Page 80 of Beach Bodies

‘No way,’ says Daniel, his eyes suddenly fierce. My hardheaded Daniel not-Black.

Maybe I’m off the hook for now, in his mind, as a suspect. But he’s not going to let this go, is he? I guess Daniel and I have that in common too– stubbornly hanging on.

He’s hanging on to his story, and I’m hanging on to my plan.

I am going to kill Serena tonight.

A girl is hospitalized because of her– a sweet, insecure girl who Serena merrily sent towards destruction.

I’ll do it at Island Vibes, during the chaos of Randy’s retirement party. I’ll convince her to come; I know I can do it. She’s already debating it, I just have to push her over the edge– metaphorically speaking, this time. I can sell it as a TikTok opportunity. Positive media that she’ll surely want after today’s disaster– positive media that Vic demanded she come up with. Plus, half-priced drinks!

The location is actually ideal: it gets her away from the Riovan. Now that I think about it, maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I didn’t kill her this morning on the jetty. Not only will this break the pattern of the past four years of deaths, but it will dilute suspicion, because Sean and Vic, Daniel’s other suspects, will both be there.

I don’t feel bad about this. Vic deserves it, and Sean will be just fine.

With my hand still caressing Daniel’s cheek, feeling that delicious wolfish stubble that I love and trying to memorize how it feels against my palm, I say, ‘Let’s not force things.’

What do you mean?his eyes ask me.

I tilt my head. ‘Let’s just let this be what it was.’

Now I can see the pain in Daniel’s face– tattooed in the creases of his forehead, written in his eyes. It’s almost unbearable to look at.

His eyes say,So this was just a fling to you.

I try to send back,Just a fling.One final lie.

‘Let me take you to dinner,’ he pleads in that husky, podcast-perfect voice of his.

I shake my head, but allow my hand to run up through his hair.

‘Don’t worry, Daniel,’ I say softly. ‘You’ll forget me soon enough.’

Or at least, that’s the hope.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Dusk finds me in the back seat of a Jeep with Kenton at the wheel and a girl named Kim from concierge services next to him. I’m smashed between Brianna the massage tech and a lifeguard named Sergio, who’s already pre-gaming pretty hard with a vodka-filled water bottle.

When I biked through the rainforest to get to Brisebleue a few days ago, I remember the birdsong, the saturated smell of life and the deep silence. Tonight, all of that is drowned out by the smell of exhaust and the roar of six engines, because it’s not just us, it’s a whole caravan of Jeeps. To everyone’s surprise, Vic authorized the use of Riovan-branded vehicles to help transport the staff across the island for Randy’s retirement party.

‘We could use some team-building after our two big scares,’ he said during the ‘team huddle’ he called before dinner, meaning of course Herb and Skylar. Skylar, he reported, was severely dehydrated, but was stable and expected to be discharged the next day. ‘People forget how hot the sun is here! You have to drink extra water.’

Which meant Vic hadn’t taken my rant about Serena’s involvement seriously at all– either that, or he was covering for his staff, his hotel, just like he did with Michael Johnson’s death. Nothing worse in Vic’s mind than liability and negative publicity. I can’t say I’m surprised.

‘What a relief!’ crowed Serena.

It was easy for me to sidle up to her when the huddle was over and whisper, ‘We should celebrate tonight, right? Blow off some steam?’

‘Oh my god, fine, I’ll come,’ she said, and then poked me playfully. ‘But you’re buying me a drink!’

A small price to pay. A drink for a life.

I couldn’t help but say one more thing to Serena. ‘Those powders you gave Skylar in the bathroom. The CleanSlim—’

‘It’s perfectly safe!’ she snapped back, but the red flood in her cheeks gave her away. She knew she was guilty.

‘Does anyone know Randy?’ Sergio is saying between gulps of ‘water’. ‘Like, is he anyone’s friend or just some rando?’

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