Page 41 of The Engagement Party

He stood up again with a look of pure despair on his face. “He’s not missing.”

Ruthie didn’t get it. “What are you talking about?”

Mitch glanced at the floor one more time. “That’s Jake.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Book Notes: Emily’s Friends

It’s impossible to investigate Emily’s death without looking into the people who mattered to her while she was alive. A deep dive into her social media and diary focused the search. She obsessed about a certain professor early senior year. The poor bastard got an unexpected visit from the police during a midday lecture in a packed hall. Whispers about an affair started right after, but it turned out he had no clue about Emily’s interest and had a solid alibi that included being out of the country for a family wedding at the time of her death.

The other players in the game of Who Knew Emily Best neatly matched the list of people she spent time with during her last hours alive. A finite list of best friends. One other woman and four men. Will Mayer, Mitch Andersen, Alex Greene, Jake Parker, and Cassie Holder, now Cassie Greene. An indivisible group that for four years traveled as a pack and shared most meals. They met in classes or bricks, the nickname for first-year housing at Bowdoin. In later years, they spent weekends hanging out either at each other’s apartments, in town, or on weekend getaways.

They came from different backgrounds and had varying dreams. Anyone who knew the members of this little group viewed them as inseparable. But the look from outside the window rarely reflects the reality behind the walls. Friendships, like expensive houses, have an outward shine. Get an invitation inside and you’ll see the imperfections. Dig around and you’ll find the cracks.

With this friend group, every flaw and every argument took on the heightened ferociousness reserved for twenty-somethings looking at an uncertain road ahead without a map to guide them. Technically adults but vulnerable from their four-year cocoon in an environment meant to shelter, educate, and launch them.

Emily loved with a fierce sense of loyalty. Between the pages of the diary she thought no one would ever read, she described her friends both with terms of awe and disdain. In language that could be overly dramatic and romantic, or empathetic and mature, depending on her mood, she set out her thoughts, letting them form the final, biting statement about the person she was.

I told Cassie I’d been thinking about Mitch, about that dream I had, and she jumped all over me. Told me to leave him alone. Why does she get to decide? I guess turning Alex from a hottie to a simpering loser who all but wipes her ass makes her think she’s in control of every other guy on campus. I get it. She has this big life plan. With her, it’s all about a job and money but SHUT THE FUCK UP, CAS. Nobody cares about your sad mom or your sister who turned out to be a washed-up teen mother with three kids, living in a trailer at twenty. I love you but you’re exhausting!

With every line, Emily slashed into her friends to reveal what she viewed as their faults, at times embellishing them and at others forgiving them. She examined every hurt inflicted on her and others in the group both petty and significant. She assessed these moments through a black-and-white lens because she hadn’t yet experienced the world of gray.

I’ve decided! Mitch and Jake are the most attractive of our group. I was watching them the other day. Jake does this thing where he has to be the funny one, but he’s messed up. Can’t blame him. My brothers make me want to hide in my room, but I can’t imagine losing one because my drunk ass mom drove a car into a lake. And Mitch. He had no chance of being ok with that mom.

If the police hadn’t focused on a killer so early, been so determined to put a period on the report that wrapped up the investigation, some of Emily’s words could have been twisted. Inferences could have been made. Leaps taken. All of which might have pushed the search for the murderer in another direction and back to the original one. To a search of Emily’s inner circle.

Maybe I just find guys with a dark side sexy. It’s tempting to push them and see how far you can go. Discover how bad they really are underneath it all. Imagine trying to contain that!

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sierra

Sierra wiped the back of her hand over her mouth as she stood up from a second round of vomiting. The quick change of direction knocked her off-balance and sent the small room spinning around her again. Between the dizziness, lack of fresh air, and suffocating closeness, her equilibrium vanished. She gripped the side of the table for support. Her fingers landed so close to the dead body.

The hours of fear and uncertainty had caught up with her. Her personal motto ofI can get through this and thrivefaltered. Any momentum, every ounce of calm, abandoned her.

“I have to get off this island.” She didn’t wait for agreement or an argument. She didn’t want to see questioning looks, or worse, faces that showed only a mild discomfort at the sight of a decapitated person.

She raced around the other side of the table and grabbed the end of the rowboat while the others watched in stunned silence. Her sneakers slipped on the blood and the strain of pulling the thing burned through her energy reserves. She thought a few tugs would get it moving, but it weighed more than she thought.It bumped along, smacking against the concrete floor as she yanked with each fumbling step.

“Sierra, no.” Mitch put a hand on the boat, stopping what little forward movement she’d accomplished.

“Don’t just stand there. Help me.” Her arms ached and her muscles clenched. What felt like a permanent case of airsickness buzzed through her, but she kept pulling, trying to maneuver the boat to the door. “We can use this.”

That was the new plan. No details or set destination. Just get in and leave. Figure out the next move once they were in the water and away from the pile of dead bodies.

A head rolled onto the floor.

She would never be able to unsee that.

“There’s still a storm,” Ruthie said.

Sierra would take her chances on the choppy water. “It’s not safe in here.”

Her cell phone. The thought popped into her head. She didn’t have it with her because she couldn’t get a signal. She hadn’t eaten in hours and didn’t have food or supplies. Alex’s keys to the rental car could be anywhere. The weight of what she lacked nearly knocked her over.

“For now, we need to get back to the house.” Mitch gestured somewhere behind her.

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