Private 10 - Suspicion (2 page)

"When Upton couldn't find you at the party he got worried and sent everyone out to search the boat," he explained. His voice sounded pinched. Like he was fighting for control. "No one could find you anywhere and Noelle lost it. Her dad insisted that the police send out search boats, and we all grabbed whatever boats we could find and searched too." He unclasped his hands and rubbed them over his knees. "I was in a boat with Noelle and my dad and brother, so it's not like it was just me who saved you."

"Please," I said, my heart welling as I remembered the fear, the sadness, the resignation. "I was just about to give up. If it wasn't for you ..." I took a deep, broken breath. "Thankyou, Sawyer."

His face lit up. For a moment it looked like he was trying to squash it, but the smile won out. Sawyer Hathaway looked me in the eye and smiled. It was only the second time I'd seen him do that since I'd arrived on the island. It was a very nice smile.

"You're welcome," he said simply.

"What time is it?" I asked. "Actually. . . what day is it?" Sawyer smirked. "It's December twenty-seventh. And it's a little after three. You've been sleeping all day."

I took a deep breath. I felt like I could sleep for ten days.

A hefty nurse with dark skin and long black hair stepped into the room, wearing a starchylooking pink uniform. She widened her eyes at us, then angled her head back into the hallway.

"She's awake!"

When she walked back into the room, she was followed by two police officers, one of them black, the other white. They were both tall, the black man broad and muscular, while his counterpart was more wiry. Both had stern, no-nonsense looks on their faces that made me instantly feel as if I was in trouble. They wore light blue polo shirts with blue shorts that showed their knees and leg hair, and sort of undermined their authority. I glanced at Sawyer, who had sat up straight at their entrance. His gaze was fixed on the cops.

"Good afternoon, Miss Brennan!" the nurse said in a Caribbean accent, walking around to the far side of my bed, across from Sawyer. "We are very happy to see you up and awake!"

"Thank you," I replied, keeping one eye on the cops while she wrapped a blood pressure gauge around my upper arm. I realized for the first time that I was wearing a thin hospital gown, underpants, and nothing else. No bra to speak of. Then I realized with a start that when Sawyer had saved me I had been floating in the water in nothing but a tiny pair of black undies and an even skimpier strapless bra. My face burned, wondering how much, exactly, he, Graham, and Mr. Hathaway had seen.

"Miss Brennan, I'm Officer Marshall; this is Officer Gravois," the white policeman said, pulling a small notebook out of the pocket of his shirt as he nodded at his partner. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Tired," I replied.

He smiled slightly, but his partner maintained his dire expression.

"That's understandable. But when you feel up to it, we'd like to ask you a few questions about your accident," Officer Marshall said.

Accident? I felt an instant flash of shock and anger. The nurse removed the blood pressure gauge with a loud rip and I struggled to push myself up onto my elbows. The pain in my muscles was excruciating, but I managed to get there. Again, the bandage on my neck pulled at my skin, and I placed my hand over it, trying to calm a burning sensation beneath the dressing.

"I can talk about it now, thanks, and it wasn't an accident," I said. "I was pushed."

"What?" Sawyer blurted.

"Pushed?" the nurse echoed.

"Excuse me?" Officer Gravois asked dubiously, speaking for the first time. He had a French-Caribbean accent, like the nurse did, which somehow made him sound even more condescending than he looked.

"Someone on the boat tried to kill me," I said firmly. "They tore off my necklace and shoved me overboard."

I winced, remembering the priceless jewels Noelle had lent me. Jewels that were now lost forever. That explained the burning sensation on my neck. The bandage must have been covering a cut left by all those diamonds and sapphires.

"Someone shoved you," Officer Marshall said flatly.

Their doubt shot under my skin and I pushed myself up higher. The nurse procured some pillows from a closet at the foot of the bed and pushed them behind me, helping me to sit up.

"All I remember is this musky smell... like cologne or perfume," I said. "And then someone ripped off my necklace and pushed me. That's how I got this cut." I turned my head so they could see the bandage. "Whoever did this is a thief and a murderer."

"That would be attempted murderer," Officer Gravois corrected with a chuckle. His partner hid a smile behind his hand. I noticed he was holding a pencil, but had yet to write down anything in his trusty notebook.

