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The Island: Chapter 13


“Well, detective. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Reeve asks, looking between me and the name screaming at us on the monitor.

“You know I am,” I reply. “Camilla’s hardly been levelheaded, but you should’ve seen her eyes when she said Robert. Wild. Afraid. She suspects him, and her reaction is exactly what you’d expect from a family member. I’d be that scared if it was someone I love, too.”

“You really think she believes it’s him? Maybe she’s just scared for him. He might be staying on the island without permission.”

“No way. If she thought he was innocent and in danger she would have told us by now. His safety would be more important than Malcolm giving him a slap on the wrist. She’d be frantically looking for him. She’s protecting him. Is it her husband? Or maybe her son?”

Reeve nods. “All right. Let me pull up Robert’s file. There will be a picture and we can use that to trace him on the CCTV.”

He clicks the mouse twice and frowns.

Oh, what now?

“What?” I look from him to the screen twice. “What am I not seeing? You’re going to need to spell it out for me.”

“What you’re not seeing, because it’s not there, is his staff photo. It should be right here.”

“Let me guess. Someone deleted it.” I roll my eyes. “I wonder who…”

“We get one step forward, then knocked two back. There’s no way of telling if there ever was a picture for him. It might not have been taken yet, but the deleted thing is more likely considering everything going on.” He taps his temples. “Think, think, think.”

“Check the trash.”

“I will, but these would be in the program. Nothing saves onto the desktop.”

Reeve looks, but the trash is empty.

Groaning, I ask, “Okay, what do we actually have?”

“There’s some information about him still. No picture or address, but not everything is gone.”

“Just the thing that can identify him. We don’t even have any service to look him up online. I could find him in half a second if the Wi-Fi was working.”

He smiles as he works. “I bet you could. His emergency contact is listed. He’s an operator for the Flame coaster but can be stationed anywhere if needed. Let me check….”

“Check what? Reeve? Hello!”

“Uh, this. Look, the last time he punched in and out was Tuesday. We’ve had ride operator practice all week. I’ve been with the staff, but I’ve never met Robert.”

“You were?”

“What? Oh, don’t give me that face, Paisley. I know how to check them. I don’t do the repairs myself…unless it’s turning it off and on again.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s fine. And for the record, I would know how to fix them. I thought back to when I wanted to be an engineer, when I was inside, but I don’t think that’ll happen.”

“You can still take a class.”

He clenches his jaw. “No.”

There’s more to that. Has he been told he’s unlikely to get a job as an engineer because of his record? That kind of sucks.

I want to tell him that, but the hurt and anger flashing across his face tell me to shut my mouth. There’s no need to make him feel worse about his situation.

“He might have stayed on the island beyond Tuesday but not punched in. No one would expect him to be here, then. All he had to do is stay hidden.”

“Would you skip punching in if it was the only way to get paid?” Reeve asks.

I give him a look that tells him to catch up. “Maybe if you need an alibi. Does Camilla punch in?”

He laughs. “She’s not a ride operative, cook, server, driver, or in maintenance.”

Right. Only the lowly minions punch in.

“Got it. So, he either has nothing to do with this, their surnames are a coincidence, and Camilla is worrying about him for another reason. Or he didn’t punch in because he didn’t want to leave a trace.”

Reeve pulls his own picture up on another screen and then opens the saved CCTV folders. “Ready to go on a murderer hunt?”

“Usually, yes. It’s my favorite thing to do—don’t tell my mom that—but it’s less fun when you’re doing it while being trapped with one.”

“Your favorite thing? Damn, girl, you need another hobby.”

“You sound like my parents. Should we go to Malcolm and Camilla with this?” Even as I say the words, I know we shouldn’t. Something about them makes me hesitate to trust them.

“What are the chances they’ll answer honestly?” he asks.

“Not great. But if there’s another, more innocent reason for her tears, we could be wasting time here, Reeve.”

“Let’s just see if there’s someone I don’t recognize on the footage. If there’s no sign of him, we’ll go ask.”

“All right. Besides, they could just lie.” We need more before we go to them if we want them to be honest and prove that we know something is up.

Evidence might be the only way we’ll get proof.

Reeve and I fall silent as we stare at screens. I’m relying heavily on him pointing out male strangers. I see him, Gibson, and Kenna a few times. Not much of Malcolm or Camilla. There’s no one else I’d recognize anyway.

“There!” he says, pointing to someone near the ice cream cart.

I shudder at the sight of him near where Will was found. Was the creep scoping the best place to store a body?

