Chapter Thirty-Two
Under the Bright Lights
By noon Avalon was unnaturally bright, as if the sun had decided to interrogate the island. People clustered around the plaza—on the steps by the fountain, beneath the palms, outside Bluewater—faces drawn tight with expectation. Word had spread.
The mainland detectives weren’t getting the answers they wanted.
Vega and Hale moved through the square like they owned the ground. They weren’t impressed with Avalon’s charm. They’d come to excavate the truth even if bones needed to be dug up.
“We have a list of those who were at both the beach and the airport party,” Hale announced. “We’ll call your names one by one.”
“You’ll run out of daylight,” Tosh said with a smirk.
Vega didn’t blink. “We like a challenge. Since you’re chatty, you can go first.”
Tosh’s smile—weaponized in most social settings—barely scraped their armor.
Cass leaned toward Harmony at the edge of the crowd. “I hate this,” she whispered. “Everyone looks guilty.”
“We’re the island’s newest true-crime special,” Harmony murmured. “We just don’t have the script in hand yet.”
Mary arrived with Zach moments later, shoulders squared, jaw locked. Lily walked behind, pale but determined, the breeze tugging at her hair. Conversations dimmed when Mary stepped forward as if the grief pulled gravity with it.
Hale noted the hush, then lifted her voice. “Listen up. We’ll be conducting interviews in the council chamber. You’ll come when your name is called. Until then, don’t leave the square.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but the people couldn’t have been paid to leave. They wanted to see the grand finale of this show that none of them had signed up for.
Tosh took a seat inside. There was a view of him through the windows, though no one could hear what was being said. Hale and Vega sat across the table, both unreadable. No one was smiling.
“Tell us about the night of the bonfire,” Vega said.
“You’ve heard it. We were drinking. She—”
“Lisa,” Hale corrected, forcing him to say her name.
“Lisa went for a walk. The next thing I knew, people were screaming.”
“How much did you have to drink that night?” Hale asked.
“Enough to be honest—not enough to forget.”
“What about Candy?” Hale pressed.
Tosh’s mouth opened too fast. “Lisa was fine that night.” He blinked, jaw tightening. “Candy. Candy was fine.”
Hale slid a photo across the table—Candy’s body on display at the airport.
Tosh turned away, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I’ve never hurt a woman.”
“But you’ve touched a lot of women,” Hale said evenly. “Lisa, Candy . . . Heidi. Did your relationship with any of them turn sour?”
He glared at the detectives. “I was never with Heidi. Yes, I was with Lisa and Candy. And many others. I didn’t want any of them dead!”
“But they all had you in common,” Hale pushed.
“Not Heidi. I barely even talked to her,” Tosh pointed out.
“You say you didn’t have a relationship, but you have no proof,” Vega murmured.
“All of my friends can confirm it.”
“Everyone on this island seems to have a story,” Hale noted.
Tosh gave a humorless laugh. “That’s because everyone takes turns with everyone else on this island.”
“You have a pretty low opinion of your friends,” Hale said.
“No, I’m simply realistic. A lie’s still a lie, even if you dress it up.”
Vega leaned in slightly. “We’ll figure this out. Sometimes confessing your sins saves you time.”
“I confess daily,” Tosh said. His expression didn’t waver.
Thirty minutes later, and his story didn’t change. They finally let him go.
They called in Cass next.
She walked in nervously, twisting her hair, sweat shining above her collarbone. She hated everything about the room.
“Did you see Lisa leave the bonfire alone?” Vega asked.
“I . . . um . . . I think so. I mean, she was dancing, and we were all watching. She was so smooth. Then she was just . . . gone.” Cass swallowed. “There was so much going on that it’s hard to remember.”
“In an early report, you told officers you saw a shadow near the water,” Hale said, voice clipped.
Cass blinked several times. “That was weeks ago. Maybe I saw something. Maybe I didn’t. I don’t remember.”
“Are you hiding anything?” Hale asked.
Cass shook her head, tears forming. “I didn’t do anything. I just can’t remember everything.” Cass wiped her palms on her jeans, the fabric already damp from nerves.
Hale and Vega exchanged a look. They didn’t think she was their killer—but innocence was a great costume for a cold-blooded killer.
“All of this started happening right after you and your cousin arrived on the island,” Vega pointed out.
Cass swallowed. “Should I have a lawyer for this?”
“I certainly would,” Hale said.
Cass’s face went blank, like she’d been slapped.
“Then . . . I think I’ll get one.” She fled the room.
The two detectives put their heads together for everyone outside the window to see. Cass’s name hadn’t really come up on their suspect list, but maybe they’d been foolish to leave her out.
Zach entered next. His shoulders filled the doorway. His expression was unreadable. He didn’t sit until Hale gestured. Then he took his time.
