Page 102 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

“Allison’s going to survive,” Oliver says, getting control of himself. “She’ll be all right.”

“Thanks to you, I suppose.”

“Thanks to most jellyfish not being deadly.”

Shek emerges at the top of the ladder and takes in the scene in a lackadaisical way. “I say, have you noticed that this trip is cursed?”119

An hour later, we’re on a small bus to Anacapri. The BookFace Ladies have been up there since this morning, Harper tells me—joy!—and I’m sitting next to Connor, which, for once, is intentional.

When we got off the boat in Capri, I regretted it immediately. Out on the water, it was lovely and cool. But the town of Capri is cramped and crowded, full of tourists and loud buses honking at the people who are crazy enough to rent mopeds at the height of the tourist season.120

Sylvie shepherded us onto a series of minibuses and told us she’d meet us at the top for lunch at another local restaurant with a fantastic view. Based on my experience in Pompeii, I wanted to skip the lunch, but Harper reminded me that I’m contractually obligated to be there.121

In the meantime, it was time to get serious about figuring out what the hell is going on. So, I let Oliver get on the bus in front of me, then basically pushed Isabella on after him and watched the doors close. Then I grabbed Connor by the hand and hauled him onto the next bus while he sputtered in protest.

“What did you do that for?” Connor asks as we take a seat on a small two-seater bench that leaves us way too close together for comfort.

“Because it’s time to tell me the rest of it.”

“Rest of what?”

“Who is it, Connor? Who’s trying to kill you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. That investment you made. You need to come clean.”

Connor looks around. There’s no one on this bus that we know. “Why?”

“Because someone is trying to kill both of us, and I want to know who.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with that. Not if you’re a target, too.”

“You’re questioning that?”

“No, I—”

“Just tell me already.”

Connor sighs as the bus starts to climb a twisty, narrow road. I’m next to the window, and the barrier between us and oblivion is a low rock wall.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea for the both of us to get on the same bus.

“Last year, I made an investment in a cryptocurrency company.”

“I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everyone knows that’s a scam.”

“Oh, everyone does now?”

“Any financial product that has celebrities hocking it is suspect.122 I mean, are there Federal Reserve ads with Julia Roberts insisting that the dollar is a great investment in the future?”

“No need to be so condescending, Eleanor. Especially since it’s your fault.”

“My fault?”

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