Page 67 of The Bridesmaid
‘Wow,’ I say softly, taking it in.
A figure steps from the dark.
On instinct, I lurch backward, nearly falling from the wooden gangplank beneath me. Strong hands grasp at my dress.
‘Holly?’ It’s Fitzwilliam. He pulls me back to safety.
‘Oh my God!’ I put my hand to my heart. ‘You scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry. I just wanted to wait until you got back, so you didn’t walk alone in the dark.’ He hesitates. ‘Holly, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to walk around at night, on an island with a murderer on the loose?’
‘She didn’t tell me much, actually,’ I admit. ‘My mom wasn’t around growing up. She had this whole music scene going on.’
‘Sounds like my dad. Apart from the music.’
He follows my gaze out to sea. ‘Beautiful, right?’ he says. ‘That star-studded effect is phosphorescence. You only see it at certain times of the year. It’s the kind of thing wedding proposals are made of.’
There’s a sudden awkward silence that I swear doesn’t come from me.
‘Did you find anything out?’ he asks hopefully.
I nod slowly. ‘Adrianna agreed to testify at a court case, against Kensington Manor School, on the night of her birthday party.’
‘Really?’ He thinks for a moment. ‘I guess the family don’t own the school any longer. But, still … You think she would have actually done it?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I guess the question is, did someone believe she would?’ I consider. ‘And who would stand to lose if she did?’ We’re both thoughtful. ‘I take it you didn’t get Silky’s sketchbook?’ I suggest.
He shakes his head. ‘There’s some extra luggage waiting to be delivered, but I couldn’t get to it without being seen. I’m going to try and sneak in tomorrow morning. Ortiz is going to get us the fingerprint results back then as well,’ he says.
‘Not much time,’ I murmur, ‘if we need to leave by ten a.m. tomorrow.’ Disappointment sags inside me. And the terrible feeling that time is slipping away. Fitzwilliam clears his throat and thrusts what appears to be a small cardboard box in my direction.
‘I … uh … got you something,’ he adds, completely failing to dissipate the weird mood he’s created.
‘Is it a five-carat diamond ring?’ I suggest.
‘I wouldn’t propose with anything less than six. And no, it’s not.’
The box is warm as I take it. I can smell something chargrilled and delicious. ‘Is itfood?’ I ask hopefully.
‘It’s nothing much. Just chicken and rice,’ he waves it, and hands me a wooden fork. ‘The staff meals are pretty good. Thought you’d appreciate something more than a shaved leaf salad, or whatever they were serving up on the beach.’
‘You’re a life-saver.’ I pop open the lid. ‘There was nothing,’ I tell him. ‘No food,at all.’ I’m about to shovel an overloaded forkful into my mouth, but I catch the look in his eye and restrain myself.
‘You have no idea how hungry I am. These women don’t eat.’ I swallow several smaller bites, savouring the rapidly easing pain in my stomach.
‘Maybe breathe between mouthfuls,’ he suggests, with a slightly strained expression.
‘OK.’ I plop down on the sand. Take a demure mouthful, like I’ve seen Adrianna do.
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
I shrug. ‘Sure.’
‘Why did you quit working for Simone?’
I pause, forkful halfway to my mouth, hunger fighting anxiety. ‘I didn’t like the direction she was taking the show.Wrongfully Accusedis supposed to be about justice, but the moment Leopold Kensington dangled the chance of big ratings, it was like Simone forget all about ethics, and became obsessed with Adrianna. Just like the rest of the world,’ I add, with a small amount of bitterness.
Fitzwilliam regards my expression. ‘Maybe it was personal in some way,’ he says. ‘For Simone.’
