I’m not sure what to say, but I’m scared. “Do you think…?” I look around. “Do you think he knew we were at Rum Runner Island yesterday?”
Jamie shrugs, and Tech looks equally confused.
I’m overwhelmed. Between Felix being dead, my uncle covering it up, and then Matteo wanting to talk to me about something… I think we’re in pretty deep.
It seems impossible, but… would they try to blame us?
Jamie shifts, as if indicating he has more to talk about. I motion for him to continue, and wrap my arms around myself to hold it all together.
“I did some digging online,” Jamie starts again. “About the Starline, Rum Runner, everything. I found out that Jordan is related to Florence Marsten. Did you know that?”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“How did you…?” Tech asks, leaning closer.
“My dad owns an IT security company,” Jamie says. “Plus, I’m good at finding stuff on the internet. But yes, Jordan’s mother is CeceliaMarstenMiles, Florence’s sister. She owns half of the Grand Augustus Resort.”
“Okay…” I say, confused. “Obviously, we didn’t know they were related, but does it matter? Whether it was Jordan or Hailey or even Creed, we knew the socialite had been part of the Collective. Her family blamed the Chasers. If anything, it’s just another reason to hate Jordan.”
Jamie hums as if that’s not fair, but presses on with his story.
“That’s not all,” Jamie continues. “Florence’s family is one half of the Augustus Resort while the Mancini family is the other half. So I asked Jordan how the two families connected to build the resort in the first place. She let me know that Alessandro Mancini used to date her aunt.She didn’t say which one, but thinking about it”—he taps his temple—“one of the articles I found said Florence was engaged before her death. I think he might have been her fiancé.”
There’s a chill over my skin. A connection that seems out of time, and somehow… a bit sinister. “You’re saying Matteo’s dad was engaged to Florence Marsten?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I think so,” he says. “If we check that photo, I think he’s the blurry guy standing next to her.”
“Nice digging,” Tech says, sounding impressed. He reaches under the counter to grab out his backpack. “I was going to wait for Shawn, but…”
He upends his backpack and a pile of papers falls onto the counter.
“After we talked yesterday,” Tech says, picking through some of them, “I examined the papers we found in Florence’s room at the Starline. Some weren’t readable, but the others, they were pretty informative.”
“What was in them?” I ask, looking over the papers.
“A few personal letters and receipts,” Tech says. “But right away I learned that Florencewasengaged to be married”—he points at Jamie to let him know he was right—“but she told her friends he was a nobody. She called him Alex. Pretty sure that’s Alessandro Mancini. Anyway, in one letter, she said that her parents were going to help her break off the engagement since Alex couldn’t afford to secure her future.”
“How do you go from a nobody to one of the richest men in Cape Hope?” I ask.
“Great question,” Tech says. “But I have no idea.” He looks at Jamie. “You?”
“Not yet,” Jamie replies. “Florence’s family could afford their portion of the resort, but the Mancinis? No way.”
Although I’m heartbroken about Felix, it gives me another reason to find out what happened at the Starline. “I think Felix’s death and themystery of the hotel are connected,” I say, and both Jamie and Tech nod that they agree. “We have to solve this. We have to set things right.”
“For Felix,” Tech says quietly.
“And for Gabriel,” Jamie adds.
Tech reaches out to bump his fist into Jamie’s, and then the three of us settle into a quiet reflection, heavy with grief, but also determined. The pieces are coming together. It won’t erase the tragedies, but maybe it will bring some comfort.
Jamie’s phone rings. He takes it out to turn it off, but when he glances at the caller ID, I see him visibly pale.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. He swallows hard, slipping his phone back into his pocket without answering it.
“I actually have to go,” he says, motioning toward the resort. “I’ll text you later?” he asks, already stepping backward.
“Yeah,” I say, a bit worried. “But are you all right?”
