See How They Run (Embassy Row, #2)

Well, almost nothing.

As it is, I only stumble a little when I realize that my grandfather isn’t alone.

“I’m afraid I fail to follow, young man.” Grandpa sounds confused and annoyed and maybe a tiny bit concerned. “What, exactly, is wrong with Grace?”

Noah, Megan, Rosie, and Lila stand before him, all of them drenched. All of them terrified. They have towels thrown around their shoulders, but Rosie still shakes.

“Sir, we hate to bother you, but time is important in these situations and it seems that Grace is …”

“Hey, what’s going on?” I call from the doorway, my voice too bright, too happy.

Instantly, Noah spins. Rosie drops her towel and Megan visibly exhales. Lila just looks at me with cool indifference, as if I’ve already messed up her schedule enough for one day.

“Gracie?” someone says, and for the first time I realize my brother is here, too, on the far side of the room. “Where have you been?”

But Grandpa keeps his attention on Noah. “You were saying, young man?”

“Oh.” Noah’s mouth hangs open and I can’t tell if he’s furious or relieved. Probably a combination of both, I realize, as he has to mentally rewrite whatever speech he’d probably started composing on the island. “Well, sir, Grace is not spending enough time with her friends, you see. We’re worried about her. She’s new and we want to make sure she experiences all that Adria has to offer.”

Grandpa goes from annoyed to merely befuddled. “Okay. Go. Leave. Experience with my blessing.” Grandpa stands and slaps Noah on the back. “Before you drip all over the floor and Ms. Chancellor yells at us.”

Ms. Chancellor, I think with a pang.

What harm did it do Caroline?

“I take it you’ve been out enjoying the rain festival?” Grandpa’s voice pulls me back, but it takes a while to realize he’s talking about me and that I’m as drenched as my friends. But, as usual, Grandpa isn’t really concerned about my answer. “How they get it to rain every year at least once during these two weeks I’ll never know. But somehow they do.”

Then Grandpa shakes his head, as if in wonder.

My brother isn’t as easily distracted. “Where have you been?” he asks.

Noah cocks his head. “Yeah, where have you been?”

I give my friends an I’ll fill you in later nod and move toward my grandpa’s desk.

“The theory has always been that Alexei had to have killed Spence because he died on the island and no one else there had a motive to kill him, right?” I don’t bother to wait for their replies. “But what if Spence didn’t die on the island?”

If my change of subject surprises them, it doesn’t last long.

“You can’t know that, Gracie,” Jamie says.

“Yes. I can.” I pull Jamie’s phone from my pocket and hold it out to him. “I found this. And it’s full of messages from Spence. From after the party.”

“Is that mine?” Jamie asks.

“Yes.”

My brother comes toward me, takes the phone. “Where did you find it?”

If I tell him, we’ll fight, and, for once, I’m not in the mood, so I take a step back.

“The police think Alexei did it because Spence never left the island. Well, they’re wrong. There’s no cell service on the island. If Spence called and texted Jamie after the party, then he must have made it back. And if he made it back, then Alexei wasn’t the only person who could have killed him.”

I’m right, and I know it. They know it. But there is something else on Jamie’s mind as he leans toward me, his voice like ice.

“Where did you find the phone, Gracie?”

“Where did you lose your phone, Jamie?”

“I don’t know. That’s kind of what people mean when they say things are lost.”

“Where did you last see it?”

“I don’t know. Here, I guess. I remember putting it in my jacket pocket and then …”

“Spence was wearing your jacket,” I say, but Jamie only looks at me, confused. “When he washed ashore, he was in your jacket. That’s why I thought he was you.”

I regret the words as soon as I say them.

“Oh, Gracie.” Jamie moves to hug me, but I don’t need his comfort or his pity. I want his trust.

So I lie.

“The phone was downstairs. In the dining room under the table. You probably turned it off for dinner, and then it fell out of your pocket, but how I found the phone doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Spence made it back to the mainland.”

“No.” Grandpa shakes his head, walks around his desk. “Impossible. The police questioned everyone, and no one admitted to giving him a ride off the island, Gracie. It’s too far to swim. There’s no way.”

“There is a way! I know because it happened.” I reach for the phone again, shove it toward my brother. “Here. Play them. Play your messages.”

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