“You’ve been at the scene of all three bodies,” Hale said.
“Yep, unfortunately.”
“You also ran away when Lisa’s body was found,” Vega noted.
“I ran to get help. No cell service at Descanso.” He kept his answers short. Unfortunately, he was getting good at playing the game.
“Reports show that it took over an hour for you to return. What were you doing during that time?” Hale asked.
“The station’s across town. It took a while.”
“It doesn’t take an hour to get there and back. We walked it,” Vega said.
Zach’s jaw tightened. “I needed to clear my head. Finding a freshly murdered friend isn’t something you shrug off.”
The detectives studied him, no empathy in their eyes.
“You often have a lot of scratches on you.”
“I work with tools, and they tend to bite.”
“Tools can also cut throats,” Hale said.
A muscle ticked in Zach’s jaw. “So can secrets.”
Hale tilted her head. “Are you building anything right now, Zach?”
He stared right back. “I’m making a list in my head.”
“Of what?” Vega asked.
“Of who to trust.”
“Is it a long list?” Hale asked.
“It gets shorter by the day.”
Mary was the last to enter for the first round of interviews. The room seemed to sharpen around her. She didn’t sit like a suspect. She sat like someone with opinions.
“You’ve experienced a lot of loss,” Hale said, trying to show sympathy. She failed.
Mary smiled thinly. “Many people experience loss.”
“We’ve been told you and Candy were close,” Vega said.
Mary’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you practice that tone in your bathroom? Make sure you sound empathetic?”
Hale’s eyes didn’t change. “Grief doesn’t make you special, Mary. It makes you louder.” She leaned back, momentarily speechless at being called out.
Vega continued. “We’re trying to help all of you on this island, so I’d appreciate some cooperation.”
“You’re trying to close a case and be heroes. If that means taking in a fall-guy, you’ll gladly do it.”
“Were you with anyone the night Candy disappeared?”
“I was with everyone and no one, just how I am every day of my life.”
“It’s been reported that you often talk about justice,” Vega said.
“People say a lot when they’re afraid.”
Hale slid a photo across the table.
You Made Me.
The caption’s jagged edges looked cut from a magazine, the same as Harmony’s notes.
“Is this yours?” Hale asked.
Mary didn’t flinch. “It was written to me. That doesn’t make it mine.”
“What does it mean?” Vega asked.
Mary leaned back. “It means the killer is watching. They seem to like what they see.”
A chill moved through the room. No one spoke again.
By late afternoon, the plaza felt like a pressure cooker. Interviews became rumor, rumors became spectacle. When Hale and Vega emerged from the council chambers, the crowd surged, desperate for answers they weren’t getting.
A deputy lifted his hands. “Back up!”
“Where were you the night Candy died, Torie?” someone shouted.
“Where were you, Leo?” she fired back. “Playing pool with excuses.”
Tosh stepped up. “Everyone needs to chill.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to chill,” Torie shot back. “You lied about Candy. You always lie.”
“Not about this.”
“Liar,” she spat. “You were with her on the same days you were with me.”
“You spent time with her, too,” Cass said.
Torie spun. “I tried being her friend. It didn’t work.”
Harmony stepped forward. “Candy was scared. She told me she felt watched.”
Mary’s gaze cut to Harmony. “She was probably scared of you.”
Harmony didn’t blink. “She said she was scared of someone who enjoys the view.”
Hale stepped closer. “We’ve heard a lot about your notes.”
“I take notes. That’s not a crime,” Harmony said, losing some of her composure.
“Yeah, you’re innocent. All you do is observe,” Mary said, emphasizing the last word.
Hale watched her, unreadable. “Observers sometimes nudge the scene. They push people into roles they don’t realize they’re playing.”
Harmony’s laugh was brittle. “Sometimes scenes beg to be nudged.”
“Did you nudge Candy, Lisa, and Heidi?” Hale asked.
Hale watched her like someone who knew a performance when she saw one, and was simply waiting for the mask to slip.
Harmony’s gaze was steady. “I don’t kill my characters, Detective. I let them reveal themselves.”
A commotion broke out on the far side of the plaza.
“Janie’s gone,” a woman from boutique row cried. “She’s been gone for three days, which isn’t like her. I just found her purse with her phone in it.”
The crowd shifted and quieted. Was there another murder?
“Lock this island down,” Hale demanded. “Nobody leaves. I want eyes on the harbor, the heliport, and the back roads right now!”
Deputy Ciscel was already moving before she finished the sentence, jaw tight, eyes scanning the hills like he expected the island itself to answer.
“If anyone has seen Janie in the past forty-eight hours, I want them to speak up now.” Vega looked around. No one spoke.