Echoes of Murder (Till Death do us Part Book 2) (2 page)

Fifteen minutes later there was still no sign of Isla. Her overnight bag remained on the edge of the bed in her room, her clothes still neatly folded inside, untouched. Without a clear answer of where she’d gone, Nathan and Reagan speculated she’d been held up by one of the guests and had perhaps lost track of time. They split up, each choosing different areas to search. 

Reagan knocked on a door a few down from Isla’s.

“Yeah—who is it?” 

All the rooms in this place to check, and I get his.

“Reagan.”

“Huh. The only Reagan I know is a curvy size ten who propositioned me once at a wedding.”

Funny.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Can you?”

It’s like a Band-Aid. Just rip it off and be done with it.

She twisted the handle and entered.

Evan rested on top of a blue-and-white flowered quilt, his eyes closed, hands laced behind his head. Reagan attempted to speak, but found herself staring at his smooth, bare chest instead.

Evan partially lifted one eyelid, looked over.

“Do you need something?” He paused then added, “Oh, wait. You don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be here. Not in
my
room anyway.”

“I get it, Evan. I was a jerk before. Can we start over?”

“You mean shake hands and reintroduce ourselves, pretend like we’ve never met so you can rip me a new one all over again? I’ll pass.”

“I’ve had maybe four hours of sleep in the last two days. I’ve done almost everything for this wedding.”

The excuse sounded lame, even to her. But it was the truth.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Why take everything on yourself when you don’t even like her?”

She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers, determined to keep it together this time. “Isla? Of course I like her. She’s married to my brother.”

“And you think that makes a difference?”

“What has she said?”

He stood. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing here?”

Reagan crossed her arms in front of her. “In a minute. I want to know what your sister has said about me. Despite what you think, I care about her. I really do.”

He spread his fingers. “All right, fine. Isla thinks you don’t approve of her, that you feel she’s not good enough for your brother.”

“How can she possibly feel that way? I’ve done everything I can to help her feel like she’s part of our family. She barely talks to me.”

“Maybe because she can never get a sentence in without being interrupted by your arrogant mother.”

Reagan struck him, hard, across the face, a knee-jerk reaction she couldn’t take back. She clasped a hand over her mouth. “Evan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to …”

He grabbed her hand, squeezing it until she thought it might snap. The area where she struck him reddened, leaving an impression of four, elongated fingers. He released her hand, walked to the door, and swung it open—her cue to leave.

Instead of making a swift exit, she stood on the tips of her toes, her lips brushing across his inflamed cheek as she passed him. “I really am sorry, Evan, about all of it. I don’t expect you to believe this, but I just feel ‘out of it.’ I’m not myself right now. I won’t bother you again.”  

She stepped outside. Evan reached forward, catching her fingers in his hand. He reeled her back until she faced him. “I have to say, I think you’re the one.”

“What
one
?”

“The one that makes every man realize they’ll never understand women. Ever. And it’s a waste of time to even try.”

It was possibly the harshest thing any man had ever said to her. She accepted it as penance for what she’d done. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“You weren’t like this when I first met you. Why are you so angry with me?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Let’s leave the past in the past, okay?”

“It matters to me. You liked me when we first met, and you like me now. There’s a spark between us. I can feel it. So can you. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”  

Stubborn, and not ready to confess how many times she’d thought of him over the past several months, she crossed her arms in front of her.   

“Why did you leave?” she asked. “Why did you leave me sitting there, waiting, without saying goodbye?”

“At the engagement party?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t walk out on you that night. I said I’d be back.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I swear to you, Reagan, I did.”

“If you’re telling the truth, I didn’t hear you.”

“There was an emergency.”

“What
emergency
?”

“The girl I was with, Sabine, was a coworker of mine. She’d been having some problems with an ex-boyfriend and didn’t feel comfortable being alone, so I invited her along that night. Sabine’s neighbor called during the party, told her she could see a man inside Sabine’s house. Sabine’s car wasn’t parked in its usual space so the neighbor knew she wasn’t there.”

“Was it her ex?”

He nodded.

“We called the cops,” he continued. “Went to the house. The guy was still there. He was arrested. The point is, after it was all over, I came back. I tried to find you. It was a couple hours later, but you were already gone.”

“Why didn’t you ask your sister for my number? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I thought I misread the signs, thought you didn’t feel the same way I did. But now, seeing you again, I know I was wrong.”

