I turned to face the group. Vivica and Meg had already retreated upstairs. Greg remained standing behind me. “I need to see where you found him.” He nodded. Footsteps on the stairs caught our attention. Thomas looked exhausted. “I want to go with you. Sophie has been telling us all about what happened.”
I motioned to Greg to lead the way.
“Sorry,” Thomas said in a whisper as we followed. “Miranda is not doing well. I can’t imagine what has gotten into her. She may be the next one taken away.” His eyes looked down to the ground and we walked in silence.
The beachfront where David had been found was almost inaccessible. “I went down there.” Greg pointed to a small rockless path. “I was able to lift him up to the girl’s who held on to his arms until I climbed back up help.”
I stood at the top. The tide had remained out. Blood stained rocks gave a clear impression of where David had laid. I placed my feet where I believed David had stood. There were slide marks down the slope of the cliff. The cliff was no more than six feet from top to bottom. “Take my hands,” I instructed Greg and Thomas. They held tight as I attempted to recreate the fall. I shook them free when I was halfway down. I landed on my backside with a thump. I turned to examine the rocks at my back. The ground was hard but not jagged. There was no blood near where I sat. I stood and walked several feet to where I could see the start of the blood. There was spatter around the largest puddle. There had been no damage to David’s head, that I saw so he had not hit his head on the rocks.
I straddled the puddle to look at it from above. The majority of the splatter went to the left. My greatest fear confirmed, David had been attacked and left on the rocks. Was the attacked planned to look as if he fell? Or was this just a convenient place to do away with him? My stomach sank. He came out here because I had rejected him.
We returned to the house. Rose had prepared lunch as if nothing had happened. The entire group, including Edward, gathered in the dining room. For the first time since I had arrived on the island, I could not tell you what was served. I ate, tasting nothing as I listened to Edward console us. He had been on a call to a company he’d hoped would be the catalyst to propel Glass Island into the tourist business.
The meal, as well as the afternoon, blurred into one long dream. I floated through the time, unconnected. Everyone, including myself, retired to the bedrooms after dinner. Conversations stalled and faded as everyone attempted to process what had happened. For the other women on the island, they believed David had been the victim of carelessness. For me and the men, we knew what horrors were on the island. I would have given anything to be moved to one of the locked door rooms upstairs for the night. I knew I was not in danger but knowing and believing are not always the same thing.