Is this some sort of reverse global warming activism that I don’t understand? Was Eleanor a bad environmentalist? A good environmentalist?
“Yes. Snow Whitman. Well, not Whitman anymore. She has been the bane of my existence from the time that we were in school together all the way through thwarting my career at every turn and up until she had me ousted from my position running the advertising agency and then marrying the man who took my place.”
“She married Eleanor’s nephew?” I asked, making sure that I had gotten all of the strings of the web in place.
“Yes. She just keeps finding new and creative ways to destroy my life.”
“Let me get this straight. You hired me to kidnap a woman because she is the aunt of the husband of a woman who you think got married as some sort of plot to ruin your life?”
“If it wasn’t for Snow, I would be married, wealthy beyond my wildest dreams, with the career that I have always deserved. She has done nothing but make me suffer for most of my life. So now it’s time to make her suffer.”
The deadness was evident in her eyes again and was now creeping into her voice.
“By kidnapping her husband’s aunt?” I asked.
“Don’t you see?” she asked. “Eleanor is the most important person in Noah’s life. Other than Snow, now. I get to Eleanor, I get to Noah. I get to Noah, I get to Snow. If something should happen to Eleanor, it would devastate Noah, and he couldn’t possibly make his spoiled, self-centered wife happy if he’s not thinking about her every moment. They’ll get divorced, she’ll be out on her ass both in her personal and professional life, and I will finally have my revenge.”
I was sickened by what Lucille had just said. Eleanor had done literally nothing to her, but Lucille was willing to put her through hell just to get to a woman who she was brutally envious of. Lucille was climbing into the helicopter, but I stayed where I was standing. She looked out and me and held out her hands in a questioning gesture.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Get in so we can leave.”
“No,” I told her.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
“I know that’s not a word you’ve heard very much, except from your husband and, of course, this woman Snow, but when I say ‘no’ that means I’m not going to do what you want me to do. I’m not going to be a part of this.”
“You are already a part of this,” Lucille said. “You can’t get out of it.”
“I’m not going to be a part of it anymore. What you’re doing is disgusting.”
“Seriously?” Lucille scoffed. “You’re judging me? How do you think I was able to hire you? Where do you think I got your name? Does ‘Asher Roux’ sound familiar to you?” I felt all the muscles in my body tense at the sound of that name. I had never wanted to hear it again. “That’s right,” she said with a sneer. “He told me everything that you’ve done, and from the sound of it, you don’t have place calling other people disgusting. Now get your ass into this helicopter and show me the island. Earn the money that I know you so desperately need.”
That was enough. I stepped back from the helicopter and shook my head.
“You go on without me,” I said. “I’m not involved in this anymore.” I took a few steps away from her and then turned back. “And I’m not your subordinate. You have to be in a position of respect to have someone below you.”
The sound of Lucille’s indignant gasp in my ears, I climbed back down the rocks and into the trees, setting back toward Edwin and Sophie’s house.
Chapter Twenty
Hunter
I woke up with a smile on my face for the second time in the same day. Eleanor was beside me where we had laid down beside the river on a bed of soft ferns, stretched out on her belly with her head rested on her folded arms. Her back rose and fell gently with deep, even breaths and the sun filtering through the leaves above her dappled her naked body with points of light.
I could definitely get used to this.
I reached over and ran my fingertips down her spine. Her skin was so soft, delicately golden now after all the time that we had spent in the sun. She cooed at my touch and turned her head toward me. Her eyes were just starting to flutter open when I heard a sound behind me. I went still. Eleanor’s eyes snapped open, staring over my shoulder. She had heard it, too. I strained for the sound again and heard it, the distinct sound of footsteps coming through the undergrowth.
“What is that?” Eleanor whispered.
“Maybe it’s an animal,” I whispered back.
Eleanor shook her head as she pulled herself up to sit.
“No,” she said. “That’s no animal. Listen to the rhythm. It’s only walking on two feet.”
The sound was getting louder and I felt my body tensing up defensively. The sound paused for a brief moment and then I heard it again, this time layered as if it was the same sound repeating several times over.
“More than one,” I said.
I got to my feet, reaching for the pair of pants that I had brought to the river with me, and just as I turned, I saw a dark figure step through the trees toward us. Behind me I heard Eleanor gasp and felt her hand grab at my back.
“Virgil.”
My ears burned with the sound of the name and I could feel my eyes boring into the man that was walking toward me now, flanked on either side by two other men. It took me only a few seconds to recognize them as the men who had chased Eleanor through the cruise ship that night. I reached behind me, touching my hand to Eleanor’s hip to try to push her behind me so that they couldn’t see her. I knew by the look on Virgil’s face, however, that my attempts were futile.
“Hello, Eleanor,” he said, the edge of his voice slimy and insincere. In an instant, the fake smile that he had been wearing melted away, replaced by a look of hatred so pointed I felt it cutting through the air. “Look at you,” he spat toward us. “I always knew that you were a slut. Out here in the middle of nowhere fucking a guy young enough to be your son. You should be disgusted with yourself.”
I lunged toward Virgil, but Eleanor grabbed me to stop me, yanking me back toward her as she shouted my name. Virgil’s mocking laugh reverberated around the jungle and I felt it rolling along my skin like putrid oil.
“That’s right,” he said. “Defend her. Protect the gleaming virtue of the Hamptons harlot. It’s really no wonder why you were such an epic failure as a wife. It’s so clear now. You couldn’t cook. You never lifted a finger to clean the house so I had to double up on the housekeeping staff. You were always so incredibly humiliating when were in front of anyone, I couldn’t bring you anywhere. And in the bedroom, you were like a cold, rancid fish. It makes sense now. You couldn’t actually be at home doing the things that you were supposed to be doing because you were too busy out strolling the schoolyards for playmates to make you feel like you aren’t well past your prime.”
“You know none of that is true,” Eleanor said from behind me. She pressed against my back, only leaning her head around his side enough that she could speak without revealing all of her body to him. “You know that I did absolutely everything that I could possibly do for you and for our marriage. The cook only came when we were entertaining. I prepared every other meal that you ate in that house. You wouldn’t allow me to clean. You told me that it was embarrassing to think that the wife of a man of your stature would lift her finger to clean.”
I felt my mind spinning. Something about what they were saying wasn’t adding up. It wasn’t making sense.
Cook? Housekeeping staff?
“So, what’s your excuse now?” Virgil asked. “What brings you out to this island with this child?”
“I’m not a child,” I seethed at him.