Page 38 of Hide Me Darling

"You could definitely say that. I'm Beth," she introduces herself with a friendly demeanor.

"Taylor," I respond, extending my hand, it doesn’t hurt to be welcoming."Welcome to Amity Island"

"Thank you," Beth replies, glancing around as if taking in the surroundings for the first time. "Would you happen to know where the real estate office is?" she asks, adjusting her backpack.

"Absolutely, it's just over there," I point in the direction of Maddie's office, knowing it's not far.

Beth picks up her backpack again, a grin spreading across her face. "Thanks, Taylor. I'll hopefully see you around."

With a nod and a wave, I watch as Beth heads towards Maddie's office. Turning away, I resume my walk home, the familiar route now comforting after a day of observations and interactions. The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the streets.

It is strange to realize just how much I am enjoying my time here even with the investigation aspect. I don't know at what point I started dreading the thought of leaving here, but I know I will need to at some point. Even with these murderers, I'm not sure this island is really the right place for someone like me.

Chapter 18

Hydessa

I’m contemplating calling Seanna as I walk back to the house. Typically we call each other every other day, but she is really good at helping me organize the information in my head.

My keys are in my hand when I notice a package sitting on my doorstep, beautifully gift-wrapped and about the size of a tissue box. A small card is tucked under the ribbon. I glance around but don't see anyone lingering nearby. Stepping closer, I tentatively pick up the box, narrowing my eyes at the blank card. I unlock the door and walk directly to the office, setting the small box down on the desk.

I pull the tiny card from beneath the ribbon. It’s a simple gold color to match the ribbon. Turning it over, I see gold writing in an almost feminine script: "Welcome to the Island." Nothing else is written, and there are no distinguishing marks on the box. A gut feeling tells me to be wary, but I can’t be sure if that’s just my ingrained caution from childhood. Maybe it is a genuine gift from someone on the island like Maddie or Allegra.

Opening the box, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of cherries. My breath catches as I move the tissue paper aside to reveal cherry cookies. I faintly remember loving these as a child, but I haven’t had them in forever. Setting the box aside on the desk, I stare at it for a few moments. It’s probably a strange coincidence, but I decide not to trust them anyway.

With a sigh, I make my way to the kitchen. I have another long night ahead of me, so I prepare a pot of coffee and take a large cup back to the office, sipping it slowly before setting it on the desk.

I create additional notes to stick to the wall, reorganizing it so that I have one section for the victims with a separate section for the suspects on my list. It paints a picture that everyone thinks they know everyone, yet they all have secrets, and don't really know anything beyond the surface level.

With no details on the victims, I have no idea how they would even connect to any of the suspects. How do they come into contact with the tourists? Why are those tourists in particular selected?

I'm sure there are a lot of tourists that come to this island with no real prospects or home, but something tells me these tourists are specific. And what was the trigger that started the killings? Was there a specific event that flipped a switch?

I get myself another cup of coffee and when I return to the office, I glance at my phone on the desk as I lean back against it, my mind racing. Picking it up, I go to the message from the unknown number and taking a deep breath, I type out a response.

Do you kill for a reason?

A moment later, my phone buzzes with a response.

UNKNOWN

Hmmmm, I didn't realize we were playing twenty questions... careful, answers come at a price. Are you willing to pay it?

My heart pounds in my chest. This is not the kind of response I was hoping for but it’s clear I’m talking to a psychopath so this is actually something I can work with. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. My fingers are trembling slightly as I type out another message.

What sort of price?

UNKNOWN

We will want something in exchange for each answer, it could be as simple as an answer from you… or it could be something bigger… you won’t know until we ask for it or simply take it…

…

UNKNOWN

How much are answers worth to you?

With how little I know in order to solve this mystery, I would be willing to pay a lot for some simple answers. But am I really about to play the equivalent of Russian roulette with some killers? There is a part of me, deep inside, that is buzzing with excitement. The part that reminds me that I’ve killed people too. My reasons were always justified of course, but it's still a part of me that feels more connected to murderers than the victims.

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