Page 11 of The Weekend Getaway

“What about the note he showed us?” Jason asked.

Alex frowned. “What about it?”

“I wonder who sent it,” Grace said.

“He thinks it was one of us,” Jason said, glancing around the room.

Mia followed his gaze, flitting from Chris to Grace to Alex to Sarah and finally to her. Had Jason hesitated when he looked at her? Had she seen something in his gaze, suspicion maybe, suggesting he might think she was behind the messages?

“Wasn’t me,” Chris said, his voice resolute, as though he was trying to put any doubts about him to rest quickly. Mia didn’t doubt him. Chris lacked fortitude and cunning. Sending Phil those notes would mean going against Alex’s wishes. Chris didn’t have the balls to do that.

“Me, either,” said Grace, plopping down onto the other cane chair, hoisting a leg over the side.

“What about what the note said?” Sarah continued to pace.

Alex stared at her. “What about it?”

Sarah faced him. “What do you think it means?”

“Who cares?” Alex said. “The note doesn’t matter.”

“How can you think it doesn’t matter?” Sarah demanded.

Jason said, “What matters is which one of us sent the note and why.”

“What do you mean, which one of us?” Chris asked, a hintof injury in his tone. “None of us sent that note. Why would we?”

“It has to be one of us,” Jason said, jumping up from the divan. “We’re the only ones who know what happened that night.”

“Unless we’re not,” Sarah said, resuming her pacing.

“Whether we are or whether we’re not doesn’t matter,” Alex said. “We’re the ones Phil threatened. The ones he’s going to ruin.”

Mia took a deep breath. “I don’t think he meant that. He was drunk. Exaggerating.”

“That was no exaggeration,” Alex said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He knows the truth.”

Grace sat up. “You think Phil knows?—“

“He’s pissed that we made a fool of his father,” Alex said. “We took advantage of what happened that night and benefited from it. And, so, he’s angry. He wants to get back at us.”

“He’s probably been waiting all this time to get revenge,” Jason said.

Chris said, “Well, it’s a dish best served cold.”

Mia shook her head. “But why would he want to get revenge on us?”

Alex scowled at her. “We tricked his father.”

“We helped Phil,” Mia disputed.

“We made sure his sick, twisted ass didn’t go to jail,” Grace points out. “Why shouldn’t we have benefited from all those lies we told.”

As Mia sighed, she caught a look between Alex, Chris, andJason, something strange, sinister. Alex exerting control, dominance … but over what?

With one look, Alex could convey a multitude of commands, when he wanted his will carried out, when he wanted you to submit, to do what he wanted, without question. Jason’s defeated expression and Chris’s dutiful acceptance, told Mia they were falling back, standing down, letting Alex take the lead.

Was there some secret collusion between the men? Something other than the original malfeasance which had brought them to the island? Mia knew about Alex’s plan to blackmail Phil, the same way he’d extorted Mr. Richart, Phil’s father, fifteen years ago. He’d revealed the plan to her when she balked at his request to invite Sarah on a trip where Phil would be present. She knew the necessity of the plan and didn’t mind it. Alex needed money; Phil had unlimited access to it. Of course, blackmail was unsavory, nasty work, wicked business, but Alex wouldn’t be able to blackmail Phil if Phil hadn’t assaulted Sarah.

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