Reagan opened her mouth to reply and reality hit her. “Evan, have you seen your sister since you left the reception?”

“I haven’t. Why?”

“Nathan can’t find her.”

“What do you mean he can’t
find
her?”

“Nathan went to check on Isla, to see what was holding her up. When he returned, he said she wasn’t in her room. He didn’t know where she was. That’s why I came here—to see if you’ve talked to her.” She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. “They should have left for the airport a while ago.”

“Isla said she’d stop by my room on her way out. She wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.” Evan put a shirt on and grabbed a jacket and a sweater, extending one to Reagan. “Here. It’s getting cold out there.” 

On their way out, they passed Brand’s open door. Evan poked his head inside. “Hey, you seen Isla?”

No response.

Evan waved his hands in the air. Brand popped out an ear-bud, looked up. “What?”

“Have you seen Isla? She’s missing.”

“Nope.”

“We’re going to look for her. Wanna join?”

“I’m really feeling my drinks, bro. I’m sure she’s fine. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Evan and Reagan left Brand’s room and located Nathan in the reception hall. He was attempting to get the DJ to stop the music so he could address the guests. The DJ kept shaking his head, confused, the music too loud for him to fully understand Nathan’s request. Reagan wound a hand around a speaker cord and yanked back. The music grinded to an abrupt halt. There was no talking and no laughter, nothing but an eerie silence and a room full of eyes—all of them fixed on her.

“What’s your deal?” the DJ started.

She placed a hand on her brother’s arm, ignoring the DJ. “Any sign of her?”

Nathan shook his head.

Reagan held her palm out to the DJ. “I need to borrow your mike.”

“What—why?”

Evan stepped forward, snatched the microphone from the podium, handed it to Reagan. Microphone in hand, Reagan whipped around, facing a sea of confusion, everyone watching, waiting. “Has anyone seen Isla since she left to go and pack her things?”

Chatter ensued, each person trying to talk over the other.

Reagan waved a hand in front of her. “Stop! I can’t answer all of your questions right now. Please. If anyone has seen Isla in the last hour, speak up. Otherwise, be quiet.”

For several seconds, no one spoke. Then a hand raised.

“You’ve seen her?” Reagan asked.

“I’m CeeCee. Isla’s grandmother. I walked her to her room. She said she needed to change out of her dress and gather her things.”

“Did she say anything to you that seemed out of the ordinary?”

“No, dear. She was fine. She couldn’t wait to go on her honeymoon.”

“Do you know what time it was when you two spoke?”

“Oh, I’d say it’s going on forty-five minutes or more now.”

“Has anyone seen her since then?” Reagan asked.

Silence.

“We’ve checked her room, and she’s not there,” Reagan continued. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation, but until we find out what it is, I suggest we look for her. Anyone willing to help, please line up in front of me.”

“It’s dark out,” Sallie chimed in. “How will we find her now?”

Embarrassed with her mother’s lack of sensitivity to the situation, Reagan avoided addressing the comment. “Who here has flashlights on their phones, in their cars?”

Several hands went up.

“Great. Those of you with flashlights, you’ll search outside. Those without, please check everywhere else—bathrooms, hotel rooms …”

As the guests gathered together and a line formed, Sallie shuffled to the front, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear her, without the mike. “Have you considered checking the SUV?”

“Why?”

“You’re causing quite a fuss, Reagan. Maybe you can’t find her because she left.”

“Without Nathan? What do you mean?”

Sallie’s hands moved to her hips, her expression smug. “Isla’s been jittery all day. I could see it in her face. Just because she went through with the wedding and they’re married now doesn’t mean the girl isn’t capable of having second thoughts. It may be too late to pretend they never married, but it’s not too late for an annulment.”

Reagan glanced at Evan, his face a mixture of shock and pain, and Reagan felt, for the first time, what it must have been like for Isla to endure her mother for all these years. “Mother—shut up.”

Sallie whipped back. “You don’t talk to me that way. I’m your—”

“Today I do. I don’t have time to deal with you right now. Keep your arrogant comments to yourself, go back to your seat, and
sit
down.”

“I don’t understand. Don’t you want my help?”

“Not right now, I don’t.”

