeth out when he hugs me.
“You’re a goddess.”
“Watch it,” I snap, pushing him away, the stench of marijuana invading my nose. “You stink.”
“I’m celebrating. Where’s J-Boss?”
Lawrence folds his arms over his chest and rests his weight on one hip, tilting his head. Jesus. I go to the changing rooms with my uncle hot on my heels. “It was reckless and selfish.”
“I know.” I pull my locker door open and something falls to the floor at my feet. I dip and pick up the card. Oh, yes. This is just what I need right now. “Do you remember Quinton?”
“Oh, the cute Cuban?”
“Yes.” I hand Lawrence the card. “He said hello. Mentioned that it would be nice to see you.”
“He did?” A blush crawls its way onto his cheek as he plucks the card from my fingers and reads it.
I smile and get changed.
Get ready to fix the mess I’ve made.
I ride back with Otto and Goldie, who are definitely giving me the silent treatment. So, basically, everyone is against me. I’m not being a victim. I’m accepting that I’m a headache. For everyone.
I walk into the lobby of Danny’s mansion—my home—and Goldie and Otto head to the kitchen, where I can hear people chatting. I don’t go there. I go straight to our room.
But it’s empty.
I dislike the sudden thrum of my pulse immensely. My shortness of breath. The panicked heat rising inside. “James?” I call, going to the bathroom. No life. The shower’s not been used recently. The sink has no water splashes in the bowl. I go to the terrace. No one.
The gym.
He’ll be balancing. Trying to calm down and find his center.
I race down the corridor and the stairs two at a time, and jog to the gym, pushing my way in.
Empty.
“Shit,” I curse, fighting back the rising panic, relaying every awful thing he yelled at me. I don’t understand you anymore. He told me one time that my hate walks hand in hand with my love for him. I swallow. Hate has lost a grip on love. I hardly understand myself anymore.
I back out and go to the kitchen. Everyone is in there, at the table, the island, helping Esther, talking. And it falls silent when they all spot me at the door. “Where is he?” My voice cracks over my question, the worst dread coming over me. That dread only multiplies when people start looking at each other in question, clearly waiting for the person who knows where James is to speak up. No one says a word.