Page 108 of Sunburned

I pulled up my news feed to see that word of Tyson’s death had spawned a cornucopia of articles about him, spanning the gamut from his professional achievements to his tumultuous personal life, but thankfully, no one had yet gotten hold of the information that he had not three but five children. I knew I needed to break the news to Benji and Alex before they learned it from someone else, but I wasn’t about to make that phone call in front of everyone.

As I composed a text to Rosa telling her not to let the boys watch the news, my phone began to ring, and her name flashed on the screen. I considered. The engine was loud, but Cody and Allison were both talking on their phones. I should at least let her know I was okay. “Rosa,” I answered.

“Oh my God Audrey, what the hell?” she cried.

“I can’t really talk right now, I’m on a boat and it’s loud.”

“I can hear that. I read it was a dive accident? What happened?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” I said. “But yeah. I’m not gonna be able to come back immediately. Are you okay keeping the boys a few more days?”

“Of course. Don’t even worry about it.”

“You’re an angel, thank you,” I said. “Tell the boys I love them and I’ll be home soon. I’m just a little sunburned.”

“Got it,” she said, receiving our code word. “Stay safe.”

“Oh, and Rosa,” I said, catching her before she hung up. “Please don’t let them watch the news.”

Once we’d hung up, I pocketed my phone, looking out the window to see the green trees give way to red rooftops, the buildings getting closer together as we neared Gustavia. I rubbed my sweating palms on my jeans, scanning the faces of the others on the boat, who all looked just as anxious as I felt.

I knew Laurent would vouch for me, and I felt relatively certain Rémy would as well. Samira and Gisèle might, though I doubtedthey’d stick their necks out for me if it might compromise their own defense in any way.

The captain cut the engine and the water slapped the side of the boat as we cruised into the harbor. Jennifer rose from the bench to peer out the window behind me at the row of docked yachts, but the boat rocked, sending her stumbling backward. As she reached up and caught a grab handle, her shirt lifted, and a jolt of recognition went through me.

On the left side of her torso was a long, jagged scar.

Chapter 42

The waiting room of the police building was windowless, outfitted with large-format tile floors and thinly padded upholstered chairs. Shivering in the blasting air conditioning, I desperately searched for anything about Andie’s demise on my phone while the police prepared the interview rooms. But I couldn’t even remember her last name, much less the when or where of the car crash that had supposedly taken her life.

Though it wasn’t exactly a crash, was it? The car had gone off a bridge, Tyson had said.

Which meant that just because she was assumed dead didn’t mean she was. Perhaps her body hadn’t been recovered. Perhaps there was no body. Perhaps she’d used the accident—if it even was an accident—to disappear and start a new life. How, I wasn’t sure. But it was possible, and she’d surely made some shady contacts through Ian’s drug dealing business.

My memory of Andie’s face was hazy after all these years, but there was a possibility I had an image of her stored in the depths of my iCloud.

Grateful for the free Wi-Fi in the station, I pulled up my account and scrolled back to the summer I was twenty-one. There I was with Rosa, our faces fuller, eyes brighter. There was my mom, her favorite turquoise scarf tied around her head. And so many pictures of Tyson, tan and fit, his arms around me. As I flipped through the Fourth of July pictures, I spotted Ian in the background, smoking a joint.

And there she was. Andie, approaching him, looking just past camera.

Electricity crackled inside me as I zoomed in, studying the structure of her face. She was pale, dark-haired, and waiflike, with bangs that fell into her eyes, whereas Jennifer was tan and blond and curvy, and her nose and cheeks had certainly been altered, but the resemblance was unmistakable, confirming my hunch.

Holy shit. Jennifer was Andie.

Officer Gauthier appeared with a small plastic bin. “We will need your phones until you have been interviewed.”

I locked my phone and obediently deposited it in the bin, my head spinning as Gauthier informed us that they’d be doing individual interviews in two rooms. We were not to speak to one another while we waited, nor were we allowed to return to the waiting room once we’d been questioned.

A small television mounted next to the security camera in the corner played a series of French soccer games as the group slowly dwindled over three long hours, until only Laurent, Rémy, Gisèle, and I were still waiting beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights.

“What is your plan when you leave here?” Laurent asked me, his voice low, mouth barely moving in deference to the security camera.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. I was desperate to tell him my suspicion about Jennifer, but we hadn’t had a moment alone since this morning.

“You can stay with me if you like.”

I couldn’t deny the rush of affection I felt for him as I accepted his offer. “That would be great, thank you.” I dropped an elbow to myknee and my head to my hand, so that the security camera wouldn’t record my mouth moving. “Are you guys going back to the house?” I asked Gisèle.

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