Page 21 of The Weekend Getaway

“What do you smell?”

The sharp smell of damp earth and dead leaves mixedwith the sweetness of blooming flowers and the faint brininess of the sea.

“What do you feel?”

A calm breeze wafted across her face, lifting her hair from her shoulders, dancing along her skin, breaking through the stagnant humidity.

“What do you see?”

Towering palms above her, fronds waving back and forth. Massive ferns flanking the trail, frilled edges glistening. Roots, as thick and winding as snakes, twisted across the path. Delicate orchids and clusters of tiny, brilliantly colored flowers nestled in the undergrowth. Above, the sky was just beginning to lighten, casting a gentle lavender hue over the canopy.

Grace took a deep breath.

Despite the mindful meditation session, she was still antsy. Anxious. She felt chaotic and rabbity. Phil’s threat loomed in her mind. Grace refused to have everything her husband had worked for ruined because of Alex’s stupid mistake. Something had to be done about Phil. But what? Grace didn’t know but Alex’s suggestion that Phil suffer an unfortunate accident was off the table.

And it wouldn’t be an accident.

Alex was proposing murder, and?—

Grace stopped suddenly, her attention arrested by something on the path a few yards away.

A group of buzzards surrounding carrion, a large, dead animal, maybe a feral hog. Her stomach twisting, Grace approached slowly, not sure if she should try to walk aroundthe birds or turn and go back to the house. The buzzards seemed oblivious to her, preoccupied with their carcass, their large, powerful beaks tearing into the flesh of the animal.

Moving steadily closer, Grace frowned, peering at what the buzzards fought to consume.

And she realized, with sickening clarity, that it was not a hog …

CHAPTER 16

CHRIS

Someone was screaming in his face.

Yelling at him. Crying about something.

Chris struggled to open his eyes, telling himself he was dreaming, and to go back to sleep. The screaming and yelling was just a dream. A nightmare, like what his life had become. Probably a manifestation of his worries and fears about the law firm. And Phil. Those notes. Who had sent them? Chris had no idea. Maybe Grace? But why would she do that? Maybe to get back at Alex?

Grace hated Alex.

She’d hated him since that night at Phil’s party, fifteen years ago. The truth was, Grace had never really liked Alex. After Chris had introduced them, Grace had privately expressed her dislike, which had grown exponentially untilthe night of the party, when Alex’s actions had justified Grace’s animosity.

Since that time, Grace had warned Chris to be wary of Alex. “You’re going to end up in prison or dead hanging around him,” she’d once told him. Chris thought she was being dramatic. Sure, Alex could be self-centered, manipulative, and cruel, but Chris couldn’t fault him. Refused to fault him. Alex had taken Chris under his wing when he’d been branded an outcast at WBU and couldn’t buy a friend even if he had the money to afford one which he didn’t. Chris would never forget that Alex had befriended him, at the peril of his own fragile social connections at the school.

Beyond that, Alex was the kind of guy Chris wanted to be, but never would.

Because of that, Chris would remain loyal.

Even if it meant?—

“Chris! Wake up!”

Something clamped down on his shoulders, compelling him to twist away as his eyes fluttered, then shut again. He was so damn tired. He just needed a few more minutes of rest, and then he would get up and?—

Something slammed against his cheek, hard and harsh, forcing him awake.

Scrambling to a sitting position, confused, his face stinging, Chris blinked, staring at Grace who glared at him, her face twisted with anguish and fear, eyes wide and red, filled with tears.

“What is it?” Chris whispered, his heart slamming.

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