Chapter 19
The next morning
The sound pulled me out of sleep, and my hand was already under the pillow before I was fully conscious. Vehicles. Doors. Voices outside the villa at an hour that made the hair on my neck stand up. Something was up.
I was up and moving. Gun from under the pillow, safety off, shorts pulled on in the same motion. My mind was already running through it — we were in Turks, small island, limited exit points, my father next door, Coco in the bed behind me.
“Lesley—”
“Stay in the room.” My voice came out low. “Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anybody but me.”
She was already sitting up, reading the energy, and she didn’t argue. The lock clicked behind me as I moved through the villa toward the front entrance, back against the wall, clearing the space the way I’d been taught before I was old enough to drive.
I got to the front window and looked out. It was the local authorities. Two of them, hats in hand, the particular posture of men delivering news rather than making arrests. My father was already in his doorway in his robe.
I exhaled and tucked the gun into my waistband at my back and opened the door.
We reached the entrance at the same time.
“Sir, Grimson, do you have a moment?”
“Yeah, should we go in?”
“No sir, there’s been an incident.”
We looked at each other before the taller officer spoke quietly, respectfully. There had been an incident. A woman matching Karyn's description had been found at the base of the cliff walk north of the resort.
The path was known to be unstable after dark. Staff had reported a bottle of wine missing from the neighboring villa’s terrace. They were very sorry. These things happened sometimes when guests wandered in the night.
I listened to every word and watched my father receive it.
Legend Grimson stood with his shoulders pulled back and his jaw set, the picture of a man absorbing the heaviest news you could get on vacation. His eyes went distant. But he quickly took off for the villa. I followed behind him as he went on the hunt for her.
“Karyn, baby. Karyn.”
He opened every door, looked in every direction before plopping down on the couch in defeat.
“Sir, we are very sorry for your loss. We do need you to follow us to the station to answer a few questions and identify her body.”
“Okay, I need to get dressed and make some calls.” He looked despondent. I was worried about him for a second. I didn’t fuck with Karyn, but I wasn’t inhumane. This was so crazy, Dateline shit.
The authorities gave their condolences, explained the process, and left their information.
They were gone in ten minutes.
My father and I stood at the villa entrance in the early morning quiet. The ocean moved behind us, indifferent and eternal.
He turned to look at me. His eyes were clear, and the look of shock and sadness was gone. Amusement.
“What the fuck is funny, pops?” asked in a hushed tone in case someone was listening.
“Congratulations on your union, take care of my daughter-in-law,” he said. “I gotta go do what needs to be done. I’ll see you when you make it home.”
I held his gaze as he tipped his head my way.
“One less fox in the hen house?”
He straightened his collar. “Handle your wife, son.”
I nodded, shook his hand, and hugged him before he headed back inside to pack.
I made it back to the villa and found Coco sitting up in bed, sheet pooled at her waist, hair loose, reading my face the way she'd learned to read it.
“What happened?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand. “Karyn. They found her this morning at the base of the cliff walk. She must have gone out last night.” I paused. “She’s gone, Co.”
Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, my God.” Her eyes filled immediately, the way Coco’s eyes filled before her composure could catch up. “Lesley, what?”
“I know.”
“Your father, how’s he doing? Oh my god. How?”
“He's handling it. Flying back today.”
She looked at me for a long moment. I kept it still and gave her nothing to find. She reached up and touched my jaw the way she always did when she wanted to soothe me.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
“Yeah.” I turned my face into her palm for just a second. “I’m good.”
She pulled me into her and held on, her arms around my neck, her chin on my shoulder. I let her hold me and looked out at the ocean through the open terrace doors, gray and vast and already moving on.
“Are we going home?”
“No, this trip was about you, and that remains.”