Page 65 of Saltwater

Keep it friendly.

“Just get through this dinner,” Marcus said. “Then tomorrow—”

She owed Marcus that much. She could make it till tomorrow.

“Okay,” she said, “we’ll get through your dinner tonight. And then tomorrow I’ll call the lawyers and look for a place.”

They had taken a few more steps toward the entrance of the villa when Marcus stopped and faced her.

“But promise me…,” he said.

He didn’t have to finish.

“He’ll never know,” Sarah said.“Never.”

Helen

Now

I don’t know how Ciro alreadyknows about Lorna, but I hate this feeling—that I’m the last to arrive. You can always see it in their faces, the patient indulgence while you catch up. I see it on Ciro’s now, even if he tries to hide it.

“I should go,” he says. “I just came to tell you.”

“You already knew,” I say.

“A friend reported the body early this morning. It’s a small island.”

He starts for the door of the bedroom, but I stop him.

“You’re not surprised that she’s dead?” I say.

“Are you?”

The matter-of-fact way he asks makes me feel like an idiot. It was easier to imagine Lorna with the money, gone. Not nearby, not floating on the far side of the island.

“Did they find the money?” I ask.

“I haven’t heard,” Ciro says. “They’ve already identified her, though. Not formally, of course. One of you will have to go down and give a positive ID. But they know she was here with you.”

“You told them,” I say.

He shrugs. And I can’t help but wonder if he thought it was us as soon as he heard. Perhaps his mother has told him enough over the years. Perhaps he’s always known more than me.

“I mentioned to my friend that she hadn’t been home. That you thought she’d just had a long night out.”

That means the police will be here even sooner than I thought. But then, based on the placement of the article in the paper, my family already knew that.

“The island doesn’t benefit from publicizing these types of events,” Ciro says. “But the police will come today. You should be prepared.”

I suppose I already am. My mother was a dress rehearsal.

“I called earlier and spoke with Freddy, but he said you weren’t home. He said he would text you and tell you to call me.”

I don’t want to explain to Ciro how only hours ago I thought I’d seen Lorna. How I chased her. How I ultimately found her. But I can imagine Freddy, the phone tipped against his cheek, an affableShe’s not here, but I can tell her you calledbeing said into the receiver.

“He never texted,” I say, checking my phone to be sure.

Is Ciro lying to me? Did he talk to Freddy? Was it really a friend who tipped him off? All the physical evidence I’ve seen—the pregnancy test, the necklace, the laptop—is missing. The only thing left is Lorna’s body being hauled from the water, the healing cut on Ciro’s hand.

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