“Could that be him?”

“I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “Could be. He’s the only person I don’t know on this footage so far. I wouldn’t be able to point them all out, but this guy I haven’t seen before.”

“You’re sure?”

Reeve leans in to the screen and squints. “I think so. It’s hard to make out his features, though. Plus, there are people I haven’t met. Look at the time stamp. This was about ten minutes before you all arrived.”

“You just walked straight past him! There you go!”

Reeve shakes his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice him.”

There are a few other people around and Reeve was on his phone—throwback to when those worked here—so it’s not surprising that he walked straight past.

“Where does he go?”

“I can’t see, but he’s heading in the direction of the hotel.”

“Shouldn’t he be going to the boat? We must arrive in minutes.”

“Yeah,” Reeve says. “He should be. He should follow me, but he’s not.”

“Wait, I see him.”

He frowns and leans closer to the screen again. He’s going to bump his forehead soon if he keeps doing that. “He turned back.”

“Yeah.”

The potential Robert went back toward the boat. The rest of the staff is clearly seen heading that way at the same time we enter the park.

It’s impossible to see whether he went to the jetty because the footage cuts.

“Oh, come on!” I shout. “Does he leave the island?”

“Everyone was there at that point,” Reeve says. “If he suddenly turned around then and walked back, surely we’d have noticed.”

Would we, though? He wasn’t on Reeve’s radar. Or mine.

There’s nothing spectacular about this guy’s appearance. He’s average. Great for blending in and going unnoticed.

When all this gets out, people will say “he never looked the type.” I shudder.

“Gibson would know, right?” I ask. “He would’ve been on the boat with him for the twenty minutes it takes to cross to the mainland.”

“Think we should let anyone else in on this yet?” he asks.

My very first question, considering they were close friends before working here, is, Why doesn’t Reeve trust Gibson with this?

“Do we have a choice?” I ask. “We can’t sit on this. We have to see if Gibson can confirm if that’s Robert and then confront Camilla and Malcolm.”

“Okay, but before that we could at least see if anyone else stays on the island. This is just the first guy.”

I want to tug on my hair but it’s already a miracle that stress hasn’t made it fall out yet.

“All right,” I reply. Though this sounds a bit like stalling. If we know who this person is, then maybe we can figure out what they want and where they are.

We might be able to stop them before they hurt anyone else. By some miracle, we might even find Kenna alive.

“Wait, Reeve. What do you know about Kenna?”

He does a double take. “What? No way, she’s the sweetest. A real maternal type, and not just to her daughter, Gabrielle. She makes sure you have a jacket when it’s cold and feeds you if she thinks you’re looking thin. I’ve only known her for a month, but this isn’t her.”

“Yeah, I only saw her twice and I kind of got that too. I just wanted to make sure.”

A killer doesn’t seem like a killer until it’s too late, though.

Reeve and I spend the next thirty minutes going back another day in the footage to see if we can find anyone else. I’m not much help, since I only know the people on the island now, and he doesn’t see any other men he doesn’t know who could be Robert.

By the time he’s zoomed through the whole day, I’m going nuts.

“All right,” he says, finally conceding. “Let’s go back up.”

I’m on my feet before he can finish talking.

Finally. That was a total waste of time. We should’ve gone up the second we saw that first guy. Almost everyone else Reeve didn’t know was a woman, and there was one guy who we were able to trace using staff documents.

Reeve and I walk the corridor. I almost want to go back into that room and hide. Everything outside is unpredictable.

The killer is on the island somewhere, and there’s a big mystery around Robert. It would be easier to lock ourselves away until help arrived.

“We need to eat something better than chips at some point,” Reeve says, opening the door to the lobby. He holds it for me to go ahead.

The lobby is quiet when we step back inside. Ava and James are cuddled up asleep on a sofa, Harper is still reading her book. Camilla is now staring out the window—though she can probably only see her haunted expression at this point.

Can she see Robert in her reflection?

I open my mouth to ask if anyone knows where Gibson and Liam are. Malcolm too, since he’s not here anymore. But before I can get a word out, the lights cut, and we’re thrown into darkness.

I freeze on the spot. The rain is battering down hard on the windows. It’s the only thing that I can hear for a few seconds. That, and my pulse whooshing in my ears.

It’s faint, but I just about make out someone’s gasp. I turn toward the sound, but who knows if I’m facing it.

My phone is dead, so I can’t use it to see.

Harper’s voice comes out in a terrified whisper. “What’s going on?”

“Why’d the lights go out?” Ava shouts. “Hello!”

