THE GIRL WHO KILLED YOU: An Action-Packed Island Mystery Thriller (The Shee McQueen Mystery Thriller Series Book 3) by Amy Vansant

Author:Amy Vansant [Vansant, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Charlotte stole a peek at Xander as they approached his lemon-hued cottage. He seemed a million miles away, with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head hanging low. She’d asked him about his stay and how many times he’d been to the island, only to be answered with grunts and shoulder shrugs.

He punched in a code and entered his cottage without hesitation and without turning, as if he’d forgotten she was there.

She paused on the porch to scan the area, finding nothing but jungle. The bungalows were spaced for the privacy of their famous inhabitants.

If I scream, will anyone hear me?

“You’re letting the bugs in,” said Xander.

She turned to find him staring at her, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a beer in the other.

“Do you like vodka?” he asked.

She nodded as she shut the door behind her. “Sure.”

He put down his beer and slid a glass to the center of the marble counter above the fridge. Cracking open the vodka, he stared at it, glanced at the glass, and then turned to her, looking lost.

“Do you want to make yours? I’m not sure how you like it.”

“Sure.”

She glanced at the large digital clock on the wall that was hanging in the same spot as the identical one in her cottage. Everything about Xander’s room aligned with hers, but for the clothes and other paraphernalia he’d strewn around it.

She had to kill an hour and a half. She needed to get him thinking about home. Maybe plumb the depths of any objections he might have to the idea of heading back, so she could prepare a counterargument.

She stepped to the counter as he retreated with his beer to flop on the loveseat.

“So, what do you do?” she asked, making herself a screwdriver with ninety percent orange juice and ice. The splash of vodka she hoped would calm her nerves.

“I’m nobody,” he said. “My dad’s a senator.”

“Oh. Neat.” Silence fell again, and she struggled to fill it. “My parents are in politics, too,” she added, before she could stop herself.

She had mixed feelings about the comment. Daughter of a politician wasn’t the backstory they’d fed YOU—identifying politicians and their children was too easy—but she’d wanted to steer Xander toward home and thought sharing a common background might increase his trust in her.

Indeed, he perked. “Yeah?”

She joined him on the sofa, sitting to the far opposite end. “Yep.”

“Then you know.”

“Pssht.” She took a sip of her weak cocktail. “Do I know.”

“You’re probably as messed up as me.” He chuckled, his first sign of levity. “I guess you already talked to Dr. Lilith?”

She nodded without elaborating. Technically, she had talked to the doctor, if not officially.

“What’s her deal?” she asked.

Xander showed as much animation in his expression as she’d seen.

“She’s amazing.” He suddenly twisted away from her, staring through the window behind them long enough that Charlotte felt obligated to search for movement outside.

“Do you see something?” she asked.

“No. I thought I did. Probably a bird.”

Charlotte took another sip, racking her brain for a way to change the topic.

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