There was a pause. A thoughtful hum sounded from his end. "Maybe she wasn’t fully dead? Maybe falling in the water made her wake up and breathe in the water?”
“He said he felt for a pulse but found none. He even tried to perform CPR, which tells me he knows how to look for a pulse.”
“Mistakes happen in confessions, but you think there's more to it?"
"More than a mistake. I need your insight."
"Alright, let me pull up the file. Give me a sec," he replied, the sound of clicking keys leaking through as he pulled out his laptop.
"Time isn't a luxury we have," I pressed, glancing at the sky outside. “There’s been another murder. Same island, same family.”
"Really? Now that is suspicious, indeed. Here we are," Simmons said after a moment. "I see what you mean. Discrepancies could point to…."
"Coercion?" I offered.
"Or a cover-up. You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Someone else is behind this," I affirmed, feeling the sharp edges of a larger conspiracy taking shape. “And that someone just killed again.”
"Be careful, Eva. This is big, isn't it?"
"Very big," I admitted. "It involves my daughter now."
"Say no more. I'm in. What do you need?"
"Everything you've got on Marcus Cole and any connections to the island," I demanded, my tone brooking no argument. “Any inconsistencies in the old case.”
"Consider it done," he assured me, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his seasoned mind. Simmons was a genius in my book. "You'll have it by morning."
"Thanks, Simmons. I knew I could count on you." My grip on the phone eased slightly.
"Always, Eva. Watch your back out there."
"Will do," I promised before ending the call, determination steeling my resolve.
I stood up, feeling the bungalow walls closing in on me. I had to find and talk to Olivia. Make sure she was okay. As okay as possible. I was worried about her. She left the main house to go for a walk, she said, when I hurried back to my laptop. She hadn’t come back yet.
The humid air hit my cheeks as I stepped outside, the tropical paradise suddenly feeling more like a well-manicured prison.
Flip-flops clicking against stone, I marched along the pathway, each step punctuated by the whispers of palm fronds. I used Find My Phone to track her. It usually did the trick. Conspiracy theories chased each other around my mind, demanding attention. They swirled like the breeze, impossible to grasp but undeniably present.
The resort's beauty mocked me; its serenity was a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Worried about my daughter, I picked up the pace, my resolve hardening with every stride. The truth was hidden somewhere among these opulent trappings, and I would tear down paradise itself to find it.
Chapter12
THEN:
The golden light of twilight melted into purples and blues as Isla's feet traced a familiar path across the white sands, away from the comfort of Javier’s embrace and toward the complexities that awaited her at home. Her heart was so confused. She knew she loved Javier but also knew she had obligations to live up to. Each step was measured, taken with the resolve of someone who knew the road ahead would require every ounce of strength she possessed.
Her thoughts danced between the warmth of Javier's laughter, echoing like a melody in her mind, and the image of Marcus—kind, unsuspecting Marcus—who played his part in a play he didn't fully understand. Even now, as she approached the back porch of the main house, Isla rehearsed the lines of affection she must deliver, a performance devoid of the fire that burned within her whenever she thought of Javier.
"Hey, Isla," came the gentle voice that always seemed laced with hidden sorrow, which Isla knew all too well.
She lifted her gaze to find Marcus leaning casually against the white picket fence, his sandy-blond hair catching the last light of day. His smile was genuine and reached his eyes—a clear blue that held an ocean of kindness. He had dressed simply, in a soft cotton shirt that complimented the ease of his demeanor, yet behind the casual façade, Isla could sense his eagerness to please, to be the perfect accompaniment to the life her mother had envisioned for her. He had arrived at the island a few hours earlier and would stay with them for a couple of weeks. Her mother had invited him. Meanwhile, Javier’s mom worked at the resort, and he had gone back to help her out, cleaning the bungalows, as she usually did on Saturdays. Isla didn’t understand how it was okay for her to play with Javier when they were children but not okay for her to date him, according to her mother, who had forbidden Isla from seeing him after she caught them kissing in the pantry a year ago. They had known each other all their lives, and it was never a problem for her mother that they hung out together… ever. Not until now. What had changed? Victoria told her then that she wanted her to be with Marcus, and even though he was a nice guy, he was no Javier.
"Marcus," Isla replied, allowing her smile to grace her lips, though it paled in comparison to the one reserved for Javier. "Sorry I'm a bit late. I went for a walk on the beach."
"No problem," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, his tone light but layered with an emotion deeper than the tranquility he portrayed. "The sunset was worth waiting for, wasn't it?"
