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to hurt me … well, they were paid by Vince to kill Eric.’

She saw King mulling it over.

She said, ‘I know what you’re going to ask. So ask it.’

He said, ‘Did you know they had anything to do with this when you went to West End?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘But if you want me to be honest, I knew West End was dodgier than the rest of Grand Bahama, and I figured a crime hotspot would hand me something to do with Dylan Walcott if I went there dressed like this. Because opportunistic criminals are scumbags and psychopaths who just take what they want, and it sounded to me like Dylan Walcott is in bed with most of the criminals on this island. So, yes, I had a suspicion it’d lead to this.’

King looked over at Violetta. ‘She’s really getting the hang of this.’

Slater didn’t take his eyes off Alexis. Instead of hate at her attackers in his eyes, there was only pride at her initiative. ‘You are getting the hang of this.’

She went to the coffee table in the living area and placed the book down. ‘There you go. Have a look at it.’

King said, ‘You said Vince paid the two guys who attacked you to kill this guy Eric?’

Alexis nodded.

King said, ‘That doesn’t make any sense. Aren’t they on the same team?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t have all the answers.’

Slater said, ‘Now I really wish we caught him.’

She said, ‘You found him at the tiki hut?’

Slater nodded. ‘And made a few more developments.’

He told Alexis and Violetta about the Barrows and their predicament. When he was finished, Alexis realised a knot had developed in her gut.

He could see the pained expression on her face, clear as day.

He said, ‘What is it?’

She said, ‘I hate this. I just hate it. I hated it in Vegas when it was happening to Melanie and Elsa, and I hate it here when these people — Teddy and Lyla and Caleb — are the victims. It’s disgusting. That’s all I have to say.’

‘The fact that they’re getting victimised?’

‘The fact that it’s so easy to victimise them. And someone like Walcott can stride in with his business smarts and nice suits and drain them of everything they’re worth. But it’s not even that, it’s just how goddamn unnecessary it is. Why does Walcott have to be a loan shark? Why can’t he be content screwing over big companies? Why does he have to go after the little man?’

King said, ‘Because every big company is made up of little men.’

Alexis seethed.

Slater said, ‘Isn’t it lucky we’re around to get in the way and make things all complicated?’

She said, ‘I want back out there. I want anyone I can get my hands on.’

‘Tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It’s been quite the day.’

They came to a mutual agreement, talked details for another half hour, ate a quick dinner King and Violetta whipped up, then drifted into their rooms for much-needed sleep.

43

In the middle of the night, Slater got up for a glass of water.

Illuminated by the soft downlighting above the stovetop, he picked up Eric’s logbook and filed through the pages. He went slow, methodical, taking his time.

A single name stood out.

He read it twice, then a third time.

Huh, he thought.

He filed the information away, then went back to bed.

Could be a typo.

Or not.

44

Daylight infiltrated the room and crept under King’s eyelids.

He stirred, opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling.

Took a few deep breaths to pump himself full of oxygen, and then he was awake.

He rolled over. Violetta was already sitting up in bed, letting the rising sun bathe her naked skin. She was practically glowing. He tried to meet her eyes, but they stayed glued to the laptop on her thighs. He could see she didn’t want to waste a moment of time in Grand Bahama. Not if it meant missing some vital piece of information that she could have found if she’d just spent another few minutes doing her job. He admired her from the other side of the bed, then traced a finger along her washboard stomach.

She looked over. ‘Hey you.’

He smiled. ‘Hey.’

‘I don’t know if I’m up for a morning workout.’

He read between the lines. ‘I think last night did the trick.’

‘You think?’ She put the laptop aside, rolled onto her stomach and kissed him.

When they parted, he said, ‘Found anything useful?’

‘More financial bullshit,’ she said. ‘Nothing interesting.’

‘Anything incriminating?’

‘I had a look at Eric’s logbook,’ she said. ‘Then I did a little more research on the dead man. He was the victim of a “random mugging” in the parking lot of a church in Hawksbill. The police report made no mention of his ties to organised crime, so they either didn’t know or actively suppressed it. He was a family man, with a wife and two kids on the east side of the island. He went to work for one of Dylan Walcott’s real estate companies last year.’

‘“One of”?’

‘Dylan’s a major player. The end result of his business with the casinos and the banks is a metric shitload of washed money. He owns condos, resorts, golf courses — mostly here in Grand Bahama, but a lot of Nassau is his too.’

King pressed fingers into his eyeballs. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘You don’t get what?’

‘He has more money than he’d ever need. And he still gives it out to desperate people, people who have a high likelihood of not being able to repay it. Why put himself through that trouble?’

Violetta thought hard, fitting jigsaw pieces together, then said, ‘Because he’s had it too easy.’

King felt the sun on his back, thought it over. ‘You think?’

‘His grandfather handed him everything and then he took it to new heights. It all fell into his lap. And where do you think he got his ruthless streak from? Archie Walcott was a stock manipulator and a scumbag. He had to be, to be involved in the history of this island. You don’t get into a position like that without knowing how

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