Authors: Christy Barritt
CHAPTER 41
“Since
you seemed interested in that skeleton we found a couple of weeks ago, I thought you might also be interested in an update,” Dr. Turner said before the evening session started.
Riley and I were sitting on our couch in what was beginning to feel like a normal part of my routine. I straightened at Dr. Turner’s proclamation, trying to forget what Angelina had said about the doctor earlier. That just couldn’t be true. But it would explain his passion for strong marriages.
“I’d love an update,” I said, remembering the skeleton. “I find anthropology very interesting. Probably because I’ve watched too many episodes of
Bones
.” That sounded like a viable excuse, right?
“It turns out her name was Anita Nottingham. She was a housekeeper here on this island.”
“Wow. That’s pretty amazing,” I said.
Dr. Turner nodded. “State authorities took some of the old records from the island with them during their investigation. They were able to do some DNA tests and match what happened with the records.”
I was fascinated—not so much by the death, but by Anita’s story. “Do they know how she died?”
“Apparently, she was dusting one of the bookshelves and was high on a ladder when she lost her balance. She hit her head and died instantly.”
“Housework can be deadly,” I mumbled. I was trying to be cute. Really, I was.
Dr. Turner did not look amused. “I believe marriages are happier when the woman takes on the duties of the house.”
“That might be true in some cases, but not every woman was created to clean houses.” My words sounded funny to my own ears, since I’d basically made a living by cleaning for the past several years. But Dr. Turner was essentially saying that women should cook and clean and look pretty for their husbands. While I couldn’t say there wasn’t merit in some of those things, I didn’t like to pigeonhole people.
“I sense that your independence may tear your marriage apart,” Dr. Turner said.
My jaw came unhinged. “Me again? Why is every problem in this . . .” I glanced at Riley, at a loss for words. “. . . in this
marriage
my fault?”
“I’m just giving you something to think about.”
Riley put his hand on my arm, obviously trying to get me to settle down before I said or did something I regretted. As Dr. Turner moved on, I was still fuming.
Riley looked halfway amused. “What? You don’t want to rub my feet after I work long and hard all day to pay the bills?”
“It’s not even that,” I muttered. “If that’s what a person’s marriage personality looks like, then fine. But I really get the feel from him that women are inferior.”
“He grew up in a different age. A lot of marriages thrive under a more old-fashioned role model.”
“Is that what you would want from me if we were married?” I’d lowered my voice.
“I’d respect whatever you want to do, Gabby. I know God created you to do big things. Maybe that will be through your career, through raising kids, or both. Only you will know that when that time approaches.”
My racing heart slowed a moment. Until Riley leaned closer.
“And our problems were my doing, not yours,” he whispered.
His words did something to me. They made my bones feel like jelly. They made months of worry and guilt and burdens disappear.
I knew it took two to tango. But I’d needed to hear what he’d said. I needed to know that he understood what his leaving had done to me.
He did, didn’t he? Was that what he’d been trying to tell me this whole time?
***
After our session, Riley walked me back to my room, silence falling between us as well as tension.
He stopped outside my door. “You remember that homework Dr. Turner gave us?”
I nodded. “How could I forget?”
“I wanted to share a few things that I love about you.” Riley pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and cleared his throat. “Things I love about Gabby. The way she quotes musicals. The goofy T-shirts she’s so fond of. Her hair, especially when it’s curly. Her steadfastness. Her work ethic. Her determination. The way she’s real. When she enjoys her food and lets it show in its entirety. How she’s not afraid to look crazy for the greater good. Should I go on?”
My resolve was crumbling and quickly. Did he really love all of those things about me, or was he just playing along? I couldn’t be sure.
“That’s . . . that’s really sweet, Riley.”
“Thanks for not totally writing me off. Not many people let their exes come back into their lives. You’ve stood by me, and I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Then there’s something I need to tell you.” I reached into my pocket also and pulled out my list. I’d had it on hand in case Dr. Turner asked for it. I licked my lips before starting. “What I love about Riley Thomas. He has my back. He makes me feel safe. He pursues what’s right over what’s profitable. He’ll fight tooth and nail for what he believes in. He loves Jesus. He took in a stray parrot. He’s friends with people who aren’t just like him. He looks after the least of these.”
