Page 96 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

My name was going to be on the fuckingdoor.

Tears burned, and I felt totally, one hundred percent sorry for myself.

I didn’t want to be on the door. I would have no life. But if I didn’t take the promotion, who was I?

Not knowing the future was far scarier than staying on the path I’d forged. It was safer to do what I’d always planned.

It felt like an hour since I’d fallen down here, literally hitting rock bottom, but when I looked at my phone, only fifteen minutes had passed since Brie left to get help. It was a good twenty-minute walk down the mountain, longer in the dark. So I shined the light around the hole and tried not to be squeamish. I pushed a bunch of fallen leaves into the corner and sat on them. The leaves and I slowly sank into the mud.

When I got out of here, I would tell security about Diana’s book, that Amber stole it from my room, and what I thought Diana Harden had been doing. I’d show them the pages Brie photographed and tell them about the kid who brought Diana back to the island. Then I was done with playing Nancy Drew.

I had five more days on this island. Tomorrow morning I was going to forget all about Diana Harden and blackmail and Amber and cheating Trevor Lance. I was going to swim, drink, eat, and have sex with Jason Mallory. Maybe a five-night fling. I wanted to have sex on the beach, in the ocean, and in my hot tub. I wanted to get drunk and have fun and not think about Diana Harden.

Then I would return to the real world, accept my promotion, and forget all about St. Claire.

“Mia! Mia!”

It had taken Brie forty-two minutes to get down to the resort and return with help.

“Still here,” I called from the pit.

The ground lighting on the trail above me cast odd shadows all around. Then the lights grew brighter, and someone shined a spotlight down into the hole. I shielded my eyes.

I heard Brie talking, but not what she said. Then several people came to the edge. “Hold tight, Ms. Crawford.”

I couldn’t see the face, but it sounded like Henry, the jack-of-all-trades from shuttle driver to bellhop to tour guide.

“Not much else I can do,” I mumbled, then said clearly, “Thank you.”

“We’re going to lower a ladder down. Are you injured? Do you need help climbing up?”

“I’m okay. Just dirty.” And cold and hungry, but I didn’t say that.

A minute later, two men lowered a ladder and held it against the side of the hole. “Okay,” Henry called. “I can come down and help.”

“I’m fine,” I said, and started up the ladder. Sore and bruised, but nothing was broken.

When I reached the top, two men I didn’t recognize held out their hands and helped me climb out.

Tristan rushed over and said, “There was security netting blocking off this entire area! What happened?”

“It wasn’t here,” I said. I glanced at Brie. What exactly had she told them? “The netting ended over there.” I gestured. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see the hole. We were taking pictures, and—”

Why was I apologizing? It wasn’t my fault. Sure, I was clumsy and didn’t look where I stepped, but the netting ended twenty feet away.

“I amsoglad you were not more seriously hurt.”

Brie said, “We were on a hike, and it was getting dark, and I’ve been on this trail a hundred times, so I said let’s cut through here and go back by way of the Sky Bar road.”

“The resort is putting in a cell tower. It was supposed to be done before now, but we’ve had a few... well, you don’t care about that. On behalf of St. Claire, I amsosorry.”

That’s when I saw Gino Garmon.

“Why were you up here in the first place?” Gino asked. “You were scheduled to be on the sunset cruise.”

I was taken aback by his gruff tone.

“Um, I changed my mind,” I said lamely.

---