25 Suzy
Suzy
Juliet turned and bolted from the room.
“Juliet, stop!” someone shouted.
Suzy didn’t know who. It might have even been her.
But it didn’t matter because when they all got back to the great room, Juliet was bent over double in the middle of the space, dry heaving.
The twins had both jumped up from the couch, and Suzy went right over to them to take Wintour out of Vienna’s arms. Vienna barely noticed.
She was too busy whipping out her cell phone.
“Don’t!” Suzy said, sharply slicing a finger in Vienna’s direction. “Put it away. Now.”
Vienna, shockingly, did as she was told.
“Juliet?” Marley said gently.
She stood up straight and turned to face them, her eyes wild. “I don’t know how that got there,” she said shrilly. “I didn’t even wear those necklaces last night. I took them off when I changed, remember?”
Juliet looked from Suzy to Marley, eyes wide, desperation etched across her face.
Suzy tried to think back. She knew Juliet had been wearing a short fringe-covered dress last night but had no idea about her jewelry.
Though her beads wouldn’t have gone with the dress, that was for sure.
She probably had taken them off. So what?
Lincoln had snuck into Juliet’s room and stolen her rainbow beads? That was unlikely.
“Then how would my husband have gotten his hands on them? And why would he ever have been anywhere near them?” Hazel demanded.
“I don’t . . . What exactly are you accusing me of?” Juliet asked.
It was a fair question. Were they talking about sex or murder here? Suzy took a step closer to Juliet and put her hand on her friend’s back, holding Wintour in the crook of her other arm. “If Juliet says she doesn’t know how the beads got there, then she doesn’t know how the beads got there.”
“The hell she doesn’t.” Hazel advanced on Juliet, basically shoving Marley out of the way, and stared Juliet down.
Hazel was tall and powerful and young. At least eight years younger than the rest of them.
According to Marley, who had attended a spin class with her once, she worked out at Orange Fitness daily, an acolyte of one of their tougher boot camp classes.
She probably could have crushed Juliet—a casual yogi who preferred Shavasana to all other poses—with her bare hands.
“Whoa, let’s everyone calm down.” Marshall got in between Juliet and Hazel, his hands up in a calming gesture. “I think it’s about time we try to create a timeline of last night. See if we can figure out who was the last person to see Lincoln. Alive.”
Suzy adjusted Wintour in her arms and looked around.
For once, a rational suggestion. Not surprising it was Marshall who had come up with it.
He was always the most rational one among them, whether they were partying in the city, snorkeling in Aruba, or ordering pizza in Jersey.
He knew when to cut people off, what time of day the fish would be out, and exactly how many pies to order to avoid too many leftovers.
“And Trevor,” Hazel said. “Let’s not forget about him.”
“Candice was the last person to see Trevor. He said he was going to go check on the construction equipment, and when she found him, he was already dead,” Marley said.
“Does anyone know what time that was?” Sean asked. “Where we all were when it happened?”
There was a beat of silence as everyone looked around, waiting for an answer. A low rumble of thunder filled the room. “I’ll ask her, once she’s had time to rest,” Marley said finally.
Marshall nodded. “Okay, so for now we focus on Lincoln.”
“The last time I saw him was after Hazel got knocked out. After the fight,” Marley began, looking at her husband. “Then you took me upstairs, and we talked, and I passed out. What time was that?”
“That was around ten thirty,” Marshall said. “I remember because I checked my watch right before I came inside and saw you on the floor with Hazel. And then, when I came back downstairs, Hazel and Lincoln were gone.”
“We were at the bar in the tent,” Hazel said. “A bunch of people from accounting were doing shots, and Lincoln wanted to join them.”
“I thought you said Lincoln was sober,” Gemma said to Marshall.
Marshall lifted his shoulders. “He seemed totally lucid when he was shutting the party down and getting everyone into their cars, right, Grant?”
“Seemed like it to me too,” Grant said.
“You did shots right after losing consciousness?” Suzy asked Hazel, incredulous.
“Oh my God, I said the people from accounting were doing shots,” Hazel corrected them. “Not me and Lincoln. He was just cheering them on.”
Suzy placed Wintour on a free chair and raised her hands. “Okay, okay! Got it. Was that before or after that guy almost choked on the dance floor?”
Hazel’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t remembered that bit. “Before!”
“Wait, who almost choked on the dance floor?” Grant asked.
Suzy racked her brain, trying to remember. “Some guy who just got drafted by the Nets?”
“Carmello Van Buren,” Sean and Marshall said in unison.
