“We’ve kept a secret for twenty years.” Rachel sniffs.
“It won’t help anybody if we start dredging up the past now,” says Noah.
“But it will offer an explanation for why Paige did what she did,” says Rachel. “What if Ali doesn’t make it?”
She thinks of Maria and the heart-wrenching pain she’ll endure at the loss of her only child. Every mother and child’s relationship is special, but their bond was unlike anything Rachel had ever seen. They’d been through so much already and come out of it all the stronger, but Maria would never get over losing the daughter who gave up so much for her, only to have her life snuffed out on what should have been the best day of her life.
“I may as well have killed Ali myself,” says Rachel. “She had no part to play in this; she was only doing the right thing by me, and look how I’ve repaid her.”
“You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself,” says Noah.
“If anything happens to her,” she says, ignoring him, “I’m going to have blood on my hands.”
“This isn’t our fault,” says Noah angrily, though Rachel knows it isn’t aimed at her.
“I apologize,” says Da Silva, reappearing around the curtain looking even more thoughtful and serious than when he went out. “So there is nothing you can think of that may have started this catalog of events?”
There is so much at stake here, Rachel feels like she’s standing on a bridge, deciding whether to jump or not.
“My wife and Jack Hunter were having an affair,” says Noah, making the decision for her.
Rachel looks at him, unable to hide the shock of his confession.
Da Silva raises his eyebrows. “I see…” he says, though it feels like there’s more to come.
“Both Rachel and I found out at the wedding reception,” Noah goes on while the policeman listens thoughtfully.
“And how did that make you feel?”
Rachel and Noah look at each other, both of them seemingly unable to put it into words.
“I understand,” says Da Silva. “Perhaps you can tell me how you came to find this out.”
“I don’t see why it makes a difference,” says Rachel. “Because it has nothing to do with what’s happened.”
“It might,” says Da Silva.
Rachel shakes her head. “Paige would never have done this intentionally,” she says, willing herself to believe it.
“I’m not suggesting she did, but we have to look at all the possibilities.”
“There are no other possibilities,” cries Rachel.
“You have escaped very lightly,” the policeman says to Noah. “Did you see the car coming?”
Noah nods. “I heard it before I saw it,” he says. “I suppose I just instinctively jumped out of the way.”
“So, you didn’t see who was in the car?” asks Da Silva.
“Well, no,” says Noah, looking confused. “But it was obviously my wife.” He chokes on the last word.
“And you, Mrs. Hunter? You weren’t able to see who was in the car?”
She shakes her head. “I just remember the lights blinding me, so I couldn’t see who was driving, but I think it’s pretty conclusive, don’t you?”
“That it was Paige Collins?” offers Da Silva.
Rachel nods.
“Not necessarily,” he says.
Noah and Rachel look at him quizzically as he sighs heavily.
“Because it appears that someone else may have been in the car with her.”
28
The last thing Rachel remembers before falling asleep is that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to sleep again. Now, as her eyes flicker open, she’s met by darkness, but she can make out an unfamiliar dim light filtering in from somewhere beyond her bed. It occurs to her that she might be in a hotel—she’s definitely not at home, she can tell by the acrid smell and strange beeping noises. Her throat is parched and she reaches to the right, where she’d normally keep her water, but there’s a spiky tug in her hand that immediately makes her recoil.
There’s a hum of voices, barely audible at first, but as soon as she concentrates, she can separate two accents. It feels as if she’s playing a lead role in someone else’s dream and, desperate to get herself out of it, she blinks really hard. It’s always worked before, when she’s trapped in a nightmare with no other way out. But as much as she squeezes her eyelids together, she still doesn’t wake up in her own bed.
Jack’s here, though—she can hear him, talking quietly, so as not to disturb her. Then she remembers the villa they were staying in and she realizes he must be downstairs.
She swings her legs off the bed, but a searing pain shoots from her hip, making her fall back against the pillow. What the hell’s going on? Jack’s voice seeps into her consciousness, his words becoming clearer, as if he’s getting nearer. She goes to call out but she stops herself when she hears him say, “She’s my soul mate.”
“So, you would do anything to protect her?” asks another voice, heavily accented.
“Of course,” says Jack. “She’s the love of my life. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“So, you’re planning to leave your wife?” asks the other male voice.
There’s a loaded silence as Rachel’s befuddled brain momentarily plays catch-up.
“Yes,” says Jack. “But it’s complicated because Paige is my wife’s best friend.”
The name pierces Rachel’s heart like a knife, as reality hits her. The wedding, the arguments, the blood, the thrashing waves as the car disappeared into the murky depths. Her lungs struggle to inflate as she gasps for air, making her feel as if she was the one in the water. Tears sting her eyes and she bites down on her clenched fist, for fear of crying out.
“Do you remember what happened to you, Mr. Hunter?” asks the man, who Rachel now recognizes as Da Silva.
Jack sighs. “I know that I was hit by a car that just came out of nowhere.”
“Do you remember where you were just before the accident?”
“I was on the terrace,” says Jack, sounding as if he’s in pain.
“And Paige Collins? Do you remember where she was the last time you saw her?”
“I … I don’t know,” says Jack. “Look, what’s this about?”
“I’m afraid I have some difficult news to tell you,” says Da Silva.
“What is it?” asks Jack, his voice high-pitched. “Is it Paige? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.”
A heavy silence fills the air as Da Silva contemplates how to answer.
“Do you not want to know how your wife is first?”
“Yes, of course,” snaps Jack.
“Your wife—she is fine, but I am afraid to say Paige Collins was not quite so lucky.”
“What do you mean?” asks Jack, panic-stricken. “Where is she? What’s happened to her?”
“Mrs. Collins’s body was recovered a little while ago,” says Da Silva.
Jack lets out a strangled cry. “No, she can’t be. She can’t be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Was she hit?” asks Jack. “Did the car hit her? Who’s the driver? You need to find the driver.” He’s verging on hysterical.
“Her body was found in the car,” says Da Silva.
“What the hell,” cries Jack. “But why? Why would she do that?”
“I’m not entirely sure she did,” says Da Silva.
“What?” Jack chokes. “What do you mean?”
“It appears Mrs. Collins might not have been alone in the car.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Rachel doesn’t know if it’s hers or Jack’s as she’s suddenly reminded of what she’d already been told.
“Are you suggesting that someone…?” Jack chokes. “Someone did this on purpose … to hurt her?”
“We’re looking at all lines of inquiry at the moment, but if you have any reason to think someone might have had cause to do such a thing, I’d be grateful to hear it. I understand your wife and Noah Collins found out about your affair at the wedding party?”
“They did?” answers Jack, almost in question. “Erm … erm, yes … yes, they did.”
“Did you tell them?”
“Er, no, I was intending to, but someone else got there first.”
“And who was that?”
“Ali,” spits Jack, with such venom that it makes Rachel shudder.