Bright morning sunlight streamed through the bedroom window.

The weather was good, and that pleased me. Today, I’d take Jolie off the island on the boat, and the last thing we needed was a rough ocean to navigate.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I padded over to my adjoining bathroom to relieve myself and splash some water on my face. I dressed casually then left to go downstairs.

Halfway down the staircase, I paused.

The house was still and silent. No aroma of coffee filtered through the air.

I frowned. Had Loretta come down sick again? She’d seemed well enough the previous night. Or was she upset with how I’d spoken to her about the invasion of my privacy and had taken herself off in a huff? I didn’t expect that kind of behavior from her. She was my employee, and she seemed to have forgotten her role in my household.

I hoped she’d hadn’t tried hacking into my computer again. I had misjudged her previously, and I was concerned I’d done so for a second time. I might have changed my passwords on everything yesterday, but there was always the chance she’d had a way of finding them out again. For all I knew, she’d set up cameras of her own and had watched every key I’d tapped as I’d sat at my computer, and then sneaked back while I was sleeping to log back in. She might have logged onto my accounts, transferred my money, and then left the island on the boat I’d planned to move Jolie on.

Convinced that was exactly what had happened, I hurried to my office. Everything looked just as I’d left it, but that meant nothing. I slid into my chair and fired up the computer. Relief allowed me to breathe as my password was accepted—so if she had been on, she hadn’t bothered to change it to block me out of my own computer.

Quickly, I opened the feed for the cameras to check on Jolie. Would she be awake—

“What the hell?”

What I saw on screen stopped my thoughts in their tracks. I leaned in, at first unsure of what I was seeing. The main part of the bedroom was empty, but there appeared to be two figures in the bathroom. One lay face down on the floor, while another had her back against the bathroom wall, her arms wrapped around her legs and her face buried in her knees. I recognized her honey-brown hair splayed over her arms and shoulders, hiding her face.

There was only one person the figure on the ground could be.

I shot to my feet, my chair crashing to the floor behind me. I always kept the keycard for the elevator on my person, so I raced out and used it to swipe the elevator open. The doors couldn’t open quickly enough, and I stepped inside the moment the gap was big enough to allow me to do so.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I slammed my fists against the metal walls of the car.

It moved down, and the doors opened. I threw myself into the room, my heart pounding.

“Jolie?” I stormed through the room, into the bathroom. “Jesus Christ.”

Ignoring Jolie for the moment, I crouched beside Loretta and pushed her over, so I could get a better look. The moment my palm made contact with her shoulder, I knew I was too late. Her skin was cold.

“Holy shit.”

Loretta’s eyes were wide and staring, her skin already a strange mottled white and purple. Dark marks circled her throat. To one side lay the Taser, and I noted how several prongs had been discharged.

How long had Jolie just been sitting there like that? From the coolness of Loretta’s skin, I assumed it must have been half the night.

I left the body to go to Jolie.

I placed my hand on her back, and she trembled beneath my palm.

She said something, but I didn’t catch it, her voice tiny.

“What did you say?”

Jolie lifted her face a fraction, but she didn’t meet my eye. She shook her head, tiny frantic movements over and over. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

“An accident? What the fuck happened, Jolie?”

But she continued to shake her head, almost like she was fitting. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to.”

I’d never seen her like this before. I wasn’t even totally sure she knew I was there. She was staring at something, some imaginary point in the distance, perhaps, trying to take away from the horror before her.

Seeing her like this tore me up inside. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

I put my hand against her cheek, pushing her hair back from her face. Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine and really saw me for the first time.

She burst into tears. “Oh, Hayden, what have I done?”

I put my arms out to her and pulled her to me. She climbed into my lap like a small child and sobbed against my chest. My eyes prickled with tears for her pain, and I blinked them away. I didn’t cry—hadn’t cried since my mother had been killed—but I felt her anguish as though it was my own. I held her in my arms and rocked her, stroked her hair and soothed her

“It’ll be all right, Jolie. I’ll make this go away. I’ll fix it, I swear to you.”

“You can’t. You can’t undo what I’ve done.”

“I can, baby. I can. I’ll make everything right again, I promise.” It was the first time I’d used the endearment, and I was surprised it had come out of my mouth. I’d never called anyone baby before.

Her body relaxed a fraction against mine, and I held her tighter, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. The Taser had been fired and discarded, and from the fact they were in the bathroom rather than running for the exit, I assumed it was because Jolie was hiding from Loretta. Anger coiled inside me, both at Loretta and also myself, for sleeping peacefully while all of this was going on. Had Jolie called my name, begging for help? The thought wrenched my guts in two.

