Page 75 of My Sister is Going to Kill Me

“I still do not understand what happened,” Stefan said. “You”—he pointed to Charlie—“came upon her, and she was alive? And then, so quickly, dead?”

Charlie squeezed his whole body shut, fists clenched, eyes closed, arms pressed tight to his sides. Then he opened his eyes. “She was delirious. She didn’t recognize me.”

“Which is a sign of heatstroke, no?” Stefan asked.

“Her skin was too pale for heatstroke,” Fiona responded. “It’s not my area of expertise, but it looked”—Fiona flashed an apologetic face at Charlie and Devon—“violent.”

“Something made her suffer,” Liv said. “Something made her die. Something, or someone.”

“Snake bite, perhaps?” Stefan turned to Thor. “Your pink friend?”

“Grand Canyon rattlesnakes are docile,” Thor said. “They don’t bite unless seriously provoked. And the reaction Charlie described . . . that’s not how venom hits people.”

“Could it have been poison?” Stefan turned back to Charlie. “You said she was seizing when she died, yes?”

“Do we need to talk about this now?” Charlie set his eyes on Devon. “Please. Can we just . . .”

“My brother’s right. She’s gone. Let’s just . . .”

It was as if the Sauvage siblings had fallen in the river again, gasping for air in the surging waves. Liv could only imagine how she’d feel if it were Mandy they’d found up on that throne.

But she also wondered at Charlie and Devon’s desire to avoid detailed talk of Babette’s death. She cursed herself for not gathering up the smashed glass from Babette’s water bottle, the one Charlie had dropped to the ground. Was it possible he’d done that intentionally?

“It matters,” Liv blurted out. “It matters how she died.”

Devon looked at her. “Of course it matters. But at this moment, I really don’t think—”

“If someone intended to hurt your sister, they succeeded. And they could still be down here with us now.”

“With us?” Mandy asked. “Like, one of us?”

“Or two,” PK said, flashing dark eyes at Charlie and Devon.

“Or the guide,” Liv said. “Don’t forget about Marc.”

“Don’t forget your darling daddy,” Fiona said.

“Now I really want to go home,” Imogen moaned.

“Enough,” Guy said. He snapped his fingers at Big Pete. “Hey! Boatman! How much to get a helicopter out of here?”

Big Pete shook his head. “Private aircraft can’t land in this stretch of the canyon.”

“For the right price they can.”

At that, Big Pete exploded. “You people don’t get it, do you? Your money, your connections, they can’t help you down here. All we can do is follow the rules. Which means we cross the river. We make camp. We eat dinner. We go to sleep. We talk to the park police again tomorrow. We don’t split up or hail helicopters or play medical examiner or build a pop-up spa by the waterfall. We wait. That’s it.”

Clearly Liv wasn’t the only one who was tired.

“I don’t want to cross the river,” Charlie said. His voice was petulant.

“Not your call,” Big Pete said.

“I think it is,” Charlie said. “I’m the client. And I want to camp here.”

The two men glared at each other. Liv couldn’t decide why Charlie was taking this stand. Maybe he’d seen how Big Pete had capitulated to Guy’s suggestions, and Charlie wanted to assert some control over the situation, too. Or was it possible he planned to sneak back up to Babette’s body in the night? Was there someone else on this side of the river—perhaps Babette’s killer—with whom Charlie was trying to connect?

Liv looked around the rocky beach, considering their options. Wondering if she had any weight to throw around, and if so, where to pitch it.