“Carmello Van Buren was here?” Florence blurted and turned to Vienna. “How did we miss that?”
“Ugh, we could’ve gotten a cameo.” Vienna was annoyed. “He has, like, twenty million followers.”
Sean snapped his fingers and added, “Hazel, you tried to do the Heimlich, but the guy was too big, so you talked Lincoln through it. Dislodged an olive.”
Hazel’s eyes trailed over to the sliders. “He saved his life.”
“I think you both did,” Sean corrected, looking impressed.
“No way.” Vienna shook her head. “I can’t believe we missed that!”
“That was around eleven,” Suzy said. “Right when Lincoln was helping Carmello off the dance floor, my sister texted me, and she’s over in Greece, so I was doing the time zone math.
I think he took Carmello up to the house?
That was the last time I saw him until he got up on stage and made the announcement. ”
“What announcement?” Marley asked.
“The weather started getting really nasty, and he said that he was shutting down the party so people could get home,” Sean answered.
“What time was that?” Marshall asked.
“Midnight,” Grant supplied. “He asked me to go alert the valets that there was going to be a deluge of people and to get ready. And he wasn’t wrong. It was insanity. I actually ended up helping them.”
“So where did Lincoln go after that? Did anyone see where he went after he left the stage?”
People shifted on their feet. Suzy couldn’t remember.
She’d been busy obsessively watching Rainn’s feed at that point.
The Jersey Shore was flooding. Images of ice cream shops and mini golf courses under water.
Wind knocking patio furniture off rooftop decks onto cars in the street.
It hadn’t occurred to her to track Lincoln’s movements. Why would it have?
“I was at the front door saying goodbye to our guests,” Hazel said.
“And I started helping the staff take down the umbrellas and tents,” Marshall said. “The wind was getting intense. A few of the other guests pitched in as well.”
“I must have been inside with Beckham,” Juliet said.
Marley and Suzy shared a glance, and Suzy knew they were thinking the same thing.
Even though Juliet was the baby’s mother, it wasn’t like her to randomly check on Beckham, especially not in the middle of a party.
But who knew? Maybe all the drama with Josh had made her want to stick close to her child.
“I rounded up the girls once the announcement was made, and we went back to the guesthouse,” Gemma said.
“Yeah, we were watching the hurricane footage on YouTube, and Mom was reading,” Florence said. “I think we went to bed around . . . one?” She looked at Vienna for confirmation, and Vienna nodded.
“Yeah. One.”
Silence. Everyone looked at Sean. He seemed to not want to meet anyone’s eyes. Suzy saw something odd pass through Marshall’s expression as he stared at her husband. Something she didn’t like.
“Sean, when was the last time you saw Lincoln?” Hazel asked. “Where were you at midnight?”
“I . . . well . . . to be honest, I was asleep,” Sean said, glancing guiltily at Suzy. “Trevor sold me some good pot, and I smoked a little too much. You know that makes me sleepy.”
Suzy rolled her eyes. Like she was going to be pissed at him in this moment for getting high. They always got high on this trip. It was one of the perks of being away from the kids.
“Wait, Trevor sold you pot? I didn’t know he had a side hustle,” Hazel said.
Sean gave a shrug. “I asked him yesterday if he knew of somewhere local I could buy because I forgot to do it before we left, and he said I could buy from him.”
Suzy bit her tongue to keep from admonishing him for sourcing pot from a stranger. They knew how dangerous that could be. But now was not the time. She was impressed by her self-control. Maybe she was growing.
“Does anyone know where Josh was during all of this?” Marshall asked.
“Oh, here we go again,” Juliet said.
“What? Juliet, he’s not here. The last time any of us saw him, he threatened to kill Lincoln. And Lincoln has your necklace in his hand!” Marshall said.
“Maybe they both did it. Maybe they held him under the water together, and then Josh fled the scene and left Juliet to take the blame,” Hazel said sharply.
“You guys, stop,” Marley warned.
“I wouldn’t put it past Josh to take care of himself at the expense of Juliet,” Marshall said. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Remember Bermuda?”
Juliet groaned. Suzy had totally forgotten about Bermuda.
“This is a little different than Bermuda,” Sean admonished.
“Yeah, but that was totally messed up,” Suzy said.
A couple of years ago, Josh and Juliet had been invited to the wedding of one of Blue Dragon’s biggest R & B stars, on Bermuda.
If the socials were to be believed, it had been a lovely weekend full of teary-eyed speeches, bubbly drinks, and dancing in pink sand, but it had ended with a flight that was diverted to Georgia when the radar had gone out in Newark.