"You don't believe me?" I demanded.

"Perhaps you are confused," Officer Gravois said. "Or perhaps you feel embarrassed because the entire St. Barths police force was sent out looking for you for hours. You want to make it seem as if you are a victim, not a mere . .. what is the word . . . klutz?" Okay. Now I was pissed.

"I'm not a klutz! Someone wants me dead. How can you not believe me?"

"You were drinking, no?" Officer Gravois said.

Suddenly I felt even more alone than I had out in the open ocean. I needed help. Someone was trying to kill me and these were the people who were supposed to help. It was their job. But apparently they were too lazy to do their job and preferred instead to mock me. Desperation burbled up in my veins, making my heart race like I'd downed ten cups of espresso.

"Actually, no," I spat. "I had one glass of champagne. If I were drunk enough to imagine this entire thing, do you really think I could have treaded water for that long?"

"It wasn't that long," Officer Marshall said, flipping the pages in his notebook to check it. "It was only about three and a half hours."

"That's a long time!" Sawyer and I said in unison.

I glanced at Sawyer, grateful that I had someone on my side. The cops looked at each other, clearly amused by our overly dramatic antics.

"Look, you don't understand. This isn't the first time," I said, growing more frustrated.

"First, someone spooked my horse and almost sent me headlong over a cliff. Then my Jet Ski went haywire and exploded, and now this. Someone on the island is after me." My heart pounded as I told the story. I realized with a start that whoever was after me would probably try again. No. Notprobably. Definitely. They'd already tried three times, so clearly, they were determined to get the job done. I swallowed hard, trying to dampen my fear. 15

"Miss Brennan, you must calm down," the nurse said, touching her fingertips to my arm.

"You need your rest."

"I'll rest if you tell these guys to listen to me," I blurted.

"What's going on here?"

Mr. Lange's booming voice filled the room as he stormed in, followed by Noelle and Upton. I had never seen a more welcome sight in my life. Not only did the jackass police look instantly intimidated by Noelle's father, but Noelle and Upton's mere presence made me feel safe.

"We're just interviewing Miss Brennan, sir," one of the officers said. But I wasn't paying attention, because I was too busy staring at Upton and wishing I could touch him. Suddenly, more than anything, I just needed to cuddle into his arms and stay there for about ten years. But the room was so full now, he couldn't even get close enough to me to touch my hand. He and Noelle hung back near the foot of the bed while the nurse changed my IV bag. Noelle looked at me like she just wanted to hug me. I knew the feeling.

"Harassingher is what it sounded like," Mr. Lange replied, crossing his arms over his chest. His handsome face was red with anger, the little lines around his mouth deeper than usual as he frowned. He glanced over at Sawyer and me. "What's going on?"

"Reed told them she was pushed off the boat and they don't believe her," Sawyer said matter-of-factly.

"Pushed?" Noelle asked. She walked over to me now, practically shoving the nurse aside. Her long brown hair tumbled down her back in unwashed waves and she wore a plain white T-shirt, black shorts, and zero makeup. The most basic outfit I'd ever seen on her. "Who pushed you?"

"I don't know," I replied, my voice sounding small. "But I saw a .. . someone in a hooded jacket," I said, suddenly recalling. I glared at the officers. "I saw them moving away from the railing when I broke the surface."

"Can you describe this person?" Officer Marshall asked, his pencil at the ready. He cast a sidelong glance at Mr. Lange, as if he wanted to make sure Noelle's dad saw him doing his job.

"No," I said. "I couldn't make out their face from the water." The nurse slunk out behind the officers' backs.

"You have to admit, it sounds a bit far-fetched," Officer Marshall said, looking at Noelle's father.

Mr. Lange took a step closer to the officers. "If the girl says she was pushed, she was pushed. I expect you to take her accusation seriously."

The two officers glanced at each other over Mr. Lange's shoulder. I could tell they were still doubtful, but they finally acquiesced.

"Yes, sir. Of course," Officer Marshall said. "Of course there will be a full investigation."

"Good," Mr. Lange said. "I'll be calling your supervisor to make sure your department is aware of the gravity of the situation."

