Page 72 of Sunburned
The sound of yelling drew our attention to the pool area, where I saw Cody berating a crew guy, his fists clenched, face red. I’d never seen him so angry. “Do something!” he was yelling. “That’s my brother down there!”
Jennifer scurried across the deck toward Cody, placing a calming hand on his back as she approached. He shrugged her off, wildly gesticulating at the poor crew member before storming into the main living room with Jennifer trailing behind, apologizing to the guy as she followed Cody toward their cabin.
I turned back to the sea, scanning the surface of the water for any movement, but all was calm.
A gull swept down from the sky and scooped a wriggling fish from the sea, its silvery scales glinting in the bright sun as it struggled against its fate. Across the water near the back of the Search and Rescue boat, a head emerged from the water. And then another.
Eleven Years Ago, August
The skies opened just as I shouldered my purse to leave Rosa’s apartment.
“Damn it,” I said, peering out the window at the pouring rain.
“Do you have to go?” Rosa asked.
“I wish I didn’t.”
But I needed to take advantage of the time I had while Rosa’s mom was with mine tonight.
It had been two weeks since Cody’s arrest. He was out on bail, his ankle bracelet confining him to his and Tyson’s parents’ house, but I had yet to see him because their parents had returned to oversee preparation for his trial and had been watching over their sons like hawks. They’d spoken to their offspring so little during the summer that they didn’t even know Tyson and I had been dating again—much less that we had broken up again—and we thought it was better if I stayed out of the picture completely.
Tonight, though, Mr. and Mrs. Dale had gone to a charity ball in Miami, so Tyson and Cody had invited me over to catch me up on everything and make sure we were all on the same page before Tysonreturned to school in Boston next week. Of course I couldn’t tell Rosa any of this.
“You better not be seeing Tyson again,” she said.
I shook my head. “I just have errands to run.”
“At night?”
Thunder cracked overhead. “It’s only eight.”
“Okay,” she said, pulling me in for a tight hug.
I drove to Tyson’s parents’ at a snail’s pace with the windshield wipers on high, but still it was hard to see through the sheets of water that poured from the sky. Which was probably why I didn’t spot Ian’s black pickup truck until I was parking next to it in front of the house. I groaned, staring at it while the rain pounded the roof of my car, considering whether to leave. I wanted to see Ian even less than I wanted to see Tyson, but I needed to talk to Cody, so it looked like I was going to be seeing all of them.
I cut the engine, again hugging my purse to my body as I dashed up the steps to the front door and pressed the doorbell. I could hear it ringing throughout the house as I waited under the narrow overhang that did little to protect me from the wind and rain. It wasn’t long before Tyson jerked the door open a crack, poking his head out and looking around before opening it just wide enough to let me in.
“Something bad happened,” he whispered urgently as I stepped inside.
My pulse quickened and I focused on his face as he shut the door behind me, noting that while he was dry, he looked worse than I did, the color drained from his skin, his eyes haunted.
“I can’t fucking find it!” came Cody’s voice from somewhere in the house.
“What happened?” I asked.
His gaze shifted to a point behind me, and I turned.
I gasped, one hand flying to my mouth as the other gripped Tyson’s arm for support, my knees buckling beneath me.
Ian’s body lay crumpled at the base of the sweeping marblestaircase, his limbs at unnatural angles, a pool of blood seeping from beneath his head onto the gleaming beige floor.
“What the fuck, Tyson?” Cody demanded as he strode from the back of the house, his eyes flitting to me before fixing on his brother. “I told you not to let her in.”
“We need her help,” Tyson said. “You can’t leave the house.”
Cody shook his head, glowering at him. “She shouldn’t be involved in this.”
“Is he…?” I asked, staring at Ian’s unmoving form.
