Private 10 - Suspicion (3 page)

"Areyousure aboutthis?" Noelle asked. "Ifyoustay I swear Iwon't let you out of my sight for the rest of the trip."

"That's comforting, but no thanks," I said, taking a deep breath. "My parents are expecting me today and my mother is kind of freaking out after everything that's happened. I think she'll lose it if she doesn't actually get to see me and make sure I'm in one piece." Noelle smirked. "Parents."

"I know. Besides, whoever's after me is on this island, so I think the best thing to do is just to get the hell off of it," I added.

"Get the hell off of what?"

"Omigod," I breathed, my hand flying to my chest.

Upton had walked up behind us from the great room, once again scaring the wind right out of me. He was wearing a soft-looking navy blue polo and white linen pants, and his feet were bare. His light brown hair had been tousled by the ocean breeze and he made no move to fix it. He was gorgeous. Of course he was. But my heart didn't skip in excitement upon seeing him, like it had every other time he'd entered a room. Since being released from the hospital the afternoon before, I had been trying not to think about all those hours in the water alone. Instead, I'd been focusing on what had happened before my ignominious plunge.

Namely, that Upton had left me alone at one of the most humiliating moments of my life and run off to comfort Poppy Simon, the girl he had been hooking up with for the past few months--until he met me. Poppy was the person he'd been worried about after she and Mrs. Ryan had caught the two of us rolling around on the bed in Mrs. Ryan's stateroom. Her feelings were the ones that mattered to him. Not mine. When I'd seen him at the hospital, my mind hadn't even gone there. I was so happy just to be with him again, to be alive, that I'd momentarily spaced on how much he'd hurt me. But now I remembered. And I was not happy.

"Where did you come from?" Noelle asked. She shot him a narrow-eyed look. I had told Noelle the entire stateroom story the night before, and she had been about ready to drive over to Upton's and wring his neck. Girl always had my back.

"Walked up from the beach," Upton replied, tilting his head toward the sliding glass doors that fronted the white sand and the pristine turquoise ocean beyond. His sandy flip-flops had been left by the open door. "I was going to ring you, but it's such a gorgeous day I decided on a stroll instead. Now who's getting the hell off what? "

"I am," I said tonelessly. I picked up my hoodie, which I'd flung over the top of my suitcase, and shoved my arms into it. "I'm getting the hell off this island." Upton's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? Why?"

He sounded shocked. Like he couldn't think of a single reason I might want to go. I felt so angry and defensive that my shoulders actually curled.

"You seriously need to ask?" I blurted, zipping the sweatshirt violently. "In case you've come down with a case of sudden amnesia, one of your jilted girlfriends is trying to kill me. I'm not going to stick around here and give her the opportunity to finish the job." Noelle and Upton exchanged a look that made me want to grab the back of their heads and knock their skulls together. In the great room, Mr. Lange lowered his voice and paced over to the doors, staring out at the ocean as he spoke.

"Are you laughing at me? " I demanded, my face growing hot.

"It's just.. .we know these people, Reed. We've known them since we were zygotes," Noelle said. "They're not capable of murder."

"Yeah, but two years ago you never would've thought Ariana could kill anyone either," I shot back, staring her down.

Noelle's jaw clenched, but she never broke eye contact. She'd never been one to back down from a direct challenge, even when she was 100 percent wrong. 

"For the record, I would have," Upton said, raising a hand. "Girl was always a bit dodgy in my opinion."

"Shut up, Upton," Noelle said impatiently. "Okay, I never would've thought Ariana could kill anyone either, but Ariana was different. Poppy and Paige . . . they don't have the guts to do something like this."

"What about Sienna? You haven't known her since you were 'zygotes,'" I said sarcastically, throwing in some air quotes.

"No, but Sienna is harmless," Upton said, stepping closer to me.

"Harmless? She left me in a shower stall for hours, freezing my ass off with no clothes," I replied.

"Right. I'd forgotten about that," Upton said, looking at his feet. "Okay, so she's not harmless, but she's not a violent person. You have to be quite mad to commit murder, Reed, and that's not Sienna."

