Page 77 of The Awful Truth

A sea turtle caught her attention, and she followed it, hoping to get a little closer before it dove down too deep. It spun and moved through the water in a way that made her want to move so easily through life. Spinning and paddling and reveling in each moment without a care. It turned and looked at her before disappearing into the dark waters below and she turned back to the boat, smiling to herself for having had that tiny moment of joy. As she neared the yacht, movement to her right caught her attention. She turned, hoping her turtle had come back, but it was Ted.

He was holding the spear gun, arm stretched out, aiming it directly at her.

At first, she didn’t believe it. Her eyes must be playing underwater tricks on her.

But the longer she looked, the more clearly she saw him. His eyes through his mask were dark and empty. It was like the man she knew had vacated his body and some stranger was there pointing a deadly weapon at her.

She shook her head and tried to call to him, but her words got lost in the water.

He lifted the gun closer to his sight-line.

A voice in her head told her to lunge to her left. To the ladder hanging down from the yacht. But she was frozen in place.

TWO MINUTES EARLIER

TRAVIS

Travis threw his flippers onto the deck and climbed the ladder, fully pissed off that his gun had jammed. He had that fucking seal in his sights. It was as good as his. He threw the spear gun onto the deck, then stalked over to the cabinet where the fishing gear was held.

Oliver appeared immediately. “What do you need, sir?”

“A new fucking chief steward,” he said, grabbing a new spear gun from the cabinet. He unlocked the safety and hurried back to the platform. He slid his flippers back on and stood backward on the platform, picking up his gun. Just as he was about to jump in, Oliver said, “Wait, sir. I’ll make sure it’s safe.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m not an idiot.”

He jumped into the water, immediately feeling a searing pain in his chest. It was hot and took his breath away. He released the spear gun from his hand and looked down, certain he was having a heart attack. But then he saw it. The spear sticking out of him. He groaned in agony. The last thing he saw was Antonia, her face frozen in terror, her mouth agape. And then everything went black.

1:16 P.M

ANTONIA

Antonia had no idea how long she’d been sitting there in the shade of the overhang on the main deck. She was wrapped in several towels even though she had been dry for a while now. She was shivering and hot at the same time, which didn’t make sense to her. What was happening? Where was Ted? She distinctly remembered watching him swim toward the cave, his arms and legs flailing as if he were terrified of being in the water. But that wasn’t right. He was an excellent swimmer. He wasn’t scared.

On the far side of the deck, Mercy was slumped to the side, her head on Winslow’s shoulder as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm in long, soothing strokes. Why was she so upset? And why was Winslow helping her?

Miguel appeared next to Antonia and handed her a drink.

He spoke in a low tone. “I thought you could use this right about now. It looks like juice but it’s full of booze.”

She looked at him, confused, not knowing what she wanted. “Should I?”

He sat down beside her and put a comforting arm around her. “Dear God, yes. You nearly died.”

His words bounced off and, on some level, she knew her brain was protecting her from the pain of what had just happened. “What? No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t remember? Ted shot Travis with the spear gun,” Miguel said gently. He shook his head, his face scrunched up with concern. “But it could have just as easily been you. If Travis hadn’t jumped in the water at the exact moment that he did…I don’t think you’d be here right now.”

She stared at him without saying a word, feeling completely numb.

“Oh sweetie, drink up. You need to kick start your brain.”

“Okay.” She took a long gulp. It was light and tasted like grapefruit but burned a little going down her throat.

The police had boarded the yacht at one point, and they’d all been moved as far from the swim platform as possible so the body could be dealt with. The body. It hit her again. Everything that happened after she locked eyes with her husband was blurry and mixed-up. The silence under the water. Muffled screams that grew loud the second her head popped above the surface. Blood darkening the crystal-clear water. She was being yanked up by her arms and dragged across the platform. But who did that?

Travis splayed out on the white swim platform, red liquid leaking out and mixing with the seawater on the deck. He still had the snorkel mask on. It was all so strange. A dead man with a mask on. The crew kneeling around him with towels and a medic bag. So much shouting, and Mercy screaming and holding onto him. Winslow and Miguel gently helping her up and moving her up the stairs.

Charlotte. That’s who pulled her out of the water. It was Charlotte, of all people. She was clutching Antonia and saying something that made no sense at all. Something about Ted. And then they stood together, watching him swim away. Where was he going?