I glanced up, and the look in Riley’s eyes took my breath away. He appeared transfixed. For a moment, it seemed like old times. It felt like he should lean closer and give me a goodnight kiss.
But Angelina and Bo clattered into the hallway at that moment and broke the spell. Riley took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you in the morning.
I nodded. “Right. I’ll see you then.”
I went into my room and changed into my yoga pants and a T-shirt and washed my face. I tried to get Riley out of my mind. So, of course, I thought about the investigation instead. It was my safe place.
This was my last shot to get this right. If I didn’t find the killer this weekend, then Brad would never have answers. I’d feel obligated to give his money back. And I wouldn’t get that new car I needed.
My suspect list was being narrowed each day. Only two of three people stood out in my mind now.
I was going to figure this out.
I pulled my covers back, ready to get in bed. What I saw under the covers made me freeze.
It was a snake.
A water moccasin, if I wasn’t mistaken.
It stared right at me, ready to strike.
CHAPTER 42
Steve
successfully captured the snake and carried it out of my room an hour later. I’d run to get help, and a whole army of people ended up in my suite, trying to figure out the best way to remove the snake from my bed.
Finally, Steve had grabbed a box and a stick. He went into my room alone, made a lot of noise, and emerged successful.
Praise Jesus.
“This old building. That snake must have been living here before this was refurbished,” Dr. Turner said before turning to leave with the rest of the men.
But I wasn’t so sure about it. I would wager someone had put it there on purpose. Maybe someone who knew who I really was? Someone who wanted to get me off this island. The same person who’d been following me.
Steve seemed surprisingly at ease in handling the snake. Could he have anything to do with this? I wasn’t ruling him out yet.
I stared at my door after everyone left, hesitant to go back inside. What else might someone have left there for me? Did I really want to find out?
At that moment, Farrah stepped out of her room with binoculars around her neck and a notebook in her hands. She must have heard me gasp because she jerked her head toward me.
“I thought there was another snake,” she said with a feeble laugh.
“I’m just a little jumpy.” I nodded toward the equipment around her neck. “Hot date?”
She laughed. “Secret hobby, actually.”
“What’s that?” Spying on people? Plotting out murders?
“I like to bird-watch.”
“What?” Certainly I hadn’t heard her correctly.
She nodded. “This island is incredible when it comes to waterfowl. I’ve seen egrets, herons, osprey, and a warbler. I just can’t get enough of this.”
“You’re full of surprises. First, I find out you’re a pediatrician, and now that you’re a bird-watcher. What will I learn next? That you went to the Olympics when you were younger.”
“No, that would be my younger sister.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Fascinating. So is this really the only enjoyable part of this retreat, or was that an exaggeration?”
Farrah frowned and shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Sometimes I want to believe that things can be like they used to. Other times, I feel like our marriage is hopeless and that I just need to accept that. If Atticus doesn’t want to change, then none of this is going to work.”
“Do you think he wants to make it work?” I pulled my legs under me, feeling a heart-to-heart talk coming on.
“He claims he does. I just don’t know if I can truly believe him or truly trust him. He’s powerful. He thinks he can get away with murder.”
Her words made me shudder.
“Or affairs. Or living however he wants, really.”
“Is he still seeing other women?”
“He claims he’s not, but he’s the only one who really knows that.”
“How’d you hear about the retreat center anyway?”
“We’ve had several friends who’ve gone through this program. It’s the ‘in’ thing in our circles back at home.”
A realization began to beg for my attention. “You know other people who’ve gone through this? You mean, people from up in Baltimore?”
She nodded. “Yeah. We have our AA meetings, our spa days, and our therapy.”
“I heard there was another incident up at his second retreat center. Something about a woman named Khloe?”
Farrah went pale. “You know about Khloe?”
