Page 94 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

We backtracked until we hit the three-way fork, then headed north to the Sky Bar.

The path was mostly straight and flat. The ground lighting came on as we walked, and I noticed signs of construction—a clearing to the left, a large toolbox with a lock on it, and some orange netting to block off part of the area. A huge pile of branches and leaves was pushed to one side, weighed down by tarps.

“What are they doing up here?” I asked.

Brie shrugged. “My dad said something about building a cell tower. There’s a couple other private islands in the area, and I guess they don’t have good internet. St. Claire is in the middle and has the highest peak, so a cell tower would make sense. And give St. Claire better reception.”

“I haven’t had a problem with reception at the resort.” But I remembered I’d had none when I shot my video review at the Sky Bar the other night.

“It’s glitchy,” Brie said, “but usually the rooms are fine. Anywhere else and it’s hit or miss. Wow, look at the sunset.”

Because of the clearing, we could see the ocean from the path. “It’s sad that they’re going to put a tower here,” Brie said. “It’ll totally ruin the view.”

We watched as the sun brightened the western sky.

“Hey, want to take a selfie?” Brie said. She pulled out her phone and motioned for me to turn around.

I wasn’t great at taking selfies, but Brie knew what she was doing, so we had fun with it. She took several photos and grinned. “See, youcanlighten up.”

“Can you take one of me so I can send it to my friends? And my Grams. She called me today and wants me to post more on social media.”

Brie laughed. “My grandma doesn’t even know how to use her smartphone.”

“I taught Grams, and sometimes I think she knows how to use hers better than I do.”

Brie took a few pictures. Then she said, “Okay, loosen up, relax. This isn’t your senior portrait.”

I rolled my eyes, and Brie laughed. “Oh, oh! Make a circlewith your arms. The sun is at the perfect angle! Okay—okay—take a step back. One more—got it! You’re slaying it. Now squat and put your hand up like you’re blowing a kiss, but face south. Yeah—lower your hand just a bit—great!”

“Are you studying photography in college?” I asked.

“Naw. Pre-med. Photography is a hobby.”

“Pre-med?” I said. I don’t know why that surprised me.

“Yeah. I want to cure cancer.”

“That’s really awesome.”

Brie shrugged. “Somebody has to do it. Why not me?”

I stood, but my foot slipped. Then the rest of my body followed my foot, and I screamed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“We all do things we regret. It’s part of growing up.”

—Sue Grafton,F Is for Fugitive

I landed with a thud on a bed of damp leaves, which thankfully cushioned my fall but covered me in mud.

I looked up and at first couldn’t see anything. Then the sky came into focus, a darkening blue as the sun was quickly disappearing.

The wind had been knocked out of me. I tried to call up to Brie, but no sound came out, just a strangled gasp. My ears rang as I took stock of potential injuries. My arms moved without pain. Good. Legs? Check. Neck? I moved it slowly back and forth. A little twinge, but nothing serious. I stretched, feeling my ribs, but there was no major pain indicating a cracked or broken rib.

“Mia? Mia!”

“I’m okay,” I said, the words a whisper. I coughed, cleared my throat, and shouted up, “Brie? I’m okay!”

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