I should have seen the warning signs with Loretta. This was my fault as much as it was Jolie’s. Loretta had made enough noises about how much she hated Jolie, and I’d given her unrestricted access. I’d been stupid. Loretta had already betrayed me by hacking my computer. I should have known that she’d take her frustration and hatred out on Jolie.

Fuck.

Loretta didn’t have anyone in the outside world. That was what made her so perfect to bring onboard. She’d had nothing else to lose, and no reason to convince herself that getting revenge on her daughter’s murderer wasn’t a good idea. It also meant no one was going to miss her. No one had for the past eight months when she’d come to live here, and no one was going to miss her now.

I closed my eyes, containing my sorrow. I would be the same way when I was dead. No one would miss me. No one would care I was gone. No one would even notice.

Except for Jolie. Jolie would notice. She may even miss me in her own twisted way.

I needed to get her out of this room and away from the body.

I scooped my hands under her and rose to my feet. Her weight felt like nothing, and her arms slipped around my neck as I cradled her to my chest. She shook and trembled, and my shirt grew damp with her tears. A rush of protectiveness swept through me, and I held her closer.

Turning away from Loretta’s body, I carried Jolie out of the bathroom and toward the elevator. I maneuvered her in my arms to get hold of the keycard and open the doors. With relief, I stepped inside, and moments later we were moving up.

It felt strange to step back out into the main part of the house. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and I realized I’d completely forgotten it was even daylight. It was as though I’d stepped into another dimension the moment I’d gone into that room—a place where there was only death and darkness. To be back up here in the early morning light felt foreign. 

Jolie showed no sign that she understood that I’d brought her out of the room. She continued to cry silently, her face buried against my chest.

I carried her into the living room—a space I rarely used—and set her down on the couch. She curled up on her side but lay awkwardly, her handcuffed hands held away from her body. The sight troubled me. Were her hands hurting her? Loretta had clearly used the Taser on her—perhaps even more than once. Maybe the electric shock had caused some kind of nerve damage?

Crouching beside her, I placed my hand on her shoulder. She flinched at my touch.

“Why are you holding your arms like that, Jolie?” I deliberately kept my voice soft, seeing that she was already traumatized. “Are you hurt?”

She sniffed and shook her head, then lifted her gaze to mine. “It’s the handcuffs,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re what I used to—” She broke off with a choked sob.

“You used them to do what?” I said, not understanding, but then it dawned on me. I remembered the red marks around Loretta’s throat. Jolie must have used the chain joining the handcuffs to strangle Loretta. “Ah, shit.”

I stared down at the metal cuffs. No wonder she didn’t want them near her body. It must be like having the murder weapon attached to her.

She held her hands out to me. “Please, Hayden. They’re torturing me. Every time I catch sight of them, all I can see is how I held them around her throat.”

I hesitated before making a decision, unsure if this would turn out to be another one of her tricks, and she’d use my kindness to escape. But then I remembered how I’d found her, still sitting beside the body. She could have taken Loretta’s keycard and made a run for it again. I wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. Perhaps she’d simply been in too much shock to think about it, or maybe she hadn’t because she’d known she needed me.

“Wait here.”

The key to the handcuffs was in my office.

I rose to my feet, but her hand snatched out and wrapped around my wrist. “No, Hayden. Please don’t leave me.”

“I have to. I won’t be long. I need to get the key for the cuffs, okay?”

I didn’t think she was going to release me, but slowly her fingers unfurled from my wrist, and her hand dropped over the edge of the couch. I felt horrible leaving her, but I had no choice. I’d need to leave her for longer soon, as I couldn’t just abandon Loretta’s body down there. It was one thing no one missing her, but it was another for someone to stumble across the body. I didn’t think there was much chance of anyone finding her down there any time soon, but I didn’t want to take the risk.

Quickly, I went to my office, located the key, and went back to Jolie. I dropped down beside her again and worked the lock. The cuffs popped open, and I yanked them off her wrists and threw them to the other side of the room.

Jolie burst into tears, sobbing noisily against the cushions. Red marks circled where the cuffs had been, and I took her wrists in my hands, rubbing at the sore skin while she cried. There was nothing I could do or say to change what had happened. All I could do now was be there for her while she cried. Tears were cathartic and would help her feel better, and then I hoped she would sleep. She must have been up for a large chunk of the night, hunched up against the bathroom wall while Loretta’s body slowly grew cold. She was probably exhausted.

