Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Isabelle
All of a sudden everyone’s attention is on Allison.
We had words last night because I know she’s colluding with Alani.
I’m no fool and when I checked the latest video footage, I discovered them with their heads bent together whispering, and then they slipped away—no doubt to discuss me more freely.
After everything I’ve done for Allison, she betrays me every chance she gets.
My gaze moves over to Alani sitting at my table as if she’s one of the family.
I don’t like the way Lucas leans in toward her and now knowing she spent last night in his cabin, I’ll need to do everything in my power to make sure they don’t become involved.
Even if it means firing her. The moment she is out of the house he’ll forget she even exists.
The problem is, she is good at what she does and her father is my cosmetic surgeon. I wouldn’t want to go upsetting him.
I expected Linc to come to our room the moment he arrived home but he’s ignored me and sent Pete to ask me questions about my PA.
Why exactly would he believe I know where she is at all times?
I stare at my fruit bowl. The assortment of fruit makes my mouth water.
Plump ripe white and red grapes glisten with water.
Pineapple wedges in bite-size pieces, cherries, sliced banana drizzled with lemon juice.
I push my fork into a pineapple wedge and place it on my tongue.
It’s tart and juicy and I stare at Linc and lick my lips, before trying a red grape.
The chef has added a sprinkling of sugar, to make everything taste just right.
Linc only offers me a blank stare as if something is on his mind, so I turn my attention to Alani.
The girl is jumpy and pale. She reminds me of a rabbit; if I raise my voice, she’ll run back into her hole.
“I read the first chapters you gave me, and I approve of them. I was expecting a lot more from you by this time, Alani.”
“It will take me almost a year to write and self-edit the book before I send it in for approval to the publishers. I have a ton of research to do. We could hire someone to fact-check everything as we go, if you want to cut down the time that I’m here.”
I go to answer when someone hammers on the door. Linc’s phone buzzes and everyone turns at him expectantly. “Who is it?”
“The cops.” Linc wipes his mouth on a napkin and leans back in his chair.
My heart hammers as one of the staff comes into the room and speaks to Linc.
I turn to him but he says nothing, tosses the napkin onto the table and walks from the room.
I jump up and follow him to find two detectives waiting in the foyer.
The older one belongs outside. His shirt is damp at the collar, the sleeves are rolled up, and wet patches show around each armpit.
He carries the musky odor of male sweat and stands feet apart staring at us like we’re vermin.
A gold shield sits on his belt alongside his weapon.
The younger one is harder to read. Sweat coats her forehead and her hair is sticking to her cheeks.
She scans the house taking in the art, and the staircase, before her gaze sweeps over Linc and stays there a little too long before expressionless eyes move over me.
She’s coiled ready to strike like a snake.
I’ve met many women who revel in power and she’s one of them.
I can see her making a silent calculation.
In a few seconds she’s already made up her mind about us.
They introduce themselves, the older detective taking the lead.
“A body was found washed up on the beach this morning. Female, late twenties.” He looks at Linc and then slowly moves his attention to me, pausing and watching our reactions.
“We believe she might have been on your yacht last night. As you called the Coast Guard this morning and reported someone missing, we figured this might be the same woman.”
My stomach flip flops. Could it be Allison? I show no reaction. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Years of red carpets and paparazzi dogging my every move have trained me well. I watch a drip of sweat run down the female detective’s temple and drip off her chin, staining her blue shirt.
“Yes, my wife’s PA, Allison Dane, was reported missing when we disembarked.
If I have visitors on my yacht, I make sure they are all over twenty-one and are checked on and off the vessel.
You would be surprised how many women try to stow away.
” Linc folds his arms across his chest. “My security conducted a search of the vessel. We also searched the house and grounds but couldn’t find her.
I instructed my bodyguard to notify the Coast Guard. ”
The male detective pulls out his phone, scrolls through a few pages and then holds the phone out to Linc. He recoils and takes a few steps backward and all the color drains from his face. I look at him. “What is it? What’s wrong?” But he ignores me and just stares at the phone.
“Is this her?” The male detective holds the phone steady.
I move closer to see for myself but the female detective’s hand clamps around my arm. I glare at her. “Show me. I want to see if it’s Allison.”
“That’s not a good idea.” She draws me away. “Maybe later.”
“It could be.” Linc wipes a trembling hand down his face. “But we were at anchor, and she looks as if she went under the prop.”
“I don’t think so.” The lines around the male detective’s mouth turn down. “Someone stabbed her and cut her throat.”
“What?” Linc’s eyes open wide and he shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Someone would have seen something. There were fifty people on board last night.”
“Convenient, don’t you think? Her dying like that?” The female detective’s eyes narrow as she looks at him. “Your new song, ‘Blood on the Tide,’ describes exactly the way the victim died. It’s déjà vu, isn’t it, Mr. Boswell, but this time you’re right in the middle of it.”