Two groups were formed, and the search commenced. Flashlight in hand, Reagan walked alongside Evan. With the moon tucked behind layers of gray-streaked clouds, the small beam of light Evan carried offered little help.

One hour, no sign of Isla.

Then two.

The groups reconvened and a call was made. Local police offered no sense of comfort, instead requesting Evan wait a little longer, try again in the morning if she still hadn’t been found. A “runaway bride” comment was muttered by an insensitive officer, a joke only the officer found funny.

When dawn arrived and Isla still hadn’t returned, Reagan, Nathan, and Evan started up the search again. Not far from the spot where Nathan and Isla married, Reagan saw a flicker of white clinging to the branch of a tree. The fabric was unmistakable. Upon closer inspection, she could see the jagged piece, about the size of a dollar bill, appeared to have ripped from Isla’s dress.

Several yards away, she found a second piece of fabric dangling from a bush near the edge of a steep cliff. Reagan lifted it off, smoothing the fabric in her hand. Her instincts told her to look over the edge. She resisted. She didn’t want to. She wasn’t prepared for what she might see if she did. Maybe nothing. Maybe the torn pieces of Isla’s dress had scattered in the wind, and one had rested here, at the cliff. Only she knew she was wrong. The night before there had been nothing more than a gentle breeze. No, Isla had been here, in her dress, so close to this very edge.

Reagan glanced behind her. Nathan and Evan had gone in separate directions, neither close to where she stood. She took a step forward. Then another. And then she looked down, her eyes coming to rest on a large, balled up patch of white.

“No, Nathan. Don’t. Hang on a minute.”

Reagan pressed on her brother’s chest, easing him away from the edge.

“You found something,” Nathan said, “I can tell. Get out of the way, Reagan.”

“I don’t want you to—”

Evan stepped in front of her. He peered over the side, squinted until he spotted what Reagan had seen only moments before. He turned, his face dulling to a lifeless ash. “We need to get down there. Now.”

“How?” Nathan asked. “That has to be at least a hundred feet straight down. Maybe more.”

Evan frowned. “You have any better ideas? Because I don’t, and right now, we’re wasting time.”

Wearing the only pair of shoes she brought to the wedding, a pair of slippery flats, Reagan had no choice but to remain where she was, watching with nervous anticipation as Evan and Nathan scaled the side of the cliff, descending upon what she hoped was nothing more than Isla’s discarded wedding dress—although she wasn’t foolish enough to think it was. In reality, Reagan was just passing the time, her body heat dissipating as a chill slowly blanketed her. And it wasn’t even cold outside.

Isla was dead.

She was sure of it now.

But how? And why?    

In a rush to reach the bottom, Evan scaled the side first, turning a moment to Nathan as he started down. “I can do this myself. Why don’t you wait with Reagan?”

Nathan shook his head, his foot dangling over the cliff. “No chance in hell. If it
is
her, I want to be there.” 

The pair made it halfway down without incident. Then Nathan placed his hand on what appeared to be a sturdy rock, quickly learning it offered no support. The rock tumbled from its resting place, barreling to the bottom. Nathan’s feet dislodged, giving way beneath him. He fell backward, his hands pressing against the terra firma for support as his body slid then tumbled forward.

“Nathan!” Reagan’s shrieks echoed through the valley, the tips of her nails digging into the skin on the sides of her neck as she watched in horror.

Nathan’s body somersaulted the rest of the way down, catching on an oversized bush a few feet from the bottom. There was no movement once he stopped. No sound. Even the air was hushed.   

Evan braced himself against the mountain’s steep, rocky wall, his hands pressing onto the ground behind him for support. He pushed down, initiating movement. The sliding motion punctured his skin, but in seconds, he was curling his body over Nathan’s.  

“Evan, is he all right?” Reagan shouted.   

Evan cupped his hands over his mouth, yelled up to her. “He’s breathing, and his eyes are open. He can’t move though. He thinks something’s wrong with his leg.”  

Reagan’s hands trembled as she dialed 9-1-1. Evan remained with Nathan for a minute before scooting off the mountain to do what brought them there in the first place. He reached the bunched up layers of white and fell to his knees, taking the fabric in his hands and burying his head inside it.

Nathan may not have been able to move, but it was obvious his vision hadn’t been impaired by the fall. One look and he understood. A chilling intonation of rage emitted from his mouth.

A cry of anguish Reagan would never forget.