“All right, thanks,” Abigail said. “I do want to make a call. Is there someone upstairs in the office?”
“Aaron’s up there, last I checked. If he isn’t, then just come and find me. I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Lamb. Really, if there was anything we could do to help, we’d do it.”
“When did the plane come yesterday to pick up Alec and Jill Greenly?”
He thought for a moment. “About three o’clock.”
She pushed through the doors into the lodge. It was clearly lunchtime, the bar now open, and Abigail spotted Porter, holding a draft beer. He had one elbow on the bar, leaning at a rakish angle, and Abigail thought, He’s pleased with himself. He spotted her and lifted his head in greeting, a half smile on his lips. Her instinct was to walk away, but she went toward him, said hello.
“I didn’t see you at the pool this morning,” he said.
“No,” she said.
“You okay?” he asked, putting his beer down on the bar as though he wanted to free his hands. She wondered if she looked like she was about to faint.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just not feeling well, and I was hoping to get off this island today and I just found out that the plane can’t come until tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said in his slight accent.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Of course.”
“Did you know Jill Greenly, the other woman who was here with her husband?”
“Ah,” he said, and raised his eyebrows a little. “How did you know that?”
“She told me. You two had been engaged?”
“A long time ago,” he said. He picked up his beer again and took a long sip.
“You must have been surprised to see her here.”
“Yeah, I was shocked. I don’t know if I was as shocked as she was, but it was a big surprise to her. An unpleasant surprise, probably for both of us.”
“Because of your past relationship.”
“It did not end well.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
“She told you what?” Porter asked, a catch in his voice.
“Oh, not much, really. I barely knew her.”
“Lucky you,” he said. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound bitter, but …”
“But you are bitter.”
“Yes, I guess. I’d have been better off never having met her,” he said, and Abigail thought he was holding back. For some reason, she heard Bruce’s voice in her head, saying the words “spoiled bitch” with so much hatred in his voice.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about her anymore. She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” he asked.
“I mean she’s left. This island.”
“Has she?” He looked surprised, and it was clear that Porter, at least, hadn’t heard the whole story about what Abigail had seen the previous night. Either that or he was pretending he hadn’t heard.
“She left yesterday afternoon with her husband. By plane.”
He looked confused for a moment, but all he said was, “Oh, I didn’t know that,” his eyes searching the room as though he were looking for someone. Abigail looked up at his jawline, noticed a small muscle twitching. Clearly, even the idea of Jill Greenly made him anxious.
“I’ll let you go, Porter,” she said, and he looked back down at her, scratched at his collarbone with his free hand. It drew Abigail’s eyes to his open shirt; he was wearing some sort of necklace made from braided leather. Whatever was hanging from it was hidden by his shirt.
He finished his beer in one long swallow and said, “You going in to get some lunch?”
“I’ll be there soon,” she said, and went toward the stairwell instead. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been hoping to get from talking with Porter, but just the fact that he seemed evasive, nervous almost, confirmed for her that he might have had something to do with what happened to Jill Greenly. Maybe he’d been the one who attacked her last night.
The office door was open, but no one was inside. The room was filled with the barely noticeable hum of electricity and the flicker of bad lighting. She heard footsteps behind her and turned to face the same staff member she’d met when she’d come to this office previously.
“Hi, Mrs. Lamb,” he said. He was carrying papers in one hand and an arrow in the other. Abigail’s eyes must have rested on the arrow, because he held it up and showed her the end. “Apparently when an arrow is missing its feathers it doesn’t fly right.”