Sarah asked, “What did Alex say to Phil?
Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet beneath the island, Mia said, “I don’t know any details. Their conversation was private.”
Jason scowled at Mia. “You didn’t ask?”
“Alex didn’t want to get into it,” Mia said, opening the bottle of vodka. “And I respected his decision. But he assured me that he and Phil made amends, and Phil was no longer upset with any of us.”
Jason scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Mia pursed her lips as she poured tomato juice into aglass. “Anyway, Phil was called away on business early this morning, so Alex took him to the mainland in the speedboat.”
“You expect us to believe that?” Jason asked.
Adding a generous amount of vodka to the tomato juice, Mia glared at Jason. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Sarah said, “Because it sounds even more ridiculous than Grace’s claim that vultures ate Alex’s face.”
“I know what I saw … “
Exhaling, Mia said, “Listen, I know it seems unbelievable, considering how angry Phil was, and how serious his threat sounded, but Alex took care of the situation. You know he always does. He’s an excellent negotiator.”
“More like an excellent manipulator,” said Sarah, voice lowered.
Mia still heard the insult, but she ignored it.
Jason said, “I’m sorry but none of what you’re saying makes any sense. Before we left the library, Alex was floating the idea of Phil having an unfortunate accident. And then, all of a sudden, they talk it out and everything is great. No hard feelings. Then Phil needs to leave so Alex takes him to the mainland.”
Chris said, “It does seem kind of …”
“Kind of what, Chris?” Mia took a sip of her drink, determined to keep up the ruse, despite their doubts. Alex had given her the story to tell, and she would sell it as best she could. Didn’t matter if they didn’t buy it, Mia was sticking to it.
“Unbelievable,” Sarah said, a challenge in her gaze.
Mia took another sip of the Bloody Mary, then set the glasson the island. “I get the skepticism. Believe me, I do. But the only thing I can tell you is that when Alex returns, he’ll explain everything.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Grace said, her voice defeated, her hysteria fading. “Alex is dead. He’s not coming back.”
CHAPTER 28
CHRIS
Staring at Grace, Chris cringed inwardly.
She was quiet, but she looked insane. Like she was losing it. Pacing in front of the stove, arms crossed tight across her chest, lost in her own strange, chaotic world. Her face, thin and hollow due to the weight loss, was sallow and pale.
Chris didn’t like the effects of the weight loss. He would never admit that to Grace. In fact, he’d championed her efforts to lose the pounds, telling her she looked great as she slimmed down. But as the numbers on the scale dropped, so did Grace’s attractiveness and appeal. The truth was, Grace needed the weight. The plumpness gave her a vigor and vitality that she missed now. Some girls were prettier when they were fatter, he’d always thought. When they were at college, Chris had sought Grace out because she wasn’t stickthin, with skeletal features, like a recovering crack addict. Far from repulsed, he found the fat comforting.
Chris had never demanded that Grace lose weight, or even keep her weight down.
She’d calmed down somewhat and was no longer shouting gloom and doom, like some homeless bum on a street corner screaming about aliens or the end of the world. And Alex being dead would be the end of the world. But it couldn’t possibly be true.
Chris wasn’t sure what his wife had seen out there on that path in the jungle, but it wasn’t Alex’s decapitated head being devoured by vultures. That was too ridiculous to be true. Too horrific to be real. Because it didn’t make sense. How could Alex be dead? Who would have killed him, so violently and savagely? Who out of all of them would have the stomach to kill him and cut his head off? Chris shuddered, secretly glancing around the kitchen, his gaze flitting from Jason to Mia to Sarah, and finally to Grace. None of them had the guts to do something so vile. The thought of it made Chris want to hurl.
Chris was worried and embarrassed about Grace’s behavior.
Grace wasn’t the hysterical type. She was pragmatic and sly, a subtle strategist who had mastered the art of machination. She wasn’t really persuasive, but she knew how to manipulate events and situations so that she could achieve the desired outcome.
Exhaling, Chris walked over to Grace. “Honey … how about you go upstairs and lie down?”