And that’s how a corpse ended up on the altar.
28
The minute Ma and my aunties finish filling me in on what’s happened behind the scenes, they erupt into argument with a flurry of Mandarin, Indonesian, and English.
Big Aunt: “Tuh kan? You see, this is what happens when you don’t listen to me!”
Second Aunt: “Ha! You’re just jealous because for once, I take control of the situation, we’re not just following you around like zombies.”
Ma: “Why did you give them so much absinthe? They’re not drunkards, like you!”
Fourth Aunt: “Excuse me, it’s not my fault if the groomsmen can’t hold their alcohol. And also, I wasn’t the one who drugged them.”
This is so typical of them. Big Aunt and Second Aunt with their rivalry, Ma and Fourth Aunt with their jealousy. I can’t take another second of it, so while they argue with one another, I stalk off.
As though to reflect our mood, the wind’s picked up and is howling like a grieving widow. It snatches at my ponytail, whipping it into my face. Up to this point, the adrenaline has rendered me oblivious to my surroundings, but now, I realize that I’m freezing in my wet clothes. My teeth are actually chattering, and each breath I take makes my jaw clack. I hug the towel around me tight and walk toward the infinity pool. I’m dreading the sight of what was going on while I took stock with my family, but I have to. I have to know.
I’m half-expecting the scene to be crawling with cops, to hear the wail of sirens and see the red and blue lights flashing. But when I get there, the place is almost devoid of people. The hotel’s security team is ushering the last remaining guests away from the site, telling everyone in stern voices to go back to their rooms and stay put. Jacqueline and Tom—thank god—are nowhere to be seen. I check my phone and see half a dozen messages from Seb, telling me he’s been ordered to go back to his room. My heart skips a beat when I spot Nathan on the stage, his tall profile silhouetted against the stormy sky. He’s staring down at the body, and from my vantage point, it’s impossible to see the expression on his face. His back is straight, but his head is bowed as though he’s deep in thought.
“Miss, please, you need to return to your room,” a guard says.
Nathan turns and sees me. “No, she’s fine, she’s with me,” he calls out, hurrying toward us.
Just as I’m about to walk to him, voices are raised, and I turn around to see the sheriff I’d seen earlier that morning shouldering past a couple of the hotel’s security guards.
“Coming through,” he says pompously. “Sheriff coming through.” When he gets near me, he places a meaty hand on my shoulder, even though the path is wide enough for the two of us, and pushes me aside like I’m a shopping cart in his way. “Step aside, ma’am, sheriff coming through,” he says in that self-important voice that makes me want to punch him. Instead, I watch wordlessly as he swaggers down the aisle toward Nathan.
I step closer, not close enough that they’d tell me to go away, but just close enough to hear what they’re saying. It’s not hard to hear the sheriff; even over the howl of the wind, he’s practically bellowing every word.
“Knew something bad was gonna happen,” he says by way of greeting. “You fancy folk think you can just turn up on my island and build your giant resorts—ha! I’ve been waiting for this to happen, boy.”
Nathan places his hands in his pockets, maybe to stop himself from punching the sheriff too.
“And now one of my little birdies tells me you got a dead body—oh, hello, what do we got here? A dead body.”
To my shock, the sheriff actually sticks one of his feet out and nudges Ah Guan’s arm with the tip of his shoe. That does not strike me as correct crime scene protocol, but then again, who am I to judge what’s correct protocol? All I have to go on are episodes of CSI and Law and Order. For all I know, maybe all sheriffs use the tips of their shoes to—okay, who am I kidding? This guy is a nut.
“Sheriff McConnell,” Nathan says, “so glad to have you here again.”
The sheriff snorts, and it’s amazing how much he reminds me of a seal. “Hah, yeah, I bet you’re glad. What a mess. But no worries, you’ve all got someone who knows what he’s doing here,” he calls out to the small audience. He looks around and frowns. “Where’s everyone?”
“We thought it best to have as few people here as possible, so we sent all the guests back to their rooms.”