Page 80 of Sunburned

But turning off someone else’s oxygen wouldn’t be easy either. If you did it from in front of them, they could fight you off, grab your emergency oxygen and breathe off that.

“You can mount the tank from behind,” Laurent said. “Dive masters learn to do that to contain people who freak out.”

“So you think someone lured him into the cave using the cloudy water as cover, then mounted his tank and turned off his oxygen?”

“Yes.” His eyes were haunted.

I thought of the clang I’d heard somewhere in the murk. “Was his tank-banger still attached?”

He shook his head. “We found it on some coral nearby.”

A chill went up my spine as the grim realization settled over me. “One of us….”

“It might not have been one of us,” he said quickly.

“You’re thinking of the developers.”

He nodded. “The police will check to see if there were other divers in the area as well.”

I bit my lip, thinking. “I mean, muddying the water to fuck up our dive is one thing, but murder? What good would it do them? The site will go forward anyway.”

“It does seem unlikely.”

“Do you know them?”

“Not so much. They are not locals.” He paused, studying his hands as if considering saying something. But he must have thought better of it, because he shook his head.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you can tell me,” I prompted.

A muscle in his jaw feathered. “It’s not important.”

“Anything could be important.”

But again, he shook his head, tight-lipped.

I knew I’d have a better chance of getting whatever it was out of him later if I didn’t push now. “Did you tell Tyson about seeing Allison with the guys from the city council at Le Ti?” I asked instead.

“No—you told me not to.”

I evaluated him. “And you were more loyal to me, who you’d known less than twenty-four hours, than to Tyson?”

“What can I say?” The corner of his mouth twitched up as his gaze found mine. “I like you better.”

“It’s a low bar.” I swallowed, looking away. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through today.”

“When we stopped for the safety check, we all had to hold him down so that he wouldn’t float away,” he said quietly. “His eyes were open, and it felt like he was looking at me.” He shuddered, trying to dislodge the image.

“I’m so sorry, Laurent,” I said, just as a knock came at the door. “Who is it?” I called out.

“Gisèle. Can I come in?” she asked, pushing the door open.

“By all means,” I returned wryly, gesturing for her to enter.

She shut the door behind her and took us in, her dark eyes troubled. “I need to talk to you,” she said, crossing her arms over her Guns N’ Roses T-shirt. “Both of you.”

I gestured for her to go on.

“You were in the alley last night when Samira and I came out of the club after she fought with Tyson.”

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