I nodded. “I have a few friends up in Baltimore also.”
“Blaine asked us not to tell anyone. We were actually good friends with Khloe and her husband. It was devastating when we heard what happened.”
“Why in the world did Blaine ask you to keep quiet?” I was trying to connect all the dots, but the process wasn’t happening fast enough for me.
“Because it would be unnerving to the other couples here, especially in light of everything else that has happened.”
I pinched the skin between my eyes, thinking everything through. “So let me get this straight. Khloe had a heart attack. Anna committed suicide. And Ginger fell off a bluff?”
“It’s strange, isn’t it? But it’s like Dr. Turner said, people who come here are at the end of their ropes. They’ve already been taxed emotionally. And the things that come up in therapy can be overwhelming. Ginger’s was just a terrible accident. I’ve seen things like this play out before. As a doctor, I know the effect of human emotions on a person’s physical well-being. It’s not always pretty.”
Apparently, the rest of the clients here hadn’t gotten word that I’d seen someone push her. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
But I also had another realization. Blaine and Dr. Turner weren’t the only ones connected with all three deaths. So were Atticus and Farrah.
Atticus moved further up on my suspect list.
CHAPTER 43
The
afternoon activity on Saturday had been pretty simple. There’d been obstacles set up and Riley and I had to help each other through them. Nothing dangerous had happened, and no one had been injured.
The anxiety in my stomach continued to grow, however, as I thought about what might go down tonight. Was I really prepared to handle myself? I supposed I would find out.
The good news was that Riley and I still hadn’t had any time to talk other than the normal conversations that all the couples were having.
Right now we were all gathered in the Therapy Lounge for a surprise. I had no idea what that might mean.
Dr. Turner, Blaine, and Steve all marched in the door with a strange look of satisfaction in their eyes. Blaine held something in her arms. Books. Large books.
“We have a special gift for you,” Dr. Turner announced. “Blaine, if you don’t mind.”
Blaine handed a book to Riley and me. With a touch of nervousness, I opened the first page and blinked at what I saw there.
It was a scrapbook of our time on the island. The photos inside showed Riley and I laughing, fishing, eating, and cuddling. Something about the images made my heart warm. We looked so happy in these photos, like a real couple.
I glanced up at Steve.
This
was why he’d taken those photos? And I thought he was only the cook, or maybe involved in murder . . .
“Blaine and Steve have been working hard since you arrived to put this together for you,” Dr. Turner said. “I instructed Steve, our photographer, to get as many candid shots as possible. I wanted to highlight your best moments. I think the books turned out wonderfully. Don’t you?”
Everyone murmured in agreement.
“You’re now dismissed for free time until this evening’s activity,” Dr. Turner said.
As the crowd thinned, Riley and I made our way toward Steve.
“Great job with the pictures,” Riley told him.
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“And to think, the whole time we had no idea,” I added. “How did you manage it without us noticing?”
“I’m pretty good at being sneaky. I hung out inside a lot and took pictures out the windows. I hid around the corner a few times. Everyone is so distracted with their own issues that they didn’t even notice me. The people here made my job easy.”
My curiosity heightened. “Is that right?”
That must have been the glare I saw that day when Riley and I were fishing. It had been the reflection of the sun hitting his camera lens. Why hadn’t I put that together earlier?
“Dr. Turner asked me to take the photos,” Steve said. “He asked me to be subtle so we could surprise everyone. Photography isn’t exactly in my job description, but Dr. Turner has done a lot for me.”
“Has he?” Riley questioned.
Steve nodded. “Yeah, I used to be one of his patients. He likes to help people out. He knew I was having trouble finding a job because of my record, but he also believed I was a changed man. I’m grateful for what he’s done for me.”
Would someone who was guilty admit he had a record? I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t think so.
***
That evening, we all met downstairs, dressed in our finest. Angelina wore a jean skirt with the word “Sexy” stitched across the butt and a white T-shirt. Bo had on baggy jeans and a White Sox shirt. Farrah wore a lovely pair of palazzo pants and an elegant top, while Atticus wore khakis and a Henley that probably cost more than I made in a month.
