Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
MIA
“What the hell just happened?” Grace bellowed, stomping against the marble floor covering the wide hallway.
Mia sighed, clutching Alex’s arm as he led the way into the library, a large room with high ceilings and glass walls that, according to the property brochure, allowed an unobstructed, immaculate view of the Caribbean Sea. At fourteen minutes after midnight, all Mia could see was their distorted images reflecting at them from the glass.
“Was he serious?” Chris asked, collapsing into one of the two cane chairs in front of the antique mahogany desk positioned in the center of the room.
Mia looked around, thinking the photos online looked better than the actual space, which she would describe as decorated in a Colonial plantation chic style, with gleaming dark wood furniture, natural fiber rugs, and large potted palms positioned in the four corners. On the walls were framed old world maps of the Caribbean, most of them faded sepia, complimenting the neutral color palette of sand, beige, and pearl.
Alex moved toward one of the divans, and sat, pulling her down next to him.
“He’s going to destroy our lives?” Grace said, her voice shrill with panic and wine. “What the fuck? Who the hell talks like that? What, does he think this is an episode of Days of Our Lives ? Or some ridiculous Marvel movie?”
Chris nodded. “He sounded very much like a supervillain.”
“Relax,” Alex said, leaning back against the couch. “He was obviously drunk.”
“He had been drinking all afternoon,” Mia said, her hand resting supportively on Alex’s thigh. “He was drinking when we got here.”
“Maybe he’s using again,” Jason said.
“Or, maybe he’s serious,” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest as she paced, walking slowly around the divan on the left side of the room.
Grace frowned at Sarah. “Tell me you don’t believe that.”
“Then again … “ Alex leaned forward. “Sarah might be right.”
“Tell me you don’t believe that ,” demanded Mia, scowling at her husband.
“Phil’s got the motive, means, and opportunity to ruin us,” said Alex, his tone contemplative, gaze circumspect .
Grace snorted. “So, what, now we’re in an episode of … some cop show?”
“Lawyer show,” said Chris. “We’re lawyers.”
“What about the note he showed us?” Jason asked.
Alex frowned. “What about it?”
“I wonder who sent it,” Grace said.
“He thinks it was one of us,” Jason said, glancing around the room.
Mia followed his gaze, flitting from Chris to Grace to Alex to Sarah and finally to her. Had Jason hesitated when he looked at her? Had she seen something in his gaze, suspicion maybe, suggesting he might think she was behind the messages?
“Wasn’t me,” Chris said, his voice resolute, as though he was trying to put any doubts about him to rest quickly. Mia didn’t doubt him. Chris lacked fortitude and cunning. Sending Phil those notes would mean going against Alex’s wishes. Chris didn’t have the balls to do that.
“Me, either,” said Grace, plopping down onto the other cane chair, hoisting a leg over the side.
“What about what the note said?” Sarah continued to pace.
Alex stared at her. “What about it?”
Sarah faced him. “What do you think it means?”
“Who cares?” Alex said. “The note doesn’t matter.”
“How can you think it doesn’t matter?” Sarah demanded.
Jason said, “What matters is which one of us sent the note and why.”
“What do you mean, which one of us?” Chris asked, a hint of injury in his tone. “None of us sent that note. Why would we?”
“It has to be one of us,” Jason said, jumping up from the divan. “We’re the only ones who know what happened that night.”
“Unless we’re not,” Sarah said, resuming her pacing.
“Whether we are or whether we’re not doesn’t matter,” Alex said. “We’re the ones Phil threatened. The ones he’s going to ruin.”
Mia took a deep breath. “I don’t think he meant that. He was drunk. Exaggerating.”
“That was no exaggeration,” Alex said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He knows the truth.”
Grace sat up. “You think Phil knows?—“
“He’s pissed that we made a fool of his father,” Alex said. “We took advantage of what happened that night and benefited from it. And, so, he’s angry. He wants to get back at us.”
“He’s probably been waiting all this time to get revenge,” Jason said.
Chris said, “Well, it’s a dish best served cold.”
Mia shook her head. “But why would he want to get revenge on us?”
Alex scowled at her. “We tricked his father.”
“We helped Phil,” Mia disputed.
“We made sure his sick, twisted ass didn’t go to jail,” Grace points out. “Why shouldn’t we have benefited from all those lies we told.”
As Mia sighed, she caught a look between Alex, Chris, and Jason, something strange, sinister. Alex exerting control, dominance … but over what?
With one look, Alex could convey a multitude of commands, when he wanted his will carried out, when he wanted you to submit, to do what he wanted, without question. Jason’s defeated expression and Chris’s dutiful acceptance, told Mia they were falling back, standing down, letting Alex take the lead.
Was there some secret collusion between the men? Something other than the original malfeasance which had brought them to the island? Mia knew about Alex’s plan to blackmail Phil, the same way he’d extorted Mr. Richart, Phil’s father, fifteen years ago. He’d revealed the plan to her when she balked at his request to invite Sarah on a trip where Phil would be present. She knew the necessity of the plan and didn’t mind it. Alex needed money; Phil had unlimited access to it. Of course, blackmail was unsavory, nasty work, wicked business, but Alex wouldn’t be able to blackmail Phil if Phil hadn’t assaulted Sarah.
Alex said, “Listen, we can’t lose focus worrying about things that don’t matter. Obviously, Phil knows what we did. He knows we lied to his dad?—”
“How can you be so sure?” Sarah challenged, walking toward Alex.
Alex exhaled. “Phil is not stupid. He obviously put two and two together and figured out what we did. He knows we tricked his dad.”
Mia shuddered. She’d known Alex’s idea to scam Mr. Richart would be a bad idea. She’d tried to persuade him not to do it. Tried to tell him the decision would come back to haunt him, but Alex had insisted. Like he always did, whenever he made up his mind. You either went along with him, or you were against him.
“We can’t let Phil ruin us,” Alex said. “We have to stop him before he destroys our lives. Everything we care about. Everything we’ve worked for.”
“You sound just as crazy as Phil,” Grace said. “Do you hear yourself? I doubt very highly that Phil is out to get us.”
Mia agreed with Grace, but she didn’t want to censure Alex in front of their friends. She didn’t want to risk his public rebuke or his private wrath.
“Phil was serious about getting back at us,” Alex said. “We need to be just as serious about making sure he doesn’t get the chance to make our lives hell.”
“And how would we do that?” Sarah asked.
Alex paused, then said, “Well, we’re on a private island in the middle of the Caribbean.”
“And, so?” Grace said, frowning.
Mia stiffened, wanting to hear Alex’s answer, and yet wishing Grace hadn’t asked the question.
“And so …” Alex paused again, then said, “You know, accidents happen.”
Feeling something deflate within her, Mia looked away, tried to focus on one of the framed antique maps.
“What does that mean?” Sarah asked.
Alex said, “What do you think it means?”
Jason said, “You can’t be serious.”
“Phil wants revenge,” Alex said. “He’s going to make us pay, whether you believe that, or not. He’s got the resources to cut us all off at the knees. I don’t know about you, but I like having the ability to walk.”
“So, you’re suggesting …” Grace trailed off. “Wait. What are you suggesting? You want to …”
Jason said, “He’s suggesting that Phil have an accident while he’s on the island.”
Sarah glared at Alex. “Is Jason right? You want to … ”
“I want to live my life without the threat of some ungrateful billionaire plotting to take me down,” Alex said. “In order to do that, we need to eliminate the threat.”
“That was not the plan,” Jason seethed, stabbing a finger toward Alex. “You did not say anything about … I did not agree to?—”
“Plans change,” Alex said. “We get rid of Phil before he gets rid of us.”