Chapter Twenty-Six
Present: Day Five at Sea
“Nice work,” Emma tells Beth and me from the helm.
The wind whips my hair back from my face as the two of us step off the foredeck between the wheel and the cockpit.
Below deck, Russell is hammering a temporary cover onto the broken window, using a meat-tenderizing mallet from the galley.
There was no hammer in the toolbox, making me wonder if the tool was what caused Gigi’s head injury.
Her gash wasn’t circular, but she could’ve been struck by the curved two-piece end, whatever that’s called, instead of the head.
Emma would know what it’s called, I think, studying her behind the wheel. A home renovator would be very comfortable using a tool like that. Before I can stop myself, I imagine Emma swinging the sharp end of a hammer at Gigi’s head.
I suppress a shudder and push the thought from my mind as the sun peeks through the clouds above the east horizon.
I shade my eyes with my hand as I assess the surrounding seas.
In full daylight, the waters appear to be slightly calmer than last night’s violent swells.
Hopefully, that means Nojan was right about the storm moving west and that we’re heading away from it.
My gaze travels to the mainsail, which still protrudes a few feet from the boom furler.
I turn to Emma. “Did Russell and Gigi unjam the mainsail?”
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think so. The winds are too strong to have it up right now, but we’ll need to get it fixed so we can sail back in lighter winds.”
Beth glances in the direction of Russell’s hammering before stepping closer to Emma.
“He’s lying about just wanting the truth.
He’s here for revenge.” She casts another cursory look behind her as the rhythmic pounding continues.
“He’s planning to kill all of us.” Her wary gaze meets mine before she turns to Emma.
“One by one. We need to subdue him somehow. If we work together, maybe we can lock him in his room.”
Emma frowns. “You read too many books. You don’t know that for sure.”
“But what about the captain?” I ask, wondering how Emma could so easily dismiss concerns over Courtney’s brother being on board—and two people being dead. “He didn’t cut his own tether.”
“All I’m saying is, what if he’s telling the truth?” Emma asks, verbalizing my earlier suspicions. “I think we should at least consider it.”
Beth recoils as if Emma had struck her. “Meaning what? That one of us killed Gigi and the captain?”
Emma turns her pensive gaze toward the horizon. “Maybe Gigi’s death was an accident.”
Beth looks sharply at Emma. “You’ve spent the most time alone with Russell. Up here on the decks while the rest of us were below.” She folds her arms. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to kill you.”
“Maybe he needed me to help sail the boat,” Emma says. “It’s possible Russell heard Gigi confess to pushing Courtney out of their raft. And then he killed her.”
Beth shrugs, keeping her eyes trained on the home renovator. “Or you’ve known who he is this whole time. Your new boyfriend you told Gigi about. And you’re in on this together.”
I stare at my best friend, surprised at her boldness. Although, if there was ever a time to be bold, I suppose it’s now.
“You’ve been violent ever since we were kids,” Beth continues. “Senior year, Courtney showed me a part in her diary that said you were the one who threw that rock through that volleyball referee’s living room window. The one that made that bad call our first game of the season.”
I turn to Emma, whose mouth flies open. Beth had told me this right after Courtney showed her, but Emma’s action didn’t surprise me. Instead, I was more worried about what Courtney might be telling the others about me.
“Yeah, I threw the rock, but it was Courtney’s idea! So what? That doesn’t make me a murderer.” Emma’s cheeks flush as she shoots Beth an icy glare.
Beth raises her dark eyebrows. “Oh, really? Maybe you’re the one who fought with Courtney outside our tents the night before she disappeared. I couldn’t hear everything. But it was nasty, I know that.”
My stomach churns despite the calming seas. I want to correct Beth, but even now I can’t bring myself to. I look to Emma for her response.
Emma flexes her jaw, narrowing her gaze at Beth.
“You’re the one who took the brunt of Courtney’s cruelty that day.
