Page 45 of Sunburned

“But they didn’t before today?”

He shook his head, and it dawned on me what a colossal mistake Cody and Allison had made in leaking that report without knowing the full story. They’d believed it was a one-off. That it would slow down development in St. Barth’s, pushing back the potential contract with France just long enough that Tyson would consider bringing on the investor that would allow Allison to pay off her debt to the bank. They had no idea that whatever company Tyson had hired was a sham, working under his thumb, and every De-Sal center in the world would be affected.

Instead of slowing down the construction of a single center, they’d potentially brought the entire company to its knees.

“What does this have to do with my blackmailer?” Tyson demanded.

“You think the blackmail comes from your inner circle, you have to consider motive,” I pointed out. “Which means you have to consider all angles. So yes, the unilateral decision you made that could tank your entire company has to be considered.”

“It’ll be fine,” he growled. “I’ll figure it out. Like I always do.”

There was a hint of fatigue in his voice, and for a fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of the man inside the monster he’d become, before his mask slid back into place and he tilted his head, his dark eyespenetrating. “I always win. By whatever means necessary. Don’t forget that.”

Shit, you couldn’t write this stuff. It was like he’d taken lessons in vice from a comic book villain. If it weren’t so real, it would be laughable.

“We’re on the same side,” I reminded him.

He didn’t reply, gesturing to the door as he rose. “I won’t be at dinner tonight, but you should go. They’ll talk more if I’m not there.”

But I wasn’t going to be dismissed so easily. The shock of his accusation yesterday had worn off, and I’d had time to strategize. “You claimed yesterday that you have evidence I created the SADEP,” I said calmly. “Show me.”

He didn’t move.

“Show me, or I’m going home, and you can figure this shit out on your own,” I said, crossing my arms.

His swiped his laptop from where it rested on the counter, clenching his jaw and dropping back into the chair he’d vacated. My heart rate sped up as his fingers flew over the keys. I’d been hoping he was bluffing, but apparently that was not the case.

Finally, he spun the computer toward me and hit Play on the video that filled the screen. I saw a blur of motion as a camera whipped from the computer monitor in Tyson’s dad’s office to me in my bikini, a strand of red, white, and blue plastic beads around my neck.

The video Ian had shot on the Fourth of July, nearly eleven years ago.

Onscreen, I stared at Ian in shock, asking him what he was doing. I watched horror spread over my face as he told me from behind the camera that he was admiring my work and demanded we cut him in. I saw me pull out my phone and text Cody and Tyson to come upstairs, watched as I pleaded with Ian, telling him the money was for my mom’s cancer treatments, until Cody and Tyson burst into the room and the phone blurred again before the image cut.

I gaped at Tyson, processing what I’d just seen. “How’d you get this?”

He just scowled at me.

“Where’s the rest of it?” I asked.

“I think this is plenty to prove your guilt.” He snapped the laptop closed. “I need to get to the gym. Let me know what you find out tonight.”

Chapter 13

I was still reviewing the video in my mind as I changed into my swimsuit in my room. I’d imagined its contents so many times over the years, but I’d had it all wrong. I’d thought it ended where it began. Had Ian accidentally pressed Stop instead of Record and vice versa? Or had he been bluffing about filming when I walked in all along?

Maybe there was more to the video, and Tyson was only showing me the part that implicated me. Because I was certain that clip was not what had gotten Cody arrested. If that was what Ian had shown the cops, I would have gone to jail with—or in place of—Cody.

Fortunately, arrest and police reports were in the public domain in Florida. I powered up my phone and typed out a message to Rosa:

You have time to go down to the Central Records Bureau today?

She gave my message a thumbs-up immediately, adding:

What do you need?

Cody’s arrest record.

She wanted to talk, but I didn’t trust Tyson not to have listening devices throughout his home, so I typed out a message urging her not to get sunburned and promised to fill her in later.

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