Chapter Eighteen #2
“It’s okay,” she says. “Wanted to get a peek at who you were texting.” She smiles like it’s a joke, but I’m not sure it is. Luckily, I was checking out last night’s sports highlights. I decide then to keep my phone close to me, just in case.
Jordan sits down on the same sun chair as me, and nods to my arm. “Told you hanging out with the Chasers would get you into trouble,” she says.
“What? No,” I say, holding up my arm. “I cut it on the engine of my boat. Real bloodbath. But enough about me.” I pat the other sun lounger, but she doesn’t even glance that way.
Jordan lifts her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. Her expression is cynical. “Why did you text me, Jamie?”
“Why are you mad at me?” I ask in return, a bit defensive. “Keep in mind, I’m the one who got punched in the face by your friend. He started that shit, not me.”
“You could have walked away on the beach,” she offers.
“He could have not been an asshole.”
Jordan exhales heavily and closes her eyes. She shifts over to the other seat, seemingly exhausted by me. “You’re making things worse around here,” she murmurs.
“Seemed pretty terrible without me,” I point out. “Now, what’s going on with you? And don’t just blame the Chasers.”
“You’re right,” Jordan says. “But I know better than to tell anybody my business, even you. Besides, right now, we have bigger problems.”
“Like what?” I ask, sitting up straighter.
She pauses for a long moment before lowering her voice. “They found Matteo’s cousin Felix,” she says. “They think he was murdered.”
My heart thumps wildly in my chest. That’s who was lying in the marsh. More than that… I know him.
Knew him.
I wince, a bit grief-stricken but not wanting to give away too much. “Where…” I clear my throat. “Where did they find him?”
“Apparently, he washed up on the beach,” she says, shaking her head, her eyes watering.
I’m stunned by the lie, struck silent. That’s… that’s not true. The body was on Rum Runner, so how the hell did it wash up in Cape Hope?
Jordan sniffles, and quickly swipes under her eyes before tears can spill over. “Felix Mancini was my friend,” she says. “He was a good guy; he always was. He shouldn’t be dead at twenty years old. He shouldn’t have been thrown away.”
She breaks down, and I quickly move to gather her into a hug, letting her cry against my shoulder as my mind reels. I’m completely speechless, and even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t know how to comfort her right now. It is truly too tragic for words.
When Jordan starts to calm, I back up, giving her a towel to wipe under her nose.
“Thank you,” she says. We’re silent for a bit, and even though I can’t really stand the guy, I think about Matteo. “How, um… how is Matteo?” I ask. “Does he know?”
“Of course,” she says. “He found out last night. He told us after…” She glances at me, but quickly averts her gaze. “After the fight at Bonfire Beach. His family is grieving right now.”
“I’m sure,” I agree. I furrow my brow.
So… Matteo came to Bonfire Beach already knowing that his cousin had been found dead. He wanted to talk to Noa—why? To let her know? Or… does he somehow know that she was the one who reported finding him?
I glance at Jordan and find that she’s put herself back together, although obviously still shaken up. “What happens now?” I ask her. “His uncle is Alessandro Mancini, right?”
“Right,” she agrees. “So you can imagine there will probably be an investigation, although he and my mother have already asked the sheriff to keep it out of the press. We wouldn’t want to scare aware the tourists.” Her comment comes out bitter.
I hate to do this, especially when she’s clearly vulnerable, but I have to press on with my own search about the Starline Hotel.
“Jordan,” I start. “This is a weird question, but… how does your mother know the Mancini family? How did they end up in business together?”
She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “They go way back,” she says. “I don’t really know much, but I heard that Alessandro used to date my aunt, back when they were kids.”
“Which aunt?” I ask.
She flicks her gaze to mine, and I see the hesitance there. I see that she does know the history, at least some of it. I watch as the walls go up around her, the coldness slides back in.
“Why are you asking, Jamie?” she says.
“I… uh, I was curious. Creed had talked about Chasers and the history, I researched it, and—”
“And you figured out I was related to Florence Marsten,” she says, watching me. “Yes, the Chasers murdered my aunt. No, we never talk about it. Who would want to bring up a tragedy like that? Except maybe your friends.”
“It’s not like that, Jordan,” I say. “They’re not trying—”
“Save it,” she says. “Trust me—I know what they think. If they could, they’d probably blame my aunt for her own death, anything to exonerate their own. But at the end the day, Florence was burned up in the Starline Hotel while the Chasers got to come home safe and sound. They killed her.”
It takes everything inside me to not tell Jordan that her aunt didn’t die in a fire.
But giving away a face card right now could undo the entire hand.
If nothing else, it proves that Noa and her friends were correct.
There was a cover-up. It doesn’t just include Jordan’s family, either.
It’s also the Mancinis. I need to figure out who told the police the story about the fire. Because whoever it was knowingly lied.
But right now, I have to rebuild my relationship with Jordan, otherwise, she’ll lock me out for good.
“Hey,” I say, reaching over to put my hand on her knee. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m really sorry about Felix. About yesterday. You’re right. I should have walked away.”
Jordan looks at my hand on her leg, then checks to see if I’m sincere. She presses her lips into a smile, and I can feel her loneliness. I can even relate to it.
“Thanks,” she says, seeming to mean it. After another moment, she relaxes in the sun lounger, as if we can just fall back into a routine. “So…” she says, checking her manicure. “Are you coming this weekend?”
I quickly run through different itineraries in my head, trying to figure out what she could be referencing, when she laughs.
“It’s okay,” she says, noticing. “Don’t hurt yourself. Tomorrow night is the Augustus Gala. In case you forgot,” she adds, “black tie, music—it’s a great place to meet influential people. I think one of the senators will be there.”
Literally sounds like a nightmare. “Wow,” I say, pretending to be impressed. “Amazing.”
“Our parents certainly think so,” she replies. “My mother is breathing down my neck about it. Even bought me an amazing dress. And”—she pauses—“she asked if you would be taking me. I told her you haven’t asked yet.”
I blow out a breath, like I’m not sure I can go, but Jordan quickly waves away my act.
“I saw you with Noa,” she says. “I get it. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Don’t I?” I ask, not sure if that’s true. She’s an extension of my mother’s dream, same as I am for hers. We are mutually beneficial, even if our hearts aren’t involved.
Jordan takes out her phone and then mine vibrates next to me. “I just sent you the details,” she says. “If you decide to show, I’ll be there. And if not…” She shrugs. “I’ll just tell my mother you stood me up for a Chaser and get her sympathy. I’ll win either way.”
I stare at her, unsure if it’s a threat or a way out.
Jordan tells me to take care of my arm as she stands up from the sun lounger.
When she’s gone, I head across the pool deck until I reach the entrance of the resort. I check behind me, making sure no one is looking, and I take a sharp right and head down to the beach to talk to Noa.