I stroked her arms then moved to her back until her sobbing became sporadic little hiccups. Finally, her breathing grew deeper and more regular, and I knew she was asleep.

I got to my feet then leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Jolie.”

She couldn’t hear me, and I wasn’t sure I would ever say sorry to her during a time when she could hear me. Despite what had happened, nothing had changed. I still fully intended on killing her father, and I still needed her onboard with that. I had promised to break her not so long ago, and right now she seemed broken, but I wasn’t happy about it. I discovered I didn’t want to lose her fire and spark, and I would miss that side of her if she didn’t come back from this.

Leaving Jolie for the moment, I went out to the pool. There was also a storage shed out there which contained all the gardening equipment. I let myself inside. The space was dark and musty, and I picked my way through the selection of items—a lawnmower, old garden furniture, cushions that had been stored away—until I found what I needed.  The wheelbarrow was old, but worked perfectly well. I added a large shovel into the barrow, and then took the whole lot outside. Parking it outside of the door, I went back into the house. I popped my head around the living room door to see Jolie in exactly the same spot as I’d left her. I didn’t really expect her to make a run for it, but that warning light flashed in the back of my mind. She’d tricked me once, and while I thought this would be an extreme way to make her escape, I couldn’t put it past her.  

I went back down to the basement room. The atmosphere felt different down there, and icy fingers crept across the back of my neck. I shuddered. I wasn’t someone who was easily spooked, but I wasn’t some gangster who dealt with dead bodies every day. I might be considered hard among many, but I didn’t normally get people killed.

Nevertheless, I needed to do this.

I’d brought a heavy garbage bag down with me, together with a set of garden gloves, which I planned on burying with the body. Loretta was short, but she wasn’t lightweight like Jolie. I spread open the bag next to the body, put on the gloves, and got to work. The first stages of rigor mortis had already set in, and I cringed as I forced her arms and legs into the sack. I pushed down my revulsion and kept going, knowing I needed to get it done.

After what felt like forever, I got her into the bag and twisted the top shut. I was thankful Jolie had killed her by strangulation instead of stabbing, so at least there wasn’t a ton of blood to clear up.

I hauled the bag up onto my shoulder, took the elevator up to the ground floor, and then carried the body outside and dumped it into the waiting wheelbarrow. I went inside for a moment to check on Jolie, who was still sleeping, and then made my way back outside.

The recent storm meant the ground was still saturated, which made things easier for me. The sun had dried out the top layer of dirt, but the rest was still soft and damp. I took hold of the handles of the barrow and got moving. I wanted to get into the center of the island, as far away as possible from the house and the encroaching ocean that surrounded us. I considered briefly taking her for an ocean burial, but I knew doing so would play havoc with my imagination. I’d forever think Loretta’s body would  end up washed up on shore somewhere, or else that she’d bump up against me while swimming or get caught in the motor of the boat. At least below ground, I knew she would stay put.

By the time I reached my destination, sweat poured down my brow and down my back, and soaked into the armpits of my shirt. It was going to be a hot day, and the hike through the island was hard enough without pushing a wheelbarrow containing a dead body and a shovel. I still had the hard part left to do.

I picked up the shovel and tested the earth a few times until I hit what seemed to be a soft area. Then I got to work, stabbing the shovel into the dirt and digging hard. I needed the hole to be deep enough that she wasn’t going to end up dug up by animals.

I gave up on my shirt, yanking it up and over my head, so I worked bare-chested, in only my jeans. I wasn’t much cooler—the surrounding palm trees protected me from any breeze coming off the ocean—but at least I didn’t have a wet shirt slapping against my skin. I must have been filthy, sweat-smeared dirt across my face and chest, but finally the hole was big enough. I went to the wheelbarrow and wheeled it over to the edge of the hole, and then tipped the body in.

The body fell, hitting the bottom of the hole with a thump.

A pang of remorse went through me. This was just another victim of Patrick Dorman. By killing Loretta’s daughter, he’d made her bitter and twisted enough to want to take that pain out on Jolie. Just as by killing my mother, I’d done the same to Jolie. I’d been convinced all this time that Jolie didn’t deserve to be shown any mercy, and that she had contributed to his actions, but now I was starting to see her as a victim, even though she’d been the one to kill Loretta. But she’d clearly done so in self-defense, and I couldn’t blame her for that, even if she might blame herself.