“Now what?”

“I’ll make another round. The one who did it will slip up eventually.”

“We need to go in.”

Wade cocked his head to the side. “Not until we figure this out, we don’t.”

Alex stepped closer, checked to see if anyone had wandered near, and then lowered his voice to say, “Earlier, Mark and Chet were bugging me about when help is coming.”

“I saw them.”

“It’s been a couple of hours, and pretty soon, the rest of them will start asking questions, too. Matter of fact, I’m surprised they haven’t already, and when that happens, I’m not going to stand here and lie anymore. The more lies we tell, the bigger this gets, and the worse it’ll look when there’s a flippin’ murder investigation on my yacht. I’m done, okay? You say they all seem innocent, then I say you’re out of practice. My boat, my rules. We’re going in. I’ll tell them I found the spare keys and we’re out of here.”

“I’m on your side here, man, but if that’s what you want. Your yacht, remember? I think I’d rather have my name bleached clean white before I had a pissed off detective getting me under a bare light bulb.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Alex turned and marched away before Wade could protest further. He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder. He already knew what Wade’s face would look like. Disdain, confusion, disbelief. He no longer cared.

He was innocent. He had nothing to worry about. He wanted his feet back on dry land, far away from these people who weren’t even his friends to begin with. And besides, who needed friends if even the best of them got you into a situation like this?

***

Alex climbed the ladder into the cockpit and threw himself down into the white leather chair. He slung open the small door embedded in the wall to his right, yanked out the emergency kit, and found the spare set of keys dangling from the rabbit’s foot keychain, so ridiculous, so trite.

Yet it brought up a golf ball in his throat. Erica had given it to him a few weeks ago, saying, “I got this for you. Every boat has to have something lucky on it, right?”

“I don’t know if that’s a thing,” he’d said, but he’d taken it anyway, smiled and then buried his tongue in her mouth.

He moved to slam the lid closed but a thin, navy blue rectangle caught his eye.

It was his old phone, the one he thought he’d lost a month back, the last time he had taken Erica out on The Harlot, just a couple miles offshore. A memory flashed by. Erica wearing nothing but a g-string that would’ve been better served as floss. She had on those gold-tinted aviator shades that reminded him of a bug’s eyes. A cocktail glass in her hand with some kind of electric blue liquid. She was threatening to throw his phone overboard if he didn’t pay attention to her. “Just one second,” he’d said. “I’m, like, two emails away from buying a minor league baseball team.”

Later, when he woke up, naked, limp, and looking for Erica to remedy that, his phone was gone. She’d claimed it had gone overboard, just like she said. Instead, she’d hidden it from him.

He felt the weight of it in his hand and wondered if it was dead, or simply off. If she had turned it off before hiding it, in theory, the battery should be able to last for months before the charge faded.

Maybe I should call it in now. Get out in front of Wade. He means well, but I’ve got the most to lose here. They’ll question Jenn, and they’ll question me. Jenn overreacted right in front of their faces, but I’ve been making love to—making love? Screwing? How should I phrase it when they ask?

He held down the power button and hoped the iconic apple would pop up on the screen. When it did, he allowed himself a brief smile. Good girl, Erica.

While he waited on it to come to life, he risked a peek over the cockpit’s wall.

Below, Mark and Terri sat with their backs to each other, staring out to sea with their arms crossed. Karen laid her head on Chet’s shoulder, resting in his caring embrace. Wade was near the stern, listening to Jenn talk, nodding here and there. He had to look over the port side to find Sharon and Laura. They had moved below him and were cuddled up on the breakfast nook’s couch.

Thank God he hadn’t taken the time to disconnect this number from this phone. With three more numbers as backup—home, business, fun—the cell in his hand used only for calls with Erica, just in case Jenn ever got nosy with his others, it hadn’t been necessary.

He bent over in the seat so the others couldn’t see him. If they looked up and saw a working cell phone, he didn’t have a stick big enough to knock them away.

He glanced in the upper left corner of the screen. “That’s odd,” he said.

No service.

PART 10

Alex found Jenn sitting in the hot tub near the yacht’s stern. Back when he first purchased The Harlot, he’d made sure to pick a yacht specifically with a hot tub, and specifically for her. He knew she’d love it.

Now, she sat in the warm, bubbling water curled into a ball with her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. She wasn’t relaxing, enjoying a glass of chardonnay like he’d seen her do so many times before. She stared absently into the pool, as if trying to read her future in the white, frothy foam like tea leaves.

She noticed him and seemed embarrassed to be found in the hot tub. “Oh, hey,” she said, sitting up straight. “I was just… I was cold.”

“We need to talk,” Alex said. He tried to keep the edge in his voice delicate.

“About what?” Curious, hopeful, Jenn put her arms on the ledge, leaning up to him. “Did you find something?”

Alex glanced around nervously. None of the others were within hearing distance. He’d wanted to get her somewhere more private, but with the group spread out as they were, and if they tried to go below deck, there would be too many questions. Here would have to do.

They were safe enough; although, he couldn’t see the person he was looking for.

“Where’s Wade?”

“He said he wanted to go check for more evidence around Erica’s body.”

“Jesus, Jenn, you let him go down there by himself?”

“Me? I’m not his babysitter. I didn’t know I was supposed to stop him.”

“We all agreed. Nobody downstairs without a witness.”

“What’re you freaking out about? He’s conducting an investigation.”

“He’s not even a cop anymore.”

“But he knows people, and let me remind you, Alex, you’re the one who called the Coast Guard, you’re the one who threw the keys in the ocean, and you’re the one who said we weren’t going anywhere until this is solved. What else are we going to do while we’re waiting on them to get here, huh? And for that matter, where are they?”

Alex pinched his lips together and sat down beside the hot tub, crossing his legs. There had been too many lies already. It was time for some truth. After what he’d discovered, he needed someone to trust, someone on his side, and Jenn would have to be it. “They’re not coming. We never called it in.”

“You what?” Jenn slapped the water’s surface, splashing Alex, splashing the deck. “Are you kidding me? Why not?”

“Please, please don’t say anything to the others. Not yet. It was Wade’s idea, back when we first discovered the bod—I mean, when we found Erica. He said if we told them the Coast Guard was coming it might calm the innocent people down and freak out the killer.”

“And look where it’s gotten us. Nowhere. Nobody knows anything, nobody’s admitting anything, and as far as I can tell, only Sharon and Laura have proof, but the rest are pretty damn convincing.”

“Convincing doesn’t mean innocent.”

“These people are our friends, Alex.”

“Your friends,” he reminded her.

“Whatever. All I’m trying to say is, I can’t imagine any one of them doing something like this. Erica is dead, I know that, and God it hurts, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I don’t know how to think of one of them as a murderer.”