Page 25 of Sunburned

The four of us who remained at the table didn’t speak again of Tyson once he had left the room, but words weren’t necessary to convey the feelings written on their faces.

Tyson might be paranoid, but he was right about one thing: Everyone in this house hated him.

Chapter 7

After dinner, I collapsed on the cloudlike bed in my room and opened my phone to find an invitation from a security app with a text from Tyson that the username was my middle name, the password my birthday. Shocked that he remembered either of those details, I logged in and navigated to the cameras, watching from the comfort of my bed as Jennifer got up from the table and retired to her room.

The audio was just as crystal-clear as the video, and I could hear every word Allison and Cody uttered as they groused over glasses of whisky about the problems they were having with the De-Sal center in Monterey, California.

A text from Rosa pinged my screen, replying to the rant I’d sent her about Tyson earlier. The boys were in bed, and she was dying to hear the details of the mysterious job he’d paid us a hundred thousand and flown me down here for. My thumbs hovered above the keyboard for a moment before I typed:

All good here. Worried I may have gotten a little sunburned though.

“Sunburn” was the code word we used to let the other know we were being monitored and couldn’t talk. It was partially true at least, I couldn’t talk. I could’ve texted, if I wanted to. There was no way my phone was being monitored; I’d had it with me since I arrived. Rosa wouldn’t question my message, though. She trusted me.

Which made me feel that much worse about lying to her. But it was for her own good, I reasoned.

I turned off my bedside light and returned my attention to the security cameras, following as Cody and Allison moved from the dining table to the fire pit on the deck just off my room, where they lit cigars. The audio wasn’t any good with the noise of the waterfall from the spa muddying the sound, and it struck me that even if Tyson was watching the cameras, he wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation over it.

Fortunately, the slatted window to one side of my sliding glass door was open to the night air, and their voices floated toward me on the breeze, clearly audible if I lay still enough.

“I’ve given him multiple options,” came Allison’s voice a fraction of a second before her mouth moved on the screen of my phone. “If he doesn’t want to dilute his shares by bringing on an investor, he won’t have to. I’ll sell some of mine.”

“Rick Halpern would be a good fit,” Cody agreed.

“The king of green energy,” Allison emphasized. “He’s perfect.”

I googled the name as Cody replied, “I think Tyson’s worried about the due diligence.”

I scanned Rick Halpern’s bio, copying and pasting the pertinent bits into my notes app. A reclusive billionaire who had made his money in wind and solar farms, he was indeed the king of green energy.

“I don’t think one report will be a deterrent for Halpern,” Allison said, “but it should slow things down enough that Tyson would be open to his investment.”

“If anything holds up the installation here, he won’t have much choice,” Cody said, giving Allison a meaningful glance.

Allison’s phone dinged and she glanced at it. “I’ve gotta head out.”

“Where are you meeting?”

“Le Ti.”

I could see Cody nod, muttering something I couldn’t make out as Allison rose, putting a hand on his shoulder. “See you in the morning.”

“Keep your head down,” Cody cautioned.

Allison exited, leaving Cody staring into the fire, and I sat up in bed, adrenaline suddenly pulsing through my veins. I wasn’t sure what Allison was up to, but it was something clandestine, something for which she’d need to keep her head down.

I grabbed my purse and dug through my wallet, pulling out Laurent’s card. Laurent who had secrets. I spun it between my fingers, considering. Tyson trusted him, had said I could trust him. Which meant I couldn’t trust him at all, of course. But he would almost certainly help me with what I needed.

Before I could second-guess myself, I keyed in his number and tapped out a message to him.

I had to wait only ten seconds for the three little dots to appear.

Eleven Years Ago, June

It all happened quickly: A week after Cody approved my SADEP, I had the money to pay for my mom’s first treatment, and a week after that, we were in a hospital in Naples and she was receiving infusions.

She’d asked where the money had come from—of course she had—and I’d told her it had come from Dad, which was the same thing I’d told Rosa and anyone else who asked. I’d also fabricated a story about his not wanting Mom to know, so that she wouldn’t try to reach out to thank him.

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