“Stay calm. I think it’s just a power cut,” Reeve says. “Does anyone have their cell on them?”

“I’m out of battery,” Ava cries out. “I need a charger! I don’t like this. Why is the generator not working yet?”

“I’m out too,” I announce.

“Can you go put the power back on, man?” James asks. “My phone is here somewhere, but I can’t find it.”

“I’m trying to find my way. Everyone just stay where you are,” Reeve says over us.

“We can’t see to move!” Ava screeches. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Calm down, Ava,” Harper snaps.

I hear movement from somewhere in the room but it’s hard to tell where.

“Camilla, do you have your phone?” Reeve asks.

“Yes.”

“Can you use it, then? We need the flashlight.”

If I wasn’t so scared, I would laugh at Reeve’s tone.

“It’s on the table. I was using it to work.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Reeve, where are you going?”

“Breaker box.”

I turn my head toward his voice. He sounds much farther away from me than he was a second ago.

“Where?” I ask.

“I think I’m getting near the entrance.”

“Oh, yeah, leave us in here again,” Ava sneers. “Will’s dead and now we can’t see. That’s great.”

The murder hasn’t altered her attitude.

“At least he’s doing something,” I snap. “All you do is just complain.”

“Now is not the time!” Camilla shouts through the darkness.

“Where’s Gibson, Liam, and Malcolm?” Reeve askes the question from even farther away. I wish he’d taken me with him. I don’t like standing here alone.

Camilla clears her throat. “They went to try the radio. The one we use for the helicopters and air control. Not the handhelds. I can’t find my phone; it was on the table.”

That’s a good idea. Our phones don’t work, but maybe they can get the radios working.

“Why didn’t they try that earlier?” I ask.

“Malcolm did, of course. Gibson and Liam said they’ll take a look, as it was…”

I laugh but there’s nothing funny. “It was tampered with like the phones and boat?”

Someone really wants us isolated here.

“Okay. Why hasn’t the generator kicked in yet?” I ask.

Reeve is the one to reply. “The killer doesn’t want it to. It should’ve come on by now.”

“Oh god, we’re all going to die,” Ava says, a loud sob bouncing off the glass.

“Ava, for goodness’ sake!” Harper shouts. “You’re—”

A thud steals my breath and Harper’s words.

I spin to where I think the noise came from. What the hell was that?

That sounded like a body hitting the floor.

“Reeve?” I say, my voice trembling with fear.

I’m met with silence.

Shit.

“Reeve, where are you? Answer me!” I sound as panicked as Ava and that’s because I am.

I’m not sure who muttered “He’s next,” but it makes my heart constrict in terror.

“Reeve!” I shout louder. I spin around, still blinded by darkness, and raise my arms in front of me. “James and Camilla, find your phone! We need to help him.”

“I’m trying,” Camilla replies. She makes a crash as she knocks things off the table and swears under her breath.

“Who’s still here? Call out your name,” I say.

One by one, Ava, James, Harper, and Camilla let me know they’re still in the room.

Nothing from Reeve.

“I told you we’re all going to die here,” Ava says.

“Why would you go there again?” Harper snaps back. “Idiot.”

“I’m just stating the obvious! We’re alone and no one is looking for us!”

“That doesn’t mean we’re going to die!”

“Girls, enough,” Camilla orders, but it’s useless. They continue arguing as if they didn’t hear her.

There’s another, louder, thud. No, two. Two in a row. Footsteps?

It’s hard to hear over the bickering.

I stumble forward frantically, my hands out in front of me. “Shut up!” I shout. “I just heard something. Reeve?”

“Oh god, here he comes,” Ava mutters. It sounds like she’s crying now. She is not the person you want around in a time of crisis.

“Listen,” I say, straining to hear anything other than our heavy breaths.

“Reeve?” I whisper.

From somewhere in the room, someone groans. It’s almost a gargle, a desperate attempt to gulp down some oxygen.

My stomach ties another knot.

“Reeve!”

Then Ava screams. The sound could shatter glass. “It came from James! It’s James! It’s James!”

There’s a scrambling and another crash, this time like something falling onto wood. It’s so dark I can’t see a thing.

I keep my arms in front of me and walk in the direction where she was sitting, but I can’t be a hundred percent sure I’m going the right way. I’ve spun around since the lights went out.

“Ava, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“He was beside me!” she screams.

“Ava!”

“Ava! Where are you now?”

The killer’s in here with us.