I glanced down at my dress. It was a white sundress that I’d topped with a black sweater. I‘d slipped on some silver flip-flops. I thought it was, overall, a nice look.
But as I glanced around, I realized Riley wasn’t here. Where was he? Was he okay?
Then he appeared coming down the stairs. He wore a white button-up shirt and some low-slung jeans. My throat went dry at the sight of him. He was . . . handsome. More than handsome.
He had my heart.
And when he looked at me and smiled, I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Was I setting myself up for failure? Maybe. But Riley and I did need to have a conversation. Soon. I had to stop avoiding it and face reality.
He stood beside me, his eyes still warm and captivating. I forced myself to look away, so I could figure out what was going on here tonight.
Dr. Turner grinned broadly, which made me even more suspicious.
Mr. Rogers Goes to Happy Land.
“Thank you all for coming,” Dr. Turner started. “I think you’ve each come a long way throughout this experience. I wanted to end our time together with something very special and meaningful. At least, I hope it will be meaningful to you.” He made eye contact with each of us. “Tonight, we’ll have a vow renewal ceremony.”
I sucked in a quick breath. Vow renewal? Really? I didn’t know what to think about that. Before I could formulate my thoughts, we were ushered outside, down the steps, and to the sandy shore below. Steve had his camera out and was snapping pictures, and Blaine handed each of the women a bouquet of flowers.
Anxiety churned in my stomach. There were a lot of things I justified myself acting through. But this seemed so intimate and personal. I’d be face-to-face with Riley, saying words that I had hoped to say to him a different lifetime ago. What if he saw the truth in my eyes?
“I’d like you to face each other and take your spouse’s hands into your own,” Dr. Turner started.
With my throat constricting, I placed my flowers by my feet and turned toward Riley. My cheeks flushed when I looked up at him.
There was something about his eyes that captivated me. The look there was enough to sweep me away to a happy place I’d be content to never leave. But that wasn’t realistic. I just needed my heart to get that message.
“You look beautiful,” Riley whispered.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of three fine couples who are determined to stick together for better or for worse,” Dr. Turner started.
Tears started to push to my eyes. Really, this was too much for me. I’d imagined this moment so many times . . . only it had been real when I pictured it. I hadn’t been undercover.
Dr. Turner continued talking in the background—something about birds again. I looked away from Riley before he could see my tears, but he let go of my hand long enough to nudge my chin up until my eyes met his.
He was just acting, I reminded myself. I didn’t care how his eyes looked. That meant nothing.
“God has brought each of you together with your spouse for a special purpose. You’ll grow together in the good times and the bad times. Now, repeat after me. I vow to remain faithful.”
“I vow to remain faithful,” I repeated. I wanted to break my gaze, but our eyes seemed locked together.
“I vow to love unselfishly, to hold on to hope, and to always forgive.”
I stumbled over the words. Had I forgiven Riley? Had I been unselfish? I’d like to think that I had, but, deep down, I wasn’t sure.
“I vow to make time for you, to let you know that you’re an important part of my life.”
Riley and I repeated the words together.
“I vow to put the past behind me, and focus instead on our future together.”
Again, my stomach lurched. I was supposed to be concentrating on the mystery we had to solve, and, instead, all I could think about was Riley and our past relationship. Could I put the past behind me? Was it possible?
“Now, I’d like for you to each take a moment to quietly speak to your spouse and tell them what they mean to you,” Dr. Turner instructed.
If Riley and I had actually been participants here, this would have been a beautiful moment. But right now I just wanted to run. Or dive into the bay. Or be carried away by giant seagulls.
“I’ll start,” Riley said softly.
He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the flecks in his eyes, see the stubble starting to form on his chin and cheeks, see a wisp of hair that straggled across his forehead.
My stomach clenched as I waited for him to begin. I wasn’t sure I could handle this or that my resolve would be strong enough.
But I had no choice but to proceed.