Page 47 of Vacation Friends

“Wouldn’t miss it.” She forced a smile, trying to remain composed.

Then she watched as Josh walked in one direction and the detective in the other.

She needed to be alone a moment. To sort her thoughts—thoughts that raced wildly out of control.

Her arms trembled as she started back to her room. Don’t look anxious. And watch your step. People are looking for any reason to blame you for Jared’s death.

Finally, she reached her door, waved her wristband against the lock, and heard a churning sound. She threw the door open and slipped inside.

But as soon as the door closed behind her, a white piece of paper on the floor came into focus.

Another one.

She carefully picked it up, dreading what she might see.

The typed words made her blood grow cold.

I know what you did that summer.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Maddie sat on her balcony, marveling again at the view from the fourth-floor suite. She stared at the ocean as she tried to process everything.

She’d hoped when she came here that she’d see at least one rainbow. But she hadn’t seen any so far.

She didn’t believe in signs, but if she did—this would seem like one.

After all, rainbows represented hope.

Her thoughts shifted back to more pressing issues.

Who had left this note? Why?

When the sender wrote, “I know what you did that summer,” did that mean he knew about her secret? How would he—or she—have found out? Everything was sealed. She’d even been able to get a job with the state because of that fact.

She stared at the words.

Yes, she was touching the paper. She knew that whoever had stuffed it under the door might have left fingerprints on it. But she didn’t plan on taking this to the police, so it didn’t matter. She avoided the police whenever possible.

Maddie found it interesting that this note had been typed—just like the one she’d received the night before.

Most people who came on these trips didn’t bring a printer with them. Sure, there was a business area in the resort where people could use a printer, mostly for boarding passes and tickets or things of that sort. Someone could have printed the notes there.

But that seemed like a lot of trouble, and this person could have been seen.

She leaned back in her patio chair, her limbs suddenly heavy and knots forming across her shoulders.

She supposed someone could have printed these notes at home and brought the papers with them on the trip. That would have required a lot of preplanning—the thought of which was unnerving. If someone had been planning this for weeks, then she really was in trouble.

But the only reason she could think of that someone might want to print these notes was because they wanted to disguise their handwriting. But why would they do that . . . unless the sender feared Maddie might recognize the penmanship?

The thought startled her.

Really, the only person on this trip whose handwriting she might recognize would be Josh. But Josh wouldn’t have had the opportunity to get back to the hotel after their excursion to leave this. As far as Maddie knew, he’d been talking to people ever since they returned from the clinic.

Plus, she couldn’t see him sneaking into the business center to print something like this. It would be too risky.

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