Page 64 of The Bridesmaid
I stare out over the island. The first Kensington Manor School started out here. I’m looking to where the faint outline of the old bell tower can just be seen.
Georgia’s conversation with housekeeping fades into the background. It’s only when she replaces the receiver, I notice the slant of shock on her face.
‘What is it?’ I ask. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Silky’s not in the cabana where I left her. She’s vanished.’ She adjusts the cream strap of her camisole, and pulls at the delicate strands of her gold necklaces. ‘You don’t think she’s gone looking for the old part of the island?’ suggests Georgia, nervously. ‘Where the old school building is?’
‘The Bell Tower?’ Both our eyes swing out toward the hump of jungle, where a gray bell-tower can just be seen through the foliage. I shake my head sharply. ‘Silky has no reason to go there.’
‘You know Simone wanted access to the Bell Tower too?’ says Georgia quietly. ‘That’s what she and Dad arranged. Simone wanted access to film part of the show out there. Dri … why would Simone be scoping for an episode ofWrongly Accusedon Elysium, unless—’
‘No.’ I say it sharply enough to make Georgia blink. ‘None ofmy bridesmaids held me captive. I would have known. And don’t worry about Silky. She always shows up.’ I snatch a look at Georgia, and then away again, out toward the ocean.
Chapter Fifty
HOLLY
In the cool of the cabana, we stare at the open birthday invitation.
‘Canapés, cocktails,’ reads Fitzwilliam.
‘I notice they don’t mention dinner,’ I say ruefully, swiping along the paper slowly with a chemical reagent.
‘There’s an event at midnight,’ Fitzwilliam points out. ‘Midnight feast maybe?’
‘Truth or Dare Firepit at the Old Bell Tower.’ I read. ‘Sounds … ominous. Where’s the Old Bell Tower?’ I ask. ‘I didn’t see it on any maps of the island.’ I look closer. ‘The reagent is reacting with something here,’ I add. ‘It’s faint but …’ I fish a hand lens from my kit and adjust the focus. ‘It’s making the shape of a number. Six …’ I peer through the lens. ‘Six ft under.’ I raise my gaze to Fitzwilliam. ‘Why would Simone write “six feet under”?’
‘Sounds like the kind of thing you said she did on her show, right?’ says Fitzwilliam. ‘Showy forensic reveal that leads to the next location.’
I nod. ‘Highlighting some important clue to show up on camera in a forensic test. Made for good entertainment. Real evidence mixed with stagey effects.’
‘You think Simone wanted to draw attention to this Bell Tower event? Suggest it was … death-related?’
‘Maybe. We can assume the party guests were there at midnight, the night Adrianna was kidnapped. What time did she go missing?’
‘She was last seen at three a.m.,’ says Fitzwilliam. ‘Petra Morka saw Adrianna going up the stairs to her bedroom, but no one noticed she was gone until the following morning.’
‘Wonder where the Bell Tower is,’ I say.
‘The bridesmaids are due to attend a beach barbecue tonight at the bar. You think you might convince one of them to tell you?’
I wrinkle my nose. ‘I can try,’ I say, without much conviction. ‘I think they know I’m not one of them.’
‘You should have more faith in yourself,’ says Fitzwilliam. ‘Simone did. And … maybe don’t hunch your shoulders so much. It makes you look unsure of yourself.’
‘Thanks for the deportment tip.’
Fitzwilliam nods, looking thoughtful. ‘Not all the luggage has been delivered to the cabanas. If you’re all down at the barbecue, I can take a look through for Silky’s sketchbook. Could tell us something more about this Trinity character. Maybe one of the staff can help locate it,’ he adds. ‘If they’re not all busy trying to stop the bridesmaids freaking out about what to wear for tonight’s event.’
I roll my eyes. ‘What’s wrong with these women? They can go two days without eating, but lose their shit over some clothes?’
Fitzwilliam’s face breaks into a wide smile. ‘Well, quite,’ he says. His eyes land on a large bouquet of tropical flowers on the table of my cabana.
‘Here,’ he plucks up a white orchid, and pushes it behind my ear. ‘Softens your hair a little,’ he explains.
I touch the flower uncertainly. His eyes hover over mine for slightly too long. Before I can reply, he clears his throat uncomfortably.
‘You need to get to the barbecue before you’re missed,’ he says. ‘I’ll go hunt for Silky’s sketchbook while you’re eating.’