Passively enduring Courtney fat-shaming you with her snide remarks about your weight during our hike.
” Emma purses her lips, knowing she’s struck a nerve.
“Even though she pretended to be your friend, Courtney was always cutting you down. It sometimes seemed subtle, but it was cruel. It had to have affected you. Hell, it’s probably why you’ve spent the rest of your life burying yourself in books and academia.
” Emma rolls her eyes. “And your cat. Rather than living in the real world.”
“Like you’re any different,” Beth hisses, raising her voice. “Hiding behind your renovation career, obsessed with creating a new, false image of yourself. Putting a sweet, beaming photo of yourself on a billboard on the 405.”
I cringe at Beth’s mention of the billboard. After Emma’s volatile video went viral, someone had graffitied Bitch on the billboard in red letters. The last time I’d driven by, it was still there.
“Just like Gigi, you’re addicted to being in the limelight, trying to erase what it felt like having everyone look at you like you were a murderer.
And your anger problem is clearly worse than ever.
It’s why you needed this trip. To repair your shattered public image. Without that, you have nothing.”
Emma’s knuckles whiten around the wheel. She flexes her jaw.
“Look,” I say, trying to defuse the situation, afraid of what Emma might do if Beth keeps poking at her. It wouldn’t take much for Emma to throw Beth overboard. I jut out my arm in between them, only partly aware that the hammering below deck has stopped. “Why don’t we just calm—”
Beth steps toward Emma, pushing my arm to the side.
“You were consumed with jealousy when Courtney replaced you as volleyball captain after you broke your ankle from Bryson and Jake’s prank.
Especially after we won the championship and Courtney got a full-ride volleyball scholarship instead of you.
That’s why you had it out with Courtney that night outside our tents.
You hated her for it, and you still do.”
A wave of guilt washes over me, like a heavy weight on my shoulders.
Beth jabs a finger at Emma’s chest. “Maybe that’s why you—”
“I didn’t fight with Courtney that night,” Emma shouts. “Palmer did.”
“What?” Beth gapes at me.
“I woke up and heard Courtney say something about Palmer’s mom never getting hired again, then Gigi came out asking Courtney if she was okay and Palmer what the hell had happened.” Emma squared her jaw and locked eyes with mine. “You decked her, didn’t you? Over what she said about your mom.”
“Courtney and I spilled the dish soap, not Bryson and Jake,” I say, releasing the lie I’d been holding for two decades.
Emma and Beth stare at me in silence, finally at a loss for words.
“I was with Courtney when she put the dish soap on the floor. She tried to get me to do it, but I chickened out at the last minute,” I continue.
“Then we lied about seeing Bryson and Jake in the locker room.” I exhale, meeting Emma’s gaze.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told the truth a long time ago. I was going to—”
Emma’s palm impacts my cheek before I have time to react. My flesh stings when she lowers her hand.
Emma’s steely gaze sears into mine. “You bitch.”
She lunges at me, letting go of the wheel to grab me by my life vest with both hands.
“I always knew it had to be Courtney. It was the only thing that made sense. But I trusted you. You said it was Bryson and Jake! I even asked you on our rafting trip. And all these years, you pretended to be my friend. But you’re just as bad as her,” Emma seethes.
I’m worse, I think. Emma doesn’t even know what I did the next day.
Beth tries to intervene, moving between us. The boat tips, and she falls backward, smacking her head on the cockpit table on her way down.
“Beth!” I yell, shoving Emma back.
“Hey,” Russell shouts from the companionway. “What the hell’s going on? Stop.”
“It’s her fault.” Emma glares at me, shoving me backward before letting go of my life vest.
“Enough,” Russell calls as Beth gets to her feet, rubbing the back of her head.
He points to the navigation screens mounted above the wheel. “Look.”
Emma and I turn to the screens, which are lit up, displaying the depth gradients around us in shades of blue, and appear to be fully functioning.
“I got the power back on.”