Page 62 of The Session

“For starters, I’ll sound like a nutjob. And second, if he was killed, and it wasn’t by somebody on the outside, then it was somebody on the inside.”

“Why not go to the police?” Mark asked.

“The cops here? That could only make things worse. You don’t know who anyone works for or who to trust. In truth, you’re the only person I don’t have to worry about. Maybe the only person who can help.”

“Me?” Mark doubted that.

“I’m serious,” she said. “See, the people I’m talking about at Summit, they don’t know what to think of you. We’re so suspicious of each other, we don’t know what to make of an honest man when we meet him.”

“I have my own secrets,” Mark admitted.

“Maybe not, Mark. There are two things you should know. First, you’ve been watched your whole life—things you don’t think anybody knows are in the Vault. Second, the letter sent to you with the money for your athletic fund, which sparked your interest in learning more about Summit—I didn’t send it. I have no idea who did, and I don’t think it was Max. But I’m absolutely sure it wasn’t an accident.”

Mark’s mind went back to what she’d just said. “I’m in the Vault. Like what?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know what they have about me. But as one of Max’s children, you were kept track of.” She stood, wiped her eyes, and smoothed her skirt. “I’ll meet you outside in a minute, okay?”

Mark left her alone inside the cottage and walked down the steps. He nodded to the driver parked at the edge of the clearing, then walked over to where Kevin’s kayaks rested in their stand and squatted for a closer look.

He undid a strap and lifted the plastic tarp.

The kayak on top had space for a single person and plenty of scuff marks around the edges. Nylon cross-cords for holding gear ran across the front and back of the craft.

The other kayaks were two-seaters and didn’t show as much wear.

“That’s the one they found him in,” Tru said from behind Mark. She pointed at the single-seat kayak.

Although he’d suspected as much, hearing it confirmed sent a chill through him, and he took a step back.

“We used to take one of the two-person kayaks out around the island. Sometimes we’d go as far as the marina and get sodas,” she recalled.

“That sounds fun.”

“Next time, we’ll bring our bathing suits and plenty of sunscreen and give it a shot,” she said. “Ready to eat?”

“Right behind you.”

Mark had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. The last thing he’d expected to talk to Tru about tonight was a murder conspiracy involving a founder’s son and his half brother.

Her concerns about a conspiracy sounded, on the surface, like a fantasy based in denial. But given what he’d seen so far, it didn’t sound that crazy, which was why he didn’t feel completely stupid as he pulled out his phone and snapped photos of the kayaks while her back was turned.

Backup Plan

Mark stepped out of the SUV and walked toward the glass entrance of the condominium tower, where a bellman held the door open for him.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice called out, with an accent Mark couldn’t place.

He turned and saw a young woman with dark hair, a short skirt, white blouse, and blazer. She held her phone and looked like she was waiting for a rideshare.

She smiled at him. “Haven’t I seen you online?” she asked.

Mark searched his brain for something clever to say but only managed, “Maybe.”

“I’m Diane. Do you mind if I get a selfie?”

“Sure,” Mark answered.

She slipped an arm around Mark’s waist, pulled him in close enough that he could smell her perfume, then held up her phone and snapped a photo of the two of them.