Page 35 of The Weekend Getaway

“You can’t possibly believe that Grace was serious,” Mia told Jason.

“She seemed pretty serious to me.”

“But she wasn’t,” Chris said, shaking his head, his expression contrite. “Mia, I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into her, or why she said that?—”

“Maybe she said it because she saw it,” Jason said.

Mia scoffed. “Vultures eating Alex’s head?”

Jason sighed, rubbed his eyes. “Vultures eating … something.”

“But not … Alex,” Chris said. “Something else. Something that scared her.”

“Or someone else,” Jason said.

Mia looked away from his pointed gaze and tapped the last egg against the rim of the bowl.

“Someone else?” Chris asked. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe it wasn’t Alex,” Jason said. “Maybe she saw someone else’s … head.”

“Whose head could she have seen?” Chris asked.

Mia’s hands shook as she separated the broken shell, allowing the yolk and egg whites to fall into the bowl.

“I have no idea,” Jason said. “Maybe we should go and have a look.”

“But I already looked,” Chris said. “Grace took me to where she thought she saw … Alex … and there was nothing there.”

Jason rubbed the fine stubble on his chin. “Maybe the vultures dragged it into the forest.”

“Are you serious?” Mia glared at Jason. “Do you hear yourself? You sound as crazy as Grace!”

“But what if Grace did see something?” Jason asked. “She was adamant. And she’s not the type to imagine weird shit.”

Chris shook his head. “Alex can’t be dead.”

Mia let out a frustrated exhale. “Alex isn’t dead! I told you, he took Phil to the mainland.”

Jason said, “I’m not disputing that. I’m saying that Grace was … too sure … about what she saw. And I don’t mean Alex, but … maybe someone was killed on this island. And decapitated.”

“What do you mean?” Chris asked.

“This is a large island,” Jason said. “Maybe we’re not the only ones here.”

“Alex rented this island for the seven of us,” Mia said. “There’s not supposed to be anyone else here.”

“But it’s an island in the Caribbean,” Jason said, pinchingthe bridge of his nose. “Anyone with a boat could drop an anchor on the opposite side and we wouldn’t even know it.”

Chris looked thoughtful. “That is possible.”

Mia shook her head. “Seriously? You too?”

“I’ve read about drug dealers using these uninhabited islands for drug drops,” Chris said.

“This island isn’t uninhabited,” Mia said, feeling as though she was losing control of the situation, as though maybe she never had control and had only been fooling herself. “It’s owned by some Middle Eastern prince or something who uses it as income property. Alex told me the guy has never even set foot on the island. Never even seen it. This island is just a line item in his vast real estate portfolio.”

“I get that,” Chris said, his expression apprehensive. “But … what if the drug dealers don’t know that this island belongs to a Saudi prince? What if?—”

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