His tone was placating, almost condescending. I glanced at Noelle. Both of them were looking at me as if I was some irrationally scared toddler. Like I'd just woken up from a nightmare and they were trying to convince me that the monsters weren't real. But they were real. Someone had pushed me off that boat. I had felt their hands, smelled their fragrance, seen them slink away. Why didn't anyone want to believe me?

"I don't understand how you guys can act like nothing's wrong," I said, desperation welling inside my chest, constricting my lungs. "Someone is trying to kill me. They spooked my horse, they rigged my Jet Ski, they shoved me off a moving boat. Three times in the last week I've almost died. Don't you get it? I can't stay here."

Tears welled up in my eyes, which frustrated me even more; I was playing into their image of me as a frightened, irrational baby. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. My vision was blurry as I glared at them in defiance, but no tears escaped.

"Reed, Misty and the Jet Ski . . . those were simply accidents," Upton said, taking my hands lightly in his.

I clucked my tongue. "No, they--"

"But if you say someone pushed you off the boat, then someone pushed you off the boat," Upton added, interrupting me. "And if you stay here, you'll be available to the police. Maybe you'll remember something that will help them sort it all out." I scoffed, my voice bubbly and wet. "Please. They're not even going to investigate this. They think I'm some drunk, spoiled liar."

"Oh, they're investigating it," Noelle said, glancing over her shoulder at her father, whose back was to us. "You saw how pissed off Daddy was. Believe me, he's going to take care of it."

Mr. Lange's phone snapped shut and he huffed a sigh, muttering under his breath as he approached us. As always, his clothes were crisp and pressed--a light yellow button-down shirt over gray pants--but he looked tired. Exhausted, actually. He pressed the top of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before addressing me.

"Reed, I'm so sorry, but it looks like we won't have access to the jet until tomorrow," he said.

"What? Why?" Noelle asked.

His nostrils flared slightly. "Your mother has seen fit to fly it back to the States to pick up some sort of flowers she simply must have for the centerpieces at the gala," he replied sarcastically.

Noelle sighed. "That's Mom for you."

Noelle's mother was hosting her annual hospital benefit on the island the following week. She had been wrapped up in the plans ever since we'd arrived, and I'd barely laid eyes on her, even though I'd been living in her house for the past week. Which made sense if she was jaunting around the island in search of flowers.

"There is one commercial flight leaving for Philadelphia later today," Mr. Lange said, checking the screen of his phone. "You'd have to connect through Atlanta, and of course I'd hire a car to drive you the rest of the way to Croton once you arrived. I feel horrible about this."

"See? Now you must stay," Upton said, squeezing my hand. I loved how flying commercial wasn't even an option for him. Before last year I'd never been on any kind of plane, never mind been spoiled into thinking a private jet was the only civilized way to go.

"No. It's okay. I'll take the commercial flight," I replied, pulling my fingers away. Upton, for the first time, seemed to sense the cold vibe I was giving off. His brow creased and he pushed his hands into his pockets, looking dejected.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Lange asked. "I can have the jet gassed and ready for you first thing in the morning."

"Yes, I'm sure," I replied. "I'll go today."

"I'll call my travel agent." Mr. Lange flipped open the phone again, but Noelle held up a hand.

"Wait, Daddy."

He did. She turned to face me.

"Reed, come on. Just sit tight one more day," she said. "We can stay here on our beach, hang out at the house. I promise you won't have to see Poppy, Paige, or Sienna if you don't want to. You should get at least one day of relaxation out of this trip."

I looked into her eyes and realized with a start that she felt guilty. Like all of this was somehow her fault. Why? Because she was the one who had invited me here? That was crazy. She had been trying to do something nice for me. It wasn't her fault one of her friends had turned out to be a sociopath.

"Besides, you heard what Mr. Lange said," Upton added. "You can take the private jet in the morning. You'll be so much more comfortable and it'll take half the time." Apparently my coldness hadn't completely shut him down. Which was kind of nice. Part of me was glad that he wasn't simply giving up on me. But if I stayed, I was going to have to talk to him. Figure out what had happened, what it meant, and where we stood. The very thought exhausted me.

"Please?" Noelle asked.

That one word stopped me cold. Noelle almost never said "please." To her, just saying the word was akin to begging, which was not her style. I felt my resolve start to cave. I glanced at Upton, whose blue eyes stared back at me, open, questioning, almost vulnerable.

