Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
TRISTAN
“Bring the evidence,” Jem says. “We’ll go to the office now. I have everything prepared.”
One half of me is shocked, but there’s that other half that’s been taking stock of all the signs, if subconsciously.
Mike telling us the Pemba harbor isn’t a good place to hang out, Roger avoiding certain dhows on dives and being bitter about other people making a quick buck. Why did nobody mention this to us?
I watch in horror as the two officers stack my laptop and all my other electronics into one of my travel crates. “Be careful,” I hiss. “I have a lot of important—” irreplaceable “—data on there.”
“That’s what I thought.” Jem runs me down with her gaze, matriarch to the core.
I knew she was on to something, plotting, spying, but this is so out left field I want to laugh. Except it’s no laughing matter.
Lexi just stands there, looking like she’s seen a ghost. I bet this is a rerun of what happened when her dad got arrested all those years ago.
It took three years of hanging out with Evan before he opened up to me about what had gone down in New Orleans, just a year after the family lost their home in the hurricane.
After that, I dug around. Who wouldn’t, once you realized your best friend’s dad was a convicted felon?
Not only did Alexander O’Reilly steal from donors, he stole money allocated to the Hurricane Relief Fund.
The vitriol was so toxic, Anita left New Orleans for a new life in Miami with the kids.
But in the middle of all of it, there was little Lexi, soaking the anger and hatred towards her dad up like a sponge.
The family used to call her Alexa, but her name was too close to Alex O’Reilly, which was plastered all over the news.
So she started asking people to call her Lexi instead, burying Alexa and that past forever.
I bet she would have changed her surname if she could.
Even more reason for this fake engagement to have her in a pretzel. For her, this has been fraud from day one. And now this.
“It’s going to be fine, Lexi,” I call to her, but she doesn’t even look in my direction. They’ve got nothing on us. I keep quiet. Saying that won’t help, not when we’ve been living a partial lie here from the beginning. Well, the truth’s going to come out now, whether we want it to or not.
A coastguard has me by the arm, and I roll my eyes. The handcuffs are unnecessary, given our location, but I play along, keeping my eye on Lexi, as she’s holding it together by a thread.
We make our way along the beach, and the floatplane skids over the water and stops close to shore. Our little group comes to a standstill, and I want to reach for Lexi’s hand, but I can’t. She’s crossed her arms over her chest, protective. Now she blinks in the sunlight, tears brimming.
“Babes,” I whisper.
She shakes her head, not looking at me. “No. No… No more lies.”
I bite down, wishing I could rewind to…I don’t know how far back. Five years probably. I’d start the do-over right there.
The floatplane’s door pops open, and all eyes are glued to the man who steps out. Nathan Beaumont emerges in a white short-sleeved shirt and cargo shorts, carrying leather flip-flops in one hand. He salutes the pilot and strides through the water toward us.
Jem splits from our group and meets Nathan halfway. As she holds out her hand to him, he pulls her close for a hug. A hug?
I look over at Lexi, and she’s blinking. “Oh my God,” she whispers. “Of course.”
“Of course what?” I ask, leaning closer.
“She started as a nanny here. His nanny. Oh, God. I’ve seen this so many times. Rich people, just dumping their kids with their nannies at the hotel. That bond…nothing breaks it.”
Nathan walks up with Jem by his side as they laugh at some joke. The other men stand taller, grappling for their diminishing authority in a Beaumont’s presence. Jem and Nathan walk past us, so deep in conversation that he doesn’t even acknowledge us.
Lexi shudders, and her bottom lip trembles. I look up the beach. The few guests on this side of the hotel shoot us curious glances, but it’s mostly the staff who are hovering, waiting to see what happens next.
“Follow them to the office,” I tell her. “We’re not putting on a show for anybody.”
“Is that so?” Lexi whispers. “Tris, we’ve put on a show from the start, and I can’t anymore.”
“Keep your cool, babes. Who knows what’s really going on. We’re only seeing one half of the coin here.”
We make our way to the office, the coastguard and police muttering to themselves in Swahili. As we pile inside, we find Jem and Nathan standing at her whiteboard.
They both look in our direction, and suddenly the office seems very small.
Nathan homes in on Lexi and holds out his hand.
“Alexandra O’Reilly.” He studies her face as they shake.
“Nathan Beaumont. I can see why you made a beeline for the middle of nowhere.” He lets go, and Lexi drops her limp hand to her side.
“That video isn’t going to do you any favors in this industry. ”
Lexi seems to sway on the spot, and I swear under my breath. She looks like she’s about to faint.
“The video?” she repeats, eyes like saucers.
Nathan’s lips arch up in a wry, dry smile, and he shakes his head. “Your meme is trending everywhere. If we wait long enough, it will reach this last outpost too.”
“Nathan,” I say, feeling useless. If only I could reach out and hold her. Touch her. Anything.
He turns to me, and our gazes clash. He looks down at my handcuffs. “Hmm… A bit extra, don’t you think?”
“Sir,” Officer Odinga interjects as he takes a step forward. “We’ve discovered some evidence.” He nods toward the crate of my things the other officer is holding.
“I see.” Nathan sighs. “That’s not necessary, Officer. Please.” He waves at me, and Officer Odinga unlocks the handcuffs, muttering under his breath. I shake my hands as I reach for Lexi. She flinches under my touch and steps away.
“Please,” she murmurs, but doesn’t look me in the eye.
Nathan clears his throat. “Here’s the thing I’ve learned, Ms. O’Reilly, Dr. Martinelli: if it sounds too good to be true, it’s too good to be true.
Finding the perfect couple for a position that is notoriously hard to fill at the last minute?
Too good to be true. Dodgy stuff starts to happen?
Well, as you might have learned from the incident at St Chalamet, we can leave nothing to chance. ”
“St Chalamet?” Lexi says, breathless. “What do you know about St Chalamet?”
“Everything,” Nathan says. “I know everything.” He crosses his arms and leans against Lexi’s desk. “I totally understand why you had to skip town and come hide it out, Ms. O’Reilly. But I don’t understand what your fiancé is doing here.”