Chapter 11
Adrian was standing with the door open when Cora arrived. His normally pale self was even paler and large dark circles framed his eyes beneath his glasses, which he scooted back up on his nose.
“Cora,” he said, and pecked her on the cheek.
She stiffened.
“Come inside,” he said. “Listen, I, ah, need to explain all this to you.”
“Yes, I think you do,” she said.
“Shall we talk outside on the balcony? I have some wine out there and—”
“No,” she said. “Let’s talk here.” She sat down at the desk chair. He plopped on the bed.
“I should have told you about Marcy,” he said. “I was just, so, um, floored over seeing her wedding.”
But Cora persisted. “I was right next to you. We walked back together. There was plenty of time for you to tell me.”
“I know,” he said with a note of defeat. “It’s just, well . . . I like you a lot and I didn’t know how to say it to you. We saw the harpy who broke my heart get married.”
Cora felt her heart hitch. “What?”
“Yeah, well, she did a number on me and I’m not going to lie to you. If I had any real tendencies to kill someone, I’d have killed her a few years ago,” he said.
They sat for a moment in awkward silence, Adrian drumming his fingers on his thigh.
“So you felt uncomfortable about telling me she had been your girlfriend?” Cora finally said.
“Yeah. Of course I’ve been involved with other women, um, until I met you, but I’d rather not talk about any of them. You’re the one who matters now.”
Cora felt the knot in her stomach loosen as she breathed deeper.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. If it’s worth anything, I would have told you at the right time, if a right time came up. It felt awkward.”
“Okay,” Cora said. It wasn’t as if they were married, or had even gotten serious. She wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. She was here to teach and have fun. He was here to be with her and have a little vacation, neither of which had happened so far.
“So, why did they haul you in to question you for her murder?”
He stood and walked toward the glass sliding door as a knock came at his room door.
“It’s me,” Cashel said, and opened the door.
Cora eyeballed him and crossed her arms.
“What are you doing here?” Cashel asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you have some class to attend?”
“I do,” she said. “But my boyfriend texted me and wanted to talk, so I’m here, as if it’s any of your business, Cashel.”
Adrian stood behind Cora’s chair and placed his hand on her shoulder. “What’s up?” he said to Cashel.
“Have you told her everything?” Cashel said, red faced.
Everything? Cora wondered what that could mean.
“I was working on it, Cashel, before you came bounding in,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“The court is refusing to take away your tracking bracelet,” he said. “Looks like you might be stuck here, on this island, long after we leave.”
“Unless they find the real killer,” Adrian said, holding out his hand to show Cora the apparatus around his wrist.
Great, my boyfriend is on a lead.
“I’m trying to make other arrangements so you can leave the island. I mean, your livelihood is in Indigo Gap,” Cashel said.
“I’m sure you can handle it,” Cora said to Cashel.
“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but that text message is the problem,” Cashel said.
“Text message?” Cora’s eyes traveled from Cashel to Adrian and back again.
“I hadn’t quite gotten to that yet,” Adrian said.
“Oh, sorry,” Cashel said, but his tone showed that he clearly was not sorry—not in the least. Cora surmised he was enjoying this, enjoying the fact Adrian was squirming, that he had half dropped a bombshell into the situation.
“Marcy saw us,” he said to Cora. “And sent me a message.”
“And?” Cora said.
“She wanted to meet me. She said she’d never gotten over me and blah, blah, blah.”
“So why would they suspect you for killing her because of that?”
“I replied that I never wanted to see her again.”
“Oh.” Cora’s heart thudded in her chest.
“She wrote back pleading with him to meet her on the beach,” Cashel said. “And then he sent a brusque response.”
Now Cora hyperfocused on Cashel.
“Cashel, I—” Adrian started to say.
“Yeah, he wrote her back. He said, ‘No way. Drop dead.’”
Cora gasped.
Adrian smacked himself in the head. “I know, right? How stupid. But how was I to know someone was going to kill her? I’m innocent. I didn’t kill her. I told her to drop dead, but my God, I didn’t kill her.”
“How do we prove he didn’t kill her?” Cora asked Cashel.
Cashel waved her off. “I’m working on it. Try not to worry about it. Don’t you need to be knitting or something?”
Cora’s emotions zoomed from worry and anger and back to worry, and now she was pissed. What exactly was going on with Cashel? Why was he acting like such a jerk? She stood.
“I’m not quite sure what to say, Cashel,” she said. “But you know me better than that. When someone I care about is in trouble, I never stay out of it.”