"Okay, fine," I said finally, feeling my resolve melt. "But first thing in the morning, I am on that plane."

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with warm, tropical air, and held it as I looked up at the blue-and-white brocade pattern of the umbrella overhead. The breeze fluttered the trim and blew the pages of Noelle's magazine over her hand. Digging my toes into the toasty sand, I let out the breath and felt relaxed for the first time all day.

"Okay, maybe you were right," I said, lifting my head from the soft beach blanket. "Maybe staying another day was a good idea."

My parents hadn't been too psyched when I'd called them, and my mother hadn't said yes until I'd sent a picture of myself to her cell phone to prove I was okay. It had, of course, taken her an hour to find the picture and open it. Cell phone technology still eludes my parents. But in the end, they had agreed to let me stay.

"Never doubt me, Reed," Noelle said blithely, lifting her strawberry kiwi smoothie and taking a sip from the straw. She languidly turned a page of Vogue and continued to read. Down the beach, I saw Paige, Poppy, Sienna, and Daniel, walking along, two by two. My heart caught and I instinctively curled my knees toward my chin, holding my breath as they got closer. One of those girls--most likely crazy little Poppy Simon--was trying to kill me. I was sure of it. Yet they were all friends with Noelle, so I was sure they were going to come over to say hi to her, while being fake-nice to me.

As they approached, I glanced at Noelle, whose eyes were trained on her magazine. I waited for her to lookup, to see them and greet them, but she just kept reading. And then . . . they were passing us by. I saw Paige and Sienna whisper to each other, and all four of them quickened their steps and kept walking. My heart pounded in my temples. What was that about? Any normal person would have wanted to get the gossip about the girl who had almost died at the Ryans' annual party. But then, they weren't normal. Maybe they didn't want to hear the gossip because they all knew that Poppy had pushed me, so they already knew all the details. But barring all of that, why didn't they at least stop to say hello to Noelle, their lifelong friend? I breathed in and out as they strolled farther down the beach and out of sight. Weird. That had been totally, completely weird.

I glanced up the beach again, uncurling my legs. A guy in green board shorts and a white T-shirt was walking along the water. For a moment I thought it was Upton. Perhaps sensing that I wasn't quite ready to talk to him about everything just yet, he'd made some lame excuse to go home and promised to meet us for lunch. But one good squint and I realized I was looking at Sawyer, not Upton. I sat up and raised a hand to wave him down.

Noelle followed my gaze, saw Sawyer, then returned to her reading. As Sawyer turned his steps up the beach, I stood and dusted the sand off the back of my shorts. He was holding a single miniature conch shell, which he toyed with as he approached.

"Hey, Reed," he said, squinting one eye. "Noelle."

"What're you doing all the way down here?" Noelle asked.

"I just wanted to come over and see how Reed was doing," Sawyer said, looking at me.

"Feelingbetter?"

"Yeah," I said. "Still a little sore, but better." His eyes flicked down at my chest. "Hey. You're wearing the necklace," he said brightly. Noelle glanced up as my fingers flew to the shell around my neck. "Yeah. I really like it."

"Cool." Sawyer was blushing. I could feel Noelle's gaze burning into the back of my neck.

"So, do you ... I mean, are you okay to take a walk? " Sawyer asked as the wind blew his shaggy blond hair over his eyes.

"Definitely," I said. I grabbed my sunglasses off the beach blanket and put them on. I didn't want to get too far away from Noelle's house, which we were currently parked in front of, but a quick walk with Sawyer wasn't going to kill me. "We'll be right back."

"I'll be right here," Noelle said, refocusing on the magazine. Sawyer and I walked down to the wet sand, where cool water lapped at our feet. He fiddled with his shell as we continued on down the beach.

"Listen, I wanted to thank you again," I said, biting my lip.

He reddened and shook his head. "You don't have to--"

"No. Not just for the dramatic rescue thing," I said with a laugh. "For sayingyou believe me about being pushed off the boat."

Sawyer's head snapped up. "I wasn't just saying that. I do believe you."

"I know. So thanks. I don't think anyone else really does," I told him, curling my toes into the wet, sloppy sand with each step.