Officer Gravois's jaw clenched. I could tell he did not like the sound of this, and I was glad. Glad that he was unhappy. He looked over at me and attempted a smile. "Get some rest, Miss Brennan. We're glad you're all right."

Yeah. Sure you are. More like you 're pissed off that I just created actual work for you to do.

The two cops left the room and we could hear them bitching to each other in French all the way down the hall. Mr. Lange whipped out his cell phone and speed dialed someone, his lips set in a tight line.

"I'm going to go speak to the doctors," he said, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment. "Someone should be in here checking you out right now." As he walked out he barked into the phone. "Get me the St. Barths police department. Now."

"Thanks," I called after him meekly. Finally, Noelle, Upton, Sawyer, and I were alone.

"That's Daddy. Always multitasking," Noelle joked.

"He doesn't have to do all this," I said, a bit awed by his concern for and defense of me.

"Sure he does. He likes to be in control," Noelle said with a shrug. Like father, like daughter. I heard him pause to talk to some people out in the hallway and recognized Taylor Bell's voice. I glanced at Noelle quizzically.

"A bunch of people came to make sure you were okay," she explained. "Dash, Kiran, Taylor, Tiff, Amberly, Gage, West..."

All my friends from Easton. Even Gage Coolidge, who usually called me Farm Girl. And Amberly, who was closer to frenemy than friend. Of course Poppy, Paige, Sienna, and Daniel, Paige's brother, hadn't shown. Why was I not surprised?

"You guys believe me, right?" I asked, looking around at my friends.

"Of course," Sawyer replied.

My heart welled with gratitude. I was about to thank him, but then Upton walked over and paused next to his chair. "You mind, mate?" he said.

Sawyer glanced at him, hesitated, then got up, pushing the chair toward the wall with the back of his legs without a word. Upton leaned over and kissed my lips, running his hand over my forehead before dropping right down in Sawyer's vacated seat.

"Just calm down and get some rest," he said, clasping my hand in both of his. His deep voice and sexy English accent sent a pleasant thrill down my spine. The first pleasant sensation I'd had since I woke up. "We can deal with all of this later. Right now you just have to take care of yourself."

"Okay," I said, my voice full. "I'm so glad you guys are here," I added, glancing at Noelle.

"We're not going anywhere," Noelle replied, pulling up another chair from under the window. "Just try to get some sleep." I nodded and leaned back into the pillows, clinging to Upton's hand. A sense of peace came over me and I felt my eyelids growing heavy. Everything was going to be okay. Upton and Noelle would take care of me. And Sawyer. Sawyer had saved me. I wouldn't even be here if not for him. Plus, he believed me. He was the only one other than Mr. Lange who had actually said he believed me.

I forced my tired eyes open, intending to thank him again, but when I glanced around the room, he was already gone.

My bags were packed and placed next to the front door of the Langes' house, along with the footlocker brimming with college sweatshirts that Upton had given me for Christmas. Mr. Lange barked into his cell phone at the police, pacing around the glass-topped coffee table in the great room of the Langes' vacation home. I stood near the door, my fingers toying with the tiny shell on my rope necklace--a Christmas gift from Sawyer, which I had put on for the first time that morning. I stared at the footlocker, letting my eyes focus and blur, focus and blur. I'd been so happy on Christmas Eve. So in the moment with Upton. I wished we could have just stayed there forever, hanging out on the floor of his father's study. Alone together. Where no one could touch us. I had to get out of here. How could I stay after everything that had happened? But I felt the loss of everything this trip could have been. It pressed against my chest like an iron fist.

"Is that everything?" Noelle asked, comingup behind me. I jumped and let out an involuntary yelp. Apparently almost getting killed three times in a week can make a girl jumpy.

"Sorry. I forgot. No sneak attacks," Noelle said, touching my shoulder lightly. Her hair was back in a loose bun and she wore a black T - shirt dress with a neckline so wide the right side fell off her shoulder, exposing her perfectly tanned skin. She looked like a girl without a care in the world. Someone ready to spend her day lazing on the beach sipping pina coladas, just waiting for some hot guy to come along and reapply her suntan lotion. I had never been more envious of her than I was in that moment.

Carefree was not a state with which I was familiar.

"Yeah. That's everything," I said.