“Camilla, your phone!” I shout. “Find it. We need to see her.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Ava chants. Her voice is muffled like she’s speaking into something. Her hands, maybe.

“Ava, keep talking so I can find you.”

I shuffle another step, desperately trying to find her and hoping I don’t walk into a murderer.

A second later the room is filled with light again. I blink twice as I adjust to the sudden brightness. I lower my eyes, and the first thing I see is Ava huddled on the floor with her face in her hands.

The second is James slumped in his seat with a knife through his chest.

Ava looks up and her scream, this time, lasts for about thirty seconds.

Harper leaps to her feet and backs up. “Ah, Jesus!”

“No one touch him!” I shout, my heart racing, thumping against my rib cage.

“W-wasn’t planning to,” Harper replies robotically. “He’s dead. Oh my god!”

Camilla shuffles along the window, pressing herself against the glass as if it will melt and let her escape through it. Her eyes are so wide I can see way more of the whites than I should.

I gag and cover my mouth.

Calm down.

Okay. I need to think.

Clear your head, Paisley.

I rub my temples. Come on. I’m sure Reeve went in the opposite direction. It sounded like he was on my right when he spoke, and they were sitting to my left. So odds are he’s fine and just left to turn the power on.

Which means he should be back any second.

The killer was preoccupied with James, so Reeve couldn’t have been taken.

“I’m going to check out the room,” I say. “Everyone stay calm.”

Ava slides along the floor, putting more distance between herself and James.

Harper crouches beside her and turns her head. “Don’t look. Focus on me.”

I walk around the back of the sofa where James is sitting and stuff my quivering hands in my pockets. There’s nothing. Not even right in front where the killer must have come from. The knife is the right way up; if he’d been behind him, the knife would be upside down.

I’m not sure I would be able to tell from the wound and I don’t want to look.

No tables or chairs were knocked. How did the killer manage to get into the middle of the lounge in total darkness without bashing into anything?

I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face.

He must have those night vision glasses to help him see in the dark, the absolute psycho.

That thought is so unnerving that my stomach almost rejects the chips and salsa I ate earlier.

I ditch the pockets and press my fist to my mouth so I don’t vomit. I always thought I would be calmer in situations like this, but I never really thought I would have to deal with one.

Moving forward, I continue my search, walking around the lounge. No footprints. This person has been in the building a while, or they would have brought in water from the storm outside. There would be drops on the floor and wet prints.

“Paisley, what are you doing?” Harper asks.

She’s the first one to speak in what must be five minutes.

“Looking for evidence.”

Ava sniffs loudly. “What evidence? You’re not a real detective. You’re not the cops. And this isn’t a game!”

“I don’t think this is a game,” I snap. She shuts up when I explain what I’ve found so far. Which isn’t a lot, but we know the killer is hiding out somewhere in the hotel.

“We need to find Malcolm, Liam, Gibson, and Reeve,” Camilla says. Her voice is a shaky whisper. Her palms are splayed on the glass behind her and she’s still staring wide at James.

“Camilla,” I say. “Hey, don’t do that. It won’t help. But you are right, we do need to find the others. Where’s the radio?”

“Control room.”

“Okay. I think we should all go together. No more splitting up.”

Not that it seems to matter. James was killed when there were four other people in the room.

“Hopefully Reeve is with them,” I say.

Why wouldn’t he have come straight back when the lights turned on?

“Or Reeve’s the killer,” Harper says. “Don’t you think it’s weird that the lights went out, he disappeared, and James was murdered?”

Another knot. “No. He was with me until the lights went out. How would he have turned them off?”

She shrugs. “Don’t let him fool you just because you think he’s hot.”

“I’m not letting anyone fool me. If you think it’s him, back it up and we’ll listen to your theory. How could he have done it, Harper?”

As far as I’m aware, there’s no remote for the lights. We have an app at home, but I haven’t seen Reeve with his phone. If he still has battery.

She shrugs. “I have no clue. It was just a thought.”

“We all need to stop fighting. This isn’t getting us anywhere,” Camilla says. She straightens her back and walks away from the window.

Well, look who’s back and ready to take charge.

It’s a little late.

Harper gets to her feet and pulls Ava’s hands. “Up you get, Ava. We’re all staying together from now on.”

The four of us walk down the stairs to the basement. This has to be my least favorite place to go, but here we are.

“I do not like this,” Ava says.

I take a deep breath. This is totally a place to get yourself murdered. No one needs to come down here alone.

“Guys, you still down here?” I call out, almost at the bottom of the stairs.

Why am I the one to go first?


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