Once the flight was on the ground in Georgia, at 2:00 a.m., the airline had informed everyone that they wouldn’t be able to fly them to New York.
But they did have . . . shuttle buses. It would take at least twelve hours to get back to New York.
According to the story Juliet had told Suzy, Marley, and Lily later, Josh had been freaking out from the get-go because he had an early-morning meeting with the CEO of Blue Dragon to pitch some new music festival he and his team had cooked up.
Texting everyone he knew, he’d found an Atlanta-based rapper with his own plane, but the man was a paranoid control freak and had said that the only person he’d allow in his space was Josh. Juliet was not welcome.
So what had Josh done? He’d gotten on the plane, no questions asked, not a backward glance to be gleaned, and left his wife on the tarmac in Georgia with a bunch of strangers at now three o’clock in the morning.
Juliet had arrived back at their Upper East Side apartment the next day, packed a bag, and gone to Milan by herself for two weeks to punish him.
Suffice it to say a lot of money had been spent on boho-chic couture.
“Oh my God, do you even hear yourselves?” Juliet cried. “It wasn’t that big of a deal! I got home fine. And you’re talking about your friend. My husband!”
“Yeah, for all that’s worth to you,” Hazel sniped. “You’re a lying, slutty little cheater.”
“Hey!” Marley interjected.
“What? It’s all true!”
“Shut up!” Juliet shouted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Wintour started barking, jumping up on all fours on the chair. Suzy picked her up again and quieted her.
“Well, I do know you slept with my husband. And I know he has something that belongs to you on his dead body,” Hazel responded, pointing behind her toward the hallway. “What do you have to say about that?”
Juliet’s bottom lip trembled. “I—”
“No! You know what? I don’t even want to hear it!” Hazel cried. “I want you out of my house, you whore!”
“Hazel!” Marley said.
“Don’t!” Hazel snapped. “She’s evil. And she ruined my life!”
“Okay, even if that’s true,” Suzy said, throwing a placating I don’t think it’s true look at Juliet. Even though maybe it was at least a little bit true. “You can’t throw her out. There’s a deadly storm happening outside, remember? She has nowhere to go.”
“As if that’s my problem,” Hazel said, turning her back on Juliet.
“I can’t even look at her. And her bastard kid is sharing a room with mine!
I can’t do any of this!” Suddenly, Hazel burst into tears.
Not just tears—loud, racking sobs. Marshall went and put his arms around her, trying to help hold her together, but it was clear to everyone that she was completely falling apart.
And then, Suzy felt a shoe drop. It had taken her a minute, but—
“Hazel, how do you even know about Juliet and Lincoln?” she asked.
Hazel paused and hiccuped. She wiped her face on the short sleeve of her sundress.
“He told me,” she said, looking down at the floor and sniffling.
“After everyone was gone. He told me about him and her and . . . the baby.” Another sniffle.
“He did a paternity test with some hair he swiped after the baby-naming. Beckham really is his kid.”
He really was going to cut me off.
“Well, then doesn’t that give you a motive to kill him?” Juliet demanded shrilly.
Hazel’s face snapped up. “I swear to God, if I have to look at you for one more minute, I’ll—”
“Why don’t we just take Juliet upstairs?” Grant suggested, getting in between the two women. “Out of sight, out of mind?”
“Oh, so now, what? I’m under house arrest?” Juliet said, throwing up her hands.
“Just . . . maybe stay in your room,” Marley suggested, looking pointedly at Hazel’s hunched back. “Just until things . . . calm down.”
Marley reached for Juliet, and Juliet slapped her hand away.
The smack was like a gunshot. Marley recoiled in shock, as did Suzy.
She was pretty sure she’d never seen Juliet lift a hand to anyone in her entire life.
Was it possible they had all missed a violent streak in her?
That she was finally showing her true self?
Suzy started to sweat. Her brow felt wet, and her skin went hot under her bra. She had been barely holding it together herself. How much longer were they going to have to stay here, trapped by the raging weather gods?
“You know what? Fine. I’ll go lock myself in my room,” Juliet finally conceded. “If you all think I could have had anything to do with this, then I don’t want to be around any of you anyway.”
Just then, Suzy saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Two people had just walked into the great room from the east wing. Cole was one of them, and the other . . .
“Lily?” Suzy said, her vision going hazy.
But no, it wasn’t Lily. It was someone who looked a lot like her. Someone who Suzy hadn’t seen in person in at least five years.
“Juliet didn’t do anything, you Judases,” the woman said